Page 49 of Montana Falls
“A lot or a little?” From where I stood, I couldn’t hear anything that wasn’t shouted. Not a single breath or whisper from either Linc or John. But I could see as Lincoln got closer, and pulled a knife out of his boot.
One with serrated edges and enough violence intended behind it that I felt just a smidgen better about things.
At least I did until John said something. I watched his mouth move, albeit slowly. I saw the way Lincoln’s entire body went stiff. And I watched the cruel smirk that slipped onto John’s face, right before he shuddered, taking his last breath.
It was really that simple. That quick. One second he was gasping, the next he was still and wide eyed. He was dead and I… I felt nothing. No sense of relief. No justice. Just nothing.
I’d wanted to torture him like how he had ordered his men to torture me and my mama. I wanted to make him hurt far more than I ever had. But I hadn’t. He was just… just dead. From a fuckingfall. A lucky little thing for me. An accident for him. An altogether far too easy ending for such a monster.
I wanted to scream.
Instead, I forced myself to climb down the scaffolding carefully and made my face stop scowling as I jumped onto the ground, forcing down my irritation and concentrating on the fact the prick was still dead.
He was dead and dead was surely best, right?
“Lincoln.” I said his name with a frown as I caught him just standing there, staring at John’s dead body and not moving. “You okay?”
He flinched almost and hurried to turn around.
“I’m fine.”
“You sure?” I cocked my head at his odd tone. “What did John say to you? You look… you look funny.”
Lincoln shook his head, still staring with that strange look in his eyes and the weird vibe in his posture.
“Nothing you need to hear now. Just his usual insults and stuff.” He blew out a breath and came toward me, wrapping his arms around my body.
He pulled me closer, and I rested my head on his chest, letting the thunder of his heartbeat calm me as he held me tight.
“Promise?” Whatever nastiness had been spilled from a dead man’s tongue was no doubt pointless. Nonsense. Just a thing designed for him to leave one last mark of his cruelty in the world.
“I’m okay, princess. How can I not be? John’s dead.” Lincoln laughed without humor, his body vibrating against me. “That piece of shit isdead. Nothing else matters right now.”
He was right. John was dead.
We hurried to reunite with the rest of our family, all of us celebrating and happy. Soon enough Caro and his cleaner’s turned up, disposing of John and whatever evidence we left behind, as though he had never been there in the first place.
He would get fed to pigs. Or burned in a funeral home. Perhaps even chopped into little pieces and taken out to the middle of the ocean for a shark. Regardless of how it happened, it was over. John was dead.
As we headed back to the car together, we did nothing but celebrate and laugh at the undeniable fact our mission was going brilliantly. We had knocked another piece off our board – another dozen pieces, if you included the Vice King pawns, who would quickly fall apart without their evil leader. And now there was only one left. Only one piece left to take.
The O’Malley reign was about to come to an end any day now. I could feel it in my bones.
It was about fucking time.
Chapter Fifteen
English nightclubs were not as good as the ones back home. Though I had only ever been to Sapphires and my girl had great taste for her clubs. So maybe it wasn’t a fair comparison. But here, at whatever shitty nightclub we found near the hotel, nothing about my evening, aside from our reasoning for coming out, was fun in the slightest beyond a single thing.
Sapphire.
She was beautiful, like always, in a tight black dress, killer heels and the best part of all; she wassmiling. Grinning ear to ear hard enough to hurt. She was being herself, and she was happier than I’d seen her in a while. It was addicting as hell and the only reason I hadn’t once complained that music was bad; the drinks were watery, the blue and red strobe lights were too bright, and that the entire place stunk like poor quality weed. Or that English people were hella loud and messy when drunk andconstantly bumping into us and spilling things. Enough that I had removed my shirt long ago, with how soaking wet it was.
Partly because my girl also suggested it with a coy smirk that I hadn’t wanted to disappoint as we danced together.
“Hey, baby.” Price appeared through the writhing crowd, with another round of drinks, Lincoln helping him. “Here you go.”
He slid a tequila shot into Sapphire’s hand, letting her shot it and steal the lemon from between his lips before he handed her a cocktail too. It was gregariously pink and looked sickly as hell, but Sapphire was over the moon with it. So much so she finished it within a minute and was quickly back to doing another of my favorite things she did -dancing. Specifically, dancing on me.
