Page 49 of Wretched Heart
“How long will you be?” I ask, imagining a long, anxious wait ahead.
Hunter checks his watch. It’s gone nine. “Don’t wait up.”
“Seriously?” I ask, unable to hide my hurt, and grateful that we’ve just pulled up at the hotel.
When Hunter had said we were sharing a room, I knew better than to hope he’d changed his mind about ruining me, but even so…
“Great. What bride doesn’t want to go to bed alone on her fucking wedding night?” I ask as Levi opens the door for me. “And as low as the bar was set by Barrett, you’re doing a great job of staying down there too.”
“Maddie,” Hunter begins, but I’m already tumbling out of the limo.
Chapter 15
Hunter
My meeting in Las Vegas had started out well enough. Killian is a couple of years younger than me, but having been brought up in the Irish mafia, he’s far more comfortable in the underworld than I’ll ever be. I’m sure it helps that his dad, John McConkey, is head of the family.
It was Ash who’d forged a friendship with Killian, back in the days when he was setting up the business, and Killian was looking to diversify into more legitimate undertakings. Ash hadn’t set out to get involved with the mafia, but our stepmom, Lisa had just been diagnosed with cancer and there were medical bills that Dad couldn’t cover. Our lucrative dealings with the McConkeys gave Lisa an extra five years.
Our association with the Irish mafia isn’t something we could ever walk away from, but it’s far better to be a friend of the McConkeys than their enemy, as Barrett will find out at some point soon.
Barrett’s been a busy boy. As well as hismeddling in Maddie’s affairs, the Emerson heir had bought a food-processing factory in southern Illinois a few months ago. Unlike his usual acquisitions, the business was relatively successful, although that could be due to the healthy subsidy they received from the McConkeys. The Irish mafia were using one of the warehouses in Poulton Springs as a distribution hub for their country-wide drug dealing network
“Do you think Barrett knew we had an active interest in the factory when he bought it?” Killian asks as he hands me a glass of whiskey. We’re in a back room above one of his dad’s casinos, but it’s surprisingly quiet. Sound-proofed.
“Maybe he suspected something was going on, but he wouldn’t have had the guts to close down your operations if he’d known who you were.”
Killian drops onto a seat and puts his feet up on the table. “He realized his error pretty fast when he tried to block our access to the warehouse,” he says. “Our threats were meant to bring him into line, but the fucker decided to burn the place down instead. What kind of idiot sends a lucrative business up in flames just to get out of a deal?”
“If you met him, you’d understand.” I take a sip of whiskey. “I hear someone died.”
“A security guard. The place was razed to the ground, so we’ve been forced to make alternative arrangements.”
I can’t hide my surprise. “You’re letting him off the hook?”
“Hell, no,” Killian says with a smirk. “We’ve told Barrett there will be consequences, but Dad’s happy to leave him stewing for a while. Do you know what else the fucker’s up to yet?”
“We have eyes on his people while we finishup business in Brimstage. It’s only a matter of time before he shows his hand.”
“Anything I can do to help things along?”
I go to shake my head, then act as if a thought has just struck me. “Actually, since you’re offering, I could do with your assistance dealing with a minor irritation. Hugo Corbyn is planning a visit here soon, and I’d like it very much if he returned home in a box.”
Killian cocks an eyebrow. “No less than he deserves for beating up his women. Are you planning to do it yourself?”
I’ve been fantasizing about hurting Hugo almost as much as I’ve fantasized about fucking Maddie. “I need to close a deal with the bastard, so unfortunately my hands will have to stay clean.” As I talk, an alarm bell sounds in my head. How does Killian know about Hugo’s penchant for domestic abuse?
“I understand,” Killian says. “But I’m sure I could come up with something creative to make it look like you weren’t here.” When he lifts his glass to his mouth, it’s to hide a smirk. The bastard’s eyes twinkle when he adds, “Consider it a wedding gift.”
My stomach hollows. “Sorry?”
Killian’s deep brown eyes flick to my left hand. “No wedding ring?”
I set my glass down on the table. “We were hoping to keep it low key,” I tell him. “How did you find out?”
“Nothing happens here without me knowing,” he says. “You should know that, Hunter.”
I nod, giving myself a second or two to regain my composure. “It isn’t something you need concern yourself with, Killian,” I warn him. “It’s a short-term arrangement.”
