Page 287 of Vicious Saint
“Shoot.”
She pins me with a glare. “Seriously?”
It takes me a few blinks to realize what the mean mug is all about.
“Shit. My bad.” I wince. “Tell me.”
“I wanna know why you guys killed him.”
“Because he deserved it for what he did to you. Obviously.”
“Yeah…” She goes back to picking at the bandage. “But he was about to talk. We could’ve gotten info out of him for your dad, or even the Salvinis to use to their advantage.”
Fuck.
I don’t know whether to be impressed by how tactical this girl is, or pissed off. For now, for many reasons, I’ll be going with neither.
“Anything he said would’ve been a lie. Plus, Carlo had to send those Ivanov motherfuckers a message.”
“Yeah…” Hendrix presses on. “But that could’ve been doneafterCarlo took him somewhere to interrogate him. Hell, even you. I just think killing the guy right away was a sloppy decision.”
Listening to Hendrix scrutinize murder like it’s a shitty football play is not only an astronomical turn on, but an astronomical problem.
One I need to rectify quickly.
“Alright, alright, Karen. I’ll be sure to pass your disappointment along to the manager.” I attempt to keep shit playful. “Preferably to the Italian.”
Hendrix doesn’t laugh or respond before getting lost in thought again, and suddenly I feel like a dickhead for cracking jokes hours after she was almost abducted and witnessed an actual murder.
“Need to talk about anything else?” I ask, already anticipating her answer. Or better yet…questions.
“I wanna talk…but not about the kidnap attempt.”
Thank fuck for small favors.
“Okay…then what do you wanna talk about?”
“Him…”
Color me all types of damn confused.
“But you just said—”
“I wanna talk about Vicious, Saint!” Hendrix blurts out, unable to look at me.
Every muscle inside me coils with the mention of his name.
I knew this conversation was coming…and dreaded the idea of having it. But tonight isn’t the night for Hendrix to unravel my monster.
Not when she just witnessedmebecome an accessory to murder.
“Not tonight.”
“Saint…I’ve almost lost you to him too many times already. I won’t have it happen again. Not without you telling me about who or what I’m up against.” For what Hendrix says next, she makes sure to meet my eye. “You promised me honesty in those woods, remember?”
Not the three percent.
Fuck. Fucking fuck.
