Page 134 of Pack of Crooks
He nods.
I glance at Kill and Maddox. “How about you two?”
“Never been better,” Kill says.
“Fine.” Maddox kicks Tristan for good measure. “Glad he’s dead.”
I stare at the body, searching for my conscience, but it’s nowhere to be found. My stomach pangs and I sigh. “Who’s hungry?” The guys all look at me. I bristle. “What? It wouldn’tbe the first time we went out after leaving a dead body behind. Besides, there’s a new Italian spot I’ve been dying to try.”
They’re quiet for a beat. Ezra laughs first. Then Kill, and finally Maddox, who scrubs his hand over his face and shakes his head.
“You’re trouble, sunshine.”
“And so are you. Now call JJ and get this cleaned up, Vivian will be pissed if we leave a mess.” Actually, Vivian would probably freak out if she saw the blood, which is exactly why no one will ever know what happened here tonight.
Tomorrow when the news breaks of Tristan’s wrong doings, his bank accounts will be drained and he’ll be gone. Another rich man fleeing from prosecution. But he’s not escaping. He’ll never hurt anyone again.
And my pack, well, I hope their revenge felt as good as they hoped it would.
thirty-seven
HAZEL
Waking up surrounded by warm bodies is. . . hot as hell, and not in the way you’re thinking, but there’s comfort in the suffocating warmth. Security that I refuse to take for granted. Blinking away the sleep, I glance to the left. Kill is spooning Ezra who is spooning me, and then I look to the right. Maddox’s hand is on my hip and his breathing is steady. Peaceful.
You’d have no idea they killed someone last night. Once we were done, we headed home to clean up since Lottie was at Sarah’s house. We washed up and immediately fell in bed, too emotionally drained to do anything but snuggle.
As carefully as I can, I scootch down the mattress, trying my hardest not to jostle anyone. A hand catches my wrist. I shoot my gaze over my shoulder. Maddox props himself on his elbow.
“Where are you going?”
“To make breakfast.”
His jaw cracks on a yawn. “I’ll join you.”
We leave Kill and Ezra to snooze. Morning light spills through the windows. Their building—oh wait,ourbuilding—is surrounded by others, but in this part of town they’re all on thesmaller side, so we have a clear view of a rooftop garden across the street and a cluster of skyscrapers beyond that. The view in my old apartment was of a brick wall.
This is definitely an upgrade.
Smiling to myself, I pull out eggs, bacon, and bread. Lottie is due back around ten and it’s already nine-thirty. She may have eaten, but teenagers are always hungry, so I grab two big pans.
Maddox takes the package of bacon.
“You don’t have to help.” I grab a bowl and set it on the counter.
“I want to,” he says with a shrug. “We’re a pack. Teamwork and all that.”
Laughing, I pop the egg carton open and set to cracking. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I can finally breathe with relief,” he confesses. “Tristan has been a phantom haunting us. It took us years to work up the courage to go after him, and it’s nice to know he suffered before it was all over.”
Whisking the eggs, I watch the yolk and egg whites blend together, mulling over his words. “Why didn’t you guys kill him sooner?”
“Well,” Ezra says, plopping down at the island. Kill drops in beside him and scrubs his hands over his face. “The plan wasn’t always death. It started out with taking his fortune.”
“And then it evolved,” Kill continues. “By the time we were ready to kill him, he had too much security detail.”
“But not last night.”
