Page 34 of Devious
He’s the spitting image of Cashel. Same green eyes. Same pointy nose. Same pale skin.
“Where is Cashel?” I scowl.
“How the fuck should I know? He made me a soldier.” His tone is deep.
I cock the gun, nudging the barrel at the back of his head.
He flinches, biting his bottom lip. “Look, man. He ordered me to live here.”
He knew I was coming, so he used his brother as a sacrifice. Cashel doesn’t give a fuck about anyone but himself. I have to make an example out of Liam. That is the only way. I can draw him out from where he’s at. Cashel was close with Liam at one point, but something must have happened between the two of them for him to turn his back on him.
“You remember when I used to try to tag along? I don’t want to be caught up between your guys’ bullshit. I ju—”
I pull the trigger. Blood sprays on my suit, and his limp body falls to the white carpet.
“Watch the front door. Kill anyone who walks in the house,” I tell Damien, and he does what I say. I need to search the property for any paperwork with Cashel’s location. I should have known he wouldn’t be here.
Peeking in every room, I make sure there isn’t anyone in sight. I check the computer room and wiggle the mouse, and the screen comes to life. There is a password, and I tell one of my soldiers to put the computer into the car so I can have my IT guy hack into it. I empty out the drawer, and old receipts fall to the carpet. Closing the drawer, I hear sounds coming from the bathroom.
What the fuck?
As I take out my gun from the holster, I twist the knob on the metal door, and a sharp knife jabs into my side as a naked woman screams at the top of her lungs. She tries to run past me, but I yank her by the neck, aiming my gun at her mouth, pulling the trigger and leaving a gigantic hole that exposes her damaged tongue. Blood splatters the shower curtain and tiles. I toss her naked, limp body into the tub.
As I pull the knife from my side, I rush to the front entrance of the house. Damien sees me, rushes toward me, and wraps my arm around his neck.
“Take me home. Call the doctor once we’re in the car.”
The soldiers pile into the car, and we head home. Once I’m there, Damien helps me up to the master bedroom, and I stretch out on the bed. Blood drenches my black shirt and pants. Roselyn walks inside wearing a crop top and shorts. My eyes trail over her legs and up to her face.
I can’t wait to have her legs wrapped around me, but it’ll be a while. I’m not going to force her until she’s ready.
She stands there with her eyes glued to the scene. Dr. Taylor hurries into the room with her stethoscope around her neck and a black bag in her hand. She’s been ourfamiglia’sdoctor for years now. Her black corkscrew hair is in a high ponytail, and yoga pants hug her thin thighs and legs.
“I came as fast as I could,” she says, getting out a pair of scissors, cutting up my shirt, and examining the wound. “The cut is not deep enough to pierce an organ, but you will need stitches,” she says, rummaging through her bag, then taking out a cream and rubbing it on the wound. The pain stops after a few minutes when it numbs. She takes out a thread and needle, sewing my skin together, then sprays alcohol onto the wound, placing a gauze and tape on it.
“I’m going to prescribe you antibiotics. I’ll be back in a few weeks to check on your wound,” she says, pivoting on the balls of her feet.
The minute she’s out of earshot, Damien asks, “What the hell happened?” He thrusts his thick fingers through his chestnut hair.
“A woman stabbed me,” I tell him. “Leave. I need to be alone with my wife.”
Ten minutes later, Roselyn stares at me.
I stare back at her, taking in her hair falling over her shoulders.
“Are you on bed rest?” she asks.
“No, but I’m going to be working from home for the next week.”
Her face falls, and she grinds her molars.
I’m going to use this time to get on her good side and try to be a better husband for her. The thing is, I can’t stop thinking about this crazy woman, no matter how much I try. I sneak into her room and watch her sleep and when I have to work over night I watch her through the camera.
“You’re going to take care of me,” I say.
“Why would I do that?”
“Because if you want some freedom, you have to prove that you’re loyal.”
