Page 55 of Falling for the Killer

“You mean, trying to kill you and your pregnant girl here?” Colm shrugged and gestured with the cigar. “It’s no secret.”

“What do you want, in exchange for his life?”

“What could you possibly give me that would be worth a man’s immortal soul?” Colm’s teeth shone in the moonlight. “I’m not a religious man, Gian, but I do believe in sin. I grew up too Catholic to ignore the idea, you see. It’s been beaten into me over the years. And I do believe that when you take a man’s life, you commit a terrible sin, and a piece of you withers and dies like old fruit on the vine. Do you want that, Gian?”

I smiled and waved a hand. “Funny, coming from a man of your reputation.”

“Ah,” Colm said. “But I’ve only ever killed to defend myself. You’re talking about murder.”

“I’m talking about killing a man that won’t ever leave me and Ash alone.” I put my hand on her leg, and she didn’t pull away. Her breathing was fast and quiet, short little gasps.

Colm looked thoughtful. “I’ll help you,” he said. “I have no particular loyalty to Plight. His money’s as good as any other.”

“I can buy him out,” I said. “Whatever he’s been paying, I’ll match it. In exchange, you look away when I kill him, and we agree to a ceasefire.”

“I don’t want money,” Colm said. “I want territory.”

I clenched my jaw. Paying him off was bad enough—but ceding control of my streets was almost impossible. If I did that, I’d look terrible to my soldiers and all the other Capos in the family. There’d be hell to pay and I wasn’t sure the Don would have my back, not if I went that far.

But I had one goal, and only one goal. Everything else was a sideshow.

“Two blocks,” I said. “Right over the river. You can have two blocks north and south at the edge of the South Street bridge.”

“That’s a good spot,” Colm mused, and blew smoke into the air.

“It’s the best I’ll do,” I said, sucking the cool night air into my lungs. “I’d rather go to war than give up more.”

Colm nodded slowly. “It’s a fair offer. You give me that territory, I let you kill Stuart, and we both agree to a ceasefire.”

“That’s right,” I said. “And if I catch your men encroaching beyond what we agreed, then the ceasefire is over.”

“Understood,” Colm said and shoved a hand out into the night. It hovered there, and Colm showed his teeth in a strange sort of smirking grimace, like a skeleton showing its naked molars.

I took his hand and shook it. He blew out smoke up into the air and released before standing.

“Consider it done,” Colm said. “Stuart’s all yours. My boys will move onto their turf as soon as he’s dead.”

“Fine,” I said, nodding.

“Lovely doing business.” Colm tipped his hat and put the cigar between his teeth. He walked off, puffing away, his hands shoved into his pockets as the rain splattered onto the ground all around him. He disappeared down the paths until he was nothing more than the glowing cherry, then nothing at all.

I looked at Ash and squeezed her hands again. She took a deep, shuddering breath and let it out before moving closer to me.

“Are you sure about this?” she asked. “Maybe we don’t have to kill Stuart.”

“It’s the only way,” I said. “It’ll send a message to everyone in the city, including your family. I think it’s the only way they’ll leave us alone.”

She hesitated, and I wondered if she’d try to stop me. Stuart was an abusive piece of shit that deserved to swallow the barrel of my gun, but Ash still knew him and probably thought she’d marry him at one point. It must’ve been hard for her to imagine that I’d snuff him out like a rotten candle.

“I want to come with you,” she said, staring into my eyes.

I hadn’t expected that. I leaned back and studied her, not sure what to think. Her face was serious and hard, all angular lines and gorgeous lips. I leaned forward and kissed her softly before whispering in her ear, “You can pull the trigger, if you want.”

She sucked in a breath. “I don’t think I’m ready for that,” she whispered back.

I stood up and pulled her to her feet. “We’ll see,” I said, and led her back to the truck, and to the end of this.

21

Ash

Gian parked at the curb of a quiet, sleepy house in a dead-end neighborhood in the heart of the Main Line about ten minutes from my parents’ house. The front lights were off, though something was on deep toward the back. Gian killed the engine and stared at the house for a few minutes before looking at me.

“You sure about this?” he asked. “It’s not too late to turn back.”

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