Page 7 of Tales You Win (Grim & Beast Duet 1)

“No! Fuck! I’m all they’ve got!”

“Well not anymore,” I say, dropping the garden shears onto the table. “Just confirm that it’s Saxon who’s pissing in the wrong territory, and give me the address of your family and I’ll make sure they’re taken care of.”

He meets my gaze. “You promise?”

“Yes.”

He nods. “15 Southside Road, Chelmsford.”

“Good man,” I mutter, pulling out my phone and sending a quick text message to Connall, my go-to in situations like this. He’s not Carter’s man, he’s my oldest friend and one of the O’Briens, a well-known, not to be fucked with, Irish mafia family who own all of the Irish pubs in London and a few dodgy side businesses involving bootlegged liquor and firearms. Not that I give a shit. We go way back and it’s not as if I’m clean. You could lock me away for three life sentences given the amount of shit I’ve done in the name of my boss. It’s why I’m head of security and his most trusted soldier, hence the babysitting duties with Princess. He trusts very few people with his baby girl. I don’t fucking blame him. Princess has a way of burying her sharp little claws into your skin.

And your dick…

“Fuck!”

“What?! What did they say?”

“Don’t worry, your sister and aunt will be taken care of,” I reply, tucking my mobile phone back into my pocket.

“What’s gonna happen to them?” he asks, his teeth chattering so loud I can barely make out the words.

“I’ll get them to a safe house”

“But they don’t have much money…”

“Is that why you started to work for Saxon… Money?”

He nods. “Yeah.”

“And you think selling drugs to minors is the right way of going about that? I heard that a kid not much older than your baby sister took one of his dodgy pills and died. What do you think about that, huh?” I ask, gearing myself up to the fact that I’m gonna end this prick’s life any second now. I ain’t sad for him, he’s just another cunt who’ll do anything for money, but I do feel bad for his kid sister and aunt. No doubt they love him and he keeps his nefarious shit away from them. Until now.

“It wasn’t me that sold the drugs to that kid.”

“But I bet you have, right?”

He doesn’t answer and I nod, grabbing the Glock 21 semi-automatic pistol and pressing the muzzle against his temple. “Name.”

“I have money stashed in the floorboards of my aunt’s spare bedroom. She doesn't know it’s there. Make sure my aunt takes it. It’ll be enough to get her and my sister set up again.”

“I’ll make sure she gets the message.Name,” I repeat.

“It was Saxon. He’s been doing it for months now.”

“Thank you,” I reply, then pull the trigger, not flinching as brain and skull matter explode out of the side of his head, painting the floor and wall scarlet. “What a fucking waste.”

Holstering my pistol, and giving him no more than a cursory glance before I stride from the room, I send a quick message to Dom so he can get the cleaners in to clear up the mess and dispose of the body.

My phone rings. It’s Connall. “Sorted?” I ask.

“Yeah, we’re on our way over to pick them up now. How long will they need the safe house?” he asks me.

“Until Saxon’s dealt with and we can organise somewhere more permanent for them both.”

“My guys will take good care of them.”

“I know it. Thanks, Connall.”

He chuckles down the phone. “You know you’re a bit of a bleeding heart these days.”

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