Page 159 of Dirty Eoin

Wondering why I’m here. Wondering who I am. Wondering why ‘blondie’ has a front row seat at his very own private execution.

“What’s Roisin’s driver doing here?” he hisses, spitting blood and saliva all over the floor as he does. The left-hand side of his face is swollen. Eoin has obviously been playing with his prey by inflicting on him exactly what he did to me.

I turn my attention to my husband as he stands wearing a pair of coveralls over the top of his all-black clothes. He really must mean business if he’s wearing that level of protection. It’s my guessing not much of Malky’s blood will be left inside his body by the time Eoin has finished with him today.

A shiver runs through me. I know why.

It’s because Death is standing beside me. I can feel his ice-cold fingers whispering across my skin once more.

Eoin looks at me, his eyes blazing green.

Anger. Arousal. Adrenaline.

I feel his darkness as it descends across the room, its seductive arms wrapping around me. This time, I welcome them.

The sounds. The sights. The smells. The tastes. They now come flooding back. There’s only one thing currently missing.

Good old-fashioned fear.

He’ll be here soon enough. He won’t want to miss this farewell party.

Eoin turns his attention from me back to Malky.

“This is Jaine. She’s not my ma’s driver, she’s my wife. She’s also responsible for blowing your two-faced lying scheming bitch of a daughter’s brains out for attempting to bring harm to our fucking family.”

He sounds Irish once more, his monster now front and center.

Wrong time, wrong place, but arousal flows through me all the same.

He looks back at me, his nostrils flaring. He can sense it.

I don’t want to hear Malky begging for his life or cursing me for taking his daughter’s. It’s done. It’s over.

I walk across the room, and I pick up the murder weapon. There’s no sword, but it will do just as well.

I pass Eoin the axe. “End him.”

He takes the weapon, then stares down at it before slowly lifting his gaze to meet mine. His head is now cocked, making him look deranged, just like before. It’s a sign that he’s relinquished control to his monster. Well, as much as he ever dares.

He grins. He’s obviously pleased with my choice of weapon.

With a roar, he turns and swings the axe against Malky’s leg. I know he’ll strike him numerous times before landing the final blow.

He’ll make him suffer. He’ll make him bleed.

And I know he’s doing it for me.

BecauseIwas made to suffer. I was made to bleed.

And because he loves me.

I’m standing in a sea of blood when he levels the final blow against Malky’s skull. He leaves the weapon in-situ, jutting out from between Malky’s bulging, lifeless eyes.

And then he turns to face me.

He storms forward and pushes me back against the cold wall of the container. I grimace when my shoulder makes contact, but unlike at his apartment, this time he shows no guilt or remorse for causing me pain. Fisting my hair and pulling my head back, his lips capture mine and his tongue sweeps deep, drowning all my senses.

I taste blood. Malky’s blood. Its rancid flavor will forever seal Eoin and I in this fucked up moment. A taste and a memory that neither of us will ever forget.

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