Page 109 of Say I Do

Quincy eyed Tony before heading over to the bed. He slipped some gloves on.

“Any reason you didn’t call your dear husband?”

Ugh, was everyone going to be on my ass about it?

“No, just get to cleaning.”

“Fine,” Quincy said.

I reached across the bed as Quincy grabbed the top half of Darla. “Are you going to help or what?” I asked Tony.

He grunted as he stood by the door, looking like a bodyguard. “I told you to call the boss.”

I groaned. “Yeah, I called Quincy this time. I can tell Benito everything later.”

“Why the hell did you involve me again?” Quincy asked.

I glared at my best friend. “Add it to the shit long list of favors you owe me.”

“You’re making a mess,” Tony so helpfully pointed out.

“Why is he even here?” Quincy asked.

I ground my teeth. “To get on my nerves, apparently.”

“That’s only part of my job.” Tony stepped toward us, and I was sure he would finally help with clean up. “You aren’t supporting her correctly. Is this your first time?”

“No,” I growled. I just hadn’t had to clean up a body in a while. I had people who did it for me. Not to mention doing this in a hotel was probably the stupidest shit I’d pulled in a while.

Quincy grunted, and I knew by the sour look on his face he was thinking the same thing. All right, I’d fucked up. But to be fair, Lee Aceto was gunning for my man’s life, and I wasn’t about to let it slide.

“Just help.”

“No,” Tony said. He leaned back and watched over us like some kind of know-it-all. “You made the mess, you clean it up.”

“I’m starting to think you get a kick out of this.”

Tony shrugged. “You wouldn’t be wrong.”

“If Benito didn’t trust you so much, I’d kill you.”

“Same.”

I paused. Benito trusted me? My stomach clenched at the same time my hand slipped around Darla’s ankle, and her corpse tumbled to the ground.

“Really, Har?” Quincy grunted as he glared at me over Darla’s body.

“My bad, don’t sta—”

The soft click of the door caught my attention. It swung open as Benito strolled through. I froze. His dark brown eyes moved over the entire space before they finally landed on me. He said nothing. He didn’t need to. Not when he stared at me intently.

Longing, fear, desire, and something I still couldn’t understand twisted inside of me until it was nothing but murky waters of emotions.

I’m fucked.

Harlow staredat me like a deer in headlights. In any other situation, I would have laughed. I wasn’t used to seeing him so shaken up. However, I couldn’t even manage a small grin as I looked around at the situation before me. Two bodies, blood, a hotel room on the 12th floor, and Quincy. Out of everything in the room, I couldn’t decide what was worse; the made man my husband had killed or his best friend who stared at me with a sharp gaze and a grin that tugged at his lips.

“Thanks for letting me know,” I told Tony.

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