Page 58 of Malicious Wedding

“Sir, the Polish lieutenant you questioned yesterday.” His face is neutral, as always. I’d never want to play poker with this guy. “He died this morning.”

I grunt, looking away. That’s not a bad thing and not surprising given what I had to do to the bastard. Even if hehadmanaged to cling on to life, it would’ve been tough to do much with no fingers, no toes, and only one working eye.

“Make sure my brother and my father hear about that. They’ll be pleased.”

“Happy to pass it along.” He clears his throat. “Then there’s the matter of your second-in-command.”

I rub my face. “I’m not in the mood.”

“You need to name someone.”

“Iain might wake up.”

“And he might not. In the meantime, you need to keep the crew in line.”

I glare at him. “You want the job?”

“I’m your driver.”

“And a pain in my ass.” I hold up a hand before he can respond. “Brecken will do for now.”

“I’ll let him know.” Fitz turns and marches off. I watch him go with a sigh. That man’s a formidable bastard, a cross between my personal assistant, close advisor, and bodyguard. I need a man like him telling me the hard truth. Not many people in the Crowley organization know how important Fitz really is, which works in my favor. They tend to underestimate him.

“You plan on doing a garage sale, brother?”

I turn, cursing to myself, as Nolan walks over. His motorcycle must be parked around the corner where I wouldn’t hear him approach. “Usually when there’s a garage sale, the boxes are going out of the house, not into it.”

Nolan grunts, arms crossed over his chest. “That’s a good point. What is all this?”

I ignore his question. “What do you want?”

“You’ve been hard to get in touch with the last few days.” He doesn’t look at me. Only watches my men finish carrying Ash’s stuff inside. “There was a time when I barely went through a day without running into your shining face.”

A bit of guilt washes through me. Nolan and I were close for years, but lately things have been strained.

Mostly my fault. I know how he’s going to react to the Ash news. The same way he handled it when our youngest brother Finn married a woman he shouldn’t have: very poorly.

“I’ve been busy with something important,” I say, readying myself for a fight.

“Does that something have to do with the boxes?”

“Yes. They’re all her things.”

He’s silent for a few beats. “Who is she?”

“You know who.”

His eyes close. “The sister. You’re still on that? I guess it makes sense. Iain’s near death, which means you’re free to do whatever you want.”

“Careful.”

“When did it start?”

“A few days ago.”

“Does she know?”

“No. I haven’t told her yet.”

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