Page 174 of Stolen Hearts

Kelly’s final resting place isn’t anywhere near these two assholes. I had her moved when I was still in basic training to a nature preserve further out on Long Island. The place allows for the interment of human remains provided a tree is planted on top of the final resting place, along with a marker. Kelly’s at rest under a flowering dogwood tree.

Her favorite.

Callie’s already finished when I get back to the car, leaning against it next to the rock-dust-covered sledgehammer.

“All done?”

She nods. “Yuuup.”

“And how’d it go?”

My wife grins. “Fun asfuck. Should’ve done that years ago.”

We’ve both exorcised some demons on this little trip to the cemetery today. I got to spit on Robert James’ destroyed grave and exhale Cynthia from my lungs. And Callie got to smash the shit out of her father’s marker, which is in the same cemetery further up the hill.

“Wow. You didn’t even get a single mark on your dress.”

Callie pantomimes “fancy dusting” her shoulders off with a cute little haughty look on her face. “You know me.”

“You mean an agent of chaos, and the hell-raising queen of breaking the rules herself?”

“Like you don’t love the shit out of me for that.”

“Oh, the thing is,” I grin, yanking her into me, “Ido.”

“Smart answer,” she murmurs, stretching up on her tiptoes to kiss me. “And have I mentioned lately how good you look in a tux?”

“Nah, but you probably wrote about it in your diary or something.”

She snorts, rolling her eyes and slapping my chest playfully. “Jerk.”

I laugh and kiss her again. “C’mon, we’ll be late if we don’t hurry.”

We climb into my new Range Rover—onewithoutbullet holes in the back—and start to head back to the city. We’ve got a wedding to attend: the joining in holy matrimony of one Ms. Eilish Kildare, aka my half-sister, to one Mr. Gavan Tsarenko, at a certain Greek family’s jaw-dropping home atop a certain building on Central Park South.

“How much timedowe have?”

I glance at the GPS. “If traffic doesn’t screw with us, we’ll be there pretty much right on time. Why?”

She shrugs, turning to look out the passenger window. “No reason. It’s just that flushing out the past like that sort of makes me want to fuck your brains out.”

I groan, my jaw grinding as my cock instantly thickens in my pants.

“Callie…”

She turns to grin devilishly at me, batting her eyes. “What?”

“Don’t fucking tease me like that, baby girl,” I growl as I merge onto the freeway.

Suddenly, I feel fingers on my thigh.

“Who said anything about teasing?”

I groan again as she slides her hand to the bulge in my tux pants, cupping my swollen cock and breathing heavily.

“Fuckkk,” she purrs, stroking me as I grow harder and harder. “How the fuck are you so big?”

I grin. “That isallyou, baby girl.”

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