Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 59738 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59738 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
“I hope so.”
“You’ll have to come hang with me and the girls one of these days. Trust me when I say that we love our husbands, but it doesn’t mean they don’t drive us batshit crazy half the time either.”
“That would be nice,” I tell her, and I mean it.
“Good.” Mack gives me a conspiratorial wink. “Now that we’ve settled that, we can move onto the important stuff.”
“Like what?” I ask.
She walks over to Crow’s desk and wiggles a Dunkies box with a devious smile. “Like what kind of donuts are your favorite?”
“Have enough yet, mate?”
Slick sputters out a choked affirmative, but it doesn’t make a bit of difference. He caved within the first five minutes of seeing Reaper’s room of torture. He started carrying on like the spineless coward he is when it came down to it.
The racket only got worse when I broke his arm. That should have been it. Crow gave me orders, but I can’t let it die that easily. I have an example to set. To him or any other maggot who thinks they can touch what’s mine.
There is no satisfaction in the cracking of his bones as I count off the fingers on his left hand one by one. It irks me that I can’t even tell him what the real crime is. Crow has me bound to silence about Ivy’s position in my life and this club, and it rubs me the wrong way. He sure as shite wouldn’t be willing to do the same if it was Mack. From the minute he claimed her, he made no bones about it to everyone who might think of toying with her.
Regardless, Ivy is alive, and that’s better than the alternative. I should be grateful, but the uncertainty of our future pricks me like a hot knife. She can’t even follow a simple request from me, which is rule number one of being a mafia wife. I don’t know how in the bleeding hell I’m going to keep our marriage a secret when I want to murder every tosser who looks her way.
I need to blow off some steam, so I beat the hell out of Slick with my bare hands. I fuck up his face and hit him in the kidneys until he’ll be pissing blood for a good week, and that’s when Ronan decides to interrupt me.
“What?” I scowl at him.
He offers Slick a cursory glance. “I think the bloke has had enough. He won’t be bothering with your missus anymore.”
“Would ye have the same sympathy for him if it were your wife?”
Ronan’s brows pinch together because I just fucked up, and he’s too smart to miss it. I may as well have printed him an invitation to the wedding with that statement. The gears in his head are turning, and he’s already figured it out, but he won’t say anything. Ronan understands better than anyone the madness a woman can impart on a man.
“Get back upstairs to Ivy,” he suggests. “Go home and cool your jets.”
I glance at the sorry sack of shite curled up on the floor, his face a bloody mess and his hand so swollen he won’t be able to use it for a good month if he’s lucky. Satisfied that he’ll think of me every time he tries to spoon feed himself, I leave the room and head back upstairs to collect Ivy. Crow is at his desk in the office, fiddling with his phone while Mack and Ivy talk quietly on the couch.
“Get everything sorted?” Crow glances up at me.
I nod. “I’m taking Ivy home.”
“Aye, I think that’s a good idea.”
The return trip is quiet, and Ivy stares at me throughout, but I can’t look at her right now. I don’t want to unleash on her when I’m in a prick of a mood, but she needs to understand that when I ask her to do something, it just has to be that way.
When we get to the house and relieve Rory of his babysitting duties, he notices something isn’t right, but he isn’t the type to bother me about it. After giving us a quick report of the night, he makes himself scarce and disappears out the front door.
Ivy’s still in the parlor, standing there with her arms hanging awkwardly at her sides. I steal a quick glance at her and shake my head. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she answers flatly.
“Grand. Then you should get yourself cleaned up and get some sleep.”
She glares at me. “Is this because he touched me?”
I don’t want to have this conversation right now, and I let her know as much. “I have shite to do. I’ll be back after.”
“Just tell me.” She crosses her arms in the way that women do when they’re pissed. “Do you think I led him on or something?”