Series: Sean Moriarty
Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 113805 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113805 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
“Of course, my angel,” I murmur to her then look at the room. “Before we continue, I need to get her water.”
“I’ve got it,” Thaddeus says from near the door before he quietly slips out of the office.
“While we wait,” Simon says, “the men who attacked you this morning were all Russian Bratva. At least that’s what my preliminary searches have turned up.”
Eden tenses up beside me, and I’m quite sure everyone in the office sees it as well. It’s not new information, though. I know she’s the reason they came for me, and she has been punished for her transgression.
“I figured as much.” I nod my head. “It bothers me, though, that they were Bratva yet so poorly trained. They had multiple chances to make things harder for me and yet never took them.”
Thaddeus comes back into the office with three bottles of cold water and sets them on the table next to Eden. Looking from her to me, he raises his eyebrows only once, and I nod back. He’s got questions for me as well, it seems.
Nodding her thanks, Eden grabs one of the bottles of water and takes a long drink from it.
Wasting no time, Simon immediately asks her, “Your uncle sent you to spy on us at the club, why?”
Eden freezes up, her whole body going rigid except for her eyes. Those move rapidly around the room, looking from face to face. As if she’s seeing where she is for the very first time.
And there’s something there beyond the fear and pain. Beyond the scared woman I met those nights ago against the wall in a rancid alley.
It’s fury. A fury that’s deep and cutting to the bone.
Not fury that she’s here. Not fury that she failed in whatever job they had her doing…
No, this fury is directed at every single one of us.
Trying to mask the rage that blazes behind her eyes, she takes another deep drink.
After clearing her throat, she finally says, “I don’t know all the details.”
It’s clear, though, to me and everyone around us, she’s trying to hide something and failing miserably.
Lucifer tilts his head to the side, looking at Eden like he’s discovered a little secret that he can’t wait to share.
“Eden, you look quite angry,” Lucifer’s sly voice says quietly. “To be honest, I’m surprised given what Jude has done for you today.”
Eyebrows raising, her eyes widen, and I can practically feel my little angel’s fury as she sputters, her throat raw with pain and emotion, “Done for me?”
Confused, I shift in my seat to get a full look at her. “Yes, done for you, Eden. You’re no longer in danger from Kyle, the Russians, and your uncle?”
“I suppose I should bow and scrape to you then?” Eden snaps at me, her eyes welling up with unshed tears. “I should get on my knees and thank you for refusing to allow me to escape this evil city? I should be so fucking thankful to you, my lord and fucking master, for bringing me to the very people who want to kill me?”
Standing now, her voice having reached the point of screaming the final words, she rages at me. “Just like they killed my father!”
Looking into her eyes, I feel nothing but confusion and questions forming in my head.
Reaching up, she yanks at her shirt collar, pulling it down to show the bruising around her neck.
“Do you think you did me a favor when you let me live?” she growls at me, her voice harsh. “Do you think almost taking my life then stopping repays me for what you’ve already taken?”
Standing up from my chair, I tower over her. “I’ve taken from you?”
Everyone watches our little drama play out as if we’re on a stage, revealing the inner workings of our sins.
“What have I done to hurt you so badly that you would put sins upon me that I’ve not earned?” I ask.
“You don’t even know,” she whispers. “None of you probably even remember his name or that he died at your hands.”
Silence fills the room except for Simon’s quiet typing in the corner of the office. He sits ever-present in that little space he rules over, documenting our lives.
“What was your father’s name?” Lucifer asks quietly.
Eden finally allows her tears to fall and they crash down her cheeks. “Tommy. Tommy Carmichael. You don’t remember, do you? Have you all murdered so many that you can’t even remember their names or faces?”
At that I can feel each of us still. While that statement causes no shame or guilt, it’s true that I’ve taken more lives than I can remember, and names are meaningless.
Slumping back down into her chair, Eden sadly shakes her head.
Seconds later, Simon speaks up from his keyboard. “Tommy Carmichael died fifteen years ago during the war. He was on the losing side, but it wasn’t by our hands. That much I can be positive of. Give me a moment and I’ll have a better picture.”