Everyone at the table nods to him silently, with no one raising any objections.
“It keeps our hands pretty clean for now, while still providing a steady income. We get a cut of the sales, of course, which these charters will happily provide since we’re bringing them the business and taking them under our wing. I’ll keep you updated on how that works out as we progress.”
“Speaking of Cox’s business,” I ask as Malcolm pauses to take a sip of the whiskey glass he has at hand, “you heard anything about any blowback for taking him down? Or even worse, any investigations coming down?”
“Not a peep,” Malcolm answers, shaking his head after he empties his glass. “I’ve got several sets of ears to the ground, but so far, nothing. Harry Cox was not a well-loved member of society, so let’s keep our mouths fucking shut and our fingers crossed that we’ve heard the last of him.”
“I hear you. I’ve just been worried about what we did…” I start.
“What we had to do,” Devlin interrupts me. “Harry Cox brought hell down on his own fucking head; and if I have to, I’ll tell a jury the same thing. We did the world a goddamn favor burying that fat bastard.”
“You’re right,” I sigh in agreement with Dev. “I just hope that, if the authorities do make any connections, they see it the same way.”
“You worry too much,” Fiasco grunts.
“And you don’t think enough,” Wirth smirks from across the table.
“Enough!” Malcolm orders. “Unless you’ve got something important to add, this meeting is adjourned. You can go goose each other and play grab ass out in the pool hall, but I don’t want to hear your shit,” he says as he bangs his gavel to dismiss us.
Sighing, Malcolm says, “It is good to have your worry-wart ass back at the table.”
I get to my feet while everyone else rushes out the door in a hurry to get to wherever they need to be tonight.
“Glad to be back,” I tell him honestly.
My issues weren’t ever with the MC but with myself, trying to come to terms with the killing. I knew I was capable of ending a life if I had to; I just wasn’t prepared for how it fucked with my head afterward. The fact that I would do it again in the same circumstances means I made the right decision, even if it’s a fucked up one. Some things just have to be done; the consequences be damned.
“Where are you headed off to in a rush?” he asks when I start for the door.
“Home.”
“That’s it?” He narrows his eyes like he thinks there’s more to it.
“Yep.”
I take another step toward the door when Malcolm says, “How are things going with Lucy?”
“Fine.”
“She’s a handful. You haven’t run her peppy ass off yet?”
“Nope. You’re paying her to cook and clean. I would be stupid to get rid of her,” I tell him.
“Nothing else going on between you two?”
“Definitely not,” I reply, which is the truth. Coming in my hand while thinking about her doesn’t count. That’s just my incredibly horny and overactive imagination.
“Good,” Malcolm mutters. “Her life’s been hard enough without you leading her on and breaking her heart again.”
“What do you mean again?” I ask curiously. “She just get out of a relationship?”
“Yep.”
“How the hell do you know that? You two besties?” I snap at him, a little jealous that he knows more about her life than I do. Now that I think about it, she hasn’t told me anything about herself.
He raises his eyebrow at me in warning. “You think I wouldn’t run a background check on the girl before I gave her the key to your apartment? You know I have major fucking trust issues.”
“So? What did you find out?” I ask, going back over to brace my hands on the back of my chair.
Malcolm whistles as he leans back. “Whew. Where to start…”
“Just tell me, jackass!”
Chuckling, he says, “Fine. Lucy’s ex-boyfriend is getting ready to marry her, ah, cousin in a few weeks.”
“Damn. That’s fucked up,” I mutter, feeling terrible for the cute, quirky girl. I can definitely commiserate with her heartache. “Hold on. That’s the wedding she’s talking about going to?” I ask in surprise.
“She’s going, huh?” Malcolm asks. “That’s fucking insane. Why would she torture herself like that?”
“Her mom called the other night and pretty much demanded she attend. No wonder she wouldn’t want to go watch the man she used to care about marry another woman.”
“That cousin is a real piece of work,” he sneers as if she’s personally offended him too.
“Is it a shotgun wedding? Did they just break up pretty recently? How do you know all of this?”
“Apparently it was a big scandal in their hometown and all over social media. People talk about that shit. And as far as I know, it was recent, which is probably why Lucy moved out here, to get away from the bullshit.”
“Yeah, that makes sense,” I agree.
“You really haven’t fucked her yet?” Malcolm asks bluntly, catching me off-guard at the sudden change in direction of our conversation.
“No,” I respond a little too quickly.
“Admit it. You’ve at least thought about it, haven’t you?”
“God, no.” That answer came out more adamantly than I intended, making me sound like the liar I am. Which is why I add, “She’s not really my type, and she’s too young for me.”
“There’s barely four years age difference,” Malcolm points out. “Not that I’m advocating that you should screw her or anything. If you need a quick fuck, do it with a club slut or someone who won’t expect you to propose to her before the cum dries. Lucy’s a good girl, but she’s wife material. I doubt you’ll ever fucking want to say vows again.”
“That’s true,” I admit after getting burnt by Ellie. And Malcolm’s right — Lucy is the type of girl who is looking for a man to marry, not fuck on the side. Sleeping with her would give her the wrong idea about us, no matter how good it may feel. Oh, and I bet it would feel so fucking good…
Goddamn it.
I have got to stop thinking about her naked.
And since porn won’t break my heart or abandon me, it’s the only option I have left to try and get her out of my head.
Chapter Eleven
Lucy
* * *
I did a bad, bad thing.
While Nash was at his meeting, I got bored and nosy, so I went on his laptop, looking up his search and website history. Mostly his browsing was for motorcycle parts, video games, the dead guys’ obits, and other normal guy stuff. Still, I installed some software on his laptop that will allow me to remotely access his computer from my apartment. I convinced myself that I will only use it to make sure he’s not buying any guns or research other ways to hurt himself. Malcolm did tell me to keep an eye on him.
It’s a bullshit excuse since I believe what Nash said about how he was drunk that night on the roof and just wanted to feel something after being numb for so long. I don’t think he would try anything like that again, but who knows, right? I’d rather be nosy and safe than sorry.