The Ruthless

by J Bree

  The woman next to me starts murmuring to her husband and I cut her such an icy cold look that she shuts up immediately, leaning away from me in her seat like she can somehow escape my wrath.

  I don’t want anyone ruining this moment for me, the fraction of time that I have to just sit and soak Avery in while she’s doing something she both loves and excels at. I can sit here and just watch her without having to worry about her seeing me and speaking to me because every time she does I get a little closer to cracking.

  I can’t afford to break down and tell her everything yet.

  She’s still under her father’s control and until she turns eighteen there’s nothing I can do without him sending a whole country's worth of legal action toward me.

  Once she’s eighteen there’s only the illegal resources I’ll have to worry about and as the Crow, I have more than enough of my own firepower to send back to him. Every favor I collect, every senator I buy off, every crime lord I bind to myself—all of it is to get Avery and Ash away from that man.

  My chest tightens as the crescendo of the song breaks, Avery’s spinning on the stage a perfect arc and her feet steady and sure as she lands her final jump.

  She’s the only dancer to receive a standing ovation.

  She’s the only dancer who is already skilled enough to dance on any stage in the world. That’s a fact and has nothing to do with all of the ways that she owns every part of my past, present, and future.

  I built my entire business and my life around being what Avery needs to get her out of the Beaumont Manor and away from the evils of her family. I’ve never once regretted that decision and I never will.

  When the curtain closes and the lights come back on for the intermission I stand from my seat. I need to get out of here before Avery finds out that I’d even attended but there’s still something left to finish up with.

  I need to fulfill the favor the Wolf called in.

  It takes a little too long to get out of the seating area because everyone gets up and makes a beeline to the facilities here. It might be an exclusive event but the entire building is packed out with teachers, parents, and siblings. When I finally make it out, I head straight for the bar, immediately spotting the real reason I’m here. I shuffle through the crowd until I reach where Senior is standing by the bar, a bourbon and ice in his hand.

  “Here he is, the useless Crawford boy ready to run me off again. What have you concocted this time to keep me away from my own children?”

  I unbutton my jacket as I look around for Ash or any of his friends, just in case I need full mobility in my arms. They always wait for Avery backstage after her performance, just in case Joey or Senior go looking for her, and it’s working to my favor tonight.

  “I don’t need to concoct anything, Joseph, there’s more than enough skeletons in your closet to do it for me.”

  He takes another sip at his bourbon, the same type Ash favors, and sets the glass down. Both of his security guards are eyeing me like they’re ready to take me out but anyone who willingly takes money from this man deserves to die screaming.

  Maybe someday they will.

  Probably at Joey’s hands, the little freak never really cared who he was torturing just so long as they screamed.

  “You have enough skeletons of your own. How long are we going to play this game, Crawford? How long are you going to keep panting after that girl? It’s disgusting really, but it keeps me entertained. I enjoy watching you fall deeper and deeper into a life of crime to save her.”

  I shrug. “As long as you’re entertained you’re too busy to hurt her and that’s all I care about. Playing with little girls is beneath you, pick some harder game.”

  His eyes are like icy cold voids, nothing behind the blue depths of them but a man who feels nothing. Truly, nothing. Most killers are made, something in their childhood or early teens breaks them until they’re able to inflict that kind of pain onto others.

  Senior was born with no soul.

  Nothing.

  “A shipment of fresh meat was delivered in DC by an old friend of mine. Three of them are to your tastes and I’ve already booked you a room at the Oakridge.”

  It’s my least favorite way of making this man disappear, but I learned a long time ago that there’s nothing I wouldn’t sacrifice to keep Avery safe. He knows it too, it’s there in the little triumphant look on his face because he knows how much it costs me to hand other girls over to him to spare Avery from his sick little fantasies. It’s enough that he’ll go along with it… for now.

  I’ll need to up my game for the next time they’re due to cross paths.

  He finishes off the last of his drink and stands, buttoning up his suit jacket in that old money way that can’t be taught, only bred into you.

  I have it as well, though I’m nowhere near as proud of it as my peers. I stand there and watch him walk away, prepared to follow him out just to be sure he actually leaves without seeing his children.

  “Oh, Crawford? Wherever did your brother disappear to? Bingley had just negotiated a price for Avery and then suddenly he was gone. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you? Your father was talking about his stay in Thailand again and jogged my memory, but it’s unusual for him to cut off all communication like that.”

  The smirk he throws over his shoulder as he speaks is dangerous, sharp, and knowing.

  I’m dead if my father finds out where he is.

  Chapter Six

  Aodhan talks me into staying at the loft with him for a few more days, just until we have more of a handle on the Amanda Donnelley situation. I’m still convinced that a knife in the dark is all we need to get rid of the bitch, but until we find out where she sleeps, I have to be a little more cautious.

  We stop off at my ranch to pack some bags so I don’t have to keep raiding Odie’s wardrobe to stay decent. I’d love nothing more than to spend some time shopping and replacing everything, nothing ever beating the feeling of crisp, clean, and new, but we don’t have the time for that.

  Between all of the research and prep for the Game and now sifting through all of the Crawfords’ dirty laundry until I find out how the fuck Amanda fits into the picture, I’m going to be very busy.

  I hand a giant box of file and paperwork to Aodhan and he grunts as he takes it. “Fucking hell. What do you need all of this for?”

  I scoff at him and start filling a second box. “That’s just barely half of it. We could just stay here if this is too much.”

  He huffs and starts up the stairs and out of my panic room. “This place is on too many psychopath’s radars for my liking. Let’s wait until a few more of them are dead before you come back.”

  I roll my eyes at him but at least he’s not ordering me around about it. Lips had totally agreed about going back to the loft and Illi is happy we’re finally a little closer to him and Odie in case anything else happens.

  I force myself to only pack four bags of clothes and shoes, and then I text Atticus to have the bags I’d left behind there ready for me to collect after the next meeting. Aodhan offers to go pick them up for me, but I’m positive that’s just asking for trouble.

  When we get back to the loft, Aodhan is enough of a gentleman to do five trips to and from the car to get all of my luggage out. I immediately start a new murder board on his wall, this time in clusters because we finally have some leads.

  Once I have the entire wall filled up, I start going back through the paperwork, most of it from Jackson but there’s a few files from Atticus as well.

  The Lily Heart Killer is hanging over my head like an executioner's blade.

  I’ve thought about that file and what it means that Atticus is looking into Nate a hundred times over the last few weeks and it always boils down to the same thing; if Atticus goes after Nate, I’ll have no choice but to side with my family over him.

  Aodhan grabs a box of cookies, his sweet tooth far too obvious to me these days than ever before, and joins me on the flo
or.

  “I’m more of an action guy but I’ll read until my eyeballs bleed if that’ll help you.”

  I shrug at him and try not to cringe at the thought of crumbs. “I’m not sure it’ll be any help. I’m not exactly looking for something specific. It’s… I’m looking for things that don’t… feel right? I know that doesn’t make sense, but it’s the only way I can explain it.”

  He nods and gestures at the file. “What doesn’t feel right about that one?”

  The entire freaking file. “This is something Atticus gave me. He thinks… he thinks someone close to my family is the Lily Heart Killer. I disagree but mostly on principle, so I just keep reading it like maybe something will pop out.”

  He frowns. “Who else in your family could be a serial killer? Wait, that’s a stupid fucking question. I doubt there’s anyone who hasn’t killed three or more people.”

  I grin at him. “Me. I haven’t done that, though technically I’ve signed off on dozens of kills. I just don’t want to ruin my nails or worse, my shoes.”

  He grins at me and leans over to kiss my neck, right under my ear. It’s such an intimate and affectionate thing, something so sweetly him that I have to fight off a blush. I’m not the swooning type.

  I leave that to Lips.

  I let Aodhan go through the paperwork with me, his questions and comments more helpful than I thought they’d be but we’re not really getting anywhere new. Atticus is either telling the truth and Amanda Donnelley is the biggest bad on the board right now.

  Or he’s lying, and believing him will get my brother killed.

  I’m still poring over emails from Jackson about leads for Amanda’s main location when Aodhan speaks again, startling me because I had forgotten he was even here with me in my concentration.

  He’s lying on the ground with his hands tucked behind his head, staring up at the wall.

  “There’s an awful lot of bikers up there. Any particular reason for that?”

  I really don’t want to lie to him. It feels inherently wrong to be in a relationship with someone you care so strongly for and to lie to them about something so big. I could argue that it’s for his own safety, but really it’s not.

  It’s for Poe’s.

  If I don’t tell him, does that mean I think he’d tell people? Does it mean that I don’t trust him? Fuck.

  Fuck.

  “I’m working on about forty different projects at once. The Unseen and the Chaos Demons are one of those projects.”

  Aodhan nods and points his toe at one of the pictures. “He looks familiar… haven’t seen him around the Bay in years though, I thought he was dead.”

  King Callaghan definitely isn’t dead, I’ve had him stalked in federal prison from the moment Posey had said ‘Unseen MC’ back in the hospital. “He’s the president of the MC down in Coldstone. I’m going to get him out of prison.”

  Aodhan’s eyes narrow. “Why?”

  That’s an easier question to answer. “The entire club is riddled with spies and moles. The first step to getting the club out of trouble is getting their president out of prison and back home at the club.”

  Aodhan looks up at me with a frown. “I thought the Boar wasn’t family? Did he hand a diamond over or something?”

  “I don’t want to lie to you but there’s not a lot I can tell you. This isn’t for the Boar, this is for someone very important to our family. The moment I can tell you, I will.”

  He stares at me for a second and then lets out a slow breath. “I guess that’s all I can ask for. Are you safe? Is it a risk to you?”

  “Not that I’m aware of. I think we’re all safer the quicker I can clean that club out. Being thousands of miles away doesn’t help with things and finding spies is almost impossible from this sort of distance.”

  Aodhan sits up and starts looking through the photos on the wall again. “I might actually be able to help with that. You know the Demons spend a lot of time down here at the docks right? The fishing side of town though. They’re around a little less these days but they used to be here every other fucking month.”

  I did know that but I didn’t realize he’d see much of them. “Illi did say he’d seen them there. His loyalties are mostly Silver City Serpents and a few of the local Unseen.”

  “Those two assholes we met at his place? Yeah, they don’t seem all that fucking great. Who’s this guy? He’s… familiar.”

  He’s pointing out Luis Martinez, the president of the Shreveport Unseen charter. “Another Unseen president. You recognize him?”

  He nods. “I’ve seen him around. I’ve seen way too much of Grimm and his boys too, is that why you were asking about them?”

  I nod, because it’s easier than trying to find a truth I can say without sending myself spiraling again.

  “Is there anything… specific you need to know? Other than who the rats are in the Unseen?”

  I glance back over to him but his face is open and sincere. He wants to help me with this even though I won’t give him more than the barest of details.

  I stare up at Grimm Graves’ face for a second and still feel the same mix of thankful and loathing. Thankful that I have Lips, but ready to gut that man for every last one of his many sins.

  I think I could even do it myself.

  “I need to know everything I can about Grimm. I need to know his plans, where he spends his days, how he runs his club, if he has a regular slut in his bed… I need to know what he eats for breakfast. I need everything about him.”

  Aodhan purses his lips a little. “I’ll see what I can do, Queenie.”

  Our secluded time at the loft can only last for so long before our responsibilities come knocking.

  I don’t have anything pressing to do, other than ensuring I answer messages from my family checking in so they don’t send the calvary after me, but the O’Cronin family need to see the head of the family occasionally and Aodhan needs to check in over some work they’re due to do for the Boar.

  I’m expecting him to leave me here to my work, but the moment we wake up wrapped up in each other, naked and warm, he murmurs to me to get myself moving because we have places to be.

  I feel weirdly nervous.

  Mostly because I’ve spent years of my life loathing the very idea of the O’Cronins. They had destroyed Harley’s family and were the biggest threat to taking him out. They’d stolen my mother’s money, his rightful inheritance, and were blackmailing him to force him into a life he didn’t ever want.

  They were messing with my family and I don’t take that lightly, not then and certainly not now.

  I realize that the men responsible for all of that are now dead thanks to Aodhan and Jack cleaning house but there’s still something… wrong about going there in broad daylight and making nice.

  I’d been to visit Aodhan there once, at night, with Harley guarding me like I was a prized and delicate courtesan. I barely saw a thing and besides Jack, I wouldn’t have even known Aodhan had family there.

  This feels too important so I obsess and fuss like only I can.

  I pick out my most Beaumont outfit that I’d packed. A Chanel skirt, blouse, white blazer with pearl buttons, and a pair of Louboutins to finish it off. I curl my hair and do a full face of makeup. I haven’t been this polished in weeks, probably since the Morrisons’ charity ball, and it’s soothing to me.

  I know how to be this version of myself.

  Aodhan takes in every inch of me with appreciation but doesn’t comment about just how far overboard I’ve gone, thankfully, he just helps me down the stairs and then tucks me safely into the Impala.

  When we make it over to the compound, he helps me back out of the car and holds out a hand, threading his fingers through mine when I take it. There's no hesitance in him at all, no part of him that seems nervous to be bringing me here to meet his entire family.

  Well.

  The surviving members of his family.

  I met his father and his grandfather at the Game, all the
way back in the very first round when he had stepped in to take a chance at becoming a member of the Twelve. I remember just how worried Harley had been, how he'd been furious at an O'Cronin entering and having a chance to sit at that table.

  I think he'd been worried about Aodhan dying too. He would never have admitted it back then but Harley had never spoken badly of his fraternal cousins. When it came to his uncles and grandfather, he would drag them through the mud at every opportunity, but his cousins were never spoken about.

  That's more telling than anything he could have said.

  The O'Cronins’ compound is actually not at all a compound. Once upon a time it was one of Mounts Bay's very first gated communities and all of the houses were owned by the Irish family. I'm sure it would have been a beautiful place to live back when my Aunt Iris had moved in but under the tyrannical rule of Liam the entire place is... disgusting.

  Aodhan scoffs at the wrinkle in my nose and leans down to kiss it. "Believe it or not, we've already cleaned it up. A lot."

  I can't imagine anything that would be worse than this.

  Aodhan chuckles at me under his breath and then starts to point things out to me like the repairs that are happening to the roof of one house and the garden beds that are now nothing but dirt but were once, apparently, overgrown and full of Liam's cigarette butts.

  I hate him even more.

  "The work at the docks has gone a long way to getting everything back on track. We owe the Wolf a lot."

  He always reverts back to calling Lips by her Twelve name, a sign of respect to her I’m sure but still a little jarring for me considering how much they both mean to me.

  I shrug and try not to fixate on the bullet holes in the side of the house. "She would've helped you even if you weren’t Harley’s cousin, you know. It would have cost you a favor, but Lips is a good person… most of the time.”

  I feel the need to tack that on the end because there isn’t a person in the Bay who isn’t aware that she’s an assassin for hire. I’m not sure you can call a killer a good person, but she is. She’s the best person, her moral code is just a little skewed compared to others.