Page 12 of It Hurts Me
He stilled as his eyes quickly darted away in shame. “You know that’s not what I meant.”
I blew the smoke out of my mouth and let it float in front of my face before it drifted away.
“You’re in a bad mood.”
“I’m always in a bad mood.”
“Not when you see me.”
A sarcastic smirk moved on to my lips. “That’s what you think.”
“That’s what I know. So, what’s up?” He reached for a cigar from the tray and lit up, continuing to ignore the entertainment directly in front of us. This part of the club was exclusive to members like me, so the hottest women were put in here, while the rest were for the public.
“I figured out who killed Killian.”
When Axel heard that, he stiffened in seriousness. He didn’t bombard me with questions.
“I warned him I don’t know how many fucking times, and he didn’t listen.”
“Who was it?”
“The Brotherhood.”
“Who paid for the contract?”
“That I don’t know.” I spoke with the cigar tucked in the corner of my mouth. “I tried to make a deal with Bolton, but he wouldn’t negotiate. Says his integrity can’t be bought, but how much integrity can a killer really have?”
Axel let the cigar rest between his fingertips as he stared at my face.
“He said he would give me the name for a chunk of my business. In his fucking dreams…”
“Where does that leave you?” Axel asked.
“I told him I would come for him, and if he doesn’t want to end up like my brother did, he better see reason.” Killian had been gone five years now. His death had been shrouded in mystery. He’d gotten involved in the banking sector, not the banking system most people knew, but the corrupt one that no one knew about. Full of fraud, corruption, and scandal. The kind of shit that made major banks fail. I wasn’t sure what he’d done to get a hit put on him, but he’d obviously pissed off the wrong person. I didn’t have any leads and didn’t uncover any once I had the power of the Skull Kings in my grasp, so I’d gone to the Brotherhood directly. Most people wouldn’t challenge a group of merciless killers, but I wasn’t most people.
“You think he’ll come around?”
“No,” I said. “But that’s fine because I want to kill him anyway.”
“You want to kill the leader of the Brotherhood?” he asked with slight skepticism.
I let the smoke coat my tongue once more, felt my mouth grow dry as the smoke absorbed all the moisture. “I want to kill the man who ended my brother’s life—and I will.”
5
ASTRID
My husband was gone for a couple days on assignment. He didn’t give me the details of his whereabouts because I’d rather not know. Whenever he left, it meant he was about to kill someone and hide the body so well that no one would ever find it.
My husband was a killer.
Even if he only killed bad men, it made me sick sometimes.
He came home just before dinner, wearing the same outfit as when he’d left, his jeans, boots, and his olive-green coat. He hung it up on the coatrack then stepped into the kitchen. “Something smells good.” He greeted me with a warm smile and a twinkle in his eyes, like he was happy to see me.
I moved around the kitchen island and greeted him with a hug and a kiss. “It smells good because it’s your favorite.”
“Thank you, Astrid.”