Charming Killer: A Dark Mafia Romance

One stopped and the window rolled down. A pretty blonde girl grinned and patted the door. “Y’all need a ride?”

“Took you long enough.” Redmond glared at her as he hustled me into the back. The soldiers got into the other cars, and we pulled out into traffic a second later.

In the quiet of the Rover, it was like nothing else existed in the world until I looked down at myself and saw my hands and chest were slick with dead strangers’ blood.

“It’s okay,” Redmond said, voice gentle. His touched my knee, but I flinched away. I wasn’t ready.

“What happened?” The woman driver stared in the rearview mirror.

“Ambush.” Redmond looked at her, rage in his eyes. “I don’t know how. That meeting—”

“I didn’t even know about it,” she said with a sigh. “And you tell me everything.”

“Not everything.” Redmond turned away, looking out the window. “We lost good men today. And Neil’s dead.”

“Shit,” the driver said, shaking her head. “I guess it means war.”

“Yes, it does.”

Redmond seemed a thousand miles away as I leaned forward, face in my palms, and began to cry.

Chapter 15

James

It smelled like crude oil and vomit in the gutters near the harbor. Boats bobbed down on the water and shipping containers unloaded their wares onto industrial platforms. I paced back and forth, chewing on the cigar, savoring the bitter bite of the tobacco on my tongue. I filled my lungs with smoke and blew it out, trying to keep my temper in check, and failing.

Figures moved in the dark. Angry-looking men, searching for something to do. Groups of young kids barhopping in a sketchy area. Women walking fast with their heads down. I watched them and saw it all, the lifeblood of Chicago, the beating heart. The people were its nervous system, its reason for existence, and if they were all dead—the city would die with them.

It had happened before. Cities came and cities fell. I wondered what Chicago’s shell would look like in a few thousand years.

Not that it fucking mattered.

“You’re late,” I said, turning as three people stepped out from behind a parked car.

“We’ve had a busy day.” A woman’s voice, deep and gravelly. I’d only ever spoken to her on the phone and was surprised when she stepped into the light.

Cosima was old, but still attractive. She had the figure of a woman that aged gracefully and kept herself in shape. Her hair was streaked with white, but instead of looking matronly, it was somehow chic. She pursed her lips at me, considering as I stared at her openly. Her guards stuck close, dangerous men with violent intentions.

“I heard all about your day.” I took a step closer. The closest guard, a squat bastard with a scruffy beard, put his hand on his gun.

Cosima held a hand up to steady him. “It went well. I’m not sure why you’re so angry.”

“You’re not sure?” I bit down on the cigar and got a mouth full of tobacco leaves. I spit it out and gripped the stub in my fingers. “Erin told me what happened. She said how close it’d been.”

“She was never in danger.”

“Bullshit. Your nephew is dead—”

“I wouldn’t call him my nephew. He’s Maeve’s nephew, and she’s my cousin, which makes him, what, my second cousin? Third cousin? I don’t know how it works.”

“It doesn’t fucking matter.” I stared at her with pure hate. “I put myself out there for you. I took a risk and you promised—”

Cosima stepped forward. She didn’t make any overt movements and her gaze was steady, but I felt a sudden pit in my stomach.

This woman was dangerous. She’d killed before and she’d do it again if given the opportunity, and one more dead body wouldn’t keep her up at night. This woman’s hands were covered in blood and I’d bet my life she enjoyed every death and grieving family member she left behind.

“I did not break my promise.” Her words were tight and clipped. “Erin is alive. She is unharmed.”

“Your men broke into that alley and filled the place with lead. It was a goddamn slaughter.”

“And yet they escaped. Ask yourself how.”

I stopped speaking. I was seething, but she had a point. The way Erin told the story made it seems as though their escape was a lucky miracle—but it could’ve been something else.

“Your men held back.”

“Precisely. You’re not as dim as you seem.” Cosima’s grin broadened. “I understand why you’d be upset hearing the story from her perspective, but my men were under strict orders not to hurt her. If she died, all of them would die. Isn’t that right, Stuart?”

“That’s right, ma’am.” The stubby, bearded man spoke in a grumble.

Cosima gestured to him, smiling. “I have control of my people. Unlike Erin, but I suppose that works out to my advantage.”

I ground my teeth together, still angry, but the rage was abating. I could see how this wasn’t a betrayal from her perspective, even if the attack was reckless. Filling the air with bullets was begging for an accident, and if one of her guys had shot in the wrong spot, or lost control for a single second, or any number of things—Erin could’ve died.