She looks at me like I’m not serious. But I’ve never been more fucking serious. This is the longest amount of uninterrupted time I’ve spent with her in almost a year. We danced for five slow songs. I’ve had my hands all over her the entire time. My cock is as hard as a fucking brick. I miss her like crazy.
“What’s it gonna be, beautiful?”
She blinks her big gorgeous brown eyes at me. And it’s as if time stands still. I don’t care about anything else except this moment right now with her and the anticipation of her answer. I know that I should be studying the guests in attendance to see if I notice anything that might lead us to whoever David is working with.
But all I’m looking at right now is how her chest rises and falls with the quickening of her breath. Daria’s tongue peeks out to wet her lips. I stifle a groan. I want that tongue.
“Dar—”
“Wait, just one second,” she says. “Tell me, is the compromise with the partnership for your work? Or for us?”
Both.
Instead of answering right away, I take a second to think about it. “Does your answer depend on what I say?”
“Of course.”
I place my hands on her upper arms just so I can be touching her again while trying to figure out what the right answer is to get her to agree. I don’t think the right answer is both or she wouldn’t be asking the question in the first place. Which means I need to think like Daria. And fast.
Reed chooses that moment to stumble up to us, Quinn following right behind him. “Someone just tried to take out the groom in the bathroom,” he slurs. I drop my hands to my sides and turn to him.
“What are you talking about?”
“Ohmigod, it was crazy! He came up to us at the bar, gripping his neck like he was going to bleed to death, and there wasn’t even any blood at all. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me if—”
I put my hand over Quinn’s mouth to silence her. And repeat my question to Reed.
“Groom. Douchebag. David. Someone tried to kill him just now in the bathroom. He’s waiting in the hall with Andrews. You handle it. I don’t want to talk to him.”
I open my mouth to lash out at him but change my mind. This is the second time that he’s challenged me in the last few days. Technically, I’m not his superior but I know a lot more than he does, and I don’t appreciate his attitude. But this must be more difficult for him given that it’s his best friend from childhood that we’re taking down, someone who has betrayed him by ending up being a slimy prick. So, I’m going to give Reed a break. Again.
I pat him on the shoulder. “I got this, buddy. You just keep drinking.” I make my voice as sincere as possible, since my words can be perceived as sarcastic. If I were in a similar situation, I would expect Reed to pick up the slack so I could wallow for a bit. If he keeps this up though, I’m gonna kick his ass.
I head out to the hallway to relieve Andrews and talk to Tremblay. Regretting the decision the second I step into David’s line of sight.
“Finally. Thank god they didn’t hit skin, by the time you get around to paying me any attention, I’m pretty much dead. I told you I needed a bodyguard. Shit, I almost died in there. And look at this, they cut right through my bow tie. This is an Armani tuxedo; do you know how much just the bow tie costs? Now I won’t even have it as a memento of the day. And what about pictures for the rest of the night? How am I going to explain this to Laurel?”
I wait for him to continue. Surprisingly, he doesn’t.
“You done?” I ask after a moment, pinning him in place with my glare. His eyes widen and he nods.
“You seem to have confused your role, Tremblay. You aren’t the victim here. We don’t owe you shit. You are the criminal. The bad guy. The one we’re taking down unless you provide us with someone more valuable. I don’t give a fuck about your bow tie or your tuxedo. As far as I’m concerned, the world would be a better place without you in it. Lucky for you, my boss doesn’t see it that way. But make no mistake, shit-for-brains, there’s not an agent here who gives a fuck about your pictures or what you tell your wife, or if you have a mother fucking memento of the day. Got it?”
He nods again.
“Who tried to kill you?”
“I don’t know who it was.”
“Man or woman?”
“Man,” he scoffs. “If it were a woman, I’d hardly be in danger.”
I refrain from informing him Daria could take him down with one hand tied behind her back. Sexist fucking jerk.
“Would you recognize him if you saw him?” I ask.
“No, he was wearing a mask.”
“You could have mentioned that before. What kind of mask?”
“Like a ski mask.”
“Like a ski mask? Or an actual ski mask?”
“An actual ski mask.”
“Okay, what about his clothes?”
“What he was wearing? A tuxedo, just like everyone else.”
“Well, obviously it wasn’t a pro, since he cut your fucking bow tie instead of your neck.”
“I think it was a warning,” David says, his face still pale.
“A warning for what? Something happen? I don’t think you’re giving me the full picture here, Tremblay. Why don’t you start from the beginning and tell me everything that happened, and don’t leave anything out this time.”
“Fine. I went to the bathroom. Someone in a ski mask snuck up behind me when I was at the urinal and tried to slit my throat. I must have moved or something because they were only able to cut my bow tie. Thank god I did, or I’d be dead now.”
“I’m sure your ninja like reflexes saved your life. Impressive,” I say drily, then turn to Andrews and say, “Will you radio out and see if anyone has seen a guy with a knife and a ski mask?”
Andrews raises a brow as though he can’t believe the request. I don’t blame him. “I know. Just do it.” I sigh. Andrews takes off down the hall, radio raised to his mouth as he goes.
Sometimes I hate this part of the job, where it feels like we are paying more attention to protecting the bad guy instead of the good. Not only has he interrupted my time with Daria, but he did it before she answered my question about a compromise.
And something doesn’t add up with his story. The main thing being that no killer with even a modicum of skill is going to miss the neck and cut the bowtie. It makes no sense, which causes me to wonder if it really happened at all. Maybe Tremblay just wants us to think someone is after him.
Though, someone did try to shoot us at the drop house. Or at least shoot near us. If they were warning shots, they were good ones. And if this was a warning, why warn him again? Wasn’t the first time enough? Unless he’s got more than one person trying to warn him because more than one person wants to kill him. Wouldn’t surprise me.
“What do we do now? Go on lockdown?” David asks, looking amped up.
“Lockdown?” I ask.
“Yeah, you know, like in the movies when they don’t want anyone to leave so they can catch the perp?”
“You want me to interrupt the wedding of the fucking year and put everyone on lockdown?”
“Well, I don’t want to be killed.”
“What really happened, Tremblay?”
“I told you what happened.”
“I’m not buying it.”
“I don’t know what to tell you.”
“Two attempts on your life, in almost as many days, both unsuccessful?”
He nods in response even though the question was more rhetorical in nature than anything else. Daria comes into the hall, I drink her in. Her dress is gold lace with a nude colored lining to cover the essentials. Long sleeves, high neck, short skirt, no back, sexy as fuck.
“She’s here too?” David asks.
I raise a brow at him.
“I saw Quinn already. She wasn’t invited, so what the fuck? Do you think this is a free for all?”
Daria comes to stand by me, and I put an arm around her waist, pulling her to me.
“My invitation included a plus one. So did Reed’s. Hence Daria and Quinn.”
“What, are Reed and Quinn seeing one another now?” Tremblay asks.
“You’d have to ask him,” I answer.
“Fucking ridiculous.”
“Darling, there you are.” Laurel joins us, taking Tremblay’s hand in hers. “I was looking all over for you. We’ll be cutting the cake soon.” She reaches up to straighten his bow tie, then realizes that it’s in pieces. “Oh my, what happened to your bow tie?”
“Uh, that’s my fault,” I say before I can think too much on it.
She looks at me curiously.
“I was showing him a magic trick that went a little wrong.”
“Who are you?” She studies me in earnest. “I don’t believe we’ve met. Laurel Tremblay.” She holds her hand out. I take it mine and shake gently.
“Mack Murphy, with security detail.”
“Oh, that explains it.” She waves a hand in the air. Her way of invalidating my existence as hired help instead of invited guest. She looks to Daria, her gaze going from the top of Daria’s head, down to her feet, and back again. “And the security guard invited a guest. How sweet.” Her tone, anything but.
“Honey, let’s go check on the cake, shall we?” David takes Laurel’s hand in his and leads her away.
“She’s a bitch,” Daria says.
“It’s only fitting.”
“Agreed.”
“Let me ask you a question.” I wait for her to look at me and nod before continuing. “You ever give someone you’re going to take out a warning shot?”
“Not often, but sometimes.”
“How many times?”
“What do you mean?”
“Like, one on Wednesday then another on Thursday? Just one only. Five on Wednesday, what?”
“One time, one day. And not always. Why?”
“Tremblay thinks tonight was another warning to him. Like the shots the other day.” I pause as a couple walks out into the hallway, the woman giggling and clutching at the arm of the man she’s with. Immediately wondering what it will take to have Daria giggling next to me and holding onto my arm. Not that Daria is a much of a giggler. Or an arm holder. “Something about his story doesn’t match up. He claims the guy snuck up behind him, wearing a ski mask, and attempted to slit his throat, but cut his bow tie instead.”
“His bow tie?” She gestures to her neck.
I nod to clarify. “Right in half.”
“Someone who wanted to kill him wouldn’t make that kind of mistake.”
“That’s what I said.” I pause, then ask her what I really want to. “What do you think the chances are that he did it to himself to throw us off?”
“Throw you off what?”
“Mislead us or just take the focus off him as a scumbag for a minute while we focus on him as a poor victim in fear for his life.”
“He’s always struck me as a weasel, it would make sense if he faked it.”
Quinn comes rushing out of the ballroom, frantically looking right and then left, sees us and runs in our direction. “Mack, you gotta come quick. It’s Reed, I think he’s in trouble.”
Stay tuned for more Dirty Darlings in book two - Dirty Darlings: Pursue coming March 9, 2021. Pre-order your copy here.