I shook my head, at a complete loss for words. I could kill a junkie asshole, I could break kneecaps and beat down men who didn’t pay their loans. But I had never murdered a woman before, let alone someone completely unconnected to our business.
Colm stood. “Think about it. Make your decision by tonight. Max will stop by, and he’ll give you more instructions.”
I looked at him, my face hard. “And what if I refuse?”
He grinned and shook his head. “You’re smart. You won’t do that.”
Without another word, he walked off toward the back room, pushed open the kitchen door, and was gone.
I stared at his seat, my entire body tense with shock as the implications of that meeting rolled through my muscles and my gut. I was either going to murder an innocent girl or I was going to be cut out of the gang. I was either going to kill or be killed.
I gripped the edge of the table and worked my jaw.
I knew it was going to be a shit day.
Chapter Four: Ellie
It had been two days since the man in the park had chased me. Two days, and I hadn’t seen either of them since.
Two days was a long time to let your paranoia get the best of you.
At first, I pretended like I was fine. It was no big deal, probably all a misunderstanding; he didn’t mean me any harm, I was sure. But as the night wore on, I kept glancing at the front door, and I must have checked to make sure the deadbolt was firmly shut at least ten times. I even caught myself glancing out the front window and had to force myself to stay out of the kitchen.
Work that first day helped keep my mind off the incident, but when I went home on my lunch break to take Petey for his walk, I found myself going an entirely new route. Petey loved it, of course, but I couldn’t help but feel a little insane. I was intentionally going out of my way on the off chance that those men were somewhere along my old route, lurking in the shadows, waiting to strangle me.
I knew it was crazy. The whole thing was crazy. Obsessing over every little possibility was crazy, and the guy actually chasing after me was crazy.
And I felt a little crazy.
By the end of the second day, though, the throbbing paranoia began to abate, if only slightly. I walked outside, stretching softly, looking out over the kids as they played with each other, jostled for spots on the bus, and climbed into their parents’ cars. I smiled softly, letting myself get lost in the din of the noise and commotion. It soothed me, the crowd, and I felt safe, even if I was the one in charge. There was something about the wild, frenetic energy of the kids that calmed me, or at least it calmed me when it wasn’t directed my way. It was a lot like white noise.
I glanced to my left while standing in the shade near the front door and saw Richie playing with his Gameboy. I smiled and walked over to him.
“Your brother coming for you, Richie?” I asked.
He didn’t look up. “Yes, Miss Boucher.”
I leaned my back up against the wall, standing next to him. Richie wasn’t a talkative kid, and I hadn’t had any more issues with him since the fight. It surprised me how quickly Richie went from passively taking the other kid’s bullying to attacking him viciously. It was like there was no middle ground for Richie, no moderate emotion he could cling to. He was either rational or he was animal. For the most part, Richie sat firmly in the rational, but he did have the capability to snap, and to jump to an entirely different personality.
I wondered, briefly, if his brother was like that, too, and which side of the spectrum he typically fell on.
I felt good, standing there next to Richie, although I knew I would have to pay close attention to him in the coming weeks. I needed to make sure that moment didn’t change something for him; I needed to make sure he wasn’t going to think he could solve all of his problems with fighting from now on. But that was a problem for another day.
“Yo, kid,” I heard a familiar voice call out.
I looked up and locked eyes with Liam Sullivan, and I felt my pulse begin to race.
He was tall and broad, muscled and strong, but not a meathead. He had a five o’clock shadow, which made him look rugged and sexy, and I wanted to pull at his thick brown hair. His pouty lips were constantly locked in an arrogant smile, and it was his cocky look that I couldn’t get out of my mind.
Richie looked up briefly from his Gameboy.
“Hi, Liam,” he said before looking back down.
“And hello to you, Ellie,” he said, stopping in front of me.
I quickly ran my eyes along his body, glancing at the muscles peeking from underneath his tailored white button-down shirt and his slim-fitting black dress pants. I had no clue what he did for a living; rumor was, he owned a restaurant, but there were other rumors, too. I wasn’t sure what I believed, though I found it pretty impossible to imagine that a man involved with the Mob would be such a devoted older brother.