Beautifully Cruel (Beautifully Cruel #1)(76)

Her voice goes flat. “Imagine that. A thirty-year-old man in good health with no underlying medical conditions suddenly dies of natural causes in his cell. A mystery for the ages.”

Now I can’t stop myself: I walk around the island and take her in my arms.

She buries her face in my chest, wraps her arms around my waist, and inhales a hitching breath.

I hold her until she stops shaking, then gently kiss her hair. “Thank you for sharing that with me. I know it’s not easy to talk about it. Tell me the judge’s name.”

She lifts her head and looks up at me with wet eyes. “Why?”

“It’ll be cathartic.”

She studies my expression for a moment, then shakes her head. “No, Liam. I don’t want blood on my hands.”

I shouldn’t be surprised she knows me that well, but I am. No use denying it, though. I say in a low voice, “The only one with bloody hands here is me. Give me the name.”

“My definition of revenge only covers property damage and career choices.”

“Mine doesn’t. I want to kill him for you.”

Wincing, she closes her eyes. “I’m so disappointed in myself that I find that romantic.” Then she pushes me away and says firmly, “No. End of discussion.”

I simply smile.

It’s not like I can’t find out the name on my own.

Plugged in on the kitchen counter, my phone rings. I ignore it. It stops for a moment, then rings again. Several seconds after that call ends, a text chimes through.

Ar mhaith leat tae?

It’s from Declan. It means: would you like some tea?

Which is code for call me, shit’s happening.

I tell Tru I have to make a call and leave her in the kitchen. I feel her curious gaze on me as I head into my office and close the door.

When Declan picks up, I say in Irish, “Yes, please bring me tea.”

It’s more code. If I’d said, “No, I’d prefer coffee,” he’d have known it wasn’t safe to talk.

He says, “Caught somebody trying to plant an IED that had your name on it.”

I can tell by his tone that he’s amused.

Interesting.

Even more interesting is the IED. If one of my usual enemies wanted me dead, they’d try poison or a sniper. Again. Blowing me up with an improvised explosive device is new.

“Where?”

“Alley behind Cosentino’s.”

Cosentino’s is one of the restaurants I own. The one where Tru celebrated her graduation with her friends. “The alley? How do you know it was intended for me?”

Declan chuckles. “Because the guy Kieran caught red-handed planting the fucking thing told him it was.”

The warning Tru gave me clicks. I groan. “Let me guess. Latino kid. Good-looking. Mid-twenties. Big mouth.”

“Aye. Friend of yours?”

“Something like that. Where is he now?”

“Got him in the warehouse at the docks. Had him since the middle of the night, but didn’t want to, uh…” He coughs. “Disturb you. What do you want me to do with him? Fish food?”

“No. Bring him here. I want to talk to him. And not so much as a bruise on him, understood?”

“Copy that. I’ll text you when we’re on P1.”

Declan disconnects. I lock the library door, then use the hidden door behind the bookcase to access a corridor that leads to a service elevator. Then I head down to P1 to wait.



Twenty minutes later, I’m standing in front of a handcuffed man with a black cloth hood over his head who’s on his knees on the cold cement floor of my parking garage.

He’s hissing and struggling like a feral cat. It takes two of my biggest men to keep him in place.

Declan stands beside me, arms folded over his chest, watching with interest.

Through the hood comes an enraged male voice. It’s so loud it echoes off the walls. “I’ll kill every one of you pinche puto pendejo babosos! Take off this hood and face me like men!”

After a pause, Declan turns to me. “Just out of curiosity, what does pinche puto whatever-he-said mean?”

“Fucking faggot pubic hair slugs.”

Declan makes a face. “Well, that’s not right. Nobody says ‘faggot’ anymore. It’s pejorative.”

“But you’re okay with the pubic hair slug part?”

Declan shrugs. “It’s creative. Interesting imagery.”

Stifling a sigh, I look away from Declan and address my guest. “Hello, Diego.”

He stops struggling. The black hood sucks in and out with his heaving breaths. “Who is that?”

“Now you’ve hurt my feelings. Liam Black.”

“Fuck you.”

“It’s a pleasure to see you again, too.”

His voice rises. “Where the hell is Tru?”

“Living with me. I’ll tell her you asked after her. Now give me your word you’ll stop trying to blow me up, and I’ll send you on your way.”

That seems to surprise him, because he falls still again. The black hood cocks to one side. “You’re not going to kill me?”

“Unfortunately, I can’t.”

He cackles like a witch. “Haha! That’s right! You promised Tru you wouldn’t! Sucks to be you, asshole, because I’m only gonna stop trying to kill you when I actually do!”