“Nothing!” I exclaim. “Don't kill him, please.”
“Is this because he's in love with you? Or because you're in love with him?”
I slap my hand over my face. None of this is going to plan.
“That… No, neither,” I stutter.
“Are you lying?”
“Legion,” I groan. “I just think it's best that Cage and I no longer work together. That's all. Nothing personal.”
It's so personal. I am such a liar—and not even a good one.
“Where's Eli? Isn't it time for him to come back?” I ask.
One Mississippi. Two Mississippi. Three Mississippi…
“Eli will do the delivery tonight. Your comfort is my priority.”
My shoulders slump in relief. “Thank you, Legion.”
“Have a good night, Molly.”
The phone clicks off, and I instantly feel sick to my stomach. Legion will call Cage and tell him he's off the job. Maybe it'll be casual, and he'll tell Cage that Eli is simply ready to come back. Or maybe he'll tell the truth, and Cage will come here demanding answers.
Which is something I'm not prepared for.
What the fuck am I supposed to say? That spending time with his mom and laying in his sister's bed listening to her favorite song scared the absolute shit out of me?
It only proves how much of a runner I am. How, even after all these years, I live like there's a target on my back. And, because of that, I refuse to let anyone get close.
I know that no one’s coming after me anymore. Not really. According to Legion, Francesca and Rocco are dead, and Z destroyed the Society—which turned out to be some shadow government that was playing a massive hand in human trafficking operations.
Even if I were discovered by the public, I could easily lie and say I didn't make it out until years after my father and Layla's disappearance. No one could prove otherwise. But I've found comfort in my anonymity, and somehow, I've convinced myself that Cage is a threat to that.
I should've never agreed to dinner with his mom.
But it doesn't matter now.
I'm comfortable with my life. I've found my own retribution for what happened to me, and I don't need a man's love or his cock to fix me. I've already picked up every little, fucking, chipped piece of me and meticulously put them back together. I'm not broken anymore; I just don't work the same. But there's nothing wrong with being different.
I'm better off alone.
Francesca and her hound dogs made sure of that.
“Miss my face, huh? I always knew you couldn’t resist me.”
Eli’s always been a nuisance in a sort of endearing way. But he’s a loyal employee of Legion, and despite his terrible pickup lines, his jokes are harmless, and he’s never made me uncomfortable.
I've been working with him since returning to Montana, and I have a soft spot for him.
“How could I? You’re the full package,” I answer dryly, though a small grin curls one corner of my lips.
He drops the dead body on my metal table, then splays out his arms as if he’s presenting himself as a prize.
He’s a cute guy—still in his mid-twenties with pretty brown eyes, a clean-shaven face, and a killer smile, though he’s self-conscious of the front tooth that’s slightly shifted over the other. His light brown hair is cut short and styled away from his face with probably five different products. He’s one of those guys that takes his hair very seriously.
With how often he carries bodies around, he’s lanky but fit, and he ensures to wear clothing that shows off just how many muscles he possesses.
Regardless, he’s not my type. It seems only one man fits in that category, and it’s always been Cage.
“I won’t make you beg anymore. Come to papa.”
I roll my eyes and grab my hair clippers, even though the old man has barely any left.
“Don’t make me throw up on the corpse. I don’t think my pigs would appreciate it.”
He scoffs, and his upper lip curls in distaste. “Somehow, I think they’d consider it extra seasoning.”
“Okay, that’s disgusting,” I mumble, faking a gag. I’m used to the filth that comes along with owning pigs. They’re dirty animals, regardless of how hard I work to keep this place clean. Not just from blood but their grime, too.
And despite what I feed them for dinner, I still don’t like to consider all the different things they’ll eat. It’s nearly limitless, and that in itself is rather unsettling.
“If I die, please don't feed me to them. Especially Oregano. That one is tooeager when she eats,” he pleas dramatically.
I snort, finishing shaving the dead man's hair and moving on to extracting his teeth. “Deal, as long as you don't let me become pig food, either.”
He places a hand over his heart, like a soldier pledging his allegiance to the flag. “You have my word.”
So dramatic.
“So what did this guy do?” I ask, nodding toward the corpse.
“Got a bit too friendly with his daughter. Most fucked-up part was that his friend was also assaulting her, and the dad pinned it all on him, and got away with it.”
I shake my head, my heart hurting for the little girl. Oftentimes, I wish they brought these assholes to me alive.
“Have you spoken to Legion lately?” he asks, quickly changing the subject. The amusement on his face relaxes, settling his features into a more serious expression .
“I did earlier. Why?” I toss the teeth into the grinder and flip it on, the loud noise doing little to cut the building tension in the air.
“Did he mention anything about some brotherhood?”
My brows furrow as I remove the man's clothes. “Brotherhood?” I echo with confusion. “Doesn't sound familiar.”
“Yeah, they're dubbed the Basilisk Brotherhood. Apparently, Z knows them now, and they're interested in your job in particular.”
My hands freeze, and my muscles grow dense with tension. “What do they want with my job?” I ask, my voice hardening.
If they try to replace me… I'm going to throw a colossal fit. I get paid substantially to do what I do, and it doesn't require me to get any more involved in Legion's work than I want to.
I live a simple life, and I'm happy with that.
“They want the organs. Evidently, they think feeding them to pigs is a waste of money.”
Now, my brows shoot up my forehead. When I meet Eli's stare, he explains, “They're organ traffickers. And I think they want to work with you and Legion.”
I blink, having no idea what to think or feel.
“How come Legion told you about this and not me?”
“He asked me to meet with them first, get a feel for them before Legion entertains their offer. I'm sure he won't approach you about it until he's confident they're good people.”
‘Good people’ is a loose term when it comes to this corner of the world. However, there’s a surprising number of people like me. What we do wouldn't exactly grant us access to the pearly gates up above, even though we do it for good reasons. The ones we kill—even the devil wouldn't want them.
“If Z’s working with them, then they must not be too bad,” I comment, resuming my work and switching on the Sawzall.
Eli shrugs. “My thoughts as well, but you can never be too sure. I'd expect some type of contact regarding this soon. You might be making new friends.”
I sigh, cutting off the man's head. Eli takes a step back when the blood splatters too close for comfort.
“Great. Just when I was getting used to you.”
Eli gasps. “I resent that. Who else is going to tell you how sexy you are on a weekly basis?”
I raise a brow, unimpressed. “Somehow, I think I'll survive.”
Cage
Two Weeks Later
2022
I call her a little ghost, yet for some reason, I never considered that the brat would actually ghost me.
My blood simmers as I watch her from the depths of the woods surrounding her barn. As usual, the double doors are wide open, allowing the barn to air out. It's beginning to rain, the cold droplets doing little to cool my temper.
She’s cleaning up after feeding her pigs, having just hung up the phone with the lady who confirms the corpses are disposed of.
She’s meticulous. Has a routine that she doesn't stray from. And everything has a place.