“Bullshite. Ye always believed I became weak the day I made her my hen. Nae,brathair.”
“Alright, my mistake. Hen’s—”
“Wheesht!”
“Och! Dinna tell me to be quiet. Fine. The hen’s off the table,” he says, massaging his jaw. “Ye’ve a good arm, Leith. So, back to the deid man. What’d he do? Ye still haven’t made it clear to me.”
I haven’t the slightest idea.Running a hand along the back of my neck, I mutter, “Nae. Because if I make it too clear to ye, ye will make it bloody clear to Da.”
Unbuttoning my shirt, I decide to get the body out. Next, I’ll prepare him to dump—once he’s good and solid in cement.
Brody removes his shirt too. “I’m naeclipe,Leith, nae snitch. I’ll keep yer secret. Like Erika. I know she’d help with more than buying cement, by the way.”
He winks, staring at me a beat, waiting for me to catch up. When there’s no acknowledgment on my part about Erika, he snorts. “Och, of course, I’d tell Da!Feckye for spinning this around like it’d make me a snitch, too.”
“That’s right. It would.”
“Nae!” Brody points a finger at my face.
I slap it down. “Where’s the cement?”
“My truck. I backed all the way down this windyarselot. Ye’re welcome.”
I head to the garage door switch, but Brody stalks over and slams the button himself.
Sighing, I share a little more. “Aye. Erika’s keeping an eye on Mia and Chevelle.”
“From what?”
I’ve not the slightest idea!
Brody gasps. “Ye’relookin’ a bitpeely-wally.”
Naeshite, I look pale!I snarl, “I’ve gotshiteto consider,brathair. About work. That’s all I’ll say. I’ll haveye on yerfeckin’arse.Keep trying me.”
“But Da—”
“Nae Da!Just me.Ye wanna help ornae?”
* * *
A little while later,a tin trash can, containing cement mix, is in the bed of Brody’s Silverado. As I stuff Mr. Jiang into the tin can, Brody combines the ingredients. Brody still isn’t aware that the bastard was my coworker. After we finish, we hide him in the tool area, a section of the garage Chevelle would never venture to. I’ll take a speedboat, maybe in a day or two, and dump ‘em in the deep water. But it’s nae done deal.
In the back of my mind, all I can think about is thefeckerwho hacked me while I was looking into a discrepancy in the system at work. He’d placed six mill in a Grand Cayman account. The money could be mine, but I’d not touch the Cayman Island account if there were a sawed-off shotgun at my head. What also frustrates me is not knowin’ what Jiang had to do with this hacker—if anything.
Thearseholeblackmailing me knows of my clan, but he underestimates us. Hmmm,us. It’d be so much easier enlisting my clan's help, but I’d rather kill the bastard myself. Da respects my ability to walk in afeckin’straight line. Seeing how I already screwed my vow to Chevelle toshite, I just have to finish this. Once complete, I’ll be the reputable guy in the family, again.
Chapter 9
Chevelle
I’ll admitto churning in an ocean of jealousy when I first met Erika. I don’t buy into the absurdity of hating the female race, just because. I had my reasons for hating her, such as I’d been slim and trim until my seventh month of pregnancy when she waltzed into town, tiny and hot. A mix of hormones and a whole lot of baby weight did me in. Plus, the whole Leith and Scotland thing. The two of us have never meshed, even after four years of holidays and birthdays in our shared family.
Now, I meander alongside the wrought iron racks in the wine cellar, searching for a conversational wine. Instead, my fingertips trail over a bottle of whiskey. I hold it out to Camdyn as he comes to lean against the door. He’s in a long-sleeve thermal tonight, which hides the range of tattoos over his entire arm.
His hair is shaved on the sides, but the top flops into his striking blue eyes. Out of all Leith’s brothers, Camdyn reminds me of my husband the most. Polite to females. Often quiet, though, he has a short fuse.
Camdyn gestures toward the bottle. “Thanks, but nobody’s coming to get me tonight. They say it’s too far from Lakewood.”