Play Dirty (Wages of Sin #2) - Neve Wilder Page 0,82
to get hurt like this often?”
Az took the t-shirt from Madi’s hands and planted a lingering kiss on his frowning lips. “I don’t know, qaatil. Do you intend to shoot me whenever there’s a gun pointed at my head?”
“Don’t even joke like that,” Madi said, looking visibly rattled. “Qaatil?” he questioned, almost as an afterthought.
“Killer. But maybe I’ll have to change it to naazuk. Delicate.” Az smiled and gave Madi another kiss, this time letting himself appreciate the feel of Madi’s five o’clock shadow and the tease of his tongue against the seam of his lips. He pulled away before Madi could distract him further. “I haven’t brushed my teeth in three days, love. And I don’t mean to tease. I appreciate the extra care. But I’m going to be okay. I promise. Let’s go talk to Eastman so we can put this behind us.”
Madi conceded, helping Az into a zip-front hoodie before heading toward the front door.
“Who owns this building that they have extra apartments free for injured men?” Az wondered.
Madigan shrugged. “Ronin handled that part. I didn’t pry too much. He seems to have some good connections, though, that’s for sure.”
The walk to the apartment next door took longer than Az liked, but he let Madi fuss over him until they made it inside and he was seated in a comfy chair beside Eastman’s bed. The man was shirtless, the rest of him covered with a blanket, but he appeared alert, his hair brushed and his glasses in place. His small dog sat on his lap. There was something off-putting about seeing the man looking so together despite his injury. It made Az feel like he should have at least showered first.
“Are you here to murder me? If so, I’d appreciate it if you could take care of Mantis. She seems to really like you two.” As if on cue, Mantis bounded down the bed to beg for Madi’s attention.
Sadie scoffed from her place on the sofa. “If we were going to kill you, I wouldn’t have let you freshen up first. None of us care about leaving pretty corpses.”
“We haven’t decided what to do with you yet.” Ronin came to stand beside the bed. “That depends on what you tell us.”
“Ask your questions, then.” Eastman smoothed a hand over the covers, disconcertingly cool in the face of four assassins.
“How did Bennington figure you sold him out?” Az asked.
“I’m honestly not sure. Perhaps he was watching the cameras when he left me alone? I suppose it could have been anything, really. I pride myself on keeping my head in stressful situations, but I could have slipped up somewhere. I’m sure your inside man can look at the footage and tell you I did nothing to signal him.”
Az frowned. Had Cas checked the footage?
“Our man could find no sign that you tipped your hand,” Madi conceded, his hand warm on Az’s good shoulder.
Of course, Cas had checked the footage.
Eastman’s eyes fell to the Madigan’s hand with a small smile.
“You were armed, though. How’d you end up shot?” Ronin said.
“I didn’t know he knew I’d placed the device, obviously. I had no reason to draw my gun.” Eastman winced as he shifted around. “He walked back into the room with no indication that something was wrong. Then a man hurried in and said something to him, and that’s when he shot me. I suppose that was around the time you all stormed in.”
Az shook his head. “So, he caught you off guard.”
“A mistake I hope I will learn from. My research requires that I become intimately familiar with a particular type of person. The men I meet with are not all like you. They aren’t taking out trash like Bennington. The men I interview are human traffickers, drug lords, mercenaries…monsters. I’m asking the monsters of the world to open up to me and tell me what makes them do what they do. While that must allow for some level of mutual trust, unlike my counterparts who interview these men once they are caught, I’m dealing with them out in the wild. We both understand that I’m risking my life even meeting with them alone, so they allow me the courtesy of giving myself the illusion of safety.”
Az raised his brows. “And these men…these monsters, they just tell you all their deepest, darkest secrets. They unburden themselves of their horrors, and you offer them, what? Absolution?”
Eastman gave a humorless laugh. “I’m not a priest. All I offer them is an ear