sip at his bourbon, the same type Ash favors, and sets the glass down. Both of his security guards are eyeing me like they’re ready to take me out but anyone who willingly takes money from this man deserves to die screaming.
Maybe someday they will.
Probably at Joey’s hands, the little freak never really cared who he was torturing just so long as they screamed.
“You have enough skeletons of your own. How long are we going to play this game, Crawford? How long are you going to keep panting after that girl? It’s disgusting really, but it keeps me entertained. I enjoy watching you fall deeper and deeper into a life of crime to save her.”
I shrug. “As long as you’re entertained you’re too busy to hurt her and that’s all I care about. Playing with little girls is beneath you, pick some harder game.”
His eyes are like icy cold voids, nothing behind the blue depths of them but a man who feels nothing. Truly, nothing. Most killers are made, something in their childhood or early teens breaks them until they’re able to inflict that kind of pain onto others.
Senior was born with no soul.
Nothing.
“A shipment of fresh meat was delivered in DC by an old friend of mine. Three of them are to your tastes and I’ve already booked you a room at the Oakridge.”
It’s my least favorite way of making this man disappear, but I learned a long time ago that there’s nothing I wouldn’t sacrifice to keep Avery safe. He knows it too, it’s there in the little triumphant look on his face because he knows how much it costs me to hand other girls over to him to spare Avery from his sick little fantasies. It’s enough that he’ll go along with it… for now.
I’ll need to up my game for the next time they’re due to cross paths.
He finishes off the last of his drink and stands, buttoning up his suit jacket in that old money way that can’t be taught, only bred into you.
I have it as well, though I’m nowhere near as proud of it as my peers. I stand there and watch him walk away, prepared to follow him out just to be sure he actually leaves without seeing his children.
“Oh, Crawford? Wherever did your brother disappear to? Bingley had just negotiated a price for Avery and then suddenly he was gone. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you? Your father was talking about his stay in Thailand again and jogged my memory, but it’s unusual for him to cut off all communication like that.”
The smirk he throws over his shoulder as he speaks is dangerous, sharp, and knowing.
I’m dead if my father finds out where he is.
Chapter Six
Aodhan talks me into staying at the loft with him for a few more days, just until we have more of a handle on the Amanda Donnelley situation. I’m still convinced that a knife in the dark is all we need to get rid of the bitch, but until we find out where she sleeps, I have to be a little more cautious.
We stop off at my ranch to pack some bags so I don’t have to keep raiding Odie’s wardrobe to stay decent. I’d love nothing more than to spend some time shopping and replacing everything, nothing ever beating the feeling of crisp, clean, and new, but we don’t have the time for that.
Between all of the research and prep for the Game and now sifting through all of the Crawfords’ dirty laundry until I find out how the fuck Amanda fits into the picture, I’m going to be very busy.
I hand a giant box of file and paperwork to Aodhan and he grunts as he takes it. “Fucking hell. What do you need all of this for?”
I scoff at him and start filling a second box. “That’s just barely half of it. We could just stay here if this is too much.”
He huffs and starts up the stairs and out of my panic room. “This place is on too many psychopath’s radars for my liking. Let’s wait until a few more of them are dead before you come back.”
I roll my eyes at him but at least he’s not ordering me around about it. Lips had totally agreed about going back to the loft and Illi is happy we’re finally a little closer to him and Odie in case anything else happens.
I force myself to only pack four bags of