Page 23 of Bloody Wedding (The Order of the Owed #1)

FOURTEEN

VISITORS

ADRIAN

O n the plus side, Loni was sound asleep in our bed when I finished with my second shower of the night. It was well past one in the morning when I took it, but there was no way in hell that I was going to return to my wife a sweaty, smelly mess after my gym session.

That’s the plus side.

I wish I could say that she woke up the next morning, happy and sated and full of love for her husband. Nope. Rising with the sun, she got up to leave while I was still sleeping. I sensed her leaving and instinctively reached out for her.

Her response was to slap my hand, tell me not to touch her, and that she was tender from last night.

Ouch.

I wanted to apologize. I wanted to see for myself whether or not she was okay, but considering she escaped before I’d even pulled myself up, I have to hope that the rough way I fucked her in the shower didn’t screw up my chances with Loni that bad.

She didn’t join me for breakfast, but I honestly didn’t expect her to. I left a message for Mrs. Gammond to bring a muffin and coffee to Loni’s room when she showed up for work today, then had to head out to the Fortress so I could start mine.

And all that’s a lie.

A coward. I’m a fucking coward.

I blame Jack. He put doubts in my head, making me think that Loni will leave me as soon as she gets the chance. She won’t Claim me, right? I didn’t realize how much I was afraid of that until she headed for the shower and the rejection was like a blaring siren in my skull.

Now I’m going to have to figure out a way to make it up to her. Even if she was, she won’t admit if it I scared her, but the way I chased her into the shower… that was desperate.

The Adrian she knew wasn’t desperate.

The Adrian she knew wouldn’t apologize… so maybe I should start there.

You can tell how unusual it is for me to admit any fault by the amount of time it takes me to compose my text to Loni.

After closing the door to my office door, telling the communal secretaries on the twentieth floor that I don’t want to be disturbed, I ignored the pile of work next to my computer in favor of figuring out the right words to send to my wife.

Morning, princess. I had to head to the office early, and I think you were still sleeping when I left.

Get your rest. Last night… I had a wonderful time, but I just wanted to tell you that, if I came on too strong, I’m sorry.

I love you. I’m not perfect. I’ll fuck up from time to time, and I want you to tell me when I do.

So if I hurt you… I’m sorry about that, too.

There. Like me, they’re not perfect, but they’re a start.

I hesitated when I added the fact that I loved her before ultimately deciding it had to stay. No doubt she’ll think I’m fibbing, that I’m only adding that to manipulate her like the way she accused me of doing when we were kids, but those words are my truth.

Whether she believes them or not.

I don’t expect her to answer me. In her shoes, I might leave her on read. Does that keep me from holding the phone in my hand for a few minutes, willing her to respond?

Not even a little.

Eventually, I give up. I set the phone done, telling myself that it’s my fault for fucking everything up, then reach for my mouse.

My phone buzzes repeatedly, multiple messages coming in quick succession.

I grab the damn thing so quickly, it nearly slips out of my hand. I swear to God, if it’s Dallas or Connor or even Jack fucking Collins texting me right now?—

MY WIFE

You have nothing to be sorry for.

Whatever happened, I want you to know I did enjoy myself.

But if you try that shit again next Monday?

I’ll bite your dick off

I laugh. From the threat, from the relief that she’s not already hitching a ride back to Bridgewater, from the adorable little smiley face at the end… I laugh, and feeling a whole lot lighter, I set my phone down again and finally get to work.

I work through lunch, eager to finish today’s schedule so that I can get home to Loni earlier.

Mark dropped off a sandwich for me that I nibbled at before wrapping up and storing in my office fridge. Some people get super hungry when they’re going off cigarettes, but it’s been the opposite for me.

Unless you consider how much I’m craving Loni’s taste, that is.

My body comes alive when I remember last night.

I’m just grateful my office has a personal bathroom because I’ve been in there three times already, desperate to get the edge off.

I’m already warning my poor cock that it’s going to be a while until Loni lets us in again, but I’m glad that she didn’t revoke permission for the rest of our marriage.

Next Monday’s going to suck, but there’s always the one after that…

Still, I’m fighting another erection when someone knocks at my office door. Sexually frustrated and annoyed that my orders to be left alone after Mark gave me the sandwich have been ignored, I snap, “Go the fuck away.”

The secretaries are used to my volatile personality. Outside of the Order, I have to keep up the charming facade that made me one of the most popular kids in school. Inside? My job is too fucking important to be interrupted by bullshit.

But when the door eases open, a slightly familiar face appearing in the doorway… I don’t think it’s bullshit after all.

Huh.

“May I come in?”

The man in the thousand-dollar suit is thirty, maybe thirty-one. He has the kind of cultured, moneyed look that Jack’s paid out of the ass for. His cheekbones are sharp, his dark blue eyes shrewd, and there’s a closely cropped dark beard shadowing his chiseled jaw.

I don’t even get the chance to invite him in or kick him out. As though taking my agreement as inevitable, he steps in, closes the door behind him, then stalks across the room.

I have one seat in my office. Half the time, Dallas is sitting in it, hiding from his father. The other half, I piled up my laptop bag and whatever shit I brought into the office from home to discourage anyone from sitting down and lingering.

Today, it’s just my laptop bag. The man eyes it closely, lifts it, sets in on the carpet. Nodding at me, he takes a seat, totally owning it within an instant.

Interesting, I think.

Very interesting.

He leans forward just far enough to extend his hand. “Adrian Heller? I’m so glad we finally have the chance to meet.”

Okay. He looks familiar, but… “I’m sorry. Do I know you?”

“We’ve spoken through a mutual friend, I think.” His hand is still extended. “My name is Nicholas Reed.”

Oh .

I take his hand and shake it. No wonder he looked familiar.

I went on a deep dive, researching the Reed twins, and found a picture of Nicholas in particular on the website for Shadowvale Sanitation.

Despite being a contract killer on the side, his day job was owning the sanitation copy and lumber mill in his hometown.

“Nice to meet you,” I tell him, lying through my teeth. He couldn’t complete the job for me on time, but he can stop by for a visit? “What brings you to Harmony Heights.”

Sighing, Nicholas leans back into the chair. “I pride myself on my reputation. Mine and my brother’s. I’ve come to apologize in person about a… miscommunication.”

I tilt my head, listening. “Go on.”

“What do you know about the Hummingbird?”

So we’re not going to pretend that he isn’t a hired hitman then? Good. I hate beating around the bush.

“Enough that I tried to hire her first.”

“And you know that she’s a woman,” Nicholas points out. “It’s widely believed that one of the most successful contract killers in my line of business is a man.”

“What can I say?” I shrug. “I did my research.”

About him, too, and if my unsaid threat is a little obvious… tough shit. I’m still annoyed at the lack of professionalism on his part, and I want him to know it.

“Yes, well, she’s made an alliance with the organized crime syndicates in Springfield.”

“I heard she married one of them.”

Nicholas nods. “Looks like you really did do your research. Yes. She married someone high up in the Sinners Syndicate. You’ve heard of them?”

I wouldn’t have if it wasn’t for Johnny Winters trying to force Uncle Jack into letting him move his criminal enterprise into Harmony Heights by snatching a highly prized Offering… “Yeah. I’ve heard of them.”

“And the Libellula Family, too.”

Damien Libellula. The mafia leader who I mentioned to Loni the other night.

“Yup.”

Nicholas nods. “Did you know she was hired to kill the head of the Sinners Syndicate? She ended up taking out Johnny Winters instead, but she never forgave me for telling Devil everything I knew about the elusive Hummingbird when he asked me my opinion on another hired killer.”

Now that? I didn’t know that. Though I’m glad to hear that Winters is dead—and I’ll have to pass that along to Connor—I’m not sure why this has anything to do with me.

“Interesting.”

“You’ll see why in a moment,” Nicholas assures me.

Folding his leg over, poising his ankle on his knees, he steeples his fingers over his lap.

“You see, when you tried to hire her, she was just getting married. So she passed your information along to me. I accepted the hit, but I had you down for July 24th, not June. My wife and I brought our little girl to Disney in June. I didn’t ignore your contract. I had inaccurate information.”

There’s an underlying danger to the clipped way he speaks, a sense of darkness in his eyes. I pity the woman who goes home to a man like this, especially when I hear he has a young daughter. Disney? Nicholas Reed doesn’t belong in Disney.

Then again, I don’t look like I’d easily pull a trigger, and I did, didn’t I?

I killed because I had to, but I don’t think that makes me a murderer.

I’ve learned that Nicholas Reed and his brother, Hunter, only take hits out on people they deem worthy of death.

Looks like Desmond fit the bill and it was a fluke that had Nicholas flaking on me.

“I’m glad you told me.”

He nods. “I’ve cleared things up with the Hummingbird. Now I’m here to set things straight with you.”

Nicholas reaches inside of his jacket pocket, pulling out a rectangle white card. Leaning forward, he hands it to me.

“What’s this?” I ask.

“My business card. This number goes straight to my personal line. Like I said, my brother and I pride ourselves on our reputation. I owe you a body in a grave. You need someone taken care of, you call me.”

That done, Nicholas rises up from is seat. Palming his business card, I shake his hand again, then watch him walk out of my office without another word.

Weird. He came all this way to talk to me in person when he could’ve just called me on the phone. Shadowvale is three hours from here; I know, because I checked. He must really have been pissed off to discover that the Hummingbird got the date wrong.

Ah, well. It can’t hurt to have a hired hitman in my pocket.

Reaching into my suit jacket, I pull out my cigarette case. It’s empty because, while I refuse to get rid of the cigarette tucked behind my ear, I’m not a glutton for punishment. I can resist one. Twelve? That’ll be a little harder.

Still, I’ve carried the same cigarette case around since my induction.

Jack gave it to me, saying that I was a man now, and only boys kept their cigarettes in the pack they came in.

I kept it because it’s made of gold, and because I know my uncle.

If I ever lit up and he didn’t see it? I’d never hear the end of it.

Now? I slip the business card into the empty holder. Right as I’m tucking it into my pocket, someone else walks through my door.

From the leather jacket to the way he jangles as he walks, I know who it is even before I glance up at his face. Besides, there are only four people in this world who will just walk into my office, even if Nicholas Reed neglected to close the door behind him when he left.

Bas jerks his thumb over his shoulder. “Who was that?”

“No one important,” I tell him. If I decide to use the Reed twins, I’ll let my brothers now. Until then? “What are you doing here? I thought you were taking a ride out to the mountains for the week.”

“I was, but Alexandre has to choose his Offering in a couple of weeks. Poor guys is flipping out. I told him I’d stick around for moral support, but he got so wasted last night, I left him home with our folks. Now I’m laying low in case he wants to go back to the Court again tonight.”

I’m not surprised to hear any of that. Bas, Connor, Dallas, and I all had our reasons for missing the Claiming ceremony, year after year. Alexandre? He’s a commitment-phobe, simple as that. He can’t fathom the idea of having one woman as his wife, even knowing he can still visit the Used.

It’s the wife part that Alex has a problem with. He just doesn’t want to have one at all, but he’ll be thirty in September. This is his last chance before Jack will be able to get an iota of revenge against one of the Reynolds.

Bas throws himself into the chair that Nicholas only recently vacated. “You’re married now, Adrian. Any advice for my big bro?”

I can’t help it. I think of what married life has been like so far, and my lips quirk upward of their own accord. “Let’s just say, marriage has its perks.”

Bas laughs. “Holy shit. You already fucked her.”

Guilty as charged. “She is my wife.”

He shakes his head. “Yeah, but if you need to get laid, all you have to do is join me and Alex at the Court. You didn’t need to get hitched, buddy.”

Someday, Bas might understand. Probably not today, but that doesn’t stop me from saying, “You’re missing out… Fucking someone you love instead of a woman who sleeps with you because the Order says she has to… I’ll just say this, Bas: you’re missing out.”

His laugh dies, a strange look flashing across his boyishly pretty face. “Shit. You still love her. You still love Loni.”

I give him a dry look. “Obviously.”

Bas holds up his hands. “No, no. I knew you were obsessed with her. You killed for her.” An echo of his earlier chuckle, only much more hollow this time. “Everyone knows you pissed Jack the hell off with the church stunt… and, yeah. Duh. You love her.”

Yeah.

I do.