Page 29 of Killer Confections (Syndicate Killers #1)

Atlas

Nothing. A whole lot of fucking nothing.

Rowan and I’s meeting about the South syndicate was last week. We followed a fucking ghost trail all over Ohio and ended up with less evidence than what we started with.

We know they’re here, lurking around and waiting for the right moment. The whole compound is on guard, locking the kids down after school, and no one is traveling alone until these fuckers are dead in a ditch somewhere.

Thalia called with an update on her hit.

She’s too anxious about what’s going on back home to enjoy luring Calaway into some fake temptress trap, so she’s settling to kill him tomorrow night after their gala, collect her check, and come home.

Having her extra hands around for patrolling duty would be nice.

She’s a great fucking sniper and I need to put her skills to use.

The least amount of interaction we have with this syndicate, the better.

I’m exhausted as it is, but I don’t want to sleep in my shitty, cold bed.

The quality of sleep I get next to Loxley is insane.

I never imagined that sleep could be restful.

I’ve had insomnia since I was ten. Mostly because of the fear of my old man breaking into my deadbolted bedroom and smothering me with my own pillow, but it never went away.

Even after I killed him, I still couldn’t sleep for the life of me.

But next to Loxley? I might as well be fucking dead.

Which is why I’m practically stumbling into Sweet Haven during the afternoon slump in customers. I’ve just relieved Dom of his watchdog duties so he could go get some sleep and now I’m patiently waiting my turn as I walk up to the counter.

This has become my new routine. Anytime Loxley is working, I’ll sit in the dining area until she’s done.

Then I find some entertaining way to get her alone.

I could break in through her window while she’s in the shower (that one was a fun role play that ended with her riding my tongue until she was gushing all over my face), or I may catch her in the alleyway a few blocks down and get her heart pumping before forcing her to her knees on the uneven concrete and stuffing her pretty mouth full of my cock until she’s choking and sobbing for me.

It’s always something new and exciting and my greedy girl is perfect. She doesn’t back down from a challenge and she’s put all of her trust in my hands. She knows I would never hurt her and our connection has grown so strong it’s like we never lost time.

The annoying sounds of gum smacking reaches my ears and I attempt to not grind my teeth at the teenager behind the counter.

Blair is what nightmares are made of with her mannerless I don’t give a fuck personality and all black attire.

She reminds me a lot of myself when I was her age, which is why I haven’t slashed her tires for the way she speaks to me.

She pops her gum, looking up at me with a quirked, pierced brow. “Back to stare at my boss?”

“Hello to you too, Blair,” I ignore her comment, but my eyes follow a head of red-blonde hair past the kitchen door windows.

“You know,” the teen drawls, flicking her thumb across her phone screen. “I thought about calling the cops on you the other day. You’re a weirdo.”

My brows knit as I keep searching for my girl. “And you’re a child with no grasp of what love is.”

“I’m eighteen.”

“And? You’re only proving my point. A child. ”

“Pervert,” she retorts as she lifts her phone screen to me, showing that she has nine-one-one typed up on her keypad.

My eyes narrow on her. “You wouldn’t.”

She gives a loud, obnoxious smack. “Try me, old man.”

I’m not even thirty yet.

“How many times do I have to tell you?” I point a finger at her and she cocks her hip, looking unimpressed. “Loxley and I are together . We share a bed, kid. Something you know nothing about.”

“I haven’t been a virgin since I was sixteen.”

I slap my hands on the counter. “Where the fuck are your parents? Huh? I just want to talk to them.”

She shrugs, lowering her phone before resting her elbows on the counter. “Dad’s too busy buying scratch offs and mommy dearest is somewhere in Kansas living in a trap house. Checkmate.”

Well, fuck me sideways.

“Jesus Christ, kid,” I mutter, shaking my head. I sigh before mimicking her pose and holding my fist out to her. “Club Parent Hater is looking fuller every year.”

She bumps her fist against mine, a small chuckle falling from her. “Yours were bad too?”

I scoff. “My dad was a real killer . He died a few years back. My mom is still around, but she’s retired and not on speaking terms with me or my siblings right now. She probably won’t be until we give her grandkids.”

Blair’s nose scrunches. “Just promise me that when you knock my boss up, you won’t take her away from here. I really like her…”

I nod. “I wouldn’t dream of it. She likes you too, you know? She talks about you sometimes.”

The teen perks up. “Really?”

I nod before straightening my back and stretching out as exhaustion weighs my shoulders down.

“Oh, yeah. She’s really proud of you. She said you can run the store on your own and you’re driven.

Miranda may have the better people skills, but you have something that a lot of people lack nowadays. You have heart.”

She rolls her eyes. “Don’t go getting all soft on me now, pervert—”

“Don’t like that nickname.”

“—you have all of these hardcore tattoos and this punk, bad boy look going on. You have a reputation to uphold.”

I dust the invisible lint off my shirt before giving her a smug smile. “You’re right. Do me a favor?”

She cocks her head, waiting.

“If you see any suspicious characters around here, you let me know, okay?” She stares at me for a long time before I deadpan. “ Other than me.”

She nods in understanding, shooting me a finger gun. “Right! That’s what you meant.”

I shake my head before placing an order and creeping off to my usual corner where Loxley never seems to look if she passes into the front lobby.

I spend my afternoon waiting and once the bakery is ready to close, I walk out to my bike and enjoy the high burning through me at starting a new game tonight.

Hope my girl likes to be chased.