Page 2 of Murder & Mayhem (Bloody Desires #9)

“Nah. I think I wanna just hang out at home. You’re welcome to join me though. I might order wings from Wingtopia.” It was a ridiculous fucking name, but delicious wings.

“So my choices are getting dicked down by some leather Daddy twice my age or spending the night with my older brother eating wings in our pj’s? Thanks, bro, but I think I’ll pass.”

Fuck, was I getting old that that idea held so much more appeal than the club? Ari seemed to agree. “Well, if you’re paying, count me in.”

I rolled my eyes. Like Ari didn’t have access to whatever money he wanted. But the cheap bastard always mooched off Gid and me. And since he’d literally kept us alive and out of jail over half our lives, we gladly let him.

“Always, Ari.”

My brothers continued to bicker for a bit, like they always did, but I was finally standing on the rickety back porch of Joey Byrne’s house.

“Here.”

“Okay, last check on the feeds, he was passed out on that shitty recliner.”

“Ugh. Fucking hate those things.” I could practically hear Gid’s shudder through the line.

I didn’t respond, but I agreed. Mitchell had loved his.

Gid and I had gotten great pleasure out of setting that fucking recliner on fire, along with the rest of the house and Mitchell, when we’d finally ended the shithead.

“Wait, Nicky. Something’s off,” Ari interrupted.

Fuck. “What is it?”

“The cameras are off.” Besides the house on the corner, Byrne’s was the only one with security.

The only difference was that all his cameras were inside his house.

He recorded every single room, including the bathroom.

Some of the footage we’d found once Ari had hacked them had made me want to puke. Ari had.

“All of them?”

“No. Just the ones in the living room. Like it was broken or turned off manually. Let me see if I can get audio on one of the others.”

While Ari did his thing, I snuck closer, trying to see inside. The back door led into a mud room and then the kitchen. But if you turned at the right angle, you could see just past it. It probably wouldn’t be good enough, but maybe.

I twisted as much as possible, but I couldn’t get any visuals.

At first, I heard nothing. Then there was a sound, something like an anguished cry.

“I swear to fuck, I’ll do it, Joey! Tell me where he is.

” I couldn’t hear Joey’s response, but I immediately clocked two things.

Joey wasn’t alone, and whoever was there was trying to take my kill. Clearly in a very amateur way.

“I’m going in,” I told my brothers.

Immediately, Ari was yelling at me to fucking wait, but I’d put my gloves on already and was picking the pathetic lock that barely passed as security, then I quietly slipped inside.

I tuned my brothers out, glad the door didn’t squeak.

The intruder was still yelling. He sounded pretty young and frantic.

He wasn’t in control, and that was usually a bad sign.

I could hear Joey too, but his words weren’t clear.

His tone was condescending though, not frightened.

He didn’t consider this other person a threat.

I walked confidently through the kitchen, and neither man even turned this way, still focused on each other, so I stayed in their blind spot.

Joey was exactly where Ari had said he would be, in his disgusting recliner that looked so much like Mitchell’s, it made me queasy.

His back was to me so I couldn’t see his expressions, but he seemed relaxed, like he was positive that this guy wouldn’t pull the trigger.

He was so fucking young looking. I’d be shocked if he was a day older than 18.

The guy had shaggy sandy-brown hair that fell in his eyes.

He kept having to throw his head back to get it out of his face.

He was wearing an oversized black hoodie, and his hands shook where he pointed the pistol at Joey.

He was skinny, too skinny, his cheeks gaunt like he’d missed one too many meals in his life.

He wasn’t short, but I was pretty sure that Joey could snap him in two without breaking a sweat.

Something about his face looked vaguely familiar.

I didn’t have a good feeling about this.

Was this one of Joey’s victims? The asshole in question leaned forward in the chair like he didn’t have a care in the world, and the other guy flinched and staggered back a step, though he didn’t lower the gun.

Still, this was about to be a shit show if I didn’t intervene.

“Ari,” I whispered. “I’m already in. He’s practically a fucking kid. He’s going to lose it, or worse, Joey’s gonna get the jump on him and he’ll end up dead. I’m not letting that happen.”

“Damn it, Nick. Can’t one fucking job go easily?” But I was already grinning. Ari was switching gears, preparing for my occasional impulsiveness.

“Hey, mine are usually a breeze. You’re bitching at the wrong brother.”

“Rude!” Gid called back as Ari said, “Coming from the one who is going off script as we speak.”

I shrugged. There was no helping this. And I knew if they could see, they would agree.

Speaking of which, I scanned the shitty kitchen until I saw one of the cameras on the counter.

The freak hadn’t even tried to hide them.

I picked it up and angled it so Ari could see the scene.

Immediately, I sensed the change in them .

“I’m going to try running facial recognition on the kid.”

“Okay. It’s getting worse and neither of them even hear me. I’m making my move.”

I slipped out of my hiding spot in the kitchen and walked casually into the living room, leaving the camera in a place where Ari could monitor. He’d scrub all of them when I left anyway, so I wasn’t worried.

“Word of advice, turn the safety off when you’re threatening to shoot someone.”

The guy jumped, the gun swinging violently in my direction. Joey took that as a sign to take his shot and launched for him, but he was fooling himself if he thought I’d let that happen. Instantly, I was blocking his path and pushed him back into the chair. My gloved hand wrapped around his throat.

“I don’t fucking think so, Joey. Today is still your day of reckoning. But it’s not him that’ll end you. It’s me.”