Page 7 of Seven Graves

It’s been a long time since I’ve been bloody enough to take two showers in one day, and one would think that said shower would be refreshing and clean…

but this one will go down in history as the one shower I felt cleaner getting into than I did getting out.

It took a long time, and the hot water was nearly gone before it finally ran clear and the last of Braughton’s blood went down the drain.

I wanted to be the psycho that wore it like a championship belt for a few days, seasoning myself with revenge.

But at least I still have the finger.

I laid on my bed with one arm behind my head, turning and flipping the severed appendage between my own fingers, like a drummer with a pair of sticks.

I felt lighter…like a tremendous weight had just rid itself from my body.

Maybe I should make a necklace out of it.

Or grind the bone down and have a new handle made for my favorite knife? Or—

“Malek…” Three heavy knocks sounded at my door, and I raised my eyes to it like I had some kind of x-ray vision.

“Your dad needs you. Can I come in?” It’s Conor.

And it sounds like something’s wrong. What that might be, I have not the slightest clue.

I got up and answered the door, only opening it wide enough to stick my head through it.

“What.”

“Your dad needs you. The cute little lassie he’s got cleanin’ the mess clued him in about the finger and he wants you to come down there. I’m sorry, mate. I didn’t think it would be an issue. That thought didn’t even cross my mind.”

“It shouldn’t be an issue.” We stared at each other, brows knotted and both of us trying to figure out what to say, until I finally sighed, slammed the door in his face and slipped my bare feet into my boots. I didn’t bother tying them and I stuffed the finger into my pocket.

I heard Pop talking right before I stepped through the doorway and almost did a double take…for two very different reasons. One, the room I walked into did not look like the room I’d left a few hours ago. And two?

Two…

There’s no fucking way…

I thought maybe all the flying emotion had clouded my mind and I just thought …I saw Shavonn standing next to my father. But another glance and a few blinks later…

I swallowed and faced him, trying and failing to put off that I wasn’t affected by her.

“You rang?”

“Don’t play coy with me, boy. This was ‘yer job. ‘Fer a very specific reason . You keepin’ his finger as a trophy?”

“What if I am? Did I not earn it as well as he earned his grand exit?”

“You know better, Malek. If you’d just asked, I woulda told you to take his cock , if that’s what you wanted.” I tried to pay attention, but my eyes found their way back to the beautiful little stranger doing her best not to look at me. “Are you listening to me?”

“Who’s this?” I asked, wondering if he was seeing what I was seeing at all. It certainly didn’t seem like it.

“She’s cleanin’ up ‘yer mess. Otherwise, none of ‘yer concern.” I turned toward her, moving a couple steps in her direction…but she wouldn’t even lift her head.

“Malek.” I reached under her chin, and I swear…

so much about her features looked like they were some paler, strangely more beautiful, mold of the angel I lost. I needed to see those eyes, and damn if she’d raise them to me.

“So, you’re the reason I’m givin’ up somethin’ I’ve waited for. For seven years .”

Still nothing. Like she outright refuses.

“Enough, Malek. Leave ‘er alone. Give it up and make ‘yerself scarce. I’ll deal with you later.” That’s fine.

Let him. I’m not leaving until she looks at me.

One way or another. I lifted her chin just a bit higher.

I was gentle, barely touching her, really.

But clearly, she came ready for war. If there was one thing Shavonn couldn’t resist…

it was my charm. This lass, though…she felt like if I dared touch any other part of her, it’d be trembling. I chuckled under my breath.

“You afraid of me, sweetheart?”

That did it. Her brows twitched and lowered, and those eyes opened up to glare at me. As blue and fierce as an angry ocean. The way I’d always remember them. I nearly choked.

“No. It’s late and I still have hours of work to do.

I’d appreciate it if you’d stop touching me and let me get on with it.

” That voice…maybe a bit lower and a tad raspier than hers was, but…

it jolted everything in me. I couldn’t help but smile at her.

My thumb took on a life of its own, remembering old habits like it was a ghost of a memory crawling under my very fucking skin…

and I slid it across her plump lower lip, nearly salivating at my burning need to kiss her—

That was until she snapped her teeth, nearly taking the fucking thing clean off. A little viper . Pop and Conor cracked, chuckling at it and I reared back, conceding a step.

“Bleedin’ Christ. Nathair Bheag… ”

I’m positive she didn’t have a clue what I just said, nor did she look like she cared.

I forfeit. I reached into my pocket, pulling out Braughton’s finger and waved it at her before pulling that wedding ring off—the one that should have been mine—and pocketing that instead as I turned her hand over and dropped the finger into her palm.

They can have the rutting digit. They’ll have to pry this ring from my own dead fingers.

“Well? Get on with it, then.”

I shot her a smile and was doubly sure I showed a dimple this time.

It was my little sapphire’s biggest weakness.

One that would earn me a free pass even when she was ready to gut me like today’s fresh catch.

But…she didn’t react. Not a ripple. I turned and made my way out, quickening my pace once I was out of her sight and slipping my phone out of my back pocket while simultaneously pulling that bloodstained wedding band out to look at it as I rang one of my best tech guys.

“Evenin’, boss.”

I flicked the ring like a coin, catching it in my hand as I trotted up the staircase. “Declan. I need you to identify somebody.”

“You drop a body?”

“Nah. Can you trace somebody from the Dark Web?”

“Does a wild bear shite in the woods?” I’ve never in my young life understood that fucking expression. He must have sensed my impatience. “Sorry, mate. Yeah…yeah, I can.”

I rushed to my door and locked myself in the bedroom lowering my voice. “Perfect. Hack Pop’s personal cell and get the number he used for a cleaner. Check his texts. I need everything you can get me on this lassie.”

“Oh, holy hellfire…”

“Call me when it’s done.”

And so it begins, Little Viper.