“No, we are not friends. I will try to make the best of things until this is over, though.”
“Good girl.”
“Don’t talk to me like I’m a golden retriever.”
“Of course not. You’re more of an Irish setter, anyway,” he replied, glancing at her hair as he spoke.
“Very funny.”
“So, we’ve no place to be today. I found the makings of stew for supper. I’ll bake some bread to go with it. Would you like some wine while I cook?”
“You bake?” she asked, surprised.
“Sure. Why wouldn’t I?” he asked.
“I...uh, I guess...I don’t know.”
“Right. Wine then? Red or white?”
“It’s not drugged, is it?”
He looked at her as if she’d slapped him and then sighed. “No. It’s not drugged.”
“White then,” she replied, doubting his word was worth much, but somehow believing he had no reason to drug her. He’d kidnapped her without doing it and he didn’t seem like a rapist if he was trying to rescue women from them.
Pulling down two glasses, he uncorked a bottle of pinot noir and poured each half full, handing her one. She considered that she might smash it and cut his throat but knew she didn’t have the stomach or guts to pull off such violence. Instead, she leaned on the counter, sipping her wine while she watched him put together the makings of dinner.CHAPTER THIRTEENFergus
“You don’t care for me much, do you?” he said as they ate their meal.
“You aren’t serious,” she replied, taking a bite of her stew.
“Aye. I am. I know you don’t care much for my having kidnapped you, but it’s more than that. You don’t like my type.”
“What type is that?” she replied. She was being coy.
“You know what I am. Irish mafia, street smart, brutal when I need to be.”
“I grew up around guys like you. You take what you want and treat people like commodities.”
“How you reckon that?”
“They pay up or keep their mouths shut...whatever it is you require of them, or they pay for it. You beat them, kill them, threaten their families.” She hesitated for a moment before looking him in the eye. “You take their bride and hold her hostage.”
“Aye.”
“What’s to like? You’re monsters, all of you. You stick together, and no one stands a chance against the power of your mob. What is it your family does? Sell drugs? Prostitute women? Assassinate for money?”
“What we do or don’t do isn’t something I’ll be discussing with you, but I will say that we don’t sell drugs that kill people. We don’t abduct women and children to force them into performing sexual favors for horrible men.”
“But you do kill people.”
“Aye. Sometimes.”
“And you do sell drugs, just a better grade. People getting hooked on them doesn’t make it any better than giving them something cut poorly. They just take longer to die with yours.”
“We don’t sell those kinds of drugs.”
“I don’t see how you could sell anything else. Recreational marijuana is legal in Massachusetts now.”
“Aye, but not everyone wants the clinical shite they sell and some want more than what’s legal to buy. There are people who don’t want their name on a list for buying it, for whatever reason. Then, there are states where it isn’t legal. There’s plenty business to be had for someone willing to do the work.”
“You really don’t see how bad a person you are, do you?”
“Ah, that’s where your wrong. I know what a bad person I am. I thrive on it. There’s a lot of people out there’ll eat you alive if you let ‘em. I’m not a kitten. I’m a bear.”
“I think that saying is ‘not a kitten, but a lion’ or something like that.”
“Nah. I’m a bear.”
“Fine. You’re a bear,” she shrugged, going back to eating her stew.
“Your fiancé. You think I’m a terrible person, but you think he’s someone worth your loyalty.”
“I do.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean, why? I know him. He’s a brilliant businessman and he’s kind. The things you think he’s done...he’s not capable of them.”
“You’re sure of that, are you?”
“Yes. Why is it that you are so determined he’s the one you’re after?”
“I can’t tell you that, but I can tell you that I’m certain he is exactly who I’m looking for. We’ve been looking for months to find the source of the heroin that’s been coming into our territory. In the course of that, we found the missing women. All of it comes squarely back to his organization.”
“Then, perhaps it is someone who works for him and he knows nothing about it.”
“We considered that. No need to go further up the food chain than need be. Everything leads back to him and only him. Other people may do the work, but the orders come straight from him.”
She seemed to ponder this for a moment, buying herself time by taking another bite of stew. It was obvious that she wasn’t convinced, and he wasn’t sure he was ready to drive the knife in just yet. There was no need for her to know what he knew about her fiancé. He wasn’t here to save her from him. He was here to keep her around long enough to get what he wanted from her future husband. If she still married him after all this, that was on her.