book 3 of 4
have you ever hated someone so badly you just wanted to shoot them dead? yeah, well, be careful what you fucking wish for.
let's get one thing straight, when bianca prescott wrote up that hit list, she never intended on actually murderin...
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021 can't argue with science
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Once when Bianca was little, she sat atop her father's lap and asked him why he wore that same golden ring around his finger every day. He never seemed to take it off.
Michael told her it was because he loved her mother, and when two people loved each other that much, they got married. The wedding band itself had no end and no beginning. It sealed the promise of forever between precious metals and gemstones.
The next day, Bianca made a new ring for him, with a pipe cleaner and a button. It was no precious metal or bedazzled jewel but she was determined to prove how much her daddy meant to her. Michael laughed and told her it wasn't quite the same as a wedding ring but wore it anyway.
The sound of her father's laugh wasn't something Bianca thought she'd ever forget. But now, as she stared at the table in front of her, fidgeting with his wedding band around her neck, she wracked her mind to complete the end of that memory.
Dread sunk her insides like an anchor. It was only when a gentle hand landed on her shoulder, causing her to go rigid, did she remember where she was. Her muscles relaxed after realizing it was only her boyfriend.
"Honestly, the hardest part is gonna be security, alright?" JJ rubbed her tense shoulder blade, already having noticed the frown on her lips. He leaned on the arm of her chair, "So, most of the guys are gonna be at the rail yard."
The Pogues, minus John B, gathered around a table on the roof of the ferry. The breeze was slightly harsher up there but it beat having to whisper between the crowd below deck. There were still some locals leaning against the railing to enjoy the view of the ocean or at the bar, chatting away, but here, they could talk without others eavesdropping.
"Alright, so, we're gonna need to find someplace and guard it," Pope hummed. "Maybe a little further down the line, like a whistle-stop or something."
