Chapter 8
Rhys
People just keep fucking up.
Which is why I find myself now sweating my fucking ass off in bum-fuck nowhere, an hour from the city, helping Chris clean his mess up again. "Boss won't be happy about this," Chris keeps saying.
Finally, I've had enough, "I'm your fucking boss, Chris. And I'm not fucking happy about this."
Chris finishes tying the ropes around the body bag.
Another day, another body.
"What part of 'keep things tight' do you not fucking understand?" I ask.
Chris pants, exhausted.
I got a call three hours ago from him.
"I fucked up," he'd told me. Yeah. Fucked up. Again. "Business" deal gone bad. He was on his third strike. With Finn Murphy, you don't get a fourth. Chris was lucky he wasn't in a body bag along with this idiot.
People were the unreliable factor in any equation. I'd learned a lot of shit the past several years, and that was always my best conclusion.
Once we handle the body, we speed back into the city with the sunrise. I shove another piece of spearmint gum in my mouth. Another habit. Far better than smoking, which I'd given up years ago. But alas.
My phone buzzes.
"Yeah?" I answer, shooting Chris a look.
"Whelan," Finn's voice greets, more chipper than usual. "Top of the morning."
"Morning, boss," I say, ignoring Chris's pleading expression.
"Late night?"
"How'd you guess?" I smirk as I merge on the highway towards downtown.
"Wild guess. You take care of it?"
"Always."
"Thanks," Finn sighs, "Look, I know it's been an insane night. But it's Em's first day at your office. You think you're gonna be on time?"
Fuck me.
I run a hand through my hair, hoping there was no fucking blood on my clothes.
"I just have to drop the stooge off," I shoot Chris a middle finger. He shakes his head, annoyed.
"Better yet, drop him off here. You can take Em to work with you. I'll handle Chris."
"Got it."
When I hang up, Chris looked paler.
"Don't worry, you're only going to get a tier two reaming," I joke as I get back off the highway towards the suburbs.
I'm so fucking tired, hungry, and sweaty. God damn it.
"You owe me," I growl at the idiot.
"Yes, of course, man. I promise this shit will not happen again."
"Again..." I mutter to myself.
I stop quickly back at my place to grab a shower and a change of clothes. Chris waits nervously the entire time. I wonder if he debates running. If he knows what a stupid idea that would be. Finn Murphy won't let him off easy. He really doesn't have time for this shit. But rule is...third strike...straight up to the top.
YOU ARE READING
The Heirs: The Murphy Sweetheart
Romance|Heirs - Heirs of Boston - Book One| Emery Murphy is the eldest daughter of the mafia king of Boston. She's ready to take her place in the family and work alongside her father. Her father hires Emery to work under one of his friends, the charismatic...
