Vicious Minds: Part 3 (Children of Vice Book 6) by J.J. McAvoy

Author:J.J. McAvoy [McAvoy, J.J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781641971614
Publisher: NYLA
Published: 2020-12-29T18:30:00+00:00

I watched as the shooting began on my screen, from the chair in my office. Between the three of them—Wyatt, Killian, and Italo—for backup, they should be okay…but then again, who the fuck knew. I did my part, not that those sorry bitches would see it.

Rising from my chair, I moved over to the side table, lifting the kilo of cocaine and putting it on the scale.

“This brings back memories.”

I lifted my head, frowning. It really was like I was fucking being haunted. Once I got rid of one, the other appeared like the ghost of the bothersome parents past.

“You’re studying the actual plant?” she asked as she touched the red coca plant. I had kept it on the corner of the desk while I checked the grades of the last batches I’d managed to collect. Her eyes scanned the table. “You are studying a lot, it seems. Heroin, cocaine, morphine, succinylcholine, that last one is a bit heavy say. El ángel caido? What is this again?”

“Melody.”

“Mom,” she corrected.

I frowned, turning to her, and she turned to face me, her head lifted high. “If you want to be a mother, then your son is currently in the middle of a shootout in a club. If you’d like to call him and walk him through it, by all means, my desk is open.”

“What?” She gasped and looked to my desk as I focused. “I’ll leave him for now, trusting you’ll protect him.”

“Trust after having no trust is useless,” I muttered, cutting a line. “If you don’t need anything else, you may go.”

“I’m getting very sick of your motherfucking attitude, Ethan.”

“Is that so? I’m am sick of you interfering, so I can relate,” I said, cutting another line, not bothering to look up.

“What the fuck do you want us to do? How long will this hostility last? You asked us to come into the safe house with you. We came. You’ve been sitting around and doing nothing for days except bark orders. We have complied. And still, you treat us as if—”

“You work for me,” I replied, scooping the coca into the tub and testing it. “I’m treating you as if you work for me. Actually, I’m treating you better than that because if someone who worked for me kept bothering me like this, I’d cut off their nose. What do I want? I’ve already said. I want you to wait. Why is that hard for everyone?”

I looked at her, staring into her brown eyes.

“What do you want me to do? Hug you? Chat about the good ol’ days when you were alive? I’m working. How often did you come to chat with me when you were working? I barely saw you as a child, except for when you came to kiss us goodnight or before you left in the morning. You were always busy. I tried not to bother you and not to cause trouble for you. Can you not show me the same courtesy?”

“You hate us that much?”

I didn’t answer, looking at the now red tube annoyed.

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