Page 27 of The Eraser

"Fine, give me an hour." It'll give me enough time to start the process of getting rid of these fuckers. "Actually, make it two." I need to change clothes. I’ve got blood all over me, and Jer, being the meticulously dressed man he is, taught me that clothes should be burned after wearing. It keeps me out of prison.

"Okay, but best be warned, man, you're not going to like what I have to tell you."

Fuck.

"Two hours," I repeat.

"See you then." He hangs up, and I'm left wondering what the fucker has uncovered now. He's a sneaky bastard who manages to get information from everyone and their mothers. It’s what he’s best at. Over the years, he’s honed his skill. If anyone needs a man to get information for them, Freddie’s their guy.

I glance down at the woman at my feet. She fought the hardest, protested the loudest. I had enough evidence against them all... all but her. Truth is, she probably was innocent. But she saw too much. I couldn't risk word getting out. So, she got a bullet in her brain, just as the others did. I have a reputation to uphold. No one knows the identity of the Eraser other than the top figureheads of the Houlihan Gang.

I've killed more people than I can remember. There are whispers among the men that the Eraser is a monster, someone without a conscience. Someone who's not right in the head and able to kill innocent children. They say he's not right. Well, fuck them. I do what I have to in order to protect my boss. I'd lay down my life for the Houlihan Gang and I'd take out every fucker who tries to bring them down.

I pick the bodies up and move them outside to the wood chipper I had made. Over the years, I've made a few adjustments to the wood chipper to ensure that the remains of the bodies don't scatter, but are put in one place. It's easier for me and I can then burn whatever is left. Either that or have the wildlife take them.

No body. No crime.

The bodies go into the wood chipper one by one, and I wish I had left at least one of them alive. The screams would be music to my ears and soothe the demon inside me. But as it is, I'm having to make do with having their bones and teeth be caught in a bin bag. The sound of the bones being ground easily, like meat, makes me smile.

Blood splatters around me. I'm glad I'll be getting rid of this fucking dump when I'm done. What the fuck was Jerry thinking, having his money stashed in an abandoned farmhouse? Fucking amateur move. Kids always find abandoned places to hang out, to do drugs and drink themselves stupid.

Once the last body is chopped up, I move the bag and wood chipper into the back of the trailer I have, and reach for the gasoline.

It doesn't take long until the entire building is engulfed in flames. I'm forty minutes outside of the city center. By the time the fire crew gets here, this shithole will be burned to the ground and not an ounce of fucking evidence will be left. There will be no bodies and the fire crew will chalk it up to stupid kids having a laugh.

Driving away, I'm satisfied with how things have gone. I've recovered the money they were skimming for the day as well as the rest of the money that was stashed in the farmhouse. I just hope Jerry has somewhere new to store it.

* * *

Two hours later and I'm freshly showered and standing by the Spire-the statue in Dublin-, waiting for Freddie. Dublin city is bustling with people, as always. Those who are on holiday have wide eyes, their expressions filled with wonder at the beauty the city has to offer. They'd be horrified if they knew the truth. The criminal side to Ireland owns the good. It's how we stay out of jail. We have legitimate businesses. We are rich and powerful on both sides of the spectrum.

I own fifteen apartment complexes around different counties in Ireland, along with three stores, two of which are here in Dublin and the other is in Cork. All of them bring in a large quantity of money that would have anyone else satisfied. Me? I'm not satisfied until the life drains from someone's eyes.

Jerry owns a bowling alley, three restaurants, multiple estate agencies, along with a bar in Temple Bar. The man is without a doubt the most powerful and successful man in Dublin. Fuck that, in Ireland.

I spot Freddie halfway down Henry Street. It takes him a couple of minutes to turn onto O'Connell street as he pickpockets seven different people on his way. "Good haul?" I ask when he reaches me.

He flashes me his signature grin. Triumphant and cocky. The man's the biggest shark in Dublin and will take anyone down if need be. We trained together. He’s close to Jerry, and in turn the Houlihan family. He’s not ingrained in it though. Instead, he kept to himself, trained with me, and became a loner. It works for him. We are both expected to toe the line Jerry has set. More often than not, I've crossed it, but I’ve never strayed too far. Yet.

"Pretty good. This time of year is always good for foreigners. Most carry their money with them." He shakes his head in mock disbelief. He's glad that they do. It keeps his ass in new runners every month.

"What am I doing here, Freddie?" I hate this cloak and dagger bullshit. I'd rather have had him tell me over the phone, but as always with Fred, it's his way or the highway.

He reaches into the back pocket of his jeans and pulls out a picture. "Thought you might want to see this..." He trails off when I rip the fucking thing from his hands. I saw the glimpse of raven hair and knew immediately who it was a picture of. "Those I've spoken to say she's not the same. She's not the girl you saw six months ago."

I look down at the image and see that he's right. Her eyes always held sadness, but now they're fucking hard and full of despair. There's subtle bruising on her cheek, and I know some fucking prick has hit her. Whoever it was is going to lose their life.

"Where is she?" My words are like a whip, hard and fast.

"At her house. Guess who's been invited to attend the memorial of the death of Mrs. Grace?"

I smile. "Well, what are you waiting for?"

He grins. "That's what I thought." He nods for me to follow him and I step in line beside him. "What are you going to do when you find her?" He lifts his hand and hails a taxi.

We slide in, and I sit back and close my eyes, not wanting to have this conversation with him. He's worried about me. He thinks I've lost my damn mind, and quite frankly I'm not sure he's wrong. As soon as I saw the young girl, I was hooked. She's like my drug, one that I’ve been craving since the moment I met her. I’m addicted, and that's a dangerous thing for a man like me. That kiss changed everything. It became so much more. I need her like I need air. But I've kept my distance because I don't trust myself around her.

She's innocent, sweet and fucking beautiful. I'm a monster. When I take her, I'm going to consume her, own her. She's mine and she has no fucking idea.