Page 80 of Necessary Evil
“Let’s hope she doesn’t kill two people for the sake of accuracy.”
Crap. Evil had wanted to pick up dinner and bring it over to Lucy’s house, but now it would be ice cold from being in his saddlebags. He’d have to settle for dessert.
“When are you going to kill Bradford?” Sentinel asked.
“Soon,” Evil said.
“You don’t think that’s going to fuck you up inside?”
“I’ve killed before.” Evil shrugged. “I’ll kill again.”
“You don’t have to be the trigger man on this one. That’s all I’m saying. Warden or Ryder can do it and you and I can be with Jenny and Lucy when it happens.”
Shaking his head, Evil sighed. “It wouldn’t make a difference. These missions were my idea. The Judge approached me after I retired. What we do is a necessary evil in this world. It doesn’t matter who puts Bradford down. I made the call to have it done.”
“We could see what Ryder finds out in California.”
Evil snorted. “If we start doubting the Judge’s information, we need to stop killing for him.”
Sentinel drained his beer and poured himself another. “You and I both know Bobby did it.”
Evil nodded. “There’s no doubt in my mind.”
“But there is in Lucy’s.”
“She’s got a blind spot,” he said gruffly.
“His death is going to devastate her. If we can find proof he did kill those two people…” Sentinel shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt as much.”
“I fucking doubt it.” Evil banged fists with Sentinel. “We need to finish things with Sarah’s death.”
Sentinel swallowed hard. “I got people looking for Stan. When he pops his head up, I’ll blow it off.”
Gripping Sentinel’s shoulder until he looked up at him, Evil said, “Not alone. You fuck with one of us, you fuck with all of us.”
“Damn straight,” Sentinel agreed, even if he looked down into his beer again.
Evil left him to his drinking. The bar would remain closed tonight, but the VIP lounge had a bunch of friends hanging out and drinking, so Evil didn’t worry about leaving Sentinel alone with his thoughts. Sentinel would eventually wander upstairs and then have his choice of ladies to keep his mind off his dead sister.
He got to Lucy’s house just after eight. She opened the door wearing a flimsy little robe and some red scraps of lace that didn’t hide much of anything.
“I brought dessert, but I think I’ll have you instead,” he said.
“Ooh, Bushmills.” Lucy looked at the bottle. “I’ve never tried that before. Usually I’m not a fan of Irish whiskey, but I’ll pour us some.”
Evil winced. He wouldn’t have bought the twenty-one-year-old stuff if he had known that. “So what do you drink?”
“Bourbon mostly. Maker’s Mark. Do you want some of that instead?” He followed her into the kitchen, staring at her shapely ass cheeks, which the see-through robe barely covered. He was hard and ready for her. She affected him like that.
“I want some of that all right.” He wasn’t talking about the bourbon.
“What shall we toast to?” she asked.
“To us,” Evil said, clinking her glass. “To your gorgeous body.”
Lucy looked so sweet when she blushed.
“Not bad,” she said after taking a pull. “Thank you for thinking of me.” She kissed him on the cheek.