chapter 7

Gannon Liam leans back against the fridge, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “So, I hear you have a mighty fine butcher in town,” he taunts, causing Mrs. Daley’s hand to freeze midair as she goes to take a sip from her cup. I observe her closely, noticing the sudden gulp that betrays her nerves. “Now that looks like a guilty face, now doesn’t, brother?” Liam says, nudging me. “Very guilty. Do you have something to confess, love? Want to get it off your chest before you meet your maker?” Caught off guard by Liam’s comment, Mrs. Daley stammers. “What do you mean?” she says, and I click my tongue. Her fake confusion only fuels our amusement. I decide to play along, my voice dripping with phony innocence. “Oh, we were just hoping for a friendly chat, a little slaughter, but if you insist on being difficult, I suppose a little practice won’t hurt.” I extend my hand toward Liam. Liam, always prepared, retrieves a rolled-up leather pouch from the pocket of his jacket and hands it to me