6

Working with Da meant being his fists. So far it was a miracle I’d avoided wet work, but it seemed like my time had come.

Before the year was out, I knew I’d have my first kill under my belt—

“Declan?”

The soft voice, the whisper of my name, broke into my thoughts.

Before I could get angry at having my space invaded, my private place that was free from the Irish Mob’s taint because no Westie would be caught dead here, I saw her.

She was like an angel.

A dark-haired one.

Her face was petite, rounded at the chin with the tiniest little indent in the middle, and her cheeks were rosy with the cold. Her eyes were bright with expectation, and her smile was hesitant as she looked at me like she expected me not to know her.

But I did.

I knew her.

I&