What Did You Call Me?
Conner’s heart skipped a beat.
He leapt to his feet and stood at attention even though he knew Austyn couldn’t see him.
Something bad must have happened.
‘Mr McCarthy,’ he said carefully, ‘could there have been a misunderstanding? May I know what this is about?’
‘So Morton hasn’t called you,’ Austyn said.
Shit, what did his knucklehead cousin do this time?
Conner started sweating. ‘Mr McCarthy—’
‘I want him gone from Stamford by sunrise tomorrow,’ Austyn cut him off. ‘You have one chance to handle it yourself. If you fail to deliver, be prepared to share his fate.’
He hung up and got back into the car.
He undid his tie, tossed it onto the dashboard, and cast an exasperated look at Kira, sleeping like a baby in the passenger seat.
‘Aren’t you just full of surprises,’ he hissed.
He never would have pegged his meek, innocent-as-a-lamb young wife as a booze hound.
Just how many more secret sides did she have?
Austyn started the car and soon accelerated.
The Hummer turned onto a highway and
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