Leather & Lark: The Ruinous Love Trilogy (The Ruinous Love Trilogy, 2)

Leather & Lark: Chapter 4



I slide the tension tool into the bottom of the keyhole. Next, the needle of the snap gun. When it’s positioned beneath the pins in the lock, I strike the trigger until they give way. Five quiet ticks of metal friction. A moment later, I’m standing in the home of my adversaries.

Behold, I am coming soon, bringing my recompense with me, to repay everyone for what he has done.

Pocketing my tools, I close the door behind me and check my notebook. I’ve memorized the details already. I checked it again just before I walked here. But there must be no room for errors.

August 2nd. 13:00. Tattoo appointment, Prism Tattoo Parlor. Estimated time of absence: two hours.

I put the notebook away and cast my eyes across the details of the room.

The interior is familiar to me. I’ve seen it many times through the windows. I know where the Orb Weaver sits to do her work. What times she has recurring phone calls. What time she enjoys a morning coffee. The Boston Butcher’s habits were initially more difficult to track. Easier now that I’ve obtained access to the restaurant schedules. But I have observed long enough that patterns have emerged.

A growl emanates from beneath the coffee table. I bend at the waist until I meet the eyes of the cat.

“Ah yes,” I say with a slow smile. “Hello, you.”

The feline hisses at me, and I fold my gloved hand into a fist. My heart rate spikes as dark urges threaten to take over. The memory of my mother’s anger calms them.

Let the wicked change their ways and banish the very thought of doing wrong. Let them turn to the Lord so that he may have mercy on them. Yes, turn to our God, for he will forgive generously.

I turn away from the animal and walk to the sliding door leading to the balcony. I open it and step outside. Many times, I’ve seen the Butcher and the Spider here. They share coffee in warm weather. A glass of wine in the evening. They commit lewd acts, as though no one else can see them.Property belongs to Nôvel(D)r/ama.Org.

But I do. I have been watching.

For my suffering and servitude, my Lord has rewarded my dedication. One evening, he showed me my true prize here, standing right where I stand now. The brother. The assassin. The eye for an eye.

But he gave me an even more precious gift. He showed me the best friend. The one so close to the Spider that they could be sisters. The singer.

The tooth for a tooth.

I reenter the apartment and slide the door closed behind me. The hand of the Lord guides me. His voice whispers and I follow.

I stop at the sideboard in the dining room, where framed photographs face away from the window. The Boston Butcher and the Orb Weaver. Faces I recognize. Faces I don’t. Among the pictures, there’s one at the restaurant in a booth. Rowan Kane and Sloane Sutherland sitting next to each other. Lark Montague smiling at the camera. Lachlan Kane, killer for hire, the deadliest serpent in a nest of snakes. His gaze is caught on Miss Montague. Hate and desire are often indistinguishable to me. But I know what I saw on the balcony the same night that the restaurant opened. I know what I heard. There was anger between them. But beneath it, there was need. It burned in Kane’s eyes like twin flames as he watched her walk away.

My focus returns to Lark Montague. The cherished daughter of two empires of sin. The beloved friend of the Orb Weaver. The coveted object of Lachlan Kane’s desire. And divine inspiration strikes. A new idea. The seeds of a magnificent plan. A plan to not only avenge, but to debride their rotting souls with the cleansing, righteous fire of pain. Of suffering.

The worst suffering is not death. It is in living, day after day, knowing you’ve forever lost that which you most cherished. Most loved. Most desired. It’s being forced to continue existing in a world indifferent to your pain. To realize how powerless you are against the tide of God’s wrath.

So I will bring them pain. The Butcher. The Spider. Lark Montague. And what is the worst fate for a man like Lachlan Kane?

To ensure anyone left behind believes he is the cause of Lark Montague’s destruction.

With the pure you will show yourself pure. And with the devious you will show yourself shrewd.

Step one. Destabilize.

I smile and turn to leave, the cat taking a swipe at my leg as I go.

But know this: in the last days, there will be suffering.

For he shall then repay each person according to what he has done.

An eye for an eye.

And a tooth for a tooth.


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