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cr: crow (boston underworld)
by a. zavarelli
by a. zavarelli
“I’m the daughter of Jack Wilder. A third generation Irish-American with champion’s blood running through my veins. I was raised on the streets of Southie, and I’m not afraid of anyone. I’ll take on every single one of those motherfuckers and I’ll do it with a smile on my face.”
“The boss isn’t here,but his captains are. And one in particular is staring at me with dark curiosity. Lachlan Crow. He’s third in line to the throne of the Irish underworld,and his reputation proceeds him.
Hell on wheels. He’ll kill you and he’ll do it with a smile on his face.”
Hell on wheels. He’ll kill you and he’ll do it with a smile on his face.”
“Think she’ll be back next month?”
“Do you ever shut your cake hole?”
“I’m just surprised ye didn’t get her number at least,” he says. “So I guess ye won’t mind if I do.”
“Nobody’ll be getting her bleeding number.”
“Do you ever shut your cake hole?”
“I’m just surprised ye didn’t get her number at least,” he says. “So I guess ye won’t mind if I do.”
“Nobody’ll be getting her bleeding number.”
“He’s looking at me like he hates me. Like he doesn’t know why he’s still standing here dealing with me at all. But at the same time, the corners of his mouth tip up into the smallest hint of boyish smile that he can’t seem to help.”
“I feel drunk, and it has nothing to do with the tequila. He’s just woken something that lived inside of me. Something I never knew existed.”
“Ye just walked into my world unbidden. So you will play by the rules, butterfly. You’ll be playing by all my rules.”
“Whatever you say, Lach.”
He raises a brow and his lip twitches.
“I think you and I are going to get along just fine, sweetheart.”
“Whatever you say, Lach.”
He raises a brow and his lip twitches.
“I think you and I are going to get along just fine, sweetheart.”
