Beautifully Brutal (Southern Boy Mafia #1) by Nicole Edwards Page B
Authors: Nicole Edwards
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understand. She didn’t even understand it herself.
“Talk to me,” he demanded, the squeal of wood against wood sounding from behind her as he pulled a chair out from her kitchen table and proceeded to drop into it.
“Nothin’ to talk about.” She retrieved a bottle of vodka from her freezer, along with two tumblers, two shot glasses, and a can of 7-Up. Hip checking the refrigerator door closed, she carried her loot to the table and set it down in front of RT.
“What’s goin’ on between you and Max Adorite?”
And there it was. The question she’d been expecting all night.
Hell, she’d thought she would be peppered with questions from more than just him after the debacle at Max’s. If it hadn’t been for the fact that Courtney’s best friend was safe and sound, and likely in Trace’s bed about now, Courtney knew her brother would’ve been standing right alongside RT, interrogating her about Max until her ears bled.
“Nothin’.” And that really was the truth.
There hadn’t been anything between her and Max for nearly a year. Eleven months, one week and three days, to be exact. Not that she’d been counting, but during that time Courtney had managed to stay far, far away from him. There for a while, she’d actually thought she might be at a point where she could move on, but that hadn’t been the case. Sometimes she wondered whether she ever would.
“Try again,” RT stated, reaching for the bottle of vodka and the two shot glasses, ignoring the 7-Up entirely.
Worked for her.
“Nothin’ to tell. I know him.”
“Intimately?”
Courtney lowered herself into the chair opposite RT, watching while he unscrewed the lid from the bottle and poured the clear liquid.
“Yes,” she finally said. “I know him intimately. But it’s been over for a long time.”
“How long?” he asked, raising his gaze to meet hers.
“Not long enough,” she muttered.
When he pushed one of the shot glasses toward her, Courtney drew it closer.
Lifting the glass, she watched RT. Neither of them looked away as they both downed their shots. As the vodka left a tingling burn down her throat, Courtney put the glass back on the table, easing it closer to RT for a refill.
He obliged and they repeated the process.
“How’d you end up meeting him?”
“An op.” Courtney nodded toward the bottle, signaling for him to refill the glass. “If you remember, two years ago, Max’s uncle had a stroke, which left him incapable of fulfilling his duty within the organization. The Adorite family came together to show their support when Max took over as underboss. That move advanced him to the second most powerful position within the family.” She’d originally been sent to the Adorites to get intel when the power exchange had occurred, and had she acted as the professional she prided herself on being, none of this would’ve ever happened.
“A sanctioned SBM op?”
Courtney nodded, downing the next shot RT had poured her, once again returning the shot glass for another as the heat from the liquor seared her all the way down to the pit of her stomach. She welcomed the distraction. The last thing she needed was to spend any more time thinking about Max.
“Who assigned it? My father? Or yours?”
“Mine,” she told him.
“Who was the client?” he inquired, his face reflecting none of the interest she heard in his tone.
Courtney shrugged. “That’s more your job than mine. Asking who and why is not in my job description. I simply did as I was instructed, hoping to get all the facts I could and relay them to Casper.”
Casper Kogan, Courtney’s father, had been keeping tabs on the Southern Boy Mafia for an undisclosed client when the news had come in regarding the change within the mafia family’s hierarchy. Duty to the client, as well as curiosity, she suspected, had driven Casper to assign Courtney to go in and see what details she could get. Purely informational and, according to her father, completely
“Talk to me,” he demanded, the squeal of wood against wood sounding from behind her as he pulled a chair out from her kitchen table and proceeded to drop into it.
“Nothin’ to talk about.” She retrieved a bottle of vodka from her freezer, along with two tumblers, two shot glasses, and a can of 7-Up. Hip checking the refrigerator door closed, she carried her loot to the table and set it down in front of RT.
“What’s goin’ on between you and Max Adorite?”
And there it was. The question she’d been expecting all night.
Hell, she’d thought she would be peppered with questions from more than just him after the debacle at Max’s. If it hadn’t been for the fact that Courtney’s best friend was safe and sound, and likely in Trace’s bed about now, Courtney knew her brother would’ve been standing right alongside RT, interrogating her about Max until her ears bled.
“Nothin’.” And that really was the truth.
There hadn’t been anything between her and Max for nearly a year. Eleven months, one week and three days, to be exact. Not that she’d been counting, but during that time Courtney had managed to stay far, far away from him. There for a while, she’d actually thought she might be at a point where she could move on, but that hadn’t been the case. Sometimes she wondered whether she ever would.
“Try again,” RT stated, reaching for the bottle of vodka and the two shot glasses, ignoring the 7-Up entirely.
Worked for her.
“Nothin’ to tell. I know him.”
“Intimately?”
Courtney lowered herself into the chair opposite RT, watching while he unscrewed the lid from the bottle and poured the clear liquid.
“Yes,” she finally said. “I know him intimately. But it’s been over for a long time.”
“How long?” he asked, raising his gaze to meet hers.
“Not long enough,” she muttered.
When he pushed one of the shot glasses toward her, Courtney drew it closer.
Lifting the glass, she watched RT. Neither of them looked away as they both downed their shots. As the vodka left a tingling burn down her throat, Courtney put the glass back on the table, easing it closer to RT for a refill.
He obliged and they repeated the process.
“How’d you end up meeting him?”
“An op.” Courtney nodded toward the bottle, signaling for him to refill the glass. “If you remember, two years ago, Max’s uncle had a stroke, which left him incapable of fulfilling his duty within the organization. The Adorite family came together to show their support when Max took over as underboss. That move advanced him to the second most powerful position within the family.” She’d originally been sent to the Adorites to get intel when the power exchange had occurred, and had she acted as the professional she prided herself on being, none of this would’ve ever happened.
“A sanctioned SBM op?”
Courtney nodded, downing the next shot RT had poured her, once again returning the shot glass for another as the heat from the liquor seared her all the way down to the pit of her stomach. She welcomed the distraction. The last thing she needed was to spend any more time thinking about Max.
“Who assigned it? My father? Or yours?”
“Mine,” she told him.
“Who was the client?” he inquired, his face reflecting none of the interest she heard in his tone.
Courtney shrugged. “That’s more your job than mine. Asking who and why is not in my job description. I simply did as I was instructed, hoping to get all the facts I could and relay them to Casper.”
Casper Kogan, Courtney’s father, had been keeping tabs on the Southern Boy Mafia for an undisclosed client when the news had come in regarding the change within the mafia family’s hierarchy. Duty to the client, as well as curiosity, she suspected, had driven Casper to assign Courtney to go in and see what details she could get. Purely informational and, according to her father, completely
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