I think Addie would sooner rip my balls off before she’d ever kneel at my feet. Lucky for her, I’d gladly kneel at hers. Kiss her little toes while I’m at it, too. Eventually, my mouth would lead up between her legs, but I don’t think she’d mind that part.
Daire grins at me, the piercings above his brow glinting from the crackling flames in the fireplace next to him. He doesn’t look the least bit bothered by my presence, though that doesn’t erase the spark of challenge in his eyes.
Slade sits on the opposite side, his dark blond head turning to glare at me over the top of the couch.
Such hostility.
“I’ve agreed to help him,” Ryker announces, taking a seat beside Daire. He doesn’t even glance at the girl, and I assume he’s used to Daire’s sexual habits by now.
“Yeah? What’s he doing for us?” Slade asks, his question directed at his brother, yet his dark eyes stay glued to me.
“Oh,” I say, holding up a finger for them to hang on. I twist around until I find a piece of paper and pen on an end table, write the letters I, O, U on it, and hand it to him.
He looks at the paper with bewilderment, turning his glare back up to me.
“First off, don't write on people’s shit. Secondly, you’re fucking kidding me, right? We don’t need you.”
I grin. Is he nervous that I might find hemorrhoid cream on his receipts, too? He should know I don’t need a piece of paper to tell me what Slade spends his money on.
“You can act like my skills wouldn’t benefit the business you four are conducting, but that won’t get you very far.”
He crumples the paper and throws it in the fire, and I can’t help but chuckle in response. Their attitudes don’t bother me—it’s expected when a stranger comes busting into their lives making demands.
But they will fucking help me, whether they want to or not.
“You’ll have to let me know the source of these rumors,” Ryker cuts in. “The last thing we want is word getting out.”
“I’ll point you to the forums they’re posted on. You can handle it from there, yeah?”
Ryker nods. “They’re dangerous.”
“Because they’re true,” I finish, already understanding the ramifications that can have. They have a process, and it’s built off their reputation.
“You trust him?” Slade asks, raising a brow.
Ryker shrugs, unconcerned. “There’s one of him, and four of us.”
My top lip pulls over my teeth, just as unconcerned. I settle into the couch next to Slade, earning a glare that I dutifully ignore. Not hard when it’s like a chihuahua growling at you.
“So, if you’re not bad guys, how the hell do you traffic in organs… politely?”
“We handle the extraction process of the organs before selling them. If they’re already deceased, we purchase the body for an inflated price, remove the valuable organs and discard the rest. Then sell the organs in the market. If they’re alive, we send them home.”
He pauses, waiting for a reaction he’s not going to receive. I keep quiet, and after another beat, he continues.
“Daire is the one who understands the trading system best. Locates the product and keeps track of what’s going in and out of the market,” Ryker informs me. Oddly, I’m surprised by that. Daire winks at me, the corner of his lips still curled up.
“Slade is our negotiator and accountant. Sets up the deals, negotiates prices, and handles the money. Kace removes and preserves the organs. And I conduct the deals once terms have been agreed to. Our priority is to intercept humans who are being sacrificed for their organs and get them back home.”
“But you do sell people’s organs?” I clarify.
“Absolutely, but who we sell to provides a service to families in desperate need. People who have been on waiting lists for transplants or those who can’t properly afford it with our current healthcare system. Doesn’t matter if it’s underground, they still go to good people who deserve it. The black market is full of evil, but not all of us are. It’s only necessary we appear that way.”
“If you’re only extracting organs from the dead, are you saying you only sell bone and skin? Doesn’t seem like a profitable business.”
Ryker and Slade glance at each other, a short conversation trading between them. I arch a brow, waiting for their decision.
Slade turns to me. “Kace used to be a mortician. He’s not a doctor, which is why we went to Dr. Garrison for serious injuries, but outside of his mortuary knowledge, he’s well-versed on how to painlessly put someone to sleep.”