The Mercenary and the Mortician (The Silent Hollow, #1)

by Alexandra St. Pierre

To everyone who’s ever had to save themselves.

Because, in case you haven’t figured it out yet, assholes were my preference.

There was only room for one weapon in my pants tonight, and apparently, that was my fucking cock.

Anyway, I would talk about it in therapy if I had time to go, but I don’t, so we’re just going to go with good old-fashioned denial…

Not only was I going to be murdered at twenty-seven in my own house, I was going to die with a goddamned fear-boner.

Yep. Maybe I needed a vacation…

“I’m not the devil, Ryan Fairview. I’m your fucking god, and you will beg me for forgiveness,”

like I said. Not one of my finest moments. I wasn’t usually like this. Ok… I was.

I know you’re not learning this much from reading. All you read is smut.”

I get so much more reading done when you’re not here to pester me,” she snarked,

but…yeah. It was a really shitty time in my life.” “No fucking kidding,”

He was giving California surfer with a side of serial killer.

Theo had been out as a lesbian for as long as I could remember. It was just a fact. The sun was hot, the sky was blue, Theo was gay.

Okay. Maybe I was a little gay…

“Look at us! Pimping out our siblings for personal gain. We’re so charming.”

I scowled at him. “I don’t need you to open the door for me.” “Shut the fuck up, Ryan,” he snapped

“I think I might be gay.” He threw his head back and laughed, and I couldn’t help but laugh along with him.

Someone has to fund your dark romance addiction.”

I was so fucking gay. Yep. Super fucking gay.

I wanted her to have this family. I wanted this family.

Buzz buzz, mother fucker. Answer me!

It’s true what they say: Actions speak louder than words.

Honestly, the fact that he set up with his back to the fucking staircase meant he deserved to die, in my opinion.

He’s, like, twenty-eight. He’s basically a grandpa.”

ouch

Not every thought you had needed to be an outside fucking thought.

preach

I was surrounded by fucking idiots.

my brain couldn’t think thoughts.

Same

I squinted and realized he was talking to a fluffy, stuffed highland cow they had propped up on one of their tactical bags. This dude was crazier than I was…damn.

As good as I’m sure fucking you will be, it’s not going to put me into cardiac arrest.”

New toy for ya boy!

I was a sadist. I knew I was.

“Fuck being normal, Ryan. Normal is boring. I love that you see dead people. I think it’s bad fucking ass that you live in a funeral home. On top of that, I think it’s hot that you’re a freckly red-headed man who likes gardening. Everything about you is attractive to me. You’re my lil’ spooky ginger boy, and I love the shit out of you.”

I felt loved. I felt safe. I felt, for the first time in my life, that maybe, just maybe, I was enough.