“Your share.” Huh? I stared at the multiple hundreds in his hand with disbelief that turned to suspicion. “What’s this?” He shook his head. “Blimey, but you’re a difficult chit! Fellow can’t even give you money without you arguing. This, luv, is twenty percent of the bounty Sergio had on his head. It’s for your part in him losing his head. See, I reckon since I don’t pay anything to the IRS, I may as well give their cut to you. Death and taxes. They go hand in hand.” Stupefied, I stared at the money. This was more than I could earn in six months of waitressing or working the orchards. And to
...more
