Moonstruck (Necessary Evils, #3)

by Onley James

People had very little problem ignoring the distress of strangers.

“I’m just hoping he fucked him before he killed him, not after. Once you cross that line, you don’t come back.”

They had nothing in common, except they both sometimes murdered people. Not exactly something to build a life on.

He’d been in a dating slump since his brothers had decided to start mating for life like psychotic penguins.

“Okay. What did you do?” Atticus meant to give the barest of details but, instead, word-vomited the whole story to a stunned Noah.

“I’ve never had a friend before. I don’t think I’m qualified.”

Have you ever met somebody who you just let…take you over?” “You getting laid, Sunshine, or demonically possessed?” Calliope teased. “Though, if the sex is good enough, it could feel like a little bit of both.”

You don’t have to be a psychopath to kill people. You just have to have the conviction that the world is a better place without them.”

Did it make him a bad person that he didn’t want to pay bills or change a tire or slit the throat of some Columbian drug lord?

If we don’t jump on the things we want when we want them, we might never get to.”

It didn’t pay to spook murderers.

Pimps could sell one girl or child thirty times a day for years without ever having to worry about restocking inventory. What enterprising criminal would turn that down? Even the simplest of gangbangers understood supply and demand. And that was all any girl ever was to them. Product.

I never thought we’d be a family whose family tree doesn’t fork.”

He knew, in real life, there were thousands of people desperate for answers about loved ones, answers they’d waited on for years. Answers that would never come.

“Oh, this one’s protective,” Avi said. “Look at him. He’s pissed. Atticus finally got himself a guard dog.”

“They don’t call it getting pickled for nothing.” He looked to his father. “The key is to never get sober. You have to make your organs afraid. Make them work with the booze, not against it.”

How had Thomas never noticed?

You didn’t need to find psychopaths to create a group of killers. You only need people whose sense of right and wrong is greater than their fear of getting caught.”

Jericho smacked a kiss on his cheek. “You sew up Arsen and I’ll torture Carlos?” he said, as if they were divvying up household chores. Atticus smiled. “Sure. Why not.”

“Who are you fucking people?” Jericho’s smile unnerved even Atticus. “Neighborhood watch.”