“And you’re addictive,” I counter, pulling my slick fingers free, wiping them slowly against the inside of her thigh just to watch her squirm.
She glares up at me, half-embarrassed, half-turned on again. Then she pushes me back, drops to her knees like she belongs there, and gives me a look that makes my cock twitch.
“Still worked up?” she asks sweetly.
“Always.”
Her hand wraps around me again, steady this time, determined. Her mouth follows, hot and wet, sliding over me in a rhythm that steals my breath. I grip the sink, head falling back, a groan ripping from my chest.
But even as pleasure rockets through me, even as I teeter on the edge, my mind betrays me.
Green eyes. Wide. Shining. Shocked.
That blonde.
That angel who walked in and saw me like this.
Her face flashes behind my eyes as release tears through me, pleasure so sharp it borders pain. My body jerks, shuddering, and I curse.
The other girl doesn’t notice. She swallows, wipes her mouth, smirks like she’s won something. I force a grin, pull her up, kiss her messy and rough.
But inside? I’m reeling.
Because no matter how good this was, no matter how hot, no matter how hard I came—
I’m still thinking abouther.
Who the hell was she?
6
Miles
Thehammerisheavyin my hand, too heavy for the way I spin it by the handle, letting the steel head blur in the dim light. A man screams in front of me, his voice high and cracked, already shredded from hours of begging, but it doesn’t stop me from bringing the hammer down again, shattering cartilage, grinding bone. His knees fold the wrong way. The sound is sickening, a wet crunch followed by another scream, higher, sharper, almost inhuman.
The warehouse smells of oil and rust, the floor tacky under my boots where blood has already soaked in. The man’s suit is ruined, torn, stained dark, sticking to his skin. His glasses snapped in half early on. He used to be someone. Now he’s just meat on a chair, trembling, teeth chattering, sweat dripping off his chin as he shakes his head over and over.
Rico leans against the wall, watching, grinning like a man at the cinema. He loves this. Every second of it. His smile is wide, teethwhite against the shadow of his beard. He’s a showman, holding the fear like a leash, pulling it tighter just to hear the choke.
“Where’s the money?” I ask again, voice low, even. My hand tightens around the hammer, blood sticky against the wooden grip. “You lost it, right? Then you find it. Or you tell us where it went.”
“I swear,” the man sobs, voice broken, “I’ll have it for you, please, just—just give me time. Please. I just need time.” His words slip out fast, slippery with saliva and blood, half choked on his own spit. He tries to shift in the chair, but his legs won’t move, bent in angles no human body is supposed to hold.
Rico chuckles, stepping forward, crouching down so his face is level with the guy’s. He tilts his head, studying him like a bug he’s about to pin. Then he straightens, wiping his hands on his jeans, still smiling as he nods toward me. “Ask him again.”
I do. Slowly this time. “Where. Is. The money?”
The man spits blood onto the floor, defiance flickering for a second before pain swallows it again. “I don’t—”
I lose my patience. My fist connects with his jaw, a solid crack that reverberates through my arm. His head snaps sideways, and something small and white spits from his mouth, bouncing across the concrete. A tooth. I curse under my breath, shake out my hand, flex my knuckles where the skin split.
Rico laughs, bending down to pick up the tooth, holding it up between two fingers like a prize. He pockets it, whistling. “Souvenir.”
“I don’t have time for this,” I mutter, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, tasting salt and iron in the air.
“You never have time,” Rico says, smirking as he pats my shoulder. “That’s why I’m here. To enjoy the show.”
I turn back to the man, watching the way he slumps against the chair, breath wheezing, chest rattling. He’s close to breaking, but close doesn’t cut it with Victor. Victor doesn’t want maybes or promises or men who say they’ll find the money tomorrow. Victor wants answers now.
