“What is it?” I ask.
“Nothing, uh. Yeah, it’s fine.” His smile is forced as fuck.
I knew this would happen eventually—the reality of who I am, what I do, what I like to do would be too much for him.
He twists around to turn off his bedside lamp and then climbs under the covers. I fling them off and climb on top of him, bracket his head with my forearms, and have to admire how he doesn’t look away, not this time.
“I’m not letting you go.” I try to sound as unthreatening as possible, but that’s hard considering my words and the truth in them. “I know this isn’t your world, Colby,” I whisper, leaning close to ghost my lips over his while he stays completely still. “I’ll do my best to shield you from it if that’s what it takes, but I’m not letting you go.”
“That’s not—I don’t have a problem withyour world,” he emphasizes and rolls his eyes at me. I feel him try to move his hands, so I reach down quickly, pinning his wrists by his hips. “Let me use my hands, dammit,” he hisses.
I keep holding him for a moment longer, then I let go of him slowly, returning my forearms to his head. Hesurprises me yet a-fucking-gain when he wraps his arms around me and traces imaginary patterns on my back.
“I just need a moment, Eian, to come to terms with the fact that I was actually fucking disappointed that you didn’t kill him.”
“Oh,” is my brilliant answer to that.
“Yeah, oh,” he mocks me, but he looks adorable so I lean down and kiss him. A quick, firm press of lips only, but I can feel him hardening under me through the fabric of his pajama pants.
I don’t give him a chance to keep the conversation going. I’ve talked enough today to last me a lifetime.
15
COLBY
“What kind of piece of shit do you have to be for your own sister to sell you out like this?” Eian asks almost conversationally, his eyes firmly on Lucian as I watch Rory lay out her tools on the table that’s off to the side of the... well, it’s a bunker.
Literally.
Concrete walls, concrete ceiling, and concrete floors with a creepy-as-fuck drain in the middle.
Instead of trying to talk Eian into letting me be here last night when he was doing that fantastic recap of the night’s events, I decided to enjoy him for the night and sleep on it.
The way I was feeling, I didn’t know if I’d want to be here for this, but when I woke up this morning to the perfect picture of Eian’s muscular bare back as he got out of bed, I knew I wanted to try.
So I told him I wanted to be here when they make Lucian spill his secrets, and he agreed.
Now we’re here, and I’m trying to catalogue every tiny detail in my head so I don’t miss a thing. Eian’s obviously used to this, he looks as relaxed as he did just twenty minutes ago when we were having breakfast. Though I do have to admit his three-piece charcoal suit doesn’t seem as charming in this lighting.
Looking at Rory’s impassive face as she inspects all kinds of knives, I don’t know how long I’ll be able to stand this, but at least I’m here. The second things get messy, I think I’ll have a very different outlook.
Lucian and Cotroni are in their underwear, hanging from the ceiling, the ropes around their wrists tied to hooks, and for the one second I risked a look into their eyes, I saw hate in them—directed at me.
I think Eian likes it when people look at him like that—at least that’s been my experience—but I don’t.
Mostly, I just want to get some answers. I want to know the ins and outs of their operations so we can present the police commissioner with enough evidence to shut it all down.
“Get on with it,” Eian tells Rory, and after a moment of hesitation, she grabs a skinny little blade. Then she marches over to them and rips the tape off their mouths without mercy.
I wince at their groans of pain, and take two steps back to lean against the wall. I don’t think I’ll be able to temper my reactions, so it’s best if they don’t get a good look at me. At least I think it’s best.
How would I know what the etiquette is here?
“Let’s start with an easy one.” Unlike me, Eian steps forward, still talking in that bored tone that I’m not sure is an act anymore. “Who is your partner, Lucian?”
“I don’t?—”
Rory cuts off the lie with a quick stab to his stomach. The blade must be sharp as hell because it takes him a second to feel the pain.
