“Don’t fucking talk about my mom like that.”
“Bruce, Bruce, Bruce. You’ve made my boy angry, and I don’t like it when he’s angry. You’re really not doing yourself any favors.” His boy…that’s new. Damned if it doesn’t make my chest swell, make it feel bigger than it ever has. Rory moves closer to the bed. “Stand up. Both of you.”
Bruce and his guy look at each other, back to Rory, then do what he says. Is there anyone who doesn’t listen to them? And fuck, do I crave that.
They’re both naked, soft cocks hanging between their legs, arms still in the air.
“Unfortunately, Shai is nicer than me. I promised him I wouldn’t kill you…unless I have to.”
I didn’t say unless he had to, but I don’t argue.
“I assume you know not to fuck with me?” Rory asks. “Because if you do, I’ll bring down your whole fucking world…slowly…painfully…and you’ll be begging me to end it.”
“We don’t have issues with you,” Bruce says.
“But again, he’s mine, so if you fuck with him, you’re fucking with me. This is the way it’s going to go from now on: They’ll pay rent on time every month. If there’s an issue, you come to me. Any correspondence goes through me—I don’t care if it’s a fucking plumbing issue. You’re going to get your rent, and you’re not going to raise it, harass them, and you’re also going to fix whatever the fuck I decide needs to be fixed. It’s a piece of shit, but I’m noticing that’s a pattern with you.” Rory looks around, and God, he’s a dick and I love it. “We all win in this situation. Kat and Shai can stay in that house as long as they want. You won’t evict them, you won’t so much as look at them wrong, do you understand?”
Bruce’s mouth clenches, jaw tight, hands fisted in the air, but he grits out, “I understand.”
“Sorry, I couldn’t hear you. Can you repeat that louder?”
“I understand,” Bruce says, and Rory’s attention turns to the bodyguard.
“I understand,” he says.
“Good. I’m glad we get each other. Whew. I worried that would be difficult, but it looks like we all get along really well. I didn’t even have to threaten you too much…like tell you what would happen if you go behind my back, if Shai or Kat get hurt, if you go to the cops or anything like that.” Rory turns to me. “See? Easy peasy.”
Easy fucking peasy? I can’t help but laugh. God, he’s so fucking great.
We’re looking at each other, so I don’t realize what’s happening until it’s too late. The bodyguard lunges for me, shoving me backward until I hit the wall. Anger flares on Rory’s face as he turns to come for us. Bruce swipes something off his nightstand, swings his arm, and the second the knife slices against Rory’s arm, I realize what it is. How did we miss that?
The bodyguard comes at me again, but I’m ready for it, whipping my arm through the air and hitting him in the temple with my gun, like I did to Rory the first night we saw each other. He drops immediately and I hit him again to make sure of it.
Rory’s gotten the upper hand too, and he’s dragging Bruce away.
“What the fuck are you doing?” My heart is in my throat, head pounding, worry strangling me.
“Make sure he’s not a problem.” He points to the bodyguard boyfriend, but he’s out. I must have hit in the right place, the slow rise and fall of his bare chest telling me I didn’t kill him.
Rory disappears into another room, and I follow. Hethrows Bruce into the bathtub, holding him down and turning on the water. It pours over Bruce’s face as he fights Rory, trying to get free, choking on the water. Rory pulls his head out for a second. “I thought we were friends, Bruce. I thought I could trust you. Why did you go and do that?” He shoves Bruce under the water again, waterboarding the guy, who chokes and thrashes.
“Rory, don’t. I don’t want you to do this for me,” I tell him again. I’m not supposed to get him in trouble, not supposed to get him hurt. He’s got blood on his hand, and I know it’s running down his arm from his cut. How bad is it?
Rory ignores me, pulls a flopping Bruce out of the water again, letting him get a few gasping breaths in before he shoves him back under the faucet.
Ollie was right. I should have listened to him. I fucked this up.
I rush over, touch him, try to pull him back into the moment, try to ground him the way I’ve heard that Cillian does. “Please don’t. I can’t stand the thought of you doing this for me, risking yourself for me. I’m not worth it.”
He practically growls, something in my words making him angry. But I don’t back away. I wrap my arms around him, hold him, whisper to him. “Ror, please…come on, Cherry. Don’t kill him. We need to figure this out. I need to make sure you’re okay, please, baby.”
He freezes, looks at me. It’s so fucking strange seeing him right now, his eyes colder, darker, almost like he’s a different person, like he’s not in this room with me, not inside himself. Not the Rory I know.
“Please,” I say again. His hold on Bruce loosens, and a second later he lets him go completely. I turn the water off, Bruce gasping and coughing in the tub.
Rory falls to the closed toilet seat, doesn’t speak, doesn’tmove anymore…just sits.
What the fuck do I do? Maybe I should have let him kill Bruce. Maybe I should kill them both myself. I don’t want to do the wrong thing. If it were just me, I wouldn’t care, but I dragged him into this.
