“The weather’s changed for the better. There’s a warm front coming in. We may just have ourselves a spring yet,” Nick informed from deep within the wardrobe. “The Volkovs offered use of their personal gym, and you have eleven hours until…”
Nick’s words faded the moment he laid eyes on him.
Jack turned his gaze away, grinding his teeth. “Don’t look at me like that.”
He could only imagine what he saw. Ashen face, a sheen of sweat across a battered chest, the rigid shadow of a traumatized boy forever locked in a grown man’s body.
Nick’s professional mask slipped, revealing true concern. “Should I call for a doctor?”
“I’m fine. Just a bad dream.” His voice scraped like flint.
“Shall I delay breakfast?”
“No.” Jack threw back the covers and rose from the bed, bare assed and unabashed, moving directly to the bathroom.
Nick didn’t react, accustomed to his employer’s scars and secrets alike. It wasn’t a topic open for discussion.
The bathroom provided a suitable place to hide, but his mind was too unraveled to appreciate the opulence. Stepping behind the stone wall where the loo hid, he planted a palm on the wall and aimed his cock.
Heated slate floors warmed his feet. Flushing, he stepped back and faced the stone alcove that housed the shower, catching his reflection from the corner of his eye.
His body was a study in contradictions. Lean muscle, broad shoulders, and a tapered waist under a roadmap of destruction. Each muscle was honed from discipline rather than vanity. His body was built to survive, not to be admired.
Twisting the valve in the wall, he didn’t wait for the water to warm before stepping under the spray. He scrubbed his face under the frigid water, waiting for the cobwebs of his past to wash away.
The chilled water cooled his skin. Rivulets rolled over the raised ridges slashed across his shoulders. Grooves and gouges tore deep enough to defy time. Silver flesh furrowed, written in sin, marking the worst of his childhood in a language others would never read as clearly as he.
And there, just above his hip, the brand that once marked him as property—RA.
Sold like livestock, for nothing more than beans.
Now, outsiders only saw exactly what he wanted them to see. A well-dressed man of power, an inscrutable threat, a danger, a jury, a reaper. He showed the world whatever version it deserved. If they were one of the few who saw the darker secrets hidden underneath, he was the last person they’d ever see.
The water heated to scalding, and he welcomed the sting. Needles stabbed into taut muscle as he braced his hands against the stone wall, head sagging between his tense shoulders.
His cock hung heavy against his thighs, stubborn and insistent. Despite his efforts, his body had needs that refused to be ignored.
His fist moved without ceremony, gripping the thick length and pumping hard. He didn’t think. Didn’t dwell. He merely concentrated on the result so he could get on with his day.
Breath sharpening, his free hand flattened against the wall, fingers curling, muscles bracing, body tensing. Water streamed down his back, tracing the ridges to the hollow of his spine. His mind went blank. Nothing beyond function. No memories. No fantasies.
The sudden orgasm wrenched from him with angry intensity. Cock pulsing in his fist, he jerked harder, ripping his release free, grunting like an animal in pain.
His head dropped to his forearm, and he panted as the water washed the evidence down the drain. The tension in his shoulders eased by degrees, but never fully left.
Steadier, now, he reached for the shampoo and his heartbeat slowed. He washed his body impassively. Efficiently.
When he finally shut off the water, steam billowed around him like fog. Back in the bedroom, Nick had laid out his clothes for a morning run. Breakfast waited on a tray by the window.
Alone. At least for a little while. Just as he preferred to be.
Chapter Twelve
The Becoming
Daisy woke gasping, heart slamming against her ribs like a caged bird.
For three terrifying seconds, she didn’t know where she was. White walls. White ceiling. White sheets tangled around her legs like restraints.
