“I’ve been called a lot of things, but not that.”
“Maybe evil is too strong a word, but you’re not a nice person.” Abi hated nice people. Nice often meant fake.
“The only good thing I do is rescue people. I figure it makes up for all the other shit.” Nash grew serious. “I want everything you’re willing to give. This thing between us is no game, boy. And it’s not as fake as you want to believe.”
Nash’s words felt too much like a reprimand for Abi’s liking. It put him on edge again. “I wasn’t playing a game, but if I were, I’d win. Don’t call me boy outside of the job until I call you Daddy when no one’s around.”
Nash set Abi on his feet. “You don’t know what you want.”
“Oh, I know exactly what I want, and it isn’t another mate.” Abi walked to the door and threw it open.
Nash grabbed his arm. “Let me go first.”
Abi let Nash lead him with a hand on the small of his back. He tried to soften his expression, but his smile felt strained.
“You keep saying stuff about having mates plural. What does it mean exactly?”
“I’ve already told you. I’m broken. I always have been.”
“Broken how, Abi?”
“I told you about my scent already. Well, the mate pull hits people hard, then fades after a couple of weeks.”
“That’s not our timeframe, Abi.” Nash smiled and nodded to a man who passed them, walking in the opposite direction. “That was Mallor.”
Abi tried not to let his reaction show on his face. Instead, he smiled up at Nash, giving his best, most adoring look he could muster. “Are we going to sit by him?”
“We won’t have to. He’ll come to us.”
“How do you know that?”
“He pegged me as a Daddy and you a boy. He wants to watch us fuck.”
Abi tried not to let his stomach flip at the thought of fucking in front of someone. That was a new one, and he wasn’t completely opposed, but it was Nash. The guy he didn’t want to be away from for even a second, while also wanting to run as far away as possible. It was the most problematic situation he had ever been in with one of his fake mates. “That’s a good thing, right?”
“It’s a very good thing.” Nash kissed Abi’s cheek, but as he did it, he whispered, “Relax. Just follow my lead.”
Abi just didn’t want to screw it up.
Chapter Ten
The chairs were of the folding variety. Nothing fancy. Just like the rest of the building. It seemed odd that people in suits and gowns would sit on something so basic, in a building with no style or flair. Nash understood why the sick bastard who built the place wouldn’t care about making it look pretty, considering its use. The crime boss spent his money on forcing enslaved people into a cage so he could watch them kill each other. He didn’t need a fancy building.
The more people who spent money at the betting booths, the more money the house made. Gamblers never really won, but the house always did. That was where the real bread and butter was.
And the slave fighters? They were a dime a dozen. He could pluck anyone off the street who seemed as though they could take a punch. Who cared if they died? Collateral damage happened, right? It was just business to the person who built this den of death.
The discomfort of the building was all part of the marketing. What gave the building flair was the blood splattered on the floor and in the cage.
A dark-haired woman in a yellow gown pointed at the floor and then clapped her hands together. “I hope I get blood on my gown.Wouldn’t that give me something to talk about at the garden club on Saturday?”
“It certainly would, dear.” The man smiled. When he saw Nash watching them, he met Nash’s gaze with a smirk and rolled his eyes. He shook his head as if they shared the same indulgent attitude toward their respective partners.
The man eyed Abi with a lick of his lips, then turned toward him to find out if Nash shared.
Nash lowered his glasses, revealing his reptilian eyes, and then flashed his fangs to make it clear he would rip the guy apart if he ever thought about Abi sexually again.
Abi had his eyes closed. To the unsuspecting viewer, he looked as though he slept against Nash’s side. What only Nash knew was the feel of his tense body. Abi was wound tighter than a spring.
