He looks fine on his own anyway. The man doesn’t even look afraid. He’s talking like this is some chat over cigars and whiskey, not a lethal mission gone wrong.
Their mouths are moving. Darius’ lips are moving fast. No resting-funeral-director face here. He seems pretty damn angry.
Damon doesn’t look affected. He takes out his phone and shows the lit screen to Darius.
When I move my focus on the small screen, I can see a tiny human, all bundled up, who looks a lot like Darius. So I’m guessing that’s Darius’ son that Set’s been holding over his head.
Okay, I get it. Poor guy. I’d do anything to make sure my kid was okay.
Damon’s talking now. Still can’t hear him. It looks like a real serious conversation.
But I can’t handle all that seriousness, so I joke around, deepening my voice to mimic him. “Darius, I’ve ensured your heir’s safety inexchange for trading in my soul to Set.” I giggle in between mocking Damon’s stupidly deep voice.“You don’t need to do this anymore.Also, I’m a prick, and Stan’s the best Song-Smith brother with the biggest dick.Not me.Kaye lied about that.”
I run out of things to poke fun at Damon, but they’re still talking. I think Damon’s trying to snap Darius completely out of Kys-nosis.
But who knows? And who cares?
I’m bored, so I just keep looking.
To be honest, now that I’m staring hard at them—since there’s nothing to do—it’s sorta unsettling how similar they are. Two older brothers from two different families, but they have like, really shitty responsibilities.
I notice other things too. Or maybe my bored-as-hell brain has nothing better to do than make stuff up, but…
Damon and Darius have those similar oldest brother genes, maybe? Different eye colors, sure, but the shape’s identical. Same sharp angles. Same cold stare. Same look on two men who probably learned too young how to carry too much.
Well, that must’ve been abitch.
Then Damon lifts his hand, taking me out of my thoughts.
Yes!
That’s my signal, so I don’t give a fuck what happens next.
Chuckling to myself, I grin. Darius is giving himself up. Damon got to him.
And I’mdone. Ready to go home. I want my people. I want their warm bodies. I want out.
So I start breaking down my setup. Time to call it a day and go back to the loves of my life.
After quickly stuffing everything into my duffel, I pull my phone out while I’m standing, joints crackin’ like they’re pissed at me.
My thumb taps at my phone until it finds Em. She picks up fast.
“Stan?” Em sounds worried.
Over me?
I could cry. So could my cock.
Down, boy!
“Hey, gorgeous,” I greet her happily. “Everything’s all handled. I’m comin’ home to you and Lix, safe and sound, and so ready for snuggles. Also, sex. Tons of that, if you could get ready for your good boy.”
She clicks her tongue. I press the phone to my mouth and smooch it like a complete idiot, not even ashamed about it.
I step into the elevator and hit the button to parking, leaning back against the mirror wall like my body remembered it’s allowed to relax. “So tell your man how your day went, doc.”
“Oh,” Em says, sounding surprised.
