“Mr. Laskin, sir, it’s an honor,” he said, sticking out his hand.
Aleksi looked at the kid and frowned.
The kid slowly lowered his hand. “Ah. Right. You’re, um, covered in… all that.”
“I don’t know you,” Aleksi half growled. “Where’s Holt?”
“Oh. Right. I’m Evander Renko. My friends call me E.J.” Another pause so awkward, I had to bite my tongue to keep from saying something smart. Poor lad. “Oh, right. Holt. He’s on the warehouse, and Pavel is… Well, you know. You’re the one who…” He cleared his throat and popped up on his toes briefly. “Anyway, that means you get me.”
“Riiiiight.” Aleksi sighed. “Just don’t fuck it up, kid.”
“No, sir, Mr. Laskin… sir.”
I inched closer to Aleksi as EJ snapped on his gloves and unrolled the plastic. “Go easy on the lad.”
Aleksi snorted. “Why? Going easy on him will just make him soft.”
“Oi, can’t ye see? Yer his hero.” I gave him a gentle shove.
Aleksi rolled his eyes. “Then the kid has bad taste. I’m gonna go smoke.”
“Och, then ye best not ask for a wee kiss after.” I folded my arms. Then made an undignified sound when he grabbed my arse.
“I don’t ask, brat.”
I shoved him toward the door and stayed inside with EJ.
The lad worked fast and clean, gloves on, the body bagged, already eyeing the wall, and he was good at it. But every so often his eyes went toward the front where Aleksi and Niko were smoking, and I’d see a flash of something familiar I just couldn’t put my finger on. It was in the jaw, maybe, or the way he tipped his head when he was working a thing out. Some Laskin stamp I’d no name for yet. I told myself it was the smoke in my eyes and let it go.
After his smoke, Aleksi changed into a suit off the rack that didn’t fit quite right and handed all his dirty laundry to EJ. He parted only reluctantly with the tie, and I didn’t know why. Wasn’t anything special about that damn red silk tie.
When it was all done, the body loaded, the clothes bagged, the shop clean as a whistle, Aleksi ducked into the washroom to avoid having to speak to EJ again. Niko tipped the kid a handful of bills and I went in to check on Aleksi.
The daft man was working at a spot of blood on his chin and missing it by a mile, so I snatched the cloth out of his hand and did it for him. “Yer a coward, dodging the lad like that.”
“It’s awkward,” he mumbled.
I wet the cloth and went at his jaw, slowly, holding his chin like a thing I meant to keep. "I watched ye break a man for putting a hand on me," I said. "And now yer in here hiding from a little small talk. Aleksi Laskin, yer a strange one."
He turned and kissed me then, blood on his chin and all, and I didn't care a bit.
It was Gregori who clocked the car on the way home. He didn't say anything, just took three turns we didn't need and watched the mirror while he did it. Whatever had been behind us wasn't behind us anymore by the fourth. Nobody said K's name. Aleksi held my hand on the seat and checked the mirror for ten miles, and I pretended I hadn't seen him do it.
I drove down intoFin slowly.
The light through the blinds had gone from black to gray. My thighs burned. My knee had been complaining for an hour, and I'd been ignoring it. The blankets were somewhere on the floor, and Fin was under me on his back with his hand fisted in mine on the pillow and the maimed one resting open beside it.
He'd gone quiet under me for a stretch, the only sounds in the room his small grunts and the wet sounds of us fucking. But I was determined to break him.
"Look at ye," he managed, ragged. "Ye great fucking — Christ. Ye dinnae quit, do ye?"
"No."
"Course no. Stupid question." His good hand left mine and slid down my arm, fingers digging into the bicep. "C'mere."
I lowered onto my elbows over him. His cock was trapped between us, hard and dragging slick across my stomach. He'd been leaking on me for the last twenty minutes. I'd seen what he had to give twice already tonight. Once I’d sucked him off whilehe ran his mouth at me. Once made him come with nothing but three fingers in his ass. This was the third orgasm I was working him toward, and I'd give it to him whether he asked for it or not.
"That's it." His voice was a wreck. "That's the angle. Aye. Right — fuck — right fucking there, dinnae move that—"
