Page 29 of The Villain

Devlin leaned closer while I swished the razor in the sink. “Maybe.”

“He’s my best friend. The only person I fully trust to have my back besides Jace.”

“Who’s Jace? Was he the naked one?”

I grunted. “He wasn’t naked.”

“Close enough. Is he another best friend?”

“Brother,” I said.

Devlin frowned at that. “He looks nothing like you.”

“Half-brother. We have different moms.”

He sucked in a sharp breath and dipped his head, and I yanked the razor away before I could slice his eyelid. I opened my mouth to tear into him, but then I remembered something my father had told me once. Apparently, Devlin had lost his half-brother a few years ago. He’d always been a loose cannon, but the rumor in Detroit was that after his brother’s murder, he’d only gotten worse.

I didn’t want to think about how I could relate to Devlin. But the thought of Jace dying, of someonemurderinghim… I wasn’t sure what I’d become if that happened.

Devlin didn’t look up as he stuttered, “A-are you close?” His voice sounded funny.

“Yes,” I answered honestly.

His head slowly lifted, lips curled into a sneer, and I knew right then the devil had come back. Devlin wanted to hurt someone the way he hurt. He lashed out at me with that same challenging tone he’d used the first night we’d met—when he told me my father had died begging for his life.

“You spoiled that little shit, didn’t you? Is that why he’s such a punk? Probably had a perfect little life, all protected by perfect big brother Cian?—”

I shoved him back into the mirror so hard it rattled. “Shut the fuck up.”

Devlin’s jaw snapped closed, but he still glared at me. I gripped the back of his neck and pulled him forward so I could finish shaving his neck.

“I first met Jace when he was eight, but he was about the size of a six-year-old because his neglectful fucking mother had half-starved him. And then Patrick all but ignored his existence, while Jace broke himself trying to get his attention. Heisa punk. Just likeyou’rea punk.” Devlin’s breathing stuttered, but he kept his mouth shut as I finished the last few swipes of the razor.

I stepped back. “Done.”

“Thanks,” he muttered, sullen as he swiped at his face with the corner of his towel.

I leaned back against the wall and crossed my arms over my chest. “I know you had a half-brother?—”

He launched himself off the counter and came at me with a haymaker. But I was ready for it. I spun him around and bent him over the bathroom counter, catching his wrists and pinning them behind his back. He writhed and snarled, spitting venom at me while I held him in place, my hips pressed against his towel-clad ass. “You motherfucker!” he snarled. “Get off me?—”

“And let you punch me? No thanks.”

“Then don’t ask me about shit you know nothing about?—”

I ground the side of his face into the countertop. “Oh, so you can spit whatever bullshit you want at me about my brother, but I can’t talk about yours?”

He tried to buck me off him. “I’m just your little bitch. Use me all you want, butfuckyou for trying to get inside my head.”

“How many times do I need to say this? You don’t make the rules, devil. I’ll do whatever the fuck I want with you.” I leaned over his back, making sure he felt the hard line of my cock pressed between his ass cheeks. “I’ll fuck you how I want—your head, your mouth, your virgin hole. All three. Next time you swing at me, I’ll chain you to the toilet with a vibrating plug up your ass until you’re crying.”

A shiver ran down his spine, and he stopped struggling, his back heaving with deep breaths. He rolled his forehead against the counter, and when he spoke again, his voice was thready and weak. Nearly defeated. “J-just… stop trying to understand me.” Then, softer, nearly a whisper, “Idon’t understand me.”

I knew Devlin’s bullshit well enough by now to recognize when he was putting on an act. And right now, he wasn’t. That vulnerability, the tremor in his voice, his weak pleas… It made my cock hard. This was proof I could crack Devlin Walsh. And his temper had already shown me where to strike first. He was going to be so delicious to take apart.

I massaged the tight muscles on the back of his neck while I kept him pinned to the counter. My thumb rubbed along his pulse point. Devlin swallowed roughly, his body relaxing. For now, he could think I was letting this go. I’d absolutely poke at this wound again.

A knock at my door had Devlin jolting in my arms, and I released him so he could straighten.