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And now…
Well…
“Are you over your little act of rebellion, Jayce?” Marcus kept his eyes on me as I walked into the room, though I noticed no one was training their guns on my chest. I knew they’d bring them up if they had to, but I also knew they’d been conditioned not to raise a hand to me, or they’d suffer the consequences. I walked freely until I was standing beside him, and my eyes flicked to Clay again.
Clay, with a split lip.
Clay, with a cut across his cheek.
Clay, who’d been ready to betray me…
And Clay, who was looking at me now with eyes gone wide and full of emotions I didn’t have time to linger on. I turned my attention back to Marcus.
“Well, look where it got me?” I gestured to the blood that had half dried on my face, though the cut was still oozing. Rhys had tried to talk me into cleaning it up before I got out of the car, and I told him to leave. He didn’t need to be here for this. He didn’t need to see me like this, and I didn’t want him around if things went south.
“I see that.” Marcus’ eyes narrowed at the gash on my face, then jerked between Clay and Nick. The unspoken question was clear.
“Nick,” I said it with ease, and I knew what I was doing when I spoke. Without warning, Marcus lifted his blade and dragged it across Nick’s throat in a sharp burst of movement that showed me he hadn’t lost his edge.
The gurgling sound caught in Nick’s chest was almost as good as the look of shocked surprise on his face.
“I thought I told you not to hurt him. God, Nick. You were a disappointment until the end. Do you see his face? You don’t mark my son.”
My son.
It was still there. His burning possessiveness — the indignation that anyone but him would have the audacity to hurt me.
Nick tried to raise his gun toward Marcus, and I swept it from his fingers before shoving him back.
He fell to the floor with a wet sound and a puddle of blood slowly spreading beneath him. Messy. A messy start and a messy end. I never expected anything else from him.
My eyes turned from the floor back to Marcus, though I couldn’t stop myself from sneaking another quick glance at Clay. He was staring at Nick, and I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. His face was calculating, his tongue absentmindedly licking across the wound on his lower lip.
Fuck, they really did like to hit him in the face, didn’t they?Assholes.
“Thanks.” At least I sounded honest — I’d wanted Nick dead from the moment I met him, because I knew he was nothing more than a liability. “Now, do you think I can have my toy back, please?”
I forced myself not to look at Clay as I said it — I studied Marcus’ expression instead. It shifted from the indignation at Nick’s audacity to a curiosity I never liked to see. His cool eyes searched my face as he lifted his knife again. It pressed against Clay’s cheek, hard enough the pointed tip drew blood.
“He has a mouth on him, I was going to show him how to use it.”
I forced myself not to reach out and take the blade. Instead, I ran my finger along the cut on Clay’s lip. The touch made him wince, and the wince made Marcus pull his knife back with a grin.
“He’s mouthy, for sure. But… Dad, come on.” I arched a brow and offered a small grin. “How am I supposed to be taken seriously if I don’t kill the man who tried to betray me? No one would respect me standing at your side if I didn’t do that, and everyone in this room will see that you didn’t let me.”
I waited as he processed the words, and I saw it when what I was saying registered.
“By my side, hm? I thought you weren’t really interested in the family business, Jayce.”
He hid it well, but I could see how eager he was at the prospect of what I was offering. I’d vehemently kept myself at a distance — yes, I’d done the things he asked when he asked, but I’d never actively participated. I’d never sought him out.
I’d never willingly stood with him.
“I had a change of heart when I realized what having a heart can do to you.” My finger pressed harder against Clay’s mouth, forcing a pained sound from his throat. When I lifted my hand and popped my thumb between my lips to lick the blood away, Marcus’ eyes narrowed in delight.
“If I knew this was all it took to teach you the lesson, I would have arranged something like this myself.” I watched him carefully as he took one step back. “Tell me, what do you intend to do to him? You really need to make an example, Jayce.” I could hear it in his voice, even though I’d pleased him, even though I could almost feel the excitement coming off him in waves, this was still a test. If I failed, he’d still do his worst. If I didn’t kill Clay, he’d take him from me and make him wish he were dead.
“I mean, you seemed to have the right idea, didn’t you?” My eyes drifted to Clay’s lips, to the blood trickling across his mouth — to the set of his shoulders, and the way his eyes were looking at me with some strange mixture of hurt and betrayal. “I think the best thing to do is shut him up. I can still keep him for a while to play with after. And then…” I leaned forward and gently tugged one blond curl. “I don’t know, you can sell him once I’m done. When I’m finished using him, there’s no point in keeping him around, right?”
