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“I’m picky.”
“Is he that pretty to look at? Did you swindle me out of money, son?” He sounded so casual, affectionate even, but I knew his words were honey-laced poison, and I didn’t want a taste of them.
“He’s my type.”
There was so much more to it than that, but if I even thought about mentioning my dreams or anything adjacent, he’d take him from me just to teach me a lesson. There was still the chance of that happening because I’d defied his orders. Which meant…
“Do you have the addresses for the men you want me to handle?”
His hum of approval settled something in my chest. “I do. Why don’t you come to the mansion and I’ll get the information for you.” I waited, my breath caught in my chest, and he added. “Once you’ve secured your new plaything, of course.”
My exhalation came out in a soft burst I kept hidden. He didn’t need to hear my relief, either. It sounded like I was going to get out of this with Clay unscathed.
I couldn’t say as much for myself, but I was willing to take the blows if it meant I could keep him here, blissfully unaware of what was happening.
“I can be there in an hour.” I didn’t want to keep him waiting — leaving him with time to his thoughts meant he could change his mind. It would be less painful to just get it over with.
“Good.” He sounded pleased with my compliance. “Honestly, Jayce. Next time you need a new toy, just tell me. It will save us both so much… pain.”
My spine went straight — I knew what he meant by the words, but I’d already accepted the price. The few hundred thousand wasn’t what I was really paying for Clay’s safety.
It was so much more than that.
I left Clay locked in the house and returned four hours later. His eyes followed my movements, and I didn’t miss the way they narrowed. I was good at hiding when I was injured, but apparently he was better at noticing when someone was hurt.
I wonder if it came from the scar I’d seen on his brow when I’d patched him up earlier, or the way he’d taken a hit from Nick better than I’d seen some men handle a hangnail.
“What happened?”
I shot four men in the head, then Marcus Holden let his enforcer try to remind me I'm not at the top of the food chain until I accept my place by his side.
My knuckles were bloody from fighting back, and I’d broken Garret’s jaw before my dad finally called me off and told me I’d had enough.
He’d told Garret he could have me if he could get me. Apparently, if I was desperate enough to blow my cover to get my dick wet, I was desperate enough for Garret.
He’d gotten in a few hits, but I didn’t go down.
Marcus Holden had smiled when I straddled Garret’s hips and started punching. My shoulders were shaking with rage, and my adrenaline was surging — it wasn’t just because I’d been threatened with rape.
This was what they would have done to Clay if I hadn’t gone to the basement. It was exactly what would happen to him if my dad got hold of him.
“It’s fine.” I brushed past him and threw a bag of takeout on the kitchen table as I went. “I’ll order actual groceries in the morning. I didn’t feel like cooking tonight.”
Clay’s eyes didn’t leave me as I went to the sink and turned on the cool water. It was going to burn like a bitch, but I wouldn’t be doing anyone any favors if I did something stupid, like get an infection because I was trying to play tough to impress my guest. I hissed once at the sting of the liquid, and then watched little rivulets of faded pink swirl down the drain.
He was silent when he approached me, but Clay’s fingers smoothing along my arm stole away the last of the pain.
“Did you get into a fight?”
I laughed. “You could say that.”
It wasn’t like I’d wanted to. At least killing the men had been easy — they were lined up in a row, ready to die. I think he’d given them the option of going out brave or going into the workforce.
“What happened?” he asked again, bringing his hand to my face. We had matching busted lips now. Clay feathered his thumb across the spot, then swept upward to brush knuckles against my split brow — I didn’t hide the way I chased the taste of his skin with my tongue, and I could have sworn there was sweetness under the blood, like copper coated cotton candy.
“I told you, it’s nothing. It’s part of the job description, right? You saw the kind of men you were dealing with.”
“Did this happen because of me?” He didn’t hold back or hesitate to ask the question, and I pushed away from the sink and opened the cabinet to my left — I had medical supplies in too many places. It probably said something about the kind of person I was.
