His eyes lifted to the faux marble exterior of the building. Every part of his life had taken a skidding nosedive into implosion and his cock chose now not to work for anyone but the narc special agent.
Rocket’s grunted cow moans drew Dev’s focus. “That’s not what a sex moan sounds like, and you know it.” Dev gave a grunt and used his hand to encourage the professional sex worker to try harder to sound like he was actually having sex.
The hooker finally caught on, making Dev lift a finger up, instructing him to wait a few seconds and motioned with his other hand for Rocket to do it again. He nodded his encouragement.
His dick’s functionality shouldn’t take precedence over making his father pay for what he had done. It sure shouldn’t be more important than working every minute of the next however long it required to secure his children’s future, but goddamn, he needed to hate Cash to survive. His vengeance needed the outlet.
He motioned again. This time Rocket sounded genuine.
“I wanna keep the money,” Rocket whispered.
“Did I say I wanted it back?” Dev whispered. “Slap some skin together. He knows I like it hard.”
Rocket slapped his hand against his stomach. “How long does this need to last?”
“A few more minutes. Groan again. Sell it.”
This time Rocket nailed it. “Fuck me, Devil…man.”
After a couple more minutes, Dev encouraged Rocket to staged completion. When Rocket went silent, they stared at one another. Dev spoke very softly. “Say somethin’ about needin’ to go clean up.”
Dev did the same. He unfastened his jeans to better look the part of a guy sated from sex. He decided to walk the block or so to his shop. He couldn’t look Cash in the eyes, not right now. The agent was too observant, he’d figure out the scam.
The sport’s car roared to life, following slowly beside him. Cash didn’t push him any further, only tagged alongside him, pulling into the parking lot until he pointed to his bike. Cash got the unspoken message and did a U-turn to aim toward the exit.
His life was just too fucked for words.
Chapter 28
“Who the fuck is that?” his old man called. His voice grated on Dev’s very last nerve.
Dev dropped his chin to his chest, staring down at the concrete pavement of the parking lot, or as Dev liked to refer to the building he shared with his old man, the actual portal to hell.
Was it too much to ask for thirty fucking seconds alone to regroup, to pull together his scattered thoughts before anyone, let alone his father, spoke to him?
Tension raced over his body. His fists tightened. Restraint and secrecy weren’t something he did well at all. He had to remember Abi and Mae. He’d made a damn good deal. He could secure their lives if he dug deep enough to find a way to follow through.
“What the fuck’s your problem?” his old man asked. Closer now based on the proximity of the gravelly voice.
He tossed a thumb over his shoulder toward Cash’s exiting car, pulling out onto the street, and said the words he’d practiced over and again. They tasted like sawdust on his tongue. “He’s a dude I’m fuckin’. I guess I’m technically seein’ him. Regular people like their relationship statuses identified.”
The words sounded stupid, like he was some sort of adolescent. He had to sound more convincing if he wanted anyone to believe him.
“Huh.” His old man made a squeaky noise with his teeth. “I figured you and Keyes were shacked up together somewhere with how protective you are over him.”
Instantly, Dev’s back went ramrod straight, his chest expanding. He cut a violent gaze toward his father. The old man hadn’t seen how protective Dev’s protective side could be. He was going to show him a trick or two soon enough. “We’re brothers. We’re supposed to have each other’s backs. The way you had Smoke’s back over Keyes every goddamn time.”
Fuck, he pivoted away, taking several steps closer to his sled, his fists flying out, fist-fighting the air in hopes of releasing any of the anger building inside him. He could kill that old man where he stood and be better for it.
“Only an observation,” his old man’s hand came up, trying to show something. Dev had no idea what. “I like some ass every once and again. Somethin’ about a hard body is appealing from time to time. Not somethin’ I’d bring to Thanksgivin’ dinner though.”
Dev got a wink after the last statement. A fucking wink. Did his father have facial tics he didn’t remember? What did that mean?
His fists fell to his sides. His breath panted in short bursts. If Dev could figure out how to close his ears and not actively hear another word that rolled from those lips, he would. His old man completely misread Dev’s seething and threw out a fist to bump in commiseration. Dev let it hang there between them.
There was literally no way he could bring himself to tap it back.
After his obstinance turned awkward, his father dropped his hand and tucked it into his pocket. The outside motion-detecting overhead light affixed to the building dimmed. He stared at his father in the dark. All feeling for the man was gone, nothing left behind. All he could think was how much he wished he could walk away.
