Page 69 of Slash


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I felt really fucking lucky to have been the one she decided to come to. Especially considering she had a much longer history with them.

“I might even need to have a sit-down with the Novikoff brothers,” I said, thinking out loud.

“Really?” she asked, brows pinching. “I didn’t think you were, you know, involved with them.”

“We’re not. Neither are the Murphys. We all kinda just mind our business. But they might know more about the drug trade than we do.”

“You don’t think that they might…” she started.

“No. I mean, they’ve got ice water in their veins, but I really don’t think they’d be in the business of having women beaten. Besides, they haven’t really been involved in the drug trade. They took over for the Albanians who were in extortion and racketeering shit, not drugs.”

Was it not the smartest move for me to talk to the Bratva when Erion could be around watching? Maybe. But some shit just had to take precedence. Like finding the fucker who bashed in Nyx’s face.

“I’m gonna need to talk to the guys about this too,” I warned her, just in case she hadn’t put that together yet.

“I figured. Club above everything else, right?” she asked.

“Not above. But we’re all a package deal. If I’m involved, so are they. They need to know. And Judge might be able to shed some light too. He had been working the streets around here since he was fucking twelve. He might have an idea who worked with Czar who could still be around, who might fuck with your life.”

To that, she nodded, but was silent for a long moment, lost in her own thoughts.

When she spoke again, her gaze was fixed forward. “Hey, Slash?” she asked.

“Yeah, babe?” I asked, something about her quiet tone having my voice go softer.

“Thank you,” she said. “I know you don’t owe me anything. And I really had no right to ask you to get involved with this. So… thank you.”

“Hey,” I called, waiting until she finally turned to look at me. “You don’t have to thank me for shit. This is how it works.”

“Howwhatworks?” she asked, voice hardly more than a whisper.

That was a loaded question, now, wasn’t it?

Because what we had been, up until this point, was casual. So casual, in fact, that not even the people closest to us knew about it.

But if I were being completely honest, I had wanted more than that for a long time now.

I couldn’t say I understood the urge, that I knew jackshit about relationships or anything like that.

What I did know, though, was that I wanted more than sex with Nyx.

“Whatever this is,” I said, waving a hand between us. “And I think we can both say that it isn’t just fucking anymore,” I added.

“No,” she agreed, her gaze falling. “It’s not.”

Looking down at her, at her inability even to look me in the eye when admitting that, I realized that, somehow, she was even worse at this shit than I was.

Somehow, though, I found that kind of fucking endearing.

“Look,” I said, sighing. “I don’t think either of us know shit about this kind of thing.”

“No,” she agreed.

“So let’s just… play it by ear, yeah?” I asked. “It’s more than fucking now. We give a shit about each other. That’s… something to use as a jumping off point, right?”

“Right,” she agreed, her gaze lifting, eyes softer than usual.

“Come here,” I demanded, reaching out for the side of her neck, putting a bit of pressure there until she went up on her knees on the couch, then moved to straddle me. “It’s going to be alright,” I told her, my thumb moving out to stroke over her cheek. “I’ll make sure of it.”

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