by Erin M. Leaf
Mick went still. “I know. And I think Knox agrees with you.”
“Listen to him. Promise me you won’t cut yourself again. I hate it. You shouldn’t hurt yourself.”
He smoothed a hand down her hair, trying to soothe her. “Okay. It’s okay.” Guilt burned in his stomach. How could he have done this to her?
“Promise me,” she said, stubborn to the end.
He swallowed. He didn’t give his word very often, but when he did, he meant it. “I promise,” he whispered.
Aileen sighed. “Good.”
Mick hugged her again. Her hair smelled like blood, but underneath that was her usual lemon-scented shampoo. He wanted to think that nothing would ever hurt her again, but who was he to predict the future? He’d keep her as safe as he could.
“I’m really, really glad he’s dead, though,” she mumbled, distracting him from his thoughts.
“Hell, yeah.” Mick ignored the rage that threatened to surface again. It wouldn’t do him any good now. Like it or not, his vendetta was over. He glanced at DiLorenzo’s body. The small hole in the bastard’s skull was too good a death for him. Mick looked away before he lost control again. Aileen didn’t need to see him go all crazy serial killer on DiLorenzo’s body, even if he did want to dismember it into parts and piss on the asshole’s skeleton.
“Come on. We need to hurry,” Knox said, rushing into the hall. He grabbed Mick’s arm and towed him and Aileen up the stairs, and not gently. “Run now. You can hug later. Right now we gotta get the fuck out of here.”
Mick helped his sister Aileen navigate the dim staircase, then led her out into the first floor of the house. “You rigged the gas line?”
“Yup.” Knox headed for the back door. “Quickest way out is how we came in.” He paused just inside the entry and turned off the alarm using the key card. “I don’t know how long it’ll be before it blows, so we can’t hang around.” He snorted under his breath. “And we sure don’t want the cops here while we’re still on the property.”
Mick let out a relieved breath. “You do good work, Knox.” He shifted Aileen to his other arm. She was still groggy, and he was carrying half of her weight. The arm with the wound was starting to throb. “I don’t know if my sister can actually run, though, let alone trek through the woods in the dark. We’ll have to do the best we can.”
Knox frowned, and then he turned to them and picked her up effortlessly. “I’ve got her. You go first.”
Mick nodded, holding the door open. “I hope this fucking place burns hot enough to pulverize his bones.”
Knox grinned fiercely. “Oh, don’t worry. It will. I found some kerosene. And a bit of plastic explosive along with about five-hundred kilos of snow. Tony was a hell of a piece of work. Even if they do find his bones, no one is going to be looking very hard for his killer.”
“Five hundred kilos? Are you fucking kidding me?” Mick couldn’t even comprehend that much drugs in one place, at one time.
“No joke.” Knox shook his head.
“Jesus.” Mick led the way into the woods. “It’s a damn shame he died so easy.”
“You know why I had to do it,” Knox said.
Mick sighed.
“Don’t worry, Mick. He’ll be burning forever, down below,” Knox said as they moved further into the darkness.
Mick wasn’t sure he believed in hell, but when the explosion came, he stopped and looked back through the trees at the orange flames. “Holy shit. You weren’t kidding when you said you’d blow up the place.”
Knox gave him a fierce grin. “I do good work.”
Mick laughed. “You certainly do.” He stared at the flames flickering through the darkness. “Burn, you bastard. Burn.” He bared his teeth, hoping DiLorenzo’s soul got what he deserved.
Chapter Nine
“Is Aileen settled in okay at her new school?” Knox asked as he spread cream cheese over his pumpernickel bagel. A paper bag of assorted rolls and pastries sat in the center of the table, partially blocking his view of Mick’s plate. “I would’ve gone with you, you know, when you went to visit yesterday. You didn’t have to take off alone.” He shook his head. “I still think it’s weird that she wanted to go to a boarding school.” Boarding school reminded him too much of being in jail: dormitories and too many rules. If someone had tried to stick him in a place like that when he was sixteen, he would’ve told them where they could shove their idea. Of course, when I was sixteen I was already on the streets, working for my bastard of an old man. Hope he’s burning in hell with DiLorenzo.
“She’s fine. And she said she likes the art offerings there. Most regular high schools don’t have as much focus on that stuff.” Mick sat down at the kitchen table and let out a breath. “She’s doing better than I expected, actually. She’s making friends and likes her classes.” He made a face. “She told me to stop obsessing over her.”
Knox snorted, mildly amused. “She’s had enough therapy to bankrupt a rich man over the past month. She’d better be okay, or you’re not getting your money’s worth.”
Mick rolled his eyes. “No worries. I’m not as rich as you are, but I have more than enough cash to handle all the shrinks Aileen will ever need for the rest of her life.”
Knox picked up his coffee. “And what about you?” He sipped carefully. Last thing he wanted to do was burn his mouth. He hoped to be doing fun things with it later. He eyed Mick over the cup’s rim, wondering if he was being stupid for asking him how he felt. Emotions weren’t really his thing, but the silences in the house had been lingering longer and longer. He didn’t like it one bit.
“What about me? What are you talking about?” Mick avoided Knox’s gaze. He pushed his scrambled eggs around on his plate and stared at the sink as if it held the secrets of the universe.
Motherfucking bullshit. I’m going to regret poking at this, I know it. Knox shook his head and put his drink down. “You want to talk about it?” Even as he said the words, he grimaced. He didn’t do conversations. He didn’t do feelings, yet here he was, trying to get his onetime lover to talk. It had been a month since he’d blown up that bastard’s hideaway, and Mick had mentioned it … never. Nada. Zip. There’d been not one word about DiLorenzo, Mick’s vendetta, or the sex they could be having if Mick were actually fucking okay with everything that’d gone down. Yet instead of fucking, here they were eating another boring breakfast and pretending that everything was fine. Shit. I’ve gone soft. He glared at the tip of Mick’s right ear across the table. Why the hell am I here, anyway? I should just go. Maybe see if I can find something to do in Europe. Better than watching Mick slowly turn from a great fuck into a fucktard.
“Stop staring at me.” Mick stuffed a forkful of eggs into his mouth.
“I would, if you’d stop acting like a moron.” Knox took a big bite of his bagel and chewed forcefully. Cream cheese spread through his mouth, almost choking him.
Mick turned his head and glared. “What’s there to talk about? Shit happened. The end.”
Knox swallowed, working hard to push the mass of bread past the inexplicable lump in his throat. “Oh, I don’t know. The fact that you’re depressed? And acting like a dick?” He picked up his coffee and took a huge gulp. Fuck. Burned my tongue anyway. He scowled.
“Depressed?” Mick laughed. “What the hell do you know about being depressed? You’re a sociopath.”
And here we go. Knox eyed the anger in Mick’s gaze, and then slid his coffee cup closer to the bag of bagels. “And you’re a psychopath. So what?”
Mick inhaled, nostrils flaring. “We’re comparing mental disorders now?”
“Jesus, Mick. You can’t even answer a simple question, can you?” Knox tried to ignore the growing ball of tension in his gut, but it wasn’t easy. Trying to talk to him was a giant fucking mistake.
“Don’t put your issues on me, Knox. If you’re all bent out of shape over what happened, that’s your problem, not mine.” Mick crossed his arms over his chest.
Knox stared at him for
a moment, struggling to hold back the frustration that rushed to the front of his thoughts, and then he shoved away from the table. “You know what? Fuck this. I don’t care anymore. If you want to sit there and stew in your misery, go ahead. You sure as shit don’t need my help to make a fucking mess of your life. You don’t want company? Fine. I can take a hint.” He headed for the stairs. He was going to get his stuff and get the fuck out of here. He’d tried. Mick wasn’t talking. Good enough. A hard grip on his arm spun him around before he reached the first step. He stumbled back against the wall. “What the hell, Mick?” He brushed off the assassin’s hand angrily. “Fuck off.”
“Screw you, Knox. You don’t know a damn thing about how I feel.” Mick shoved him against the banister. Wood creaked.
Knox pushed back. “You’re right. Because you’re too busy swallowing all of it down like a goddamn addict. I don’t even know why you asked me to stay here.”
Mick grabbed him by the arms. “Fuck you.”
Knox laughed bitterly. “I wish.” His cock filled out, despite his frustration. Hell, maybe because of his frustration. Mick shouting and angry was the most emotion he’d seen from the man in the past four weeks. “Fucking would be great, but you lost your balls and dick somewhere in DiLorenzo’s fucking mansion.” His words echoed throughout the open space. Goddamn lofted ceilings, he thought darkly.
Mick’s eyes went dark. “You’re bastard.”
“Yeah, I am a bastard, but I’m not a sociopath. I’m good at planning who I want to kill, and where I’m going to do it. I just don’t give enough of a shit about most people to bother with being fucking polite about it before my finger pulls their plug.” Knox grabbed Mick’s wrists and pivoted, pushing the thief up against the wall. He ground his hips into Mick’s groin, hoping to feel something. Anything. Even a hint of an erection would do. “I’m pissed off, Mick, and I’m not going to apologize for that. You knew what you were getting into the moment you chained me to that fucking bed half a year ago. This is all on you.”
Mick gasped.
Oh, yeah. There it is. Knox bared his teeth as his hard-on met Mick’s cock. “Are you a pussy? Gonna stand there and take it, poor little shit that you are? Did your Daddy mess you up?”
Mick snarled. “Shut your damn mouth.”
“Make me.” Knox savored the flare of belligerence. He should’ve known silence would get him exactly nothing with Mick and started a fight weeks ago.
Mick’s eyes went flat and dark. “You think I can’t?”
“I think you won’t.” Knox ground in harder, watching Mick closely. Christ, it felt good to let it all out. Mick swallowed, then bit his lip when Knox rolled his hips. I want him to beg, Knox thought, abruptly going to his knees.
“What the fuck?” Mick grabbed Knox’s hair and yanked.
Knox ignored him, fingers busy on Mick’s jeans. “Shut up. You don’t want to talk? Fine. Just shut up and take it.” He unzipped Mick’s pants and shoved his hand inside. The thief’s cock was hot and heavy. He groaned, wanting to feel it on his tongue.
“No.” Mick hauled him up, dick poking out the front of his boxers ridiculously.
Knox fought him, but Mick managed to get a leg behind his knee, sending them both crashing to the steps. “Fuck!” His spine hit the edge of one of the risers. “You trying to cripple me? Christ.” He shifted away, cursing.
Mick ripped Knox’s shirt open. “I’m going to fuck you until you can’t talk anymore. I’m sick of talking. I’m sick of listening to you talk.”
“I’m no shrink, Mick, but you never talk about anything,” Knox said, lifting his hips as Mick undid his jeans and roughly shoved them down his legs. “There’s been nothing but silence in this fucking house for four weeks.”
“There’s nothing to say.” Mick slapped a hand on Knox’s thigh.
The sting felt good. Knox’s cock swelled harder. “You’re nothing like DiLorenzo.”
Mick slapped him again, hard enough to leave a palm print. “Shut up.” He wrestled his own shirt off, then kicked away his pants. “This isn’t about him.”
“You might have his DNA, but you’re not his son.” Knox spread his legs, giving his balls room. “You might be a damned coward, though.” He cocked his head. “Are you a coward?”
Mick growled, putting his hands around Knox’s throat. “Shut. Up.” He pressed until Knox couldn’t breathe.
Knox’s hips jerked up as his heart pounded. He liked his sex rough, just like this. He liked it when Mick showed him he couldn’t be pushed around. Not a lot of people with the nerve to shove back at me, he thought, pleased with the taste of risk. Just when the edges of his vision sparked white, Mick let go. Knox sucked in a great gulp of air. “Fucking hell.” His voice rasped against a sore throat. The burn felt like salvation.
Mick grabbed his wrists and muscled Knox halfway up the wooden stairs. “This what you want?” He shoved a knee up against Knox’s junk. “You want me to force you?”
Knox laughed, riding a razor sharp edge of adrenaline and pain. “In case you can’t fucking tell, I’m ready and willing.” He wrapped his legs around Mick’s waist, pressing their cocks together. “Fuck me. Or are you all talk?” He gritted his teeth against discomfort—Mick hadn’t moved his leg and his balls were being crushed. Funny how it took me most of my life to get to this place. Mick woke me up months ago and now there’s no shoving me back to sleep.
“Shit.” Mick backed off suddenly.
A stab of alarm shot through Knox, but before he could protest, Mick hauled him up the stairs and wrestled him into his bedroom. He pushed him onto the bed. “Don’t fucking move.”
Knox arched an eyebrow. “Or what?” He rubbed his wrists. He’d have bruises tomorrow for sure.
“Or I’ll chain you again, like I did months ago.” Mick rummaged in his nightstand, then threw a tube of lube and a condom on the bed.
Knox smiled crookedly. “I’m tempted to run, just to see what you did with the shackles.”
Mick didn’t smile. He looked like a man about to completely lose his shit. “I’m fucking warning you, Knox.”
Knox licked his lips. This is the Mick I want.
Mick opened the lube and spread a dollop over his fingers, then moved in between Knox’s legs. “I’m so angry at you.” He speared two fingers into Knox’s hole.
Knox groaned. It hurt, but it felt good, too. “You’re pissed at yourself. Don’t blame me for your shitty mood.”
“I blame you for everything.” Mick added another finger, glanced at the condom, then shook his head. “I’m going bareback.” His blue eyes glittered.
Knox didn’t say a word. He lifted his legs and cupped his dick, running a thumb over the wet crown. “Fine by me.”
Mick’s nostrils flared, and then he took himself in hand and pressed in with one rough shove.
Knox choked on the burn of it, but then Mick hit his prostrate and just as suddenly his pleasure-pain switch flipped and it felt so good he almost shot his load then and there. “Fuck!” He gripped his balls tightly, willing himself to hold on. The lack of preparation only revved his engine higher.
“You’re one sick bastard,” Mick muttered, pulling out and thrusting back in again.
Knox arched his spine. “Takes one to know one.”
Mick’s face tightened. “I may gag you if you can’t keep your mouth fucking shut.”
“Like you’re going to stop now.” Knox shivered. Mick’s erection felt like a damned log in his ass. It hurt so good. “You like ramming your dick into my hole. You like knowing that you’re hurting me.” He scrabbled at the sheets, twisting his fingers into the fabric. “You’re a filthy pervert.”
“Christ.” Mick reached down and clapped his hand across Knox’s mouth. “You like it when I hurt you, you fucked up bastard.” He punctuated his words with another thrust. “You like it when it’s rough.” His eyes went to Knox’s wrists. “You’re going to bruise, and every time I look at it I’ll know that I did that to you.” H
e sucked in a harsh breath. “And I’ll know you liked it when I marked you up.”
Knox licked his palm, delighted when Mick trembled. He turned his head, dislodging Mick’s arm. “Do you feel more like yourself now?”
Mick glared at him, thrusting so hard their skin slapped together.
Knox reached up and held onto the bed frame. “You’re not DiLorenzo. You’re Mick Lannon.” He grinned. “Tamer of monsters.” He felt pretty fucking fine right now. For a guy who’d had no interest in sex for most of his life, having Mick screw him into oblivion felt like some kind of strange karma. Takes a fucking animal to tame a monster.
Mick’s hips stuttered. “Jesus, Knox.”
“Fuck me.” Knox’s skin prickled. So close…
Mick stopped. “You’re not a monster.” His voice was low. Intimate.
Knox gripped the iron bed frame hard enough to hurt. “What?”
“You’re not a monster.” Mick leaned down and kissed him gently. “You’re not a caged beast, no matter what your father said.”
Knox gritted his teeth. Weirdly, the soft words made him even more frantic to climax. “Shut up, Mick.”
Mick bit his lip. “Oh, now you want me to shut up.” He pushed in, slow and steady. “You goaded me into talking about my feelings and now you want quiet. I’m getting whiplash. What do you really want, Knox?”
Knox writhed, feeling every inch of Mick’s cock as it slid inside. Sweat rolled down his temple. “Fuck.”
“You say I’m nothing like DiLorenzo? Then you’re nothing like your fucking asshole father. The one who tattooed a cage on your chest.” Mick fucked him slowly. Gently. Too fucking carefully.
Knox’s vision blurred. “Stop it, Mick.”
Mick kissed him again. “No.” He wrapped a hand around Knox’s cock, stroking just enough to drive him crazy. “Let go.”
Knox stared at him. “Only if you do, too.”
Mick bit his lip, breathing hard.
Knox could see the thief understood what he meant. Let go of the past. Let go of who you think you are. He released the bed frame and cupped Mick’s face. “Come on.”