10. Cal Walker
W hat a mess .
A hot mess… don’t get me wrong…But still a mess .
I currently had a raging hard Ryan Fairview on his knees before me at gunpoint, and I would be lying if I said I was looking anywhere other than his dick.
I have to say, this was the first time someone had ever gotten hard for me while I tried to kill them, but I wasn’t complaining.
Something about that was so hot. What else would make this little psycho hard?
Fuck.
Focus, Cal .
I couldn’t think about that yet. First, I needed to make sure what he had just said was true.
He said he hadn’t been the one to hurt the boy, Caleb… but that’s exactly what someone who got caught hurting a kid would say… right? So why did I believe him?
He wasn’t giving me ‘guy saying whatever he had to in order to survive’ vibes.
He was giving me ‘I’m offended that you would even think that. I’m a good person, and that accusation totally fucks with my own personal code of morals’ vibes.
However, I was partially convinced that I was thinking with my cock at this point. Let’s be serious. I wanted it to be true. He was so fucking delicious.
His dick was so fucking hard in his jeans, and I sucked my lip ring into my mouth as I eyed his considerable bulge. The way his entire face had flushed when I called him out for getting hard for me… Did he blush like that everywhere? Did his balls get all rosie and pink too?
I wanted to find out.
Murder or sex, murder or sex…
Fuck. Me.
I was clearly all fucked up.
I clicked the safety off on the gun and pressed it flush against his forehead. He groaned, and I couldn’t tell if it was from sheer terror or from the fact that fear clearly turned him on.
Jesus Christ.
Now I was fucking hard too.
This was definitely the most fucked up hit I had ever done.
Yep.
Maybe I needed a vacation…
“I didn’t hurt the kid,” Ryan was saying. I shook my head, snapping myself out of my dazed state.
“Prove it,” I snarled. Hot as he was, it didn’t matter. If he was someone who hurt kids, he had to fucking go. I wasn’t exactly a white knight, but kids? They needed someone to fight for them. No one had fought for us.
“I swear. He’s sleeping upstairs. You can ask him. I think he comes here because his parents hurt him and he needs a safe place to go. I’ve never turned him away, and I never will. I’m currently trying to figure out what to do next. I can’t send him home to those monsters, but legally, he can’t stay here.”
I crouched down without removing the barrel of my gun from Ryan’s forehead.
His breaths were short and ragged. I could catch small hints of mint on his breath, and honestly, it smelled so fucking good. That, coupled with the damp, masculine scent of his sweat, mixed in with the clean laundry smell of his T-shirt, had me reeling.
Fucking shit I hoped he was telling the truth…
“So you’re not his dad?” I asked, cocking my head to the side. Ryan let out a breathy laugh.
“Fuck no. I don’t have any kids.”
Yet.
Visions of little ginger babies danced before my eyes, and I blinked.
Woah. Where the hell had that come from?
I shook my head again and stood up, jerking the gun toward the door.
“Take me to him. If his story lines up with yours, we’ll discuss the next steps.”
Ryan eyed me with a look that bordered on disbelief, though he didn’t say anything. He just stumbled to his feet.
“Hands behind your head. If you fucking flinch the wrong way, I blow your brains out all over your spooky stairs and leave it for muscles to clean up tomorrow.”
He shot me a questioning look, and I shrugged.
“Your sister.”
He nodded as if to say ‘ah’ and did exactly as he was told.
“Can we uh… bring the sage?” he asked, and I raised an eyebrow at him.
“No, weirdo. March!” I jabbed him in the back with my Beretta, and he sighed before obeying.
My cock twitched again.
Maybe he was telling the truth?
My blood heated in my veins at the thought… If he was, what would I do?
He had seen my face… Damian would tell me to kill him. He was a loose end.
However, watching him walk up the stairs before me with his hands laced behind his head, I knew I wouldn’t kill him. If the kid corroborated his story, I would let Ryan Fairview live. However, I couldn’t just let him loose into the world. I would need to keep an eye on him.
Looking around the impressive Victorian house that this man’s family had turned into a funeral parlor, an idea hit me.
What did a mercenary and a mortician have in common?
Dead. Fucking. Bodies.
The more I thought about my new idea, the more excited I became.
I jabbed Ryan between the shoulder blades with my gun, forcing him to walk up the stairs faster.
“Hurry up, ginger snap. Let’s get this misunderstanding cleared up so we can be friends.”
He glared at me over his shoulder, and I smirked back.
“What makes you think I want to be friends with you?” he whisper-hissed back, and I chuckled.
“Trust me, ginger snap. I’m a much better friend than an enemy.”