Chapter Twenty-Four
Kieran
Wren stormed out after Tomás.
River twitched in his chair, the color draining from his face. His shoulders drooped, looking so damn defeated. He and Wren had been best friends since I’d met them. Inseparable. We made eye contact, and he lifted his chin slightly.
He was barely hanging on.
“River,” I said. “I need you present. Are you with me?”
He swallowed thickly and nodded.
I turned to the rest of the group. “Graham,” I said. “You’re going to be on your own. We all have to participate in this fucked up game for the next twenty-four hours. You good?”
“Yeah.”
“If you need anything. Anything. I want you to contact John. Tell him he can contact Tristan for any support or extract you might need. Tristan’s not Cillian. He can be trusted. I’ll deal with the aftermath when I get back.”
Graham nodded tightly. Telling them that I trusted Tristan should’ve come with an explanation I didn’t have time for. Instead, they trusted me. Implicitly.
“Constance will not lay a hand on Henry,” Tor said, his voice taking on a deadly edge to it. “I will challenge her if she does.”
Rumor gave him a sideways glance, the space between his brow folded, before he shook his head and returned his attention to me. “Challenging an heir paints you as a target. I’ll deal with Constance if she touches Henry.”
He arched a brow.
“I can play the part of psycho mafia heir better than the psycho mafia heir that’s actually a psycho.”
“Luca,” Fox stated the obvious. “He’s playing us. I don’t like his olive branch. And why did he just slip it into Tomás’s pocket. How the fuck did he get close enough?” Fox shook his head. “I don’t like it.”
“You don’t trust Tomás?” Graham asked.
Fox looked at me. “No. I’ve never trusted him. But I got nothing solid.”
I bit my lip to keep from saying anything, but I respected my brothers. And they had to know they could be honest with me without losing my shit.
“You have to admit that it feels like he’s hiding something,” Fox said. He wasn’t wrong.
“Well, let’s try to stick with facts before we make assumptions,” I shot back.
“That’s why he’s still breathing,” Fox said, leaning so far back in his chair I wanted to push him to the floor. I didn’t.
“Luca knows about Tomás and me,” I said. “He has pictures. Apparently, Cillian had those pictures too. They were taken here at Arcadia.”
Fox swore. “And now you bring this up?”
“Luca left the pictures scattered on my bed while you were sleeping.” I shoved his feet off the table and he almost fell but caught his balance. “It may have been Jack who took the pictures. We’ll never really know. Anything else anyone wants to put out on the table before we discuss plans on how to keep each other alive?” I paused for a few seconds. No one said anything. I went on. “I believe Henry will be okay collared by Constance, but I’ll keep an eye out on him. With that, I believe Constance will make a play for Charity and since Charity is under our protection, I want Wren with her. Micah will go in with River. And Fox…” I turned to Fox. I knew he didn’t trust Tomás, but I trusted both of them with my life. And Tomás was a part of my life.
Fox rolled his eyes. “If I get stabbed in the back, I’m blaming you.”
I gave him a look.
“Fine. Yes. I’ll protect your pup.”
For the next several hours we pored over the castle’s map. A body dump site, the castle was a graveyard by definition. Built into the side of the mountain, its rotting structure posed more of a threat than the fuckers after us. A series of unchartered catacombs stretched for miles under the castle.
“Ashton is an idiot. He’ll attack during the chaos, but he won’t approach us in a one-on-one fight. Once we get inside the castle, we should be fine. We stay in twos, and don’t, under any circumstances, venture into the catacombs. Make sure everyone understands.” I said this to Fox who nodded grimly.
“The heirs are scheduled to head to the castle earlier with our collared. I’ll take Dasher and Henry with me. Anything else?”
No one spoke.
“Then let’s rest up. We have a long day tomorrow.”
Tor, Rumor, and Graham walked out leaving me and Fox alone. My body felt so fucking tired. Thinking about Tomás, without me.
“You kept saying we, as if you plan on leaving your post with Dasher.”
“He’ll be safe, Fox. I gave you my word.”
He sighed. “I’ll keep Tomás safe, Kieran. But I don’t trust him. Something between him and Luca just doesn’t add up.”
“Then we’ll find facts after the event. Okay?”
He nodded, lips pressed, and walked out.
The house was quiet. Everyone had either left, or found a spot to crash in. Tired, I trudged up the stairs, pausing outside Tomás’s bedroom door. Had he stayed? Did he prefer to be as far away from me as possible? He had broken down with regret after I caught him beating up the mannequin after dinner and all I wanted to do was help him. To ease his suffering. To lift some of the weight he carried. But he still refused to give me anything. And the worst of it was that I knew he thought he was protecting me. And I couldn’t hate him the way I wanted to. I needed him. As attested by the fact that I wanted him to be in his room waiting for me. But when I opened the door, there was nothing but remnants he’d left behind. An echo of our short time together. Him gone.
I had to get a damn grip. The most important thing right now was survival. I opened my door, and my breath got caught in my throat.
Tomás was lying on my bed, curled on his side, his hand under his cheek. He looked so fucking adorable. I closed the door behind me and slipped quietly into the bathroom. After I finished my routine of cleaning up and checking my insulin, I sat beside him and ran my hand through his tangle of curls on his face.
“Hey,” I whispered. Friends. We were friends. I’d never really had a friend before. Fox was more like my assassin buddy. My literal partner in crime.
He lifted his chin, a small smile on his face. It took everything in me not to bend down and kiss him. I couldn’t give him that final piece of myself. Not like this.
“Hey,” he whispered. Then blinked and blinked again. Something wrong must’ve registered in his brain because the smile fell and he pulled away from me and sat up on the bed. “Shit. I’m sorry. I must’ve fallen asleep.”
“It’s okay,” I said, my heart hurting. “Stay.” He lifted those full, brown eyes to me as if not believing what I just said. “Stay tonight.”
“Are you sure?”
“I am. Tomorrow will sort itself out.”
A slow smile lightened his tired eyes. “Wow, for a control freak that must’ve been hard to say.”
I laughed. Fucker. “Go take a shower, you’re putting germs on my bed.” I looked away, feeling so fucking discombobulated. My feelings in a constant tug of war, push and pull, and I needed to come to a decision. Let him go or keep him. My mind swirling through everything we’d been through to get us here. I knew I wanted him more than my next breath. I knew despite the lies, the pain, I needed whatever he’d give me.
I didn’t realize the shower stopped until he walked out of the bathroom. A towel hanging low on his hips. His body bruised. Because of course he would tempt me and piss me off all in one shot. “Are you going to tell me what happened?”
He looked at his ribs, then back at me. “Ashton and his goons. I’m fine,” he said tightly.
Ashton was a dead man.
“Do you have an extra pair of joggers?”
Of course he knew I did.
“No,” I said, because my cock took that moment to jump.
“Are you sure?”
Fuck it to all hell. “Yeah, I’m sure.” I pulled the blanket away from my body and lowered my PJs. My dick sprung free, already fucking attentive to him.
With no hesitation, Tomás pulled off his towel and narrowed the gap between us. I would never tire of watching the dips and peaks of his sculpted body. The growing appendage between his legs. So fucking beautiful. And mine . He climbed over me with hunger in his eyes as I warred with emotions I had no clue what to do with.
Don’t do this.
I slowly grazed my fingers against his bruised ribs. Fuck it, one night.
Don’t give him control over your heart.
His skin pebbled under my touch. Fuck it, I’ve been a black stain for my whole fucking life.
I wanted this. I needed this.
I cupped his head and crushed our mouths together. A desperate kiss fueled with finality that punched a hole in my heart. Tomorrow would sort itself out, but tonight we had this.
The clean scent of soap filled my senses. I cupped his ass and met his thrust. It wasn’t enough. It’d never be enough with Tomás. He dragged his lips along my jaw, sucked my ear. “Kieran,” he whispered. “I’ll wait for you. When you’re ready, I’ll be here.”
Tears edged my eyes as he took my body in ways that drew out everything I hid behind my heart. Sex and love were not supposed to be synonymous. Hook-ups were a thing that didn’t include the heart. I’d been the lucky motherfucker who had both and risked it all.
Anger pushed to the surface, and I rolled him over, pinning his hands while thrusting my hips into him, seeking more friction. Both our cocks glazed in precum. “You’ll tell me what I need to know after the games. Everything.”
“I swear. Everything.”
I claimed his mouth, then licked my way down his chest, flicking his nipples with my tongue as he writhed under me, gently teasing his bruised ribs. I spread his legs wide and dipped my head and flicked my tongue against his hole. He clenched.
“What the fuck?”
“Shut up and let me do this.”
I nuzzled his dick, flattening my tongue against his slit, tasting him. Then I returned to his fucking tight hole. He smelled and tasted of soap. He fucking knew I couldn’t resist him.
Fuck. The thought drew fire in my veins. My own dick so damn hard, I wouldn’t fucking last. Especially not with the colorful choice in his language arsenal. Yeah, I loved giving him control, but I loved taking it from him too. I loved making him lose it for me. The most beautiful sight in the world. I reached for the lube while he watched.
“Oh, fuck, really?”
I stopped over him. “Do you want me to stop?”
“No. Fuck. No.”
But I also saw the hint of shame as if he shouldn’t like it. I nuzzled into his neck, pressed feather light kisses against his jaw, his clavicle, the tattoo on his chest. “It’s okay, Tomás.”
He sighed. His body relaxing under me. “I know,” he said. I waited for the but, but it didn’t come.
“Do you want to fuck me?” His dick pulsed at the word fuck. It made me smile. “Because if you want to fuck me,” the pulse again. “I don’t mind you fucking—”
“You’re such an ass,” he laughed and spun me on my back, his arms braced on either side of me, his body flushed against mine. His eyes so damn mesmerizing. His smile faded, but the heated look in his eyes remained. “I want you to fuck me,” he said, grazing my lips with his. I felt the pulse against my cock. “Do with me what you want. I can take it.”
I arched a brow. “Hmm, we’ll see about that.”