Chapter 4 #2
I’d tried to minimize Devlin’s harm over the years, which Ben didn’t approve of, and he didn’t even know the half of what I did.
I stayed under Devlin’s radar, helping some of the victims of his bribery and schemes and crimes.
That was all the manpower I had. But lately, within the last few years, Devlin had been expanding.
He had prostitutes all over the city, most of them addicted to whatever he shot through their veins to make them compliant.
He ran illegal gambling halls, underground fights, and sold drugs.
As he got more powerful, the guilt of being unable to stop him—or maybe unwilling to go as far as I had to go—ate at me.
I’d let it go too long. His network was too vast now. Taking him out would create a power vacuum in the underbelly of Detroit that would only incite more violence. More victims. More deaths.
And it was all my fault. Devlin had never taken rejection well, and I’d cut him deep.
Every time I tried to tell myself that I wasn’t responsible for Devlin’s actions, I remembered the look on his face the last time we’d had a conversation.
The one where I’d turned him into a monster.
His green eyes had darkened, and his smile twisted sinister. You’ll regret this.
My gut rolled as a headache bloomed between my eyes. I finally lifted my head to look at Nik. He watched me carefully with his ice blue eyes. “He just couldn’t stop, could he?” I spoke through gritted teeth. “He couldn’t be happy small-time. He had to be the fucking ruler of his shitty kingdom.”
“He’ll come for Soto next,” Nik said.
I had to protect Soto. He was the one weapon I had to fight Devlin. “I need more men.”
“I’ll get them.” Nik was so sure, as if he could conjure bodies out of nowhere.
But I didn’t want a war yet. “I’ll arrange a meet first.”
Nik’s lips curled. “What for? So he can shoot you in your face?”
I gave him a look. “If Devlin wanted me dead, I’d be dead. And vice versa.”
“You don’t want him dead?” Nik clearly did.
I’d known Devlin when he was a skinny preteen with acne and a bad haircut. I knew how he smiled when I stole him some Dilly bars from the local Dairy Queen along with an ice cream cake that had read, Happy Retirement.
I knew what he looked like when he leaned into kiss me. And what he looked like when I…
I shook my head, suddenly feeling so exhausted that I could barely get my tongue to work. “Not now, Nik.”
“It’ll come.” He seemed so sure that I could ever accept the death of my former best friend, no matter how far he’d fallen.
“Gather men,” I said, fatigue weighing every word. “I’ll work on a meeting.”
“As you or Soto?”
I glanced up sharply. “Me.”
Nik rolled his unlit cigarette between his tattooed fingers. “If you say so.”
“Why can’t you be a yes man? Vill be done, boss.” I pitched my voice low with an exaggerated Russian accent. Nik barely even had an accent.
He was unamused. “I refuse to accept stupid ideas.”
God, I loved him. “Go away, I have a headache.”
He rose to his feet with a silent grace that always astonished me. “Drink more water.”
“Yes, daddy.”
He grunted in disgust. He hated that. Which was why I did it. He’d made it halfway to the door before he turned around. For the first time in a long time, he seemed unsure. Hesitant. “You’ve been a bit distracted since Friday.”
“Oh for fuck’s—”
“Did something happen with him?”
Heat licked up my neck, and I couldn’t tell if it was anger, frustration, arousal, or a combination of all three.
I decided to settle on anger, and I decided to direct my anger at Nik, because he was there, and he’d forgive me for just about anything.
“Watch it,” I said low in warning. Nik never asked me about men I slept with.
He also never backed down from me. If anything, he seemed to find my response alarming. His body went tight, and he squared his shoulders to face me. I recognized his expression immediately. Concern. His eyes were shards of ice. “Did he hurt you?”
My throat threatened to close. Nik would have seen Tav, not well, but enough to judge his bulk.
I forced myself to unclench my fists and lower my shoulders.
The last thing I needed was Nik sniffing around Tav.
At least before I asked him to. I held his gaze and spoke with sincerity, “No, he didn’t, Nik. Not at all.”
Nik’s nostrils flared once. Twice. Then, in a tone that was much softer, “Did you hurt him?”
My breathing hitched, and I couldn’t look Nik in the eyes anymore. I dropped my gaze to my hands where they rested flat on my desk.
Tav’s eyes full of liquid heat. The way his body writhed under my hands. The rasp of his voice. The strain of his muscles as he fought his bindings. The need in his whimpers. The desperation with which he’d taken my cock.
Waking up to an empty bed.
Had I hurt him somehow?
“I don’t think so,” I answered Nik. “But I’m not sure.”
When he didn’t answer or move, I finally looked up. Nik’s expression was calm. “It’s okay, Conrad.”
But was it?
Two weeks later, I stood under my shower, letting the lava-hot water pelt my back to the point of pain, and I began to question whether his name really was Tav.
I’d been so sure he’d been telling the truth at the time.
But now I replayed that moment over and over again in my mind.
The sheen in his eyes. The tightness of his muscled body.
My cock filled, and I ignored it. I’d already stroked myself too many times to count to the memory of Tav, and each time left me wrung dry but unsatisfied.
I scrubbed a hand over my face and slammed my hand on the water lever.
It shut off, leaving me dripping on the tile floor.
My skin cooled quickly, and I stood shivering until I forced myself out of the shower.
I dried off and tied the towel around my waist as I shuffled to my mirror which was fogged with steam.
Swiping a hand across it, I stared at myself.
I hadn’t been getting proper sleep. Blue tinged the skin below my eyes.
I had to get over this. I should have been happy with what I got, and instead I could only think about how much more I wanted that I’d never have from him.
With a growl, I stalked out of my bathroom and strode to my closet.
I had to pull myself together. Work called.
Soto needed tending to. I couldn’t mope over a man.
Three weeks later, and I almost convinced myself I imagined the whole thing.
He haunted my apartment, and I began to imagine things that never even happened—showering with him, drinking coffee at my kitchen island, laughing as we watched a funny movie on the couch.
I didn’t even know what his laugh sounded like.
I searched the internet for all the names that Tav could be short for. Then I’d searched those names. Then I stopped myself before I went insane.
Four weeks later—a whole month since Tav had snuck out of my apartment—I was furious at him.
At myself. At literally everyone. I snapped at Ben and Nik over little things.
The former rolled his eyes at me and the latter threatened to punch me in the jaw.
Part of me thought maybe that was what I needed. A hard hit to the face.
I caved and snuck into Collar on a Friday night. My gaze had immediately strayed to the corner of the bar—Tav’s corner—but instead of his hulking shadowed form, two men were huddled there, kissing and laughing. I hated them instantly.
I sat at the bar for hours with a glass of whiskey in front of me.
I didn’t take a sip for a long time. What if Tav showed up?
I had to be sober. But the clock kept ticking, and he never showed.
By the time Nik came to retrieve me from the bar, I was plastered and pissed.
Nik dumped me in my apartment unceremoniously, clearly tired of my shit.
Yeah, well I was tired too. Maybe I’d never see Tav again, but if I did, I wasn’t sure how I could keep myself from punishing him for making me this weak after one single night.