13. Chapter 13
Rylen
Everything from last night is a jagged mess in my brain; the needle pulling through my skin, the look on Maddox’s face, the way he watched me lose myself—I didn’t just let him cross a line, I let him erase it, practically begged him to.
I'm rifling through Nathyn's locker with more furosity than is needed, the movement making the stitches in my ear sting like a bitch. I grope for my phone inside my pants pocket, the brightness of the screenlight feels like a physical stab to my retinas.
Most of them are from Astrid—security updates over the mess with Morrow. I ignore those, audibly growling when I see that Nathyn still has not checked in with me; then my thumb stops on the one name that makes my gut twist into a knot.
Bry .
I scroll through his texts, the timestamps hitting me like a succession of body blows.
11:45 PM:
Nathyn says there was a big fight at the club! A client had a weapon??? he doesn't know where you are. Tell me you're okay.
12:18 AM:
I keep calling and it's going straight to voicemail. You better be okay :'(
12:30 AM:
Rylen, please. I need to know you're safe!!
12:36 AM:
Fuck this. I'm coming to the penthouse.
The last one was sent at 1:00 AM... I remember 1:00 AM well—it's around the time that I was pressed against the edge of a mahogany desk, moaning into Maddox’s mouth while Felicia finished me off.
I drop the phone back into my pants pocket, I can't bare to look at the messages any longer. Bry was sitting in the dark, terrified I was hurt, while I was upstairs being a "good boy" and cumming on command like a trained pet. The thought makes me fucking disgusted with myself.
This is not who I am. I’ve spent my whole life being the guy who stays in control, the guy who does the right thing.
Last night I let myself become just another one of Maddox's play-things who didn't even remember that I was meant to be on a fucking date with Bry, too caught up in running around as a pathetic errand boy the second Mads needed me.
We’ve barely said two words to each other since our encounter last night—when he tried to use my desire to be loved as a method of control.
At work, he’s still been his usual smug self on the surface, cracking jokes and pretending nothing has shifted, yet I could feel it every time he looked at me.
That silent awareness, like we were both waiting for the other to crack first.
I needed space, to get away from the sickening twist in my gut whenever I caught myself staring into the sea of his eyes. That's why I'm here, searching Nathyn's locker as if it could give me any answers about where he is or what he does when he isn't at work.
"Rylen?"
My shoulders slump in defeat as I hear the sound of Maddox's voice. You've got to be kidding me. Of course he's here right now…
I slam the locker door shut and turn to look at the beautiful nightmare I can't get away from.
This whole day has passed in a blur of exhaustion and the feeling that my every movement is being tracked—the space I've been trying to garner all day is utterly irrelevant now because here he is; hunting me down like I'm his personal property .
By the time the heavy door clicks shut behind him, I’ve thoroughly read that look in Maddox’s eyes and it isn’t anything good. He’s leaning back against the wall, arms folded, head tilted like he’s trying to solve a puzzle. It sparks an uneasiness in my stomach.
"Mr. Warner offered triple the rate for The Blood Woman. I’ve accepted, he’s heading up to her suite now," he says, lazily pushing off the wall. Of all the possibilities for what he could be here to say, that wasn't one of them.
My body begins to tremble with a wave of emotion I'm not willing to let myself feel. I try to extinguish the little fires spreading all through my nervous system though it's a feeble attempt, and only serves to make my face flush with embarrassment.
"You’re letting some fucking hot shot client skip the protocols when we still have a traitor in the building? Do you have any idea how dangerous that is? Not to mention stupid," I retort, huffing a sharp breath through my nose.
"I’m keeping the lights on, while you’re out there telling the staff I’m docking their pay. You’re turning my own men against me!" he barks.
Against him? Can't he see that all I've ever done since the moment we met was try to protect him? I'm doing this to protect the thing he built, the thing that he cares more about than anything else in the world.
A breath later, Maddox is right in front of my face, close enough that I can smell the faint trace of Felicia’s perfume on his shirt.
Jealousy coils its way into my chest like barbed wire, constricting tighter the more the scent of cherry assaults my nostrils.
My jaw sets, teeth clenching firmly as I stare him dead in the eyes.
"I’m trying to find the rat, Maddox," I challenge, completely in shock that he doesn't see how much I'm doing to protect him.
"I’m trying to save you from yourself!" I add, feeling myself grow wearier by the second.
I'm running on an empty stomach, two hours of broken sleep and an ache deep in my soul that wont go away.
"Is that what you were doing last night? Saving me?" he taunts, that infuriating half-smile ghosting across his face.
“I told you—I don't remember," I lie feigning a smirk, even the confession barely comes out above a whisper. I find myself wondering if it’s even worth the inevitable fight if I don’t back down now.
"Liar," he murmurs, his fingers brushing the cut along my jaw, then disappearing before I even have time to flinch away. "You remember every second. You remember the way it tasted, the way you begged."
My pulse spikes, banging in my chest so loud I’m certain Maddox can hear it echoing in the quiet of the basement. I can feel beads of sweat pooling at the nape of my neck, the humid heat of my own panic making my skin itch. I don’t want to talk about this. I can’t.
Every word out of his mouth is a match held to a fuse I’ve been trying to keep dry all day. It’s not right—what we did, it’s—it can never happen again.
His hand twists into the fabric of my collar, dragging me forward until our breath collides.
The kiss doesn’t quite land when instead of leaning into it, I jerk back fast enough that our teeth clash painfully.
My body reacts before my brain can catch up, moving on instinct, slamming him against the wall of lockers; the impact echoes through the room.
“Don’t you ever try to pull that kind of shit on me again.
Got it?” I snarl. My grip on his wrists feels tight enough to crush his carpal bones, and my whole body trembles with the effort not to throw a punch.
And yet, traitorous flutters spread through my lower gut at how close were were to kissing.
I can't let that happen, because if it does, I don't know how I could ever stop.
For several beats we just stay there, neither of us moving an inch, Maddox’s mouth parted and my pulse hammering in my throat. Maddox’s mouth curves up at the edges, slow and menacing. “I’m starting to think you just like pinning me up against things, love.”
My cock kicks up at the word ' love '. Maddox notices because he can't take his eyes off my bulge, growing harder under his gaze. That flicker of humour in his stare only serves to feed the fire burning through my veins.
His hand slips easily from my loosening grasp, trailing down my stomach to cup the front of my pants. I have to bite my tongue to contain the groan it produces.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I gasp. My words come out rough, disbelief still clouding me.
Maddox’s breath hitches but the bastard still has the audacity to smirk.
“Giving your body what it knows it wants,” he taunts, rolling his hips forward into my groin.
A heat crawls up my neck as I feel the outline of his cock through his slacks.
He’s crazy. Nothing even happened the other night.
We tag teamed someone together, so what if we kissed?
I’ve kissed plenty of people before, it shouldn’t make a difference that this one just so happened to be my best friend.
If anything, that should make it even less complicated.
Best friends have blurred boundaries anyway; it’s why they’re called best friends…
right? He’s throwing me a knowing look, as if he can read the thoughts written across my face.
“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” I choke out, forcing a laugh, but he’s not buying it for one second.Why is he doing this? Why did things have to change?
I should’ve seen this coming, he’d been hovering all morning before we left for work, lingering too long in doorways. Watching me through the crack in the door like he was waiting for something to happen.
“Are we really going to do this, Ry?” I hate when Maddox takes that exasperated tone with me. My nails snag on the delicate skin of his wrists, re-pinning him down harder.
“You don’t know what I want,” I whisper, eyes falling to his chest. Is his heart beating the same way mine is?
No, shut up . We’re friends . Practically brothers.
This is not what friends think about. They do not think about how soft and full their friends lips are, the way they taste, the perfect fucking moans they make. Fuck.
My lungs can barely manage to suck in a full breath while Mads simply smiles in response; the prick actually smiles, like he’s enjoying this.He grinds against my cock again and my knees threaten to collapse.
“No?” He coos, “then why are you rock solid, baby?”