Chapter 10

Rash decisions weren’t Rhodey’s style, but inaction didn’t sit well either. Two days after keeping Avery in his bed and letting Lawson carry on enjoying his freedom, and he was still questioning both decisions. He’d killed men for the kind of thing Lawson had told him, but that information had never come to him willingly. Besides, Lawson was more useful moving about the club as though no one suspected a thing.

Because no one else did.

Whoever his handlers were, they’d likely present themselves in time, and there’d be a whole different mess to deal with. As for the other agent tasked with eliminating Wren, he’d be feeling some pressure after Kovit’s disappearance. It made sense that there would be two assigned to work The Asylum. Any more and it would be a fucking mess. Hunting a target through the woods? Sure, send in as much manpower as possible. But in a location like this?

Don’t draw attention. Don’t give any reason for caution. Find. Destroy. Move on.

Looking over at the bed, he took in Avery’s sleepy expression as he lazed back against the pillows, his lips slightly curved. In about twenty minutes, he’d be out for at least three-and-a-half hours. As much as Rhodey enjoyed having the little sub around, he wasn’t an idiot. Leaving anyone alone in his loft for any length of time made his fucking skin itch, but not so much when they were sleeping.

And wouldn’t wake up until he’d finished his own tasks for the afternoon.

Tucking his gun into the holster at his side, Rhodey went to the bed, leaning over to kiss Avery, catching one lip piercing between his teeth because he’d become rather obsessed with them. Dark brown hair all mussed from the pillow, blue eyes hooded, pale skin flushed, the boy looked damn good in his bed.

“I’ll be back before you know it.” Rhodey pulled the blanket over Avery’s bare chest. He’d left him with nothing but the thick bedding to cover himself, taking his time peeling off the layers, doing little else no matter how much pleading there was in Avery’s gaze. “Need me to bring you anything?”

“Bavarian cream donuts.” The admission accompanied a tiny blush, as if the sub revealed a weakness he hadn’t intended. The drugs were working already. “It’s the filling.”

Chuckling, Rhodey nodded and pressed his lips to Avery’s forehead. “I’ll see what I can do. Did you finish your crossword? I can get you a book of them if you want?”

That suggestion produced a frown. “As long as they’re not the ones on the super cheap paper that leak ink because everyone expects you to do them in pencil. Or have ‘K through twelve’ printed on the cover.”

“Expensive crosswords and donuts I’ve never heard of. Got it.” Rhodey grinned, brushing Avery’s soft hair back from his forehead. “I think I’ll give you a shower when I get back. And don’t tell me you can do it yourself, I don’t care.”

“Hmph.” The little metal fangs twitched. “Promises, promises.”

Oh, this one is going to be fun to fuck with. Rhodey gave him a mild look. “Keep it up, cheeky. I like showers for spankings. They leave an...impression.”

A different kind of blush crept up Avery’s neck as he self-consciously jerked the covers up to his chin. As if the blanket were made of steel instead of cloth. “I’m injured.”

“Thankfully, your ass is not.”

“Just the donuts and crosswords, if it pleases you, sir.” The sub lowered dark lashes, looking up like he’d been born to flirt his way into Fort Knox. Or Rhodey’s heart. Whichever target presented itself first.

If only he didn’t have other things to take care of, he’d indulge in a bit more time here, but that would come. He rose, nodding once. “It does. Now get some rest. And stay in bed. I catch you wandering the hall naked and it won’t be a spanking you’ll have to worry about.” Not that he’d be conscious for long enough to even consider going anywhere, but the boy didn’t know that. “I’ll let you wear clothes again when I feel like letting you out of my bed, and we’re not there yet.”

Avery’s lids blinked, heavy, and he touched Rhodey’s arm with a soft smile. “Me either.”

Satisfied that the sub was all set, Rhodey squeezed his fingers, then lowered his hand to his side before leaving the room. He grabbed an envelope and checked his pocket for the small memory card he’d gotten for the handheld game he’d given Wren. Or, well, given Jared for Wren. Hopefully, he’d made some progress and could start working on something more challenging.

Securing his door behind him, he made his way up to the fourth floor, double-checking the stairwell was clear before entering his code and looking up at the camera, which would do a readout of his eyes and face before letting him through. He stepped past the door, listened to the lock snick shut, and went to knock on Jared’s door.

Not that he needed to, but he wasn’t in the mood to be shot at if he caught the man off guard.

Footsteps approached the door, then softened as if the person on the other side had been in a rush, then remembered themselves. “I can think of three people I wouldn’t shoot for being on the other side of that door. Are you one of them?”

“Today, or on average?” Rhodey leaned against the wall by the door, letting out a soft laugh. “You really need to clarify.”

The door opened, Jared in a soft gray suit, white shirt with French cuffs and silver cufflinks in the shape of ravens at his wrists. His dark blue tie was loosened, the top button undone. “No. I don’t really, but I think you’d just absorb the bullet and spit it back out between your teeth.” He stood back. “Come in.”

That would be a neat trick. Rhodey walked into the loft, giving Jared a crooked grin. “If I could do that, you wouldn’t get the pleasure of digging them out and we wouldn’t be such good friends anymore.”

Light blue eyes warmed with memory, but Jared’s mouth remained unsmiling. The man moved toward his kitchen, steps brisk. “I’ve got twenty minutes before my next patient. I’d like some lunch.”

“Just stopping by to check on your boy. He up?” Rhodey followed Jared to the kitchen. “And sure, I’d love to join you for lunch. What did you make us?”

Foraging in the fridge, Jared looked over his shoulder. “The fish pie is four days old. I was going to chance it. Want some?”

“Damn, Jared. I treat my captives better than that. Tell me you’re not feeding your little birdie that shit.” Rhodey pulled out a chair at the kitchen table, dropping into it heavily just to hear it creak. The ability to move soundlessly was useful and all, but sometimes it grounded him to make his presence known, if only to himself. “I can go down to the kitchen and see what Keiran’s set aside. He’d happily send up food for both of you. You know that.”

Plunking down the pie plate on the counter, Jared poked dubiously at the slimy crust, the sharp curves of his upper lip flattening. “That might be for the best. I’ll grab an energy drink and you and Wren can lunch together when I leave.”

“Yes, because I’m gonna let you go back to work without a proper meal. You’re funny.” Rhodey frowned at Jared, pushing off the chair. “Don’t make me put the building on lockdown just to feed you, because you know I will.”

The man issued a soft growl. “Not funny. And I don’t want to fall behind. Last night, I didn’t get back here until two hours after the clinic was supposed to be closed. You’d think I was the only doctor in the entirety of New York State.”

Rhodey sighed and shook his head. “Hire some people, my man. Either way, you’re fucking eating. I won’t be long.”

Without waiting for an answer, he headed back out, double-timing it down the stairs once he passed the security doors, grinning when he came up behind Dallas, who was chatting with Shea over a couple of beers and eating a massive meatball sub.

He waited until the man finished his mouthful so he wouldn’t choke, before setting his hands on his shoulders. “That looks good.”

Dallas’s reflexes had improved, because otherwise Rhodey would have worn the sandwich with how close it came to his face with the jump-scare he gave the man. “Fucking Christ. I could’ve choked.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I’m never that careless.” Rhodey brushed his hand over Dallas’s hair and nodded to Shea, who was less punchable since Dallas had kicked his ass. “I’d stick around and chat, but I need to use your sub for a minute.”

The heat that entered Dallas’s brown eyes said a whole host of new script ideas presented themselves to his imagination as a result of the phrasing. “Make sure you make him put away the knife first. He’s chopping onions for chili.”

“Now why would I do that?” Rhodey’s lips slanted as he crossed the bar. If Keiran managed to stab him, he wouldn’t have to worry about him so much. And neither would Dallas. But he sincerely doubted they’d reached that level in his nonconsensual training—though they would.

Eventually.

Slipping into the kitchen quietly, Rhodey watched Keiran for a moment, shaking his head when the sub didn’t even shift or show any sign that he knew someone was in the kitchen with him. He continued cutting the onions, slower than he would have once, but he’d adjusted somewhat to the lack of strength in his hands. Black hair pulled back under a hairnet that was almost invisible, singing softly to himself, he was completely lost to his task.

Sweet boy. Until you piss him off.

Though he was sexy when he got riled up, so that worked too. Rhodey moved to his side. “Are there any leftovers I can grab?”

Spinning, knife out, Keiran cursed under his breath in Spanish as Rhodey plucked the thing from his hand, eyes narrowing. “One of these days, I’m not going to miss.”

Rhodey inclined his head. “That’s what I’m going for. So...leftovers?”

“Why should I feed you? You’re evil and my heart is still in my throat.” Keiran’s words were all grumpy, but he was already moving to the fridge, pulling out a few containers. “Here. There’s some chicken. Some proper macaroni salad. The noodles do matter and you ever put apples in it again and I’m going to kill you.”

“Flirt.” Rhodey took the containers and brushed a kiss over Keiran’s cheek. “Thank you, boy. And for that I won’t tell Dallas you swore at me.”

“But I didn’t!”

“I know.” Rhodey gave him a level look. “You didn’t swear at me. But you don’t get to use loopholes unless I’m in a good mood. And I am. See you later, pet.”

On his way out of the kitchen, he ducked just in time, snorting as the pot hit the door while he was opening it. He’d figured the boy would earn a punishment without his help. Once in awhile, he liked pretending to be the good guy.

Never got him far, but it was amusing at least.

“He didn’t get me with the knife.” Rhodey caught Dallas’s eye. “But his aim’s improving.”

“I’m giving him a freebie.” Dallas shot him a grin. “Unless you come over later to watch the fights with me. You’ve been holed up for a week, my man. What gives? You finally decide to keep a harem of lost souls?”

“Naw, hiding a body in the walls. Always wanted to do that.” He might eventually discuss Avery with Dallas. Once he figured out what there was to discuss. But not in front of anyone he didn’t trust. Last thing Avery needed once he was recovered enough to get back to his job was a target on his back. “And he’s too well behaved. I worked hard at that. Give me something, my man.”

Chuckling darkly, Dallas stood, heading toward the kitchen. “You’ll have to listen, not watch. I’m putting his apron over the camera.”

“I gotta get this upstairs before Jared poisons himself with the nasty shit he keeps in his fridge. If you cover the camera, what am I supposed to watch on my downtime?”

“I dunno.” Hand on the door, Dallas shook his head. “Pay-Per-View?”

“You’re a cruel man, Dallas.” Rhodey’s lips curved into a slow smile. “But I can guarantee a live replay. I’ll get back to you on coming to watch the fight. Or the next beating. Whichever comes first.”