Page 11 of Descent

A few minutes pass as I tinker with the firing pin on my Beretta. The water cuts off.

“There’s some clothes on the bed.” I’m halfway back to the room when he steps into view, tugging on the tight-fitting pants I bought for him.

A glimpse of smooth, muscular ass cheeks, a hint of what might or might not be an impressive length slip from sight as he buttons the black slacks. I stifle a long, shuddering sigh as he turns back toward me, grabbing the T-shirt and slinging his towel off onto the floor.

A few beads of water glitter on that chest, framed by round, bold shoulders. He’s ripped as hell, slender and tall, but stacked with more than a fair share of powerful muscle. Scars crisscross his perfect skin here and there, fine and white against his light tan flesh.

So fucking lickable.

I swear to God, shut it.

“So what’s the pitch?”

“I’m sorry?”

“You want me to help you get revenge, sure. Recover whatever we can about our past.”

“That’s the short version.”

“That’s barely a fucking concept. You’ve got backing. Seemingly unlimited funds. And don’t think I haven’t lookedinto the work you’ve done every place you’ve followed me to. You’re working for someone. Someone with deep pockets and even bigger ambitions. A long-term game plan.”

“Look at that, he’s not a complete idiot.” More than that, he’s got me pegged to a T. I hide my surprise though. Of course he would look into the woman following him. I just don’t know when or how he did it. I’m always extremely careful to cover my tracks.

And he’s usually drunk or running to stay out ahead of me.

“So?” He cocks his hip, his shirt still hanging from one hand. Distracting.

But not so much that I lose all sense of purpose.

I have to be so careful what I say next. It’s been months of this, back and forth, trying to get him interested, trying to get him to do what I need him to do.

What my boss wants him to do.

But he can’t know certain things. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

Like who his family really was. The relationship between them and my employer, and with my family prior to Dom selling us all out.

Taking a deep breath, I lean back against the dresser, crossing my arms.

“Fine. I’ll admit, you’re not wrong about some of what you said. I wouldn’t be chasing you all over the fucking world if there wasn’t a very good reason to do so. Honestly, it’s exhausting.”

“I get it, you hate me.”

“No. I hate wasting time. I hate following a lead that will never pan out. But it’s not my call.”

“Great. So we agree. Stop following me.”

“Will you just—” I hiss a sigh through my teeth, right about the time I hear a knock at the door. I let the bellhop in, point for him to park the food cart. Flicking the young man a tip, I close the door, turning to find Ero at the table digging in.

Maybe he’ll be more receptive after he eats.

“Want anything to drink?” I offer, crossing to the fridge.

One eyebrow raises at me over a mouthful of steak. “That’s rather servile of you.”

“Ugh. Can you be less annoying? Ever?” I toss a bottle of beer at his head, knowing he’ll catch it before he snatches it out of the air and pops the top off with a knife that suddenly appears in his hand. In the same motion, he tips it back, catching the foam before it overflows, watching me the entire time.

I let him eat and drink for a few moments, taking a few bites of my meal standing against the counter. After a while, he seems subdued. I can see how tired he is too.

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