Page 32 of Blind Justice

“Tried the club,” he admitted.

It had failed…big time.

He ended up picking a free, experienced male sub. It was going pretty damn well until it came time for the sub to suck his dick. Duncan halted the scene the moment the other male’s lips had touched his tip. He’d immediately moved them into aftercare. He couldn’t even explain it if he tried, but, in the long run, he’d felt like he was cheating on Enzo. Which was bullshit, because he wasn’t in any type of relationship with the young man and didn’t owe him any loyalty.

Thomas snickered. “Pull your head out of your ass, Duncan, before it slips through your fingers.”

Sometimes he hated how Thomas knew him so well and could decipher his feelings better than he could.

“It’s not that easy.”

“Bullshit. It’s easy if you’d stop pussyfooting around.” Thomas blew out a breath. “Stubborn, pigheaded Irishman.”

In a rare form of defiance, Duncan let the brogue he worked so hard to hide shine in all its glory. “If you’re tinkin yisser insultin’ me wi’ dat slur, you’d be dead wrong.”

Damn, that felt good. Freeing.

“There he is.”

“Langer,” he spat.

Thomas chuckled. “Now, now, you’re not being very nice.”

“Feck you,” he grumbled. “I’m hanging up now, asshole.”

Thomas’s laughter was the last thing he heard before he disconnected the call. His exit was the next one, and if he was lucky, he could get a hot shower and be in bed in under twenty minutes.

After clearing through security at the gate and pulling into his assigned parking spot, he finished the last of his coffee. He tossed the empty cup in one of the outside trashcans before making his way upstairs. The tension at the base of his skull had lessened, leaving behind a phantom ache. He’d have to monitor it, but hopefully with the shot of caffeine and the meds, he’d save himself from another shot.

Duncan frowned as he stepped onto the elevator. The frequency of his migraines were increasing, something his doctors informed him would happen over time. They were traveling. He could pinpoint where they originated and then moved. It was weird, to say the least, and if he uttered it out loud, he was sure his doctor would call him crazy.

Exhausted, he stepped off the elevator and trudged down the hall to his home away from home. Duncan stuck his key into the lock and turned it. When he opened the door, he found himself looking down the barrel of a 9mm.

Omar hissed. “Fuck me.”

The gun pointed at Duncan didn’t faze him. “Most people know me longer than two weeks before they want to pull a gun on me.”

Omar flicked the safety on before holstering his weapon. “I could’ve shot you.”

Duncan shrugged. “You didn’t.”

Omar scowled and continued to keep his voice low. “We need to come up with some sort of system.”

“Agreed. I’ll knock twice, pause, knock one time, pause, and then knock twice again before opening the door. Work for you?”

“Yeah,” Omar said, cleaning his mess off the coffee table.

“Any issues?”

Omar shook his head. “She wasn’t having a good night. Listening to her sob half the time just about broke my heart. Enzo decided the best bet was to get her to sleep.”

“People handle stress differently. Bella will have her good days and bad,” Duncan replied. “I’ll need to go out tomorrow to run some errands and do some work. Can you be here by mid-morning?”

“Of course.” Omar nodded.

“I’ll give you some money—can you stop and get lunch for everyone?”

Omar picked up the remote, turning off the game he was watching. “Not a problem.”

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