Page 9 of His Coveted Obsession

His smile grew broader, which softened his features, reminding me of Thomas in a way. “They do sometimes. So, why are you telling me this then if it’s nothing more than a fuck?”

“Should I do something for him? Bring him flowers? Or a present? It’ll be exhausting to fake being someone else with smiles and act like I’m in love, but it’s what they want, right?”

“You rarely pretend, East. Did you do that with Thomas when you met him? You said you were just yourself, right?”

“Right.”

“There you go. If he’s willing to date the real you, then you’ll be fine.”

“So, no chocolate or flowers?”

“I don’t think that’s necessary. For now, it’s just sex, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then leave it at that unless you find you want more with him. Then worry about the rest later.”

“Okay.”

“Now go see Maverick. I have an assignment for both of you. He already has the details.”

“Thank you, Dalton.”

“You’re welcome. And thank you for taking Owen to school today. He loves it when it’s you who takes him.”

I nodded and headed out to see Maverick, who was upstairs in the library section, reading through some files. I sat at the wooden table across from him, surrounded by shelves of books. The library and tables were situated on a raised platform, and in the center was the pathway to the lounge, kitchen, and offices. The windows were massive and had a surrounding view of Washington, DC.

I sat across from the massive man, wearing reading glasses. He wasn’t that old yet, not as old as Sid or Dalton, but he was close.He had dark brown hair that fell to his shoulders in waves, and his eyes were hazel with a touch of green.

Maverick was recruited years ago by Malik, who had stumbled upon him on the dark web. He’d been part of a powerful motorcycle gang and second in command. When the leader learned Maverick was gay, he challenged him and nearly killed him. His story wasn’t unlike Sid’s, who had gone through something similar. Criminal organizations had no tolerance for those who are LGBTQ+, which was stupid. Who cared who you slept with? A person was a person.

“Dalton said he has a job for us.”

“Yep. Juan Ruiz. He is a Venezuelan leader of theLos Inquebrantablesgang, which is expanding in the U.S., particularly in Washington. He specializes in the basics—drugs, weapons, sex trafficking, and prostitution. He’s also violent as hell. We’re to go in quietly to take out Juan and his men. Dalton believes they’re small enough to end them entirely if we cut off these particular snake heads. Dante and Khai will go into their warehouses, and clean them out of men, and see if there are victims who need rescuing.”

“When do we go?” I asked.

“You have two days. Study the file thoroughly. We’ll be going to Juan’s personal home Wednesday night, so it shouldn’t be heavy with guards. Only a select few, but theywillbe professionals. I’ll take out the ones outside, guarding the perimeter. You’ll handle the ones inside. The floor plan is there, along with all the men who work for him.”

I nodded and grabbed the file.

“Killing people like these brings me joy.”

Maverick grinned, looking at me over the rim of his glasses. “You and me both, kiddo.”

Itwasafterninewhen I got home, completely exhausted. Between working early mornings and taking college courses in the afternoons and at night, it was a lot to handle. While tired, I couldn’t stop thinking about my sexy hero. I loved how Easton didn’t give two cares about what anyone thought. He took charge of a difficult situation with that horrible man and brushed it off as if it were nothing. God, he was so cute.

Easton was exactly my type—strong, silent, broody. He was so mysterious. I struggled to focus on classes today, my mind completely preoccupied by a blond man with beautifully haunting pale brown eyes.

I walked into the old home my dad rented on A Street, near Capitol Hill. It wasn’t exactly the nicest or safest, but it was affordable.The only reason I stayed instead of getting a place of my own was for my younger sister, not that I could really afford to live on my own in DC. The city was just too expensive.

Dad was sitting in the living room, watching one of his cop dramas he loved so much, drinking a beer.

“Hey,” I said, carefully. Dad could be moody, so whenever I came home, I had no idea what he’d be like. Ever since Mom died three years ago from lymphoma, he’d used gambling apps to cope, and his addiction had slowly grown to horse races, car races, and slots at the casino in Maryland. If he won, he’d be in a great mood. If he lost a lot of money, he would be pissy.

He looked up and gave me a big smile. While I had his light brown curls, I looked more like my mother had, with her softer features. Dad drank a lot, so he had a swollen gut, while the rest of him was thin.

“Hey, there, Champ.”

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