Page 13 of Slay Tricksters and Silent Skeletons
“Done,” he said coolly. “I’ll make the phone call.”
11
Bento
Ipushed my blankets back, gritting my teeth against the pain that flared through every single one of my muscles. Niran looked up from his tablet when I did, and he quickly set the device aside, pushing to his feet. I waved him off, but in true Niran fashion, he ignored me, moving to help me sit up and swing my legs to the side of the bed. Andfuck, the effort doing just that took, even with help, left me breathing harshly. Felt like I’d run a damn marathon.
“Going to hold my dick too while I piss?” I griped, now in a foul mood. I washurting, and pain always made me pissy and hard to deal with.
Niran arched a brow at me. “I will if you push me,” he warned.
I huffed a breath through my nose that was a mix of annoyance and amusement. Gritting my teeth again, I allowed Niran to help me stand. I wanted to do it on my own, but that beating I’d taken had done a number on me. My ribs were bruised, as wasmy stomach, making it hard to use my abdominal muscles. And I never realized how important my abdomen was until I had to do basic things like sitting up, rolling over, or even walking.
The short walk to the bathroom felt like it took fuckinghours. I hadn’t been on my feet yet since I’d woken up. If I was going to be expected to get up and move around, these doctors were going to need to give me something stronger. Every step wasagonyon my abused abdomen.
“That doctor needs to give me something stronger,” I panted, slumping against the doorway to the bathroom. A light sheen of sweat coated my forehead, and I reached up to wipe it away, wincing when I brushed against some of my head wounds. “My ribs aren’t fucking broken?”
“No,” Niran confirmed. “Badly bruised but not broken.” He reached up and gripped the back of my neck, massaging the tense muscles there until my shoulders drooped a little. “You’ve got this, Bento. And just think, you’ll be released later today, and Rico can give you something stronger than what the doctor is giving you.”
That was true. Rico kept a stash of drugs of all varieties for all of his employees. We never had to visit a doctor unless it was something serious and what we were taking at home wasn’t helping. If we were sick, he had stashes of Z-packs, amoxicillin, and every other anti-bacterial drug under the sun. In pain? He had everything from Motrin to Norcos. Hell, Rico even had ADHD meds for some of the guys who had been diagnosed but never had access to the meds. Now, they never had to worry about it.
Rico was a hardass and a bit of a dick, but he took care of all of us.
Grunting, I moved away from the wall and to the toilet. Niran let me be, turning his back to me to give me some privacy, though he didn’t leave the bathroom. I took it for the small win it was and quickly worked on emptying my bladder. When he heard me flush the toilet, he turned to face me again, his eyes keen as I slowly made my way to the sink to wash my hands.
I grimaced when I looked up into the mirror and saw my reflection. My face was bruised, my eyes swollen. The blood vessels in the corner of my right eye had burst, leaving the white of my eye coated in red. Cuts, some deep and others shallow, littered my jaw, cheeks, chin, and forehead.
Niran pressed in behind me and rested his chin on my good shoulder, his dark eyes steely as they met mine in the mirror. His hands slid around my waist until his arms twined around my torso. My stomach flipped at the possessive gesture.
“They’re going to pay for doing this to you,” he quietly promised.
“Aren’t they already dead?” I questioned, a frown tugging at my split, dry lips. I honestly didn’t remember much after I was shot. I vaguely remembered Niran catching me, but even that was super faint.
Niran shrugged. “The guards are, yes. The two men in charge? No. They’re at Rico’s in the basement waiting on me to come home.” He turned his head and pressed a kiss to my throat, right over a cut there. I couldn’t fight back the shiver even if I tried. “I’m going to torture every bit of information out of them before I slaughter them like fucking pigs,” he swore. “They took you from me,kon-dii, andno onegets to do that and live to tell the fucking tale.”
A shiver rolled down my spine at the deadly undertone in his words. When I turned to face him, he let me, though he didn’t release me from his hold. I leaned heavily against the sink, my brows furrowing. “Rico doesn’t want them for going after Anurak?”
Niran’s smirk was cold and calculating. “Oh, he does,kon-dii, but it wasn’t his man that got kidnapped. It wasmine, and Rico knows that even if he is my boss, he’d be crossing a line by taking these two kills away from me.”
It still felt surreal to hear Niran call me his after so long of wanting to hear it. After ten long fucking years of wanting to belong to him.
“You’re mine, too,” I told him, my hands coming up to rest on his narrow hips. “Make no mistake about that, Niran.”
He leaned in and pressed his lips to the corner of mine. My cock jerked beneath my hospital gown.
“I expected nothing less,kon-dii,” he murmured.
12
Niran
Bento slowly lifted his head from the window, blinking blearily at the ceiling as he tried his best to wake up. Rico had pain meds delivered for Bento to take before he was discharged from the hospital, and they’d promptly knocked him the fuck out. Once I’d gotten him in the SUV, he’d been out like a light, soft snores leaving his lips. He didn’t even budge when I’d had to slam on the breaks because some asshole pulled out in front of me like they couldn’t see this seven-thousand-pound vehicle barreling in their direction.
I swore America handed out driver’s licenses like grandparents gave candy to little kids.
“Welcome back to the land of the living,” I told him as I eased the vehicle to a stop inside the massive garage. Switching off the ignition, I looked over at him. “Stay there until I come around to help you out.” I feared if he tried getting out on his own, he’d fall and bust his face open worse than it already was. With his injuries, he could hardly walk as it was. Add in whatever the fuckRico had him on and Bento was damn near incapable of doing a damn thing on his own.
Bento grunted and reached across him, fumbling with the seatbelt latch. “I can get out on my own,” he muttered, his words heavily slurred. Whatever Rico had given him had obviously been some good shit. Bento was completely out of it. When he sobered up some, he probably wouldn’t even remember how he got home.
