Page 2 of Slay Tricksters and Silent Skeletons
“You’ll be part of my security,” Rico told me. “How old are you?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Seventeen? Eighteen? I don’t have a birth certificate. I was found beside some back-alley dumpster when I was a baby.”
“Where is your mother?” Rico asked, frowning now.
I shrugged again. “I don’t know that either.”
He hummed, and silence filled the car. I didn’t open my mouth again, not wanting to piss off Rico and make him decide to put a bullet in my skull instead of offering me something halfway decent. This was more than I could ever ask for. And even though he hadn’t given me any choice in the matter, I was grateful to him anyway.
When we gotto Rico’s huge home, I gaped and actually choked on my own spit. Rico ignored my dramatics and pushed open his door before standing aside, gesturing for me to get out and get a move on. I scrambled out of the car, watching as a handsome Asian man stepped outside dressed in black slacks, a blackbutton down, and shoes so shiny, I could see the reflection of the sky on them.
“I assume things went well?” the man asked.
Rico nodded, then pushed me toward him. “Niran, this is Bento.” I’d been forced to give my name on the ride over. “He’s seventeen or eighteen. No one knows, not even him. No family. He’s our newest security guard. Train him well, but take today to get him fed and settled in.”
Niran took me in with cold, empty eyes, then nodded once. Reaching out, he gripped my shoulder and steered me up the steps and into the huge, beautiful home. Everything was sparkling clean and tastefully decorated.Everyoneknew who Rico Martinez was, and they also knew just how rich and powerful he was.
But holy fuck, I hadn’t known he wasreallyrolling in the dough. Not like this.
“What is your last name?” Niran asked me.
“Perez,” I answered, still looking around the place in dumb-struck awe. “Does Rico live here by himself?”
“No,” Niran answered, leading me into the kitchen. “His security guards are here, as well as his most trusted friends. You’ll see Alfonzo around quite a bit.” Releasing me, he pointed to a stool at the island in the center of the kitchen. “Sit. I’ll bring you something to eat.”
With that, he turned away from me and began digging through the fridge, pulling out the ingredients for a sandwich. He moved like a dancer—light, quick, and silent. Sosilent. And even thoughhe was cold and standoffish, there was something about him that immediately drew me in.
I just really, really hoped I didn’t end up developing a crush on my fucking boss. That would just be fuckinggreat—not. I was as gay as they came, and I, unfortunately, was a goddamn master at forming stupidly quick attachments to people.
Thank you, abandonment issues. Never fucking let me down.
“Eat,” Niran ordered, setting a plate in front of me with two sandwiches. He grabbed a water bottle out of the fridge next, setting that beside the plate. “After you eat, I’ll take you to your new quarters. You’ll shower, and there will already be training clothes waiting for you, which is what you will wear until I find time to sit down and order clothes and shoes for you.”
I nodded, too busy scarfing down my sandwich to verbally answer him. Niran leaned against the counter opposite me and pulled out his phone, typing rapidly on the expensive device.
Yeah… I was going to grow a crush on him. I could already sense it.
Fuck me. At this point, I was just a recipe for disaster.
1
Niran
TEN YEARS LATER
Whiskey was easier to swallow than the knowledge that I couldneverhave the one person in this fucking world I was obsessed with.
He wasalwaysthere. Always around. His scentsuffocatedme, but fuck, I never wanted to breathe again if it meant I got to inhale his intoxicating scent for the rest of my existence.
Bento Perez had been dropped into my hands as a mere young adult in need of a home. I’d been instructed to train him, toughen him up, and turn him into a cold-blooded soldier. And I’d accomplished that despite the fact that I had to have a drink before and after every planned interaction with him. Because that boy just had a fucking way of looking at me that drove memadwith desire for him.
I wasn’t capable of basic, normal human emotions. Love? Didn’t know what that was. Empathy? Didn’t have it. Remorse? Laughable idea. Butobsession? Obsession forhim? Fuck, I had that in spades.
But I couldn’t fucking touch him, goddammit it. Which was why I was sitting in my office pouring myself a drink while I waited on him to show up for his daily check-in with me. As the personal bodyguard to my boss’s husband, his schedule didn’t operate like ours. His life revolved around Anurak, and only when Anurak was with Rico, who was my boss, did Bento get to do his daily check-ins with me and get some training in.
Which meant when he did finally show up, he’d be wearing one of those tight fucking t-shirts that emphasized his bulging muscles and sweatpants that did nothing to hide the bulge of his dick. Normal security guards wore grey sweats and a gray shirt to train, but after two weeks of watching Bento train in those, I’d given him black sweats, thinking it’d help distract me from his dick imprint.
It fucking hadn’t.
