Page 3 of Deranged (Killers Inc. #3)

After a night of staring at the ceiling, Henry immediately started his day by going in search of Field while trying to look as if he simply did rounds.

Henry had to know why everyone fought so hard to keep the guy sane and safe when he obviously needed to be put down.

He found Field in Kylo’s dance studio with Kylo, Rain, and Shadow.

Shadow scrambled onto Field’s back like a monkey and held on while Field spun in a fast circle before tossing him onto a stack of fluffy tumble mats. Everyone laughed uproariously. Field wore a huge grin.

Rain jumped up and down, clapping. “My turn. My turn.”

Henry shook his head and moved along. It had to hurt like hell to have people climbing on him after taking that beating. Field looked like he couldn’t be happier. He was such a mystery to Henry.

Two hours later, Henry found Field chatting with Beau.

Beau had tears streaming down his face from laughing.

That stopped Henry in his tracks. He had never seen Beau laugh like that.

A terrible feeling grew in Henry’s gut. He kept seeking out Field throughout the day.

At some point during the day, Field saw everyone and made them laugh and smile.

Henry couldn’t stop rubbing his chest. Field ended his day in the backyard with Mickey.

They sat shoulder to shoulder on the edge of the patio, staring up at the sky.

Henry couldn’t hear what was said, but it was obvious Field was calmer with Mickey.

No fake smiles or laughing. This was the real him.

He pointed at the sky in different spots.

Henry sat on a patio chair in the shadows and watched.

They were genuine friends. Something that felt a lot like loneliness grew in Henry’s chest. No one caught sight of him.

Finally, Mickey stood and squeezed Field’s shoulder before heading inside. He didn’t look Henry’s way, proving Henry had kept his presence hidden.

With Mickey gone, Field stood. He shoved his hands in his pockets and walked into the yard.

He turned his chin up and stared at the sky.

After a minute, he sat before falling backward onto his back.

Henry watched him roll to the side for a moment and pull a gun from its holster.

He went back to gazing at the sky. Here it was—the answer Henry sought.

Field had spent the day giving everyone a happy goodbye.

The guy was done. When the gun lifted, Henry stood and made himself known as he moved to stand over Field.

“If you get brains all over Beau’s lawn, he’ll be very unhappy.”

A bright smile lit Field’s face. He made a wild motion with the gun before setting it aside.

“It was stabbing me in the back. When I decide to go, it won’t be here where my brothers can find me.

I won’t traumatize them any more than they’ve already been.

When I’m done, I’ll just walk away and go where I’ll never be found.

They’ll wonder if I’m alive out there somewhere while likely knowing in their hearts that’s not true.

But they’ll have hope that I found happiness, and it’ll be true. ”

Fuck. He had a plan. Likely, he already knew exactly where he would go. “What were you showing Mickey?”

“How to always find his way by following the stars. You know we’re not just trained to kill, right? We all have extremely high IQs and speak several languages. All that is needed to fit in anywhere we were sent.”

“Smooth way to brag.”

Field chuckled. “You’re one to talk. I recall you telling me several times that I can’t handle you.”

The world flipped. Henry didn’t have time to panic or stop it from happening. Before he hit the ground, Field caught him and broke his fall. In one smooth move, Field had him on his back and tossed one leg over Henry, straddling him. Their faces were inches apart.

“You can add crazy to my resume.”

Henry clicked off the safety of the gun he held against Field’s head. “Same.”

Field’s smile grew. “Do it.”

They held each other’s stare, waiting for the other to blink.

Henry had no clue who moved first. Their mouths met.

The gun dropped from Henry’s fingers. He grabbed Field’s hair and held on.

Their kiss was all hunger. Henry’s body was on fire.

It was the first time they had ever kissed.

It seemed odd to know how Field’s mouth felt on his cock and not know the taste of his tongue. He bit Field’s bottom lip and sucked.

“Fuck yeah. Hurt me.”

Field’s growled words calmed him. He didn’t know it yet, but Field didn’t need more pain.

Field needed something he had never been given.

“Be ready for me in an hour.” He rolled, dumping Field in the grass.

Henry stole another kiss before popping to his feet.

He would take a risk. One was long overdue.

A small part of Field considered not letting Henry in. He had been hanging by a thread for a while now. A night with Henry might be the thing that finally snipped that final string. Unfortunately, he was a masochist. He would let Henry wreck him. Field didn’t know any other way to be.

There was no more avoiding things. He couldn’t hide in the shower all night.

Field shut down the water and shook out his hair like a dog.

It was getting shaggy. He needed to ask Crisp to trim it for him.

Field didn’t trust anyone but his brothers that close to him with scissors.

Crisp was the only one who knew how to cut hair.

Field grabbed the towel off its hook and swung open the fogged over door of the wet room.

Henry stood, leaning against the frame of the bathroom doorway with his arms crossed over his massive chest. He was shirtless and barefoot, with the button on his jeans already undone.

Field couldn’t stop the way his eyes inspected the dark line of hair that ran down his stomach and disappeared inside his jeans.

The bright light inside the bathroom shimmered on Henry’s hair, highlighting the gray threading through it and his beard.

Damn. He really made Field’s mouth water.

Henry straightened and pulled a satin-looking piece of material from his back pocket. “Come on. I need to get this around your wrists.”

Field was a little glad he held a towel that hid his junk. He wasn’t embarrassed. Field simply didn’t like the idea of Henry knowing how quickly that one statement got him hard. Without a word, he headed for the bedroom, ready to obey.

Henry tossed the binding on the bed and took away Field’s towel.

He dried Field’s skin. While he did, Field studied his features.

He didn’t have laugh lines around his eyes.

At his age, that definitely said how little he smiled.

Maybe he got Botox, but Field doubted it.

Henry didn’t seem like the type to care if he caught anyone’s eye or stayed young beyond needing to be strong for Beau’s sake.

Field wondered if the guy cared about anything.

He knew Henry was in love with Mickey, but he wasn’t sure it was truly a passionate love.

It felt more like a coveting situation alongside hurt pride from losing Mickey.

He got the impression Henry didn’t feel much of anything positive.

“You’ve not been taking care of these wounds.”

Field didn’t want to talk about that. He shrugged. “Look at me. What’s it matter?”

Henry didn’t respond, proving him correct.

Field already had nothing going for him.

All the ugly scars in the world didn’t change anything now.

They simply blended with the rest. Who knew?

Maybe he would end up with a cool pattern now.

Field had given up looking at himself a long time ago. There was nothing to see.

Henry tossed the towel aside and pointed toward the bed. “On your back.”

Field followed his instructions.

Henry was right behind him. He straddled Field’s body with the material in hand. “Hands above your head. Clasp them. Don’t cross them. I need this long enough and in the perfect position to still be able to flip you.”

Damn. This sounded fun. He wasn’t afraid to hand over control.

It seemed like he should be terrified. Nothing good had ever come from being trapped, but Zeus had taught him the difference when consent was given.

He had handed the control back to Field.

Field knew when to submit now. That was good for his sanity when it was the right person.

He had been around Henry for a while now.

The guy had plenty of opportunities to show an ugly side. He hadn’t. Field would give him a shot.

Henry made sure the knot was tight. He spoke as he worked. “You’re free to stop anytime you want.” His light brown gaze locked on Field’s face. “I’m hoping you don’t, though.”

Field turned ridiculous, the way he always did when things got too serious. “What? Do you think I’m capable of thinking anything is too far? Dude, my mind is gone.”

Henry didn’t smile. He climbed from the bed and gathered some things from the bedside table Field hadn’t noticed. Then he was back, straddling Field’s thighs.

“I don’t like the way you don’t care about yourself.”

Field’s humor died an immediate death. He didn’t like this game.

Henry didn’t stop. “You’re a good person. I watched you a lot today.” His gaze locked on Field’s eyes and held his stare. He looked intense. “Do you know what I saw?”

“No.” The answer sounded like it hurt his throat because it did. No one should look too closely at him.

Henry never looked away, as if he needed Field to see he spoke the truth. “That you’re amazing.”

“No.” This game wasn’t fun. They couldn’t talk about him.

Either Henry took his no as a denial or chose to ignore it because he kept going. “You pour all of yourself into other people and don’t keep any happiness for yourself. Everyone loves being around you, even as you hide how much you don’t love yourself.”

“Please don’t.”