Page 7 of Filthy Little Fix

I have a horrible feeling that my already complicated life is about to get a lot stranger.

"Who are you working for?" I demand, trying to keep my voice steady, even though I feel like I'm about to explode. "The Malakovs? Did they send you to leak my family's information?"

"I've worked for them before," Nyx says, calmly, almostteasingly. "But that's all. Everyone works for everyone these days, mister… ?"

My jaw tightens. He is playing games. "Youdareto ask my name? You're inmywarehouse, tied up, and you think you can askmequestions?"

"It's only fair I get to know who's in charge." His eyes drop, just for a second, to his pants. Thatthingis still there, undeniable, a pulsing testament to whatever was wrong with him.

I glance at Luca, who's just as confused.

"Take it out of me," Nyx's voice drops to a whisper that makes my skin crawl. "Come on, make me talk. I dare you."

He wants me to get violent. He's practicallybeggingfor it. And a part of me, the part that deals withtrashlike him every day, wants to give himexactlywhat he asked for. I have to remind myself that this is just a job.This is just a job.

Luca's grip on Nyx's hair tightens automatically, pulling his head back even further. Nyx's moan is airy this time, a long drawn-out sound that sounds more like pleasure than pain. He's not normal.

I step closer, my shadow falling over his pale face. "So, Nyx. You like to play games." I reach out, tracing the sharp line of his jaw. He shivers, and a subtle tremor runs through his body. Not from fear. I know that much. This is something else entirely. "Let's see if you're so brave when the stakes are real."

My hand trails down his neck, and I dig my fingers into the flesh below his ear. He gasps, exposing more of his throat, practicallyinvitingme.

This infuriates me. He's making it too easy.

"Who are you protecting?" I demand, pressing my thumb hard against a pulse point. His heartbeat hammers under my skin, fast and erratic. "Tell me about the Malakovs. Every single detail."

Nyx lets out a soft sound, a low hum that vibrates through my fingertips. It's a sound of effort. This is not the response I want,this is making himsing. And it's starting to piss me off even more.

"I told you," he whispers, his voice strained yet still holding that taunting edge. "Everyone works for everyone. There's nothing to tell that you don't already know."

I repeat to myself.Just a fucking job.

"You're lying." My grip around his throat tightens, and he lets out a hiss of breath.

"You're choking me," he says. "Do it harder. Just a bit more."

Enough.

My fist moves of its own accord. The next thing I know, my knuckles hit the sharp corner of his jaw. A dull thud. A loud grunt.

Nyx's head whips to the side as Luca loses his grip.

"That's better." He spits blood onto the concrete floor. His words are slurred now, and I can see the imprints of my fingers already forming on his neck.

"Fuck, youareinsane," Luca murmurs.

I ignore him, watching Nyx closely. "What do you gain from protecting the Malakovs, huh?"

"I'm not protecting anyone," he says.

I look down.Itis still there, pressing against the fabric of his pants, unashamed.

"Don't test me, Nyx. Don't you dare fucking test me."

I step on it.

The crunch is sickening. A wet, tearing sound, muffled by denim. He gasps. Not a moan this time, not a tease, but a sharp, ragged inhalation of agony. He doubles over, folding in on himself, hiding his face from me, but I hear it—a strangled, high-pitched noise, like a trapped animal.

Finally.