Page 46 of Stop and Seek (Our Childish Games #1)

Why wouldn’t the inside of Noah’s hotel be nice?

Nice nice.

The whole place smelled like detergent and disinfectant. Covers perfectly lined up. Pillows fluffed. There was even a plate of snacks laid out on the end table—cheese, crackers, and some kind of cured meat that made Theo’s mouth water.

Another place he didn’t belong.

At this point, he was getting used to feeling like a fish out of water.

Theo sat on the edge of the bed, hunched forward, hands clutched tight between his knees.

The monitor glowed in front of him, casting cold blue light over the comforter and his skin. The image flickered as Andrew strolled across the screen. Coffee in hand.

Oblivious.

Theo hadn’t seen him in… forever. Same dumb backwards baseball cap.

Same latte order, probably. Tattoos still bright and obnoxious, trailing down his arms like scribbles he never outgrew.

The sight of him made Theo’s stomach twist. Septum ring glinting in the late summer sun. Pants too tight, as usual .

Before Jagger’s idiotic threesome idea, the two of them had been friends. College friends. Normal. Fucking. Friends. Andrew had been Theo’s first real conversation since high school.

Now, seeing him made Theo want to throw something. Or cry. Whichever.

Noah was sprawled beside him—bare legs brushing Theo’s, shiny basketball shorts making a soft swoosh each time he moved. Distracting as shit.

“Hey,” Theo said. “Weird question."

Noah’s eyes never left his phone. “Equally weird answer.”

Theo looked from the monitor to the row of spotless notebooks lined up by the television. Every one of them was labeled. Dated. Pinned with color-coded flags and weird, cutesy writing.

“What the hell do you do for work? I’ve been in Best Buys less organized than this.”

Noah rolled onto one elbow and set the phone on the end table.

“Okay, so. Technically, I’m a Collector.”

Theo snorted. “Cult, much?”

“It’s not a…” Noah trailed off. “Alright, yeah. Yeah. Maybe it is cult- ish . Long story short, I track people down. What can I say? I’m good with patterns.”

“Then what?”

“I hand them over to whatever department wants them—”

“Department?”

“Yeah,” Noah continued. Unbothered. “Sometimes it’s Development, sometimes it’s Asset Resolution… depends on who and what.”

The words started out sane and then veered off into what the fuck territory.

Theo stared. “Who do you work for, exactly?”

Noah sat up. Pulled Theo into his lap, arms sliding around his waist. He pressed a soft kiss to the back of Theo’s head—then another, lower, where Theo’s hair curled near his neck.

“Max’s uncle signs my checks, but she’s my boss.”

“Max.”

“Same one you’re picturing right now.”

That didn’t help. Not even a little.

Theo exhaled through his nose. He didn’t ask anything else.

Didn’t want to.

The more Noah said, the less any of it sounded real. The Sterlings owned all of Eunice, yeah, but Development? Asset Resolution? Collector? It sounded like some dystopian bullshit from a video game.

Maybe that was the safest way to keep thinking about it.

It took half an hour for Noah to lay all the gear on the desk.

Not in a messy, serial killer way—no blood-stained rags or rusty bone saws, sadly—but in a clean, almost sterile lineup. Everything had a place. Latex gloves folded. A burner phone still in its packaging. Zip ties stacked beside a slim black flashlight. Duct tape, scissors—

Noah’s go bag was fucking endless. Things kept coming. One after the other.

Kinda hot.

“Can you go through everything?” Theo asked, still perched on the edge of the bed.

Noah glanced up from where he was checking the flashlight batteries. “What?”

“Out loud. Step-by-step.”

That earned him another grin. “This is a flashlight . You shine it in the dark to see shit—”

“Don’t be an asshole,” Theo mumbled, but even he had to laugh.

Noah gestured at the desk like he was hosting a how-to crime tutorial. “Let’s see. Gloves first. You need gloves. No prints, no accidental DNA. Double-layer is best, so that’s what you’ll have on.”

Theo’s pulse ticked up. Fast. It had nothing to do with fear.

“Just me?” he asked. “Why not you?”

“Because I already have full clearance stateside. The Sterlings don’t know you exist and I plan on keeping it that way.”

Not opening that can of worms.

Noah tapped the burner. “I got a work phone. You’ll leave your cell here. If shit happens or we get separated, you call the number saved. No one else.”

The duct tape came next. “I don’t think I need to explain this. Mouths. Doors. Really good for windows, too. Keeps ‘em shut tight.”

Theo licked his lips. He could feel it again—that low burn in his gut. It wasn’t the same as his kinks, didn’t make him giddy and light-headed. This kind made every nerve light on fire. Made his dick so damn hard it hurt.

“What about uh,” he paused. Swallowed. His throat was dry. “Weapons? Guns or knives or..?”

Noah blanched. He turned toward the desk, hands hovering over the items before they dropped to his sides. “I don’t really… do weapons.”

“You’re kidding.”

“It wasn’t in my job description. I can’t shoot to save my life. I’ve done the classes, watched a lot of YouTube videos, but I flinch every time I pull the trigger. And knives are—I dunno—they freak me the fuck out.”

Theo stood, adjusting himself with a quiet curse. “Noah. You killed Jagger. We are literally going to ‘deal with’ Andrew. Tell me you see the issue here.”

Turning back around, Noah was all smiles again.

“Most of the time, I don’t need to hurt anyone. That’s the whole point of what I do. Get in. Get out. Get paid.”

Theo ran his hands through his hair. Something about that answer pissed him off. Or maybe it made him feel too eager. Too hot over nothing. He closed the gap between them and fisted one hand in Noah’s shirt.

Then Theo dragged them both to the bed. Waited until Noah crawled on top of him. Noah’s hips slotted against his, weight pressing down until Theo could barely suppress the groan.

Still, his voice came out steady. “What do you have in your car?”

“Emergency-type?”

“Shit that could be used,” Theo said, fingers shaking as he unbuttoned his pants. “To hurt someone.”

Noah’s eyes dropped. Eyebrows scrunched.

“Uh… there’s another pair of scissors in the glove compartment, I think. There should be a tire iron and crowbar in my trunk.”

What did a tire iron look like again?

No.

Not that.

What about a crowbar?

Theo pictured it instantly—cold steel, chipped paint, the sharp V-tip catching bone if he aimed right. Light enough to swing. Heavy enough to crush if he used both hands.

His breath stuttered, caught somewhere behind his teeth.

How easily it could tear through muscle. The wet sound of it slamming into someone’s shin or skull. The screaming. No words, only noise—splattered and choked. He imagined what it’d feel like to pull it back with something stuck to the end.

Something soft. Human.

He hadn’t realized he’d said anything until he felt his mouth move.

Until Noah leaned down, lips warm against his cheek.

“Tell me what you’re thinking about, baby.”

“I want to know how it’ll feel,” Theo whispered.

Noah didn’t pull back like Theo expected. Instead of recoiling, his tongue traced a line across Theo’s skin, down his neck. “Keep talking.”

Theo’s thighs tensed under Noah’s weight, hips tilting up. “When it connects,” he said. “I want to know what that’s like. ”

Noah’s voice was quiet. Careful. “Which?”

“Crow… crowbar. I wanna know how it sounds when it hits someone. The noise of—of bone, or cartilage. Maybe teeth. Is it loud?”

No answer. Noah stilled, one hand pressed into the mattress by Theo’s head.

“I wanna watch it land,” Theo continued, shakier now. “I want to know what it’s like when the pain is so sudden they don’t scream right away. They just… look. And wonder, why me? What did I do to deserve this? ”

He turned his head slightly. “You think I’m fucked up yet?”

“No.” Noah didn’t hesitate. “I think you’re trying to figure out what stops you from hurting. Whatever it is, I’m gonna be here the whole time.”

Theo’s eyes burned.

He blinked hard. Once. Twice. Didn’t help.

No.

Crying during sex was corny as hell.

That wasn’t happening.

He was not going to start bawling.

So instead, he grabbed Noah’s face and kissed him—sloppy, brutal. Teeth dragging across each other until his lip split and blood slicked the kiss. The taste hit Theo’s tongue like lightning. Copper. Salt. Him.

Them.

Not enough.

He wanted more. Wanted to drown in it. Wanted to bite down and suck until his mouth overflowed with red. Didn’t care whose .

His voice cracked: “I want to feel it now.”

Noah pulled back to breathe, his brow furrowed.

Not understanding. Not yet.

Theo shoved his pants down to his thighs. “Just—fuck, move. ”

That was all it took.

Noah was already pushing his shorts off. He sat up enough to get Theo’s pants and boxers down, yanking them over his hips and leaving them tangled around one ankle.

Theo twisted under him, frantic, hauling Noah closer so their skin met, so every inch of contact sparked. His cock ached, leaking against the scratchy, horrendous turtleneck. All he could picture was blood. Bone. That goddamn crowbar embedded in Andrew’s spine.

He wanted to feel split open by something.

He bit down on Noah’s shoulder as he rocked up, breath hitching.

“We’re leaving after this, right?” he whispered against skin.

“Yeah,” Noah breathed. “Whatever you want, baby.”

“I want your cum in me when I take out his legs. When he tries to crawl away.”

Noah moaned like it turned him on, too. Maybe he was just that far gone.

Maybe they both were.

Noah’s hand came down between them, spit-slick. Then his cock pushed in—trembling like he couldn’t control himself, like he wanted to worship him.

Theo didn’t want worship.

He needed ruin.

The stretch burned, all friction, zero lube, but Theo didn’t stop it. Didn’t want to stop it. He wanted it to hurt. Wanted the soreness. The sting. The reminder later, when he couldn’t walk straight, that this had meant something.

Noah buried himself to the hilt and froze, breath ragged against Theo’s throat.

Theo didn’t give him time to savor it.

He twisted his head until their mouths collided again—wet and violent, teeth-first—and raked his nails down Noah’s spine until he whimpered.

“I want you right beside me,” he murmured, panting against Noah’s lips. “When I’m swinging. Over and over. Blood on me. On you.”

Noah’s rhythm stuttered, dick twitching inside him. “ Jesus , Theo—”

“I—I wanna break his ribs, one at a time. Puncture his lungs.”

Noah let out a broken moan, hips slamming harder now. The sound of skin on skin filled the room—louder than it should have been, obscene as fuck. Theo clung to him like a vice, digging in everywhere he could reach.

“He’ll beg,” Theo gasped, one leg wrapped tight around Noah’s waist. “Not with words. With— with sound. Just those awful noises people make when they know they’re gonna die. I’ll keep going until they have to ID him off his stupid tattoos.”

Noah’s thrusts turned erratic. He was close. Too close.

Theo squeezed his thighs tighter. “Don’t come yet. Fuck—Noah, please. Please not yet.”

“Shit—okay—okay—”

“Y- you wanted to know what I was thinking about. So wait until I finish. I… I want his jaw dislocated. Chest caved in. Brains—god, Noah, his fucking brains on the floor. ”

One of them let out a desperate, strangled sob, and Theo wasn’t sure if it came from his throat or Noah’s mouth.

Theo’s cock rubbed between their shirts. Slick. Painful. His nerves were frayed wires, pain-pleasure igniting with every snap of Noah’s hips. He was going to come like this. Just from the pressure and the power coiled in his gut.

“I wanna watch him die,” Theo said, even quieter now. “Because he deserves it. I’m so sick of letting people walk all over me and leave.”

That did it.

He came hard, back arching, throat tight. No warning. Only the crash of everything he’d been holding back—months, years, decades of wanting to hurt someone and finally letting himself want it.

His body shook beneath Noah, vision swimming.

And still, he whispered one last thing:

“I want you to clean me up with your mouth after.”

Noah made an animal sound—half growl, half apology—and came inside him, buried deep, holding him like he might fall apart if he let go.

And maybe he would.

Because Theo didn’t just want to hurt Andrew anymore.

He wanted to hurt every single person that ever hurt him.