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.Pablo stared at him, fighting the urge to go after the bastard s neck again.Only withthe knife this time.He d slice him clean from ear to ear and maybe cut out his fuckingtongue this time.That sharp tongue.Shane cocked his head to the side. Hmm.Nothing? No cocky comeback? No threatto skin me alive, pump me full of bullets? His eyes twinkled. Too bad then.I m notleaving until we talk.Pablo grabbed him by the neck and dragged him close. Listen, you son of a bitch, getthe fuck out of my house and my life.You re not welcome. Yeah.No can do. Shane shook his head. You just tried to kill me, with your barehands, J.P.That can t be good for this relationship.Not at all.We need to talk.Pablo gaped at him.Did he just  Did you just call me J.P.? His phone went off asShane peered at him through his lashes, all fake innocence. What? It s your name, isn t it? Juan Pablo?Dude.Pablo itched to shoot his ass.He flicked an irritated glance at the caller ID onhis cell.Syren again.He d been calling all evening and all evening Pablo had beenignoring him.He didn t feel like talking to Syren.Didn t feel like explaining how he gottaken by a federal agent posing as one of York s men. Listen, J.P., this is all intimate and shit, but I m feeling kinda cold. Shane lookeddown at his naked body with a grimace. And bloody.I m going to take a shower andput on some clothes and then we ll talk. The last couple words were a definite threat,but he turned away and hobbled up the stairs before Pablo could react.He could only stare after Shane, his jaw hanging open.What in the hell just happenedand how could he fix it? Like, mad quick? His phone beeped, signaling a new voicemail.Damn Syren.Couldn t he take a fucking hint? He dialed in to his messages and listened.Syren s message was clear and succinct, Pablo better be in a better mood than when theylast saw each other because Syren was on his way over to check up on him.Oh and hewas bringing liquor.Well okay then.Maybe Syren could help talk him off the fucking ledge he d beenstraddling all evening.If not, he could drown in the booze.Win fucking win.He stalked out the house, ignoring the running shower upstairs, and sat in his car,waiting for Syren.When had this happened? A federal agent occupied his house andrefused to leave.Talk.He scoffed in the confines of his car.What more was left to say? The man he allowedunder his defenses wasn t who Pablo thought he was.The pain of that, the anger, drovehim out of his mind and he nearly killed Shane with his bare hands.He d never been that out of control.That weak.He couldn t talk to Shane.He didn t want to hear the words Pablo had ripped fromhis throat.They weren t real.Couldn t be.That can t be good for this relationship.Relationship.Is that what they had, a relationship? Pablo with his killing hands andShane with a fake name and even faker eyes.Nothing between us was fake.Yeah, that s what you think, pretty boy.Nothing could be real with a fake identity.Andthe bastard had the idea he d be wrong and strong.Holing up in Pablo s house like hebelonged.Pablo had to get him out and fast, no way would he allow Shane to think therewas anything between them but the memories of the few stolen nights they d had thusfar.He needed to drive that message home.They were nothing.They had nothing.Syren chose that moment to pull up in a slick black town car, complete with auniformed driver.Yep.Perfect distraction.* * * * *Shane awoke in darkness.He lifted his head and listened, trying to find the source ofthe noise that woke him.He hadn t intended to fall asleep, but his body couldn t keepup.When he d gone downstairs earlier to get clothes out of his duffle bag he d known hewas alone in the house.Coward couldn t even face him.He swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth and winced.His throat hurt.It was all stillsurreal to him.He could ve died by the hands of his lover tonight.I m not walking away.They needed to talk and clear the air and he wasn t leaving until they did.The muted sound reached his ears again.He jerked upright and turned on the light.The sound was definitely coming from downstairs.The clock on the wall read a little pastmidnight.Damn, he d only put his head down an hour ago.Shane crept out of bed and the room, cursing his lack of protection [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]