Preston
After getting my glimpse of Shane in person, I understood X’s obsession with him. The man, while older than both of us at thirty-five, was hot as fuck. His light-brown skin seemed to glow under the lights of the tattoo shop, and his tattoos boldly stood out on his skin, even from a distance. And those eyes as he stared between me and X were dark and almost… empty. Like he purposefully hid everything from the world.
X told me he served in some kind of special forces thing that wasn’t known to the rest of the United States. That he took out high-powered politicians across the world, had been known as one of the best operatives and snipers to ever grace the military. But his career ended when he got in a car accident that had nothing to do with the military that fucked up his back, requiring multiple surgeries.
But X, while a sociopath and not all that fit for society, had made me swear to secrecy for Shane’s safety. I’d given it immediately. I knew what could happen to any of us if that information got leaked. Something that top-secret was never meant to be public knowledge, and definitely not known by civilians like me and X.
“Did you make any headway with him?” I asked once our food was delivered to our table.
X shook his head as he squeezed chili sauce on his noodles. He already ordered his food spicy, but the man was of the mindset that if he wasn’t sweating from his food, it wasn’t hot enough. I liked spice in my foods, but not that much. That much spice was just asking for me to be curled up in bed with a cramping stomach and nausea. Besides, how could anyone enjoy their food when it was so hot, it made them sweat? Made zero sense to me.
“He called me out. My fault, I think. I… slipped when I thought he and the receptionist were dating.”
I frowned at him. It was rare that X dropped his mask in public. My man was one-hundred percent a monster—a monster I loved, but still a monster, nonetheless. I’d soothed his rough edges a little bit, but there was no changing who he was at his core. And jealousy was a huge part of his personality. If someone so much as looked at me like they thought I was good-looking, X got territorial.
I loved it, but that didn’t mean it was okay for him to lash out at everyone who found me attractive.
“X…” I said quietly, my tone disapproving.
He grunted. “I know,” he muttered. “But fuck, the mere idea of him with anyone but us makes me… murderous.”
“You’ve got to rein it in, baby,” I gently reminded him. “Shane isn’t me. He’s not going to just let you roll over him and settle into his life.” Which was definitely what X had done to me, but I’d been okay with it. I was just as hooked on X as he’d been hooked on me. Letting him settle into my life and my home had been an easy decision, no matter how quick it’d happened or how little sense it’d made. I’d been alone for so long. Becoming the center of someone’s entire world had been a fucking blessing.
“No shit.” He lifted his eyes from his food to look at me. “You two are polar opposites. There’s something off in his brain, like me.”
I cocked my head to the side the slightest bit. “You think he’s a sociopath?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Not a sociopath, no. More like he… chose to be like this. Or it was trained out of him, maybe. But he’s empty, Preston. Like he’s going through the motions and not really feeling anything.”
“Well, look at what his career was before becoming a tattoo artist,” I reminded him. “I’m sure they don’t just pick any soldier for that kind of career. They no doubt have to show some kind of personality traits to even be considered. You don’t do what he did and come out ‘normal’, baby.”
But I’d noticed what he was talking about, too, and I’d only seen Shane from a distance. And even then, I’d been looking at him through a window. X was right. Shane was empty. Cold. Distant. I wasn’t sure he was entirely human either.
And just like I had with X, I wanted Shane badly. Maybe I had a thing for the emotionally unavailable ones. Or maybe I had a thing for the ones who would put me first and burn the world to fucking ashes just to keep me. A therapist would have a field day with my choice of men. Wasn’t like I’d had a bad childhood. My parents had loved me. Adored me. All my trauma came after I got to college and was caught on camera with another man. My life fell apart then. Still, I didn’t have childhood trauma to fall back on for my own faults.
I was just wired differently, I guessed. Maybe that was why X and I clicked so well.
“He basically told me to never come see him again,” X blurted. I arched a brow at him, a smirk beginning to play on my lips. He chuckled, the sound low and dark. Ominous. “If he thinks he’s getting rid of me that easily, he’s lost his fucking mind for real.”
“So, what’s your plan from here?” I questioned. X had fixated on Shane. There was no deterring him now. He wasn’t stopping until he had what he wanted. And he wanted Shane. And fuck it all to hell, I wanted him, too. So, I certainly wasn’t stopping him.
Call me the fucking enabler.
“Think kidnapping will work?” X asked.
He had to be fucking kidding me.
I shot him a deadpan look. “No,” I deadpanned. “You might be an underground fighter, baby, but Shane’s a fucking soldier. He’ll kick your ass. Don’t even fucking attempt it.”
X sighed. “Worth suggesting.” My lips quirked with an aborted smile. “I’m going to visit him again. To hell with if he likes it or not.”
I hummed, amused. “Good luck, baby.”
He smirked at me. “Who the fuck needs luck?”
I chuckled, then took a bite of my food. “So, what tattoo did you get?” I asked. I knew he hadn’t gone in with any idea. Shane was a damn good free-hand artist, and that was what X had rolled with.
X lifted his shirt right in the middle of the restaurant, revealing bruised skin, tattoos—most done by himself—and abs and a broad chest. I took a moment to admire his body before I laid my eyes on the detailed reaper on his right pec. I whistled low. That was damn good work for free-handing and with how quickly it’d been done.