Violent Angel (Pretty Broken Things #1)

5. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

T wenty whole minutes without Elliot checking the heart monitor once. He clenched his fists in his lap to resist the temptation to feel for Damon’s pulse, only catching himself holding his breath twice to listen for the other man’s.

Small progress, but it was something.

By the time they reached The Inn, the roads were dark, the thick treeline beyond nothing but a wall of solid black. The building itself had once been called ‘l’Auberge au Campagne’, a five story stone structure close to mountains and lakes, meant for experiencing the countryside in style.

Gerard bought it like he did everything else—at a steal after it was seized in a major mob takedown. The closest neighbor was two miles away, making it perfect for Eros’ Eight and the trainers and handlers from Nexus who watched over them. A few walls knocked down and everyone had their own loft-stylecondo, the dining hall was converted into a huge exercise room, and the kitchen repurposed to store a surplus of weapons for those…extra special missions.

Only the spa remained untouched, which Elliot didn’t fully understand. But he’d been outvoted when he suggested turning it into a torture chamber.

No big deal, though. He was pretty good at improvising, and any room could become a torture chamber with a bit of creativity.

Waterboarding in a hot tub has to be a thing, right?

The van pulled into the underground parking that’d been added only last year, with all the guys pitching in to pay for the renovations. Other changes had been made since Elliot had moved out with Lux two years ago, but this was the most practical. Parking in the back in the middle of the night when the snow piled up was a pain in the ass, nevermind if there was a captive to be drilled for intel, a body to be disposed of, or bullet holes and blood to clean up.

Since Elliot spoke more languages than all the other guys—except for French, which he was still working on—he spent a lot of his time overseas, using the various safehouses for whatever came after missions and before debriefing. Being back at The Inn and promising Gerard to take whatever job was thrown his way made staying here practical, even without Damon’s presence.

But if Damon hadn’t been here, Elliot doubted all of Eros’ Eight currently not on assignment would be rushing out of the elevator to meet them.

Nosy fuckers.

Surrounding the van while Elliot and Virgil unloaded the gurney, the four men wore expressions varying from open curiosity, to a healthy dose of suspicion.

Parker was full on the latter, having trained with Elliot in his teens under Gerard himself. Black hair bound in a tight elastic, dressed in a gray tank and matching jogging pants, showing off his golden tan from his last mission in Miami—and the evil lollipop tattoo on his forearm he’d gotten in shit for—he stood back a little, jutting his chin in greeting before narrowing his light brown eyes at Damon.

Close to Parker—but not too close—Tig snapped a picture of Damon’s face with his phone, disappearing under the hood of his oversized, burnt orange hoodie as he presumably began a background check. Tig tended to switch between complete silence, and erratic bursts of whatever was going on in his overactive brain.

Right now, Elliot was grateful for the silence.

Because he wouldn’t be getting it from the other two.

Already right by the gurney next to Lux, Hart hugged Elliot’s little brother, his deep blue eyes full of sympathy. His shaggy blond hair made him look a bit like a golden retriever, which fit with his adorable let’s-be-best-friends-forever vibe.

No one who didn’t know him could guess he’d spent his teen years in prison, tried as an adult at thirteen for killing his father and all his uncles.

He’d gotten off with a pretty light sentence because of the abuse he’d endured, but the best lawyer in the world couldn’t have reduced it to less than ten years. Not when he’d drugged them all and drowned them in a neighbor’s swimming pool.

Where they’d stayed until the neighbor got back from vacation.

Three months later.

“I know you don’t like us touching your stuff, Elliot, but the doctor needed a room to set up for surgery.” Hart tucked his hands in the pockets of his baggy, acid wash jeans, his snug, pink My Little Pony T-shirt riding up to reveal the diamonds glinting in his belly ring. The jewelry was a gift from a mark he’d worked for over a year before drowning him in a hot tub. That was kinda his thing. “Parker moved everything out of your old game room. Me and Gael fetched all the equipment Dr. Kwan needed. Winter’s watching him.”

Elliot’s brows lifted. “Not sure which is more fucked up. You leaving my place how it was after I moved out, or Winter being chosen as the babysitter. What if he gets hungry?”

At the other side of the gurney, wearing only a pair of red silk pajama pants, Gael lifted the gray blanket covering Damon to take a peek at his crotch. He snickered at Elliot’s last words. “Winter might burn him alive, but he wouldn’t eat him.”

“You can’t know that for sure, you’re just hoping because you wanna fuck him.” Parker folded his arms over his chest. “He bit three guys’ ears off in prison. Nowhere in his file does it say whether or not he swallowed after.”

Gael wiggled his brows, dyed blue to match his once cornsilk blond hair, and smirked at Parker. “I sure hope he swallows. That mouth…” He reached out to brush a finger over Damon’s lips. “This one’s got a nice one, too. I wouldn’t mind—”

Grabbing Gael’s finger, Elliot twisted it around, forcing the man to his knees and putting just enough pressure to remind him he could—and would —break it. “Hands off.” At Gael’s whimpered apology, he released him. “Is the room ready? The doc who stabilized Damon wasn’t sure he’d survive the flight. He did, but I won’t test our luck.”

“It’s ready.” Parker waved them toward the elevator. “Lux said this guy saved his life?”

Elliot nodded.

And Parker inclined his head. “Then he’ll survive surgery, or I’ll make Dr. Kwan regret not living up to his reputation. No charge.”

“Thanks.” Elliot took over pushing the gurney from Virgil. The elevator was a decent size, but not big enough for all of them—especially not his handler’s husband, who towered over even Parker’s slender 5’8. Holding the elevator door open with his foot, Elliot caught Virgil’s eye. “You probably want to go meet up with Gerard. I appreciate you coming with, but I’ve got it from here.”

Virgil hesitated, glancing over to where Lux and Hart were comforting Gael. “Do you think you can manage without killing one another?”

“Why wouldn’t we?” Parker’s expression went completely unreadable in the blink of an eye, but at Virgil’s hard stare, he finally cracked a grin. “Sorry. Yes, daddy. We’ll play nice. I’ll even fuck Gael, just to keep him out of the way.”

Gael pouted. “As if it’d be a hardship. I always make you come so hard, you can’t stop screaming my name.”

“No, I do that hoping to stroke your ego enough that you’ll leave me alone after.” Parker gave Elliot a sideways glance. “He’s a cuddler.”

“I am not!”

Hart stepped between them, latching on to their wrists before towing them toward the stairwell. “We can all catch up later. Elliot wants this one to live, remember?”

“He almost broke my hand a few minutes ago, of course I remember.” Gael huffed, leaning into Hart while Parker tugged free and took off ahead of them. “All this work and we don’t even get to share? What kind of welcome home present is that?”

“Welcome home presents are supposed to be for the person who was gone.”

“Well, with how mean he’s being? I’m not getting him anything.”

The stairwell door shut behind them, cutting off whatever other ridiculous things Gael had to say, along with Hart’s patient responses.

Despite how much he’d enjoyed the peace of his own place, Elliot couldn’t help smiling a little. The guys were all a little crazy, and a lot to deal with on the daily.

But…

I missed them .

He looked at Virgil again. “We’ll be fine.”

Virgil inclined his head, starting toward his SUV, then backtracking to direct Tig—who never glanced up from his phone—into the elevator with them. “Call me with updates. I’ll probably have to head back to LA, I don’t know how long this last mess will take to clean up. The Feds getting involved always complicates things.”

“Will do.” Elliot let the elevator doors shut, pressing the button for the top floor, where his and Lux’s old rooms were. Now that the rest of the guys weren’t around to distract him, the urgency he’d felt on the plane hit him with full force. But he still managed not to touch Damon to make sure he was breathing, or check the monitor.

There was a doctor for all that. So long as Elliot got Damon to the room that’d been prepped for surgery, he could consider his debt paid.

And maybe, if he kept telling himself that often enough, he could smother all those weird feelings he’d been trying to avoid. Being around the guys reminded him of his place among his crew, and it wasn’t as the flirt, or the cuddler, or the sensitive one. He was the slightly detached one, always eager for the next gig, and making the hard, cold moves when no one else could.

Those guys were the closest thing he had to friends, but mostly because of the training and jobs they had in common. The fact that none of them blinked when discussing murder was a nice bonus, and he was grateful to have them. No one outside of their line of work would want anything to do with him.

Which made not getting all confused about Damon even more important.

When the elevator stopped, Elliot rolled the gurney down the long hall while Lux rushed ahead to open the door—thankfully, it wasn’t locked, because neither of them had their old keys. Inside, the scent of disinfectant hit him hard, the whole place smelling more like a hospital than fresh and flowery like he’d kept it before.

His place had always been spotless, but harsh cleaners were triggering as fuck, and more soothing scents helped him and Lux relax. They’d both been wary of teasing from the other guys at first, but no one ever said a thing.

In a crew of guys with their own trauma, everyone seemed to know, almost on instinct, what subjects to avoid. Wasn’t perfect, obviously, and there’d been different kinds of drama over the years.

But not a single one gave him a reason to kill them.

Which he appreciated. Gerard would probably charge him a shitload of blood credits to train a replacement. And he was already in serious debt.

More now, for Damon’s care.

I’ll just have to stick with breaking fingers .

Inside the loft, all his furniture had been covered with clear sheets, with boxes piled against one wall, probably brought up from storage. His place might’ve been left alone in the hopes he’d come back some day, but Gerard would’ve gotten someone to pack up any personal stuff he’d left behind—the apartment he’d rented for him and Lux in town hadn’t been big enough for everything.

What was strange was Gerard not having given the loft to one of the many specialists who worked with Eros’ Eight. He was nothing if not practical, and any one of them would’ve jumped at the chance to join the inner sanctum.

Virgil probably asked him to wait, just in case Elliot changed his mind about wanting more independence. If Lux hadn’t been a good fit to join the crew, the next guy brought in likely would’ve gotten the loft.

This proved neither man really doubted Lux could do the job.

And Elliot wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

Thankfully, he didn’t get a chance to dwell, because the door to his old game room opened, Winter stepping out with an older man wearing a mask and green scrubs a step behind him.

“Hey, Elliot.” Winter smiled at him, then held out his arms for Lux, laughing when Elliot’s little brother ran into them for a great big hug.

With white rimmed glasses, Winter had the hot nerd thing going for him, but he’d grown from a scrawny teen into a man who looked like he could be a superhero in a flimsy disguise—very young Michael B. Jordan vibes, with skin a few shades darker brown. He’d gained some serious muscle since the last time Elliot had seen him. Black hair perfectly trimmed and a glint of mischief in his eyes, he somehow managed to be disarming, with a hint that he could get someone in the fun kind of trouble.

Still, he was the most reliable of all the guys aside from Parker and the one Elliot trusted most with Lux. It helped that if anyone fucked with Elliot’s little brother, Winter would find creative ways to make them suffer.

All he’d need was some lighter fluid.

And a box of matches.

Stepping aside so Elliot could roll the gurney into the room, past the blue curtains hung across the doorway, Winter spoke quickly at quiet urging from the doctor. “This is Dr. Kwan and he wants to get started right away. He also wants you to get out of there before you contaminate the room he just finished sterilizing.”

Elliot inclined his head, leaving the gurney in the middle of the room and retracing his steps. He managed not to look at Damon, doing a damn good job of emotionally detaching from the man, if he did say so himself.

With a glance at the doctor—who didn’t seem scared, so much as impatient—Elliot got out of the way and joined his brother and the other guys in the living room.

On the still plastic covered sofa, Lux was showing Winter a Youtube video, which sounded like an episode analysis of… Game of Thrones . Meanwhile, Tig was bouncing on the plastic covered armchair, making it rock erratically, thumping and crackling beneath him.

“You won’t believe what I found out about your Damon.” Tig didn’t give Elliot a chance to correct him, speaking in a rush from inside the shadows of his hoodie. “His parents were Charles and Madelaine Burrow, both pretty big name actors. They died in a major pileup on a bridge in San Francisco—their car ended up in the water. Seems like some TikTok influencer was charged for the accident after trying to make a name for themselves getting some exclusive pics. Anyway, Damon was, like, fifteen, and he dropped off the map until he was twenty-two, when he was arrested for robbing a bank. He was just the driver, but a couple people died, and he refused to make a deal to reduce his sentence. Isn’t that awesome?”

Elliot arched a brow. “Which part?”

“He’s not a rat. That’s good, isn’t it?” Tig pushed back his hood, chewing on his bottom lip as he peered up at Elliot. His dark red hair and bright green eyes made him absolutely stunning, and he had cute, elfin features, but sometimes, Elliot wasn’t sure how he managed a single job without revealing how much like an overeager puppy he could be. Or how he didn’t spill his whole life story the second a mark got him talking. “Maybe Gerard can convince him to become our driver? He just got out of prison and he was probably desperate for work, which is how he ended up as a bodyguard for the mob. But he’s a good guy who’s done bad things, just like us. Don’t you want him to stay?”

Jaw clenched, Elliot firmly shook his head. “Why the fuck would I want that? He saved Lux. I’m saving him. When he’s healed up, he’s gonna want to leave and I’m gonna let him.”

Winter eyed him from the sofa. “What if he doesn’t?”

“He’s really nice.” Lux paused the video, but didn’t look up from the screen. “I hope he sticks around.”

Sighing, Elliot rubbed his hands over his face. “I’m too tired to discuss this right now. If Gerard decides to offer him a job, that’s between them. There’s no point in thinking that far ahead, though.” His gaze went to the closed door of the makeshift surgical room. “Let’s wait to see how the surgery goes.”

“Why don’t you take a shower while we wait. Dr. Kwan said it’ll take hours.” Winter gave him a shrewd once over. “And you’re still covered in blood and…stuff.”

Tig popped off the armchair. “So’s Lux. Come on, kiddo, you can shower at my place. Gael got me using this new shampoo, and I didn’t want to at first, but it made my hair super shiny. Do you like it? I bet your curls will look amazing. We can have him come over and style them and do your nails and everything while we catch up.”

“Can I tell you some theories I have?” Lux held up his phone as he stood. “Elliot hates hearing them.”

“No, I don’t. I…” Blowing out a breath, Elliot gave his little brother a guilt-ridden smile. “Okay, maybe it’s not my favorite show in the world, but I like hearing about the stuff you’re interested in. Honest.”

Lux patted his arm on the way by. “I know, but you’ve…peopled for too long. You need a shower and a nap. I’ll be okay.”

“You sure?”

Smiling softly, Lux nodded. “I want to catch up with everyone. And…” His gaze swept over the loft, his smile growing. “I’m really glad we’re home.”

“Me, too.” Elliot ruffled his brother’s hair, exchanging a look with Winter, who nodded quickly before joining Lux and Tig. “It’s not much of a home anymore, but I’ll fix it.”

“Only after you take care of yourself.” Lux’s lips quirked at the edge as he held out his pinky. “Promise?”

Hooking his own pinky to Lux’s, Elliot nodded. “Pinky swear.”

Alone in his loft—Dr. Kwan never came out of the room, and Damon was unconscious, so they didn’t count—Elliot opened a few boxes to find one with his clothes. Bringing it to his bedroom, he picked out what he wanted to wear, going for comfort now that he wasn’t on the job. In the attached bathroom, he left the pile of clothes on the marble counter before turning on the shower full blast, the water heating up a lot faster than it did at his and Lux’s apartment. There was also a waterproof, bluetooth speaker put in just for Lux, who found music soothing whenever he was alone.

Gerard made sure all the lofts were damn nice, and even though the lease cost a few blood credits, it was nothing compared to cashing out what he’d needed to pay rent every month. Food and everything else was included here, and with top of the line security, it was much safer.

But as Elliot stripped down and stepped under the blazing spray, all he could think about was the many reasons he’d had for leaving. His eyes stung as he braced a hand against the wall, his muscles relaxing and his body reminding him of the unpleasant parts of the latest mission, when he’d been forced to give up control. When Saint Claude had caught him off guard.

Being here, knowing he was safe and he didn’t have to take care of everything on his own, gave him too many moments like this. Moments when he had to face all the things that fucked with him. He knew if he needed to talk shit over, Parker would be there, ready to hear him out, then find the perfect distraction. Or Winter, who’d tell him how much shit sucked before dragging him to the exercise room to work out his feelings on the mat.

Elliot couldn’t shut down and focus on Lux when there were others to watch over his little brother. And maybe that was healthier, but…he didn’t like it. He preferred having complete control over every aspect of his life and his emotions.

Except, he’d made an agreement with Gerard and there was no backing out now.

So he’d deal, like he always did when he had to surrender for a little while.

Like when Saint Claude had held him down for his men.

Stomach turning, Elliot grabbed a bottle of body wash, pouring some on the scrubbing brush he liked using after the most difficult missions. The harsh bristles made his skin sting and brought back echoes of his mother’s voice. He blocked it out, scrubbing harder until the pain overpowered the memories, turning internal screams into trickles of blood being washed down the drain.

Clean as humanly possible from head to toe, Elliot left the shower, dried off, and got dressed in black cotton boxer briefs, a matching tank top, and his favorite, dark purple track suit. Made the bathroom as spotless as it’d been before, leaving not a trace of anything that might worry Lux.

Mind settled again, he managed to crawl in his freshly made bed—likely thanks to Parker, who was awesome with these kinds of details—and fall asleep within minutes.

He woke to the sound of running water in the kitchen, going in to find Dr. Kwan pouring himself a glass of water. The doctor had changed out of his scrubs, revealing a gray suit and tie, his head bald on top, with wisps of gray hair on the sides matching perfectly with his soft features. His skin was lighter than Elliot’s, as if he didn’t go out in the sun often, and he had shrewd brown eyes that studied him for several long moments as he sipped his water.

“There’s bottled water in the fridge if you want it.” Elliot went to the fridge, grabbing one for himself and holding up another, but the doctor shook his head. “If you’re hungry, I can send someone for anything you want. Accommodations can be—”

“That won’t be necessary.” Dr. Kwan set his glass on the counter. “He’s out of the woods and resting peacefully. None of the bullets hit anything vital, which is a miracle in itself, but he’ll still be recovering for the next few weeks.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “Some of your men came in to help move him to a comfortable bed, but I’ll tell you what I told them. I’m willing to take him with me when I leave and I won’t report…any of this. He’ll need a great deal of care—”

“No.” Elliot tightened his grip around the cold bottle in his hand. He should accept the doctor’s offer, but for some fucked up reason, he couldn’t. And the answer was probably a lot simpler than his mind wanted to make it. He needed to prove, even with Damon here, that he could master those unfamiliar feelings without being thrown completely off balance. “I’ll take care of him. You’ll come back if anything goes wrong.”

A flash of irritation sharpened Dr. Kwan’s features, but he finally just nodded. “He’s my patient, of course I’ll come back. And you may call me if you have any questions.”

“I will. Thank you.” Elliot glanced over as the front door opened, Parker and Winter coming in and giving him expectant looks. “Winter, you mind giving Dr. Kwan a ride home?”

Winter inclined his head. “On it.”

Once Winter and the doctor were gone, Elliot finished his water, Parker joining him as he went to his old game room. All the curtains and plastic and medical supplies had been removed, only an IV and a monitor by the bed to indicate Damon wasn’t just sleeping.

His deep, slow, even breaths settled something deep inside Elliot, releasing a tension he hadn’t even realized had been there.

“It’s messing with you, isn’t it?” Parker nudged his side when he didn’t answer right away. “You’ve never been into messing with me or the other guys, but you’re totally into him.”

Since no one else was around to judge him for it—aside from himself—Elliot nodded, approaching the bed and brushing his hand over Damon’s hair. “Yes. But I don’t know why.”

Parker chuckled, not moving from the doorway. “Because he’s different. From what Tig dug up, it sounds like he’s a nice guy who got stuck in a fucked up situation. A dash of lust and you feeling responsible for him? It’s a recipe for disaster.”

“So what do I do about it?”

“Fuck him.” Parker shrugged when Elliot glanced back at him over his shoulder. “What? I mean, wait until he’s up to it, but that’s probably all you need. And you’re hot—I don’t see him saying no if you ask to ride his cock.”

“I don’t know…” Elliot lifted a brow. “I’ve said ‘no’ quite often to come ons like that.”

Rolling his eyes, Parker rested his shoulder against the door frame. “Fine, seduce him however nice guys need it to get hard and not get all up in their feelings. But every day he’s here is costing you, man. Don’t drag this out longer than necessary.”

Considering how they both lived, that was really good advice. And everything else Parker said made sense. Giving his friend a slight nod, Elliot stood by Damon’s bed, absently stroking his hair long while Parker's footsteps faded away. The front door opened and closed, leaving him in silence.

Exhaustion hit Elliot without warning, telling him he hadn’t slept long enough to catch up on all he’d missed lately. He eyed Damon, wondering how long it’d be before he woke up.

And what would happen when he did.

The answer was obvious, so Elliot went to the living room, searching through a few more boxes to find a couple pairs of handcuffs. Shaking his head at himself, he grabbed a sleeping bag and brought it back to the game room, dropping it on the floor before approaching the bed.

Clipping a handcuff to each of Damon’s wrists and securing them to the headboard, Elliot stood back, satisfied that the man couldn’t get up suddenly and hurt himself. He didn’t know if he could do what Parker had suggested and seduce Damon, but the priority, right now, was getting him fully healed.

A sane person would give Damon the option of going to a hospital.

Would likely have brought him there in the first place.

But Elliot never claimed to be fully sane, and he knew, without a doubt, that if he let Damon out of his sight, he’d never see him again.

The truth was, no matter how fucked up, how confusing, or how wrong…

I’m not ready to let him go.

Not yet.