Violent Angel (Pretty Broken Things #1)

7. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

T here was an arm around Elliot.

Actually, two arms.

And…apparently, I’m a ‘little spoon’?

The wrist he’d cuffed to Damon was against his chest, one of Damon’s arms under him, and the other snug around his waist, keeping him tucked right against a very muscular body. A strange feeling, but…one he liked, very much.

Not to mention, he hadn’t slept this well since… ever .

His standards for a good night sleep started when he first came across the ocean when he was six and Gerard set him up in a small boarding school with Lux and several other boys. Every single one had the potential to either end up on a Most Wanted list, or be trained to become something more.

Or, in Lux’s case, was insurance to keep Elliot from going on a killing spree before his tenth birthday, but the details were irrelevant.

In a clean, safe environment, with two teachers for every four kids and a strict schedule, after a few months, Elliot had finally started to relax. Lux still slept in his bed for the first two years, but the teachers brought in just for him were so patient and kind, Elliot didn’t feel the need to be vigilant twenty-four-seven.

He never stopped waking at the slightest sound, but things were usually quiet, all the kids too exhausted at the end of the day to get in any trouble.

Laying here with Damon was like that, only better. There was no reason for Elliot to feel safe around the man, or for his mind to be so quiet while being held by him, but that was exactly what’d happened.

Maybe he’d question it later, when he wasn’t debating whether to go back to sleep, or get up and do something special for Damon. The urge for the latter grew the longer he lay there, until finally, he had to go with it.

He’d brought up the whole sex thing and Damon hadn’t freaked out. Or laughed at him. Or gently turned him down.

No, he’d asked Elliot to sleep with him.

They’d cuddled .

If that didn’t deserve breakfast in bed and a whole different approach than yesterday, nothing did.

Moving carefully to avoid waking Damon, Elliot unlocked the cuff around his wrist and laid it on the bed. Sliding out from under Damon’s arm, he padded silently across the room. Opened the door and closed it with a soft snick behind him.

Leaving Damon unrestrained might not be smart, but better to test him now than wait until he was healed enough for fucking. If he turned on Elliot within the next few days, he’d be easy to put down.

If Elliot let him close, while he was naked and vulnerable, it would be painful.

Hurt in ways he’d never let anyone hurt him.

But the confusing emotions that’d messed with him yesterday didn’t feel so alien anymore. He liked talking to Damon, liked touching him, and there was nothing wrong with that, right? His brain wasn’t sending off warning flares anymore, so that was progress.

If anything, he felt almost…peaceful.

Gerard was always on his case about getting more rest between missions—this might be why. Replicating the cuddling, the warmth, and the quiet, rhythmic breathing after he and Damon fucked would be hard, but…maybe they could come up with some kind of arrangement?

Damon hadn’t said yes to getting a job here, but he hadn’t said no either.

The possibilities seemed endless, and it made Elliot a little giddy.

Yeah, that I’ve gotta get a handle on.

After taking a quick shower—quick for him, anyway—using a luffa instead of the brush, Elliot went through his usual morning routine, humming a vague song he couldn’t remember the name to until he Googled the lyrics.

Beg by Vana. Should he be relieved he wasn’t humming love ballads? Not that he’d really ever listened to any. He laughed to himself as the song played, the beat matching perfectly with the steady pulse down low. Getting dressed with an erection was another new experience, but he didn’t mind it at all. Imagining Damon doing all kinds of rough, dirty things to him made him feel…so fucking alive.

Sleep wasn’t the only thing he’d been missing out on.

His phone buzzed and he glanced over, accepting the call when Parker’s number appeared on the screen. “Hey! Just the man I was hoping to talk to this morning. You busy?”

“No, but I think I got the wrong number. Is this Elliot? Use our code words if you’re being held against your will.” Parker chuckled at Elliot’s heavy sigh. “Is this you after a good fuck, because I gotta say, I approve.”

Elliot rolled his eyes as he pulled on some blue socks he was pretty sure were Lux’s. All of his were either black, white, or gray, but he’d snatched up the only ones with color. His T-shirt was the same shade. “He almost died less than two days ago, he’s not ready for that. Am I not allowed to be in a good mood just because?”

“Sure you are, but if it’s not from sex, I’ll need to sit down with your guy and take notes. If he doesn’t stick around, we’ve gotta find a way to recreate it.” Parker blew out a noisy breath, the sounds of cars and people coming across the line, like he’d just stepped outside. “Winter broke my espresso machine, so I’m in town getting my fix. Why? You want anything?”

The closest town, Vatan, was actually a tourist trap, where skiers flocked in the winter, and nature and history enthusiasts swarmed in the warmer months. One of the downsides to its popularity was Eros’ Eight and all the guys from Nexus had to avoid it completely after the rougher missions so they didn’t traumatize the friendly-but-clueless inhabitants.

A huge plus side was the cafés and bakeries and restaurants, all vying for the tourists’ attention and serving up higher quality stuff than anything found in the big city. Prices went up a bit during the busier months—the shop owner’s association agreed on how much, to prevent any undercutting—but Elliot didn’t mind footing the bill.

Even not being much of a foodie, Elliot couldn’t resist stuffing his face whenever he was in town.

“Could you stop by Le Petit Délice and grab me…” Elliot tapped his chin as he padded into the kitchen, smiling warmly at Lux, who sat at the kitchen table eating a bowl of Cocoa Puffs while watching a bloody battle on his phone. “Two of everything. I’ll text Virgil and have him transfer the credits over.”

“You’ve got it, my guy.” Parker’s voice was drowned out as he entered a noisy store, someone shouting out order numbers while conversations about how beautiful the leaves were, and how lovely the weather, resonated around him. He switched to video call, giving Elliot a look at the crowded café. “I think it got featured on some vlog or something again. Might take me a bit, but I’ll see if Danny’s here. He owes me for saving him from some bikers a couple years ago—his words, not mine, but I won’t say no to a few perks.”

Elliot smiled, vaguely recalling his friend mentioning the confrontation and how pissed Gerard had been at him ‘going rogue’. The bikers took care of a lot of local cleanup for them, so maintaining the peace was good for business, but Parker didn’t give a fuck. He’d even used his own blood credits to bring in a private contractor for a few jobs to try to cut the bikers out, leaving him in serious debt.

The right job would help him break even, but in the meantime, the only extras he allowed himself were his fancy coffees.

All of Eros’ Eight hated bullies for various reasons.

But none more than Parker. Most of his unsanctioned kills were bullies he stalked for months, every abusive interaction jotted down in his ‘Red Book’. When he’d decided they needed to die, he brought them somewhere secluded and made them suffer every bit of pain their victims had.

Danny’s attackers were likely on borrowed time.

And all the sweet, innocent civilian knew was he had his very own protector.

Would he still be sneaking Parker to the front of the line and giving him free apple cinnamon donuts—likely how Parker had a constant supply—if he knew how much his hero enjoyed torture?

Probably not.

“Hey, Park?” Elliot’s brow furrowed as he grabbed a glass and went to the fridge to pour himself some orange juice. “This is the first time you’re mentioning Danny in a while, but do you…? I mean, is there any chance you and him could—?”

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Since when did he and the guys talk about sappy shit? He’d always made himself scarce when Gael started about his conquests, never mind when any of the crew mentioned anything more intimate.

“Forget it.”

“No and no.” Parker switched back to audio only. “You’ve got to stop acting like even mentioning relationships will give you hives. Face it, my guy. You have a heart and it deserves all the sticky, gooey feelings that got you in such a good mood this morning.” He went quiet as someone called out his name above the noise of the crowd. “Gerard and Virgil make it work, but it takes…the right match. Danny wouldn’t fit with someone like me. I still think you need to get your man healed up, fuck him, and send him packing before it costs too much, but… Hell, I don’t know. He could fit. I don’t give a damn about his feelings, but I do care about yours.”

Sipping his juice, Elliot stared out the window at the mountains, all covered in red and gold from the countless trees covered in leaves about ready to fall to the forest floor. Soon, all that color would be buried in white powder, and everything would be cold and dead.

“We don’t talk about stuff like this—I’m not sure how to feel about it. This mission was…different and I don’t know whether it’s what went down or Damon that’s messing with me more.” He shook his head, smiling reassuringly at his brother when Lux gave him a concerned look. “But I did figure out I missed you. I don’t regret coming home…yet.”

“Aww, man, now you’ve got me feeling all gooey.” Parker’s light teasing took some of the heaviness out of the conversation—exactly what Elliot needed. “You’re right, we don’t talk about it, but maybe we should. Because if I’d told you how much I missed you two years ago, maybe you would’ve come back sooner. You needed to do it for Lux, and I get that, but no more acting like strangers, ‘kay? We’re family.”

Elliot blew out a breath, rubbing at the scabs on his arm, some spots rough enough to look like roadburn. Emotions often overwhelmed him, and he’d made a habit of shutting them down, but he didn’t have to with Parker.

If anyone would understand how fucked up and complicated his brain was, it would be the man who’d been his first friend. And was still his best one. “Agreed. We’re family.” He glanced over to where his little brother was gapping at him with his spoon frozen halfway to his mouth. “Thanks, Park. I’ll see you soon. I gotta go convince Lux aliens haven’t taken over my body.”

“I bet.” Parker huffed out a laugh. “See you soon.”

Ending the call, Elliot joined Lux at the table, ruffling his hair to rile him up a bit and get him to stop worrying. But instead of snickering or batting at his hand, his little brother jerked away and shoved a spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

Someone’s in a mood.

“What’s wrong?” Elliot folded his arms on the table, laying his head on them and peering at his brother under the spill of wild, white curls. “I thought you were happy to be back.”

Lux glared at the screen, which was paused on what Elliot was pretty sure was the Red Wedding. “I am. But Damon’s making you not you.”

“How so?”

“You don’t spend blood credits on pastries. You don’t…” Lux blinked fast, then rubbed irritably at his cheek. “You don’t tell strangers personal things and… sleep with them.”

“Are you upset that I like him?” Elliot frowned when Lux shook his head. “Then what is it?”

Shoving his chair back, Lux stood and pointed toward the game room, where Damon was hopefully still asleep. “He’s a distraction. You never let anything distract you—you told me I couldn’t train, couldn’t go on missions, unless I showed you I could do it without…without feeling anything!” His blue eyes sheened with unspilled tears. “I know I can, because I’ve seen you doing it for years. Now…now you’re going to go on more missions and you’re gonna die because of him .”

“No. Lux, listen to me.” Elliot stood and took a firm hold of Lux’s shoulders, meeting his eyes. “Do I still believe you’ve gotta shut down all your emotions on missions? Yes. You need all your focus on the target—and on staying alive. But when we get down time, we get to chill out and have some fun. Right now? He’s a bit of fun.”

Lux sniffed, searching Elliot’s eyes like his whole world might implode if he doubted a single word. “What if he becomes more than ‘fun’? You were in bed with him all night, Elli, and it wasn’t for sex…” The edge of his lips twitched. “Unless he’s dead in there and I’m worrying for nothing?”

“You’d rather me have fallen asleep with a corpse than a man I’m into?”

“Uh huh.”

“Come here, crazy pants.” Elliot hugged his little brother tight. “You are worrying for nothing, but not because I’ve suddenly developed necrophilia. Gerard might’ve been a little grumpy about it, but he agree to let us —you wanted it, too, remember?—bring Damon back here. He wouldn’t have if he really thought he’d pose a threat.”

Arms wrapped around him, Lux went quiet for a bit, much calmer now, like he usually was. His pent up emotions might get the best of him sometimes, but he was tough and smart. Didn’t take much for him to see reason.

He finally nodded against Elliot’s chest, his voice muffled. “And if Gerard changes his mind?”

“Then we might have a problem.” Elliot eased Lux back and kissed his forehead. “But we don’t today. Today, I’m getting pastries because I wanna spoil the man who saved your life. And spoil you. You did hear me ask for two of everything, right?”

Gaze on his bare feet, Lux nodded again. “I’ll have some, and…I’m happy Damon’s doing better.”

“So you won’t try to kill him?”

“Not today.” Lux gave Elliot the cheeky grin he usually saved just for him—and sometimes Virgil—going back to his place at the table and fixing his chair. He sat down and picked up his bowl of chocolate cereal milk, then paused. “Wanna watch this with me for a bit until Parker gets here?”

Glancing toward the game room, Elliot held up a finger. “Give me a sec to check on our hero and I’ll be right with you. Are we about to watch half the Starks get slaughtered?”

“Yup. And the poor puppy.” Lux sipped from his bowl. “I want one.”

“As long as you don’t mean a direwolf, I’ll see what I can do.”

That settled, Elliot went silently to the game room, cracking the door open and letting his eyes adjust to the darkness.

In almost the exact same position where he’d left him, Damon was still in a deep sleep, but he’d claimed Elliot’s pillow at some point. Hugged to his chest, his face half hidden by the white fabric, like maybe the scent of Elliot lingered on it and soothed him.

Either that or he just enjoyed having the extra pillow. After five years in prison, every small comfort was probably pure bliss.

And even though part of Elliot hoped it was him helping Damon sleep so well, like the man had done for him, another part felt damn good knowing he’d provided what the man needed. Other than Lux, Elliot’d never had the urge to take care of anyone like this.

The newness of it all might fade eventually, but until then, pastries were just the start.

No matter how insane, or how dangerous, Elliot wanted to give Damon plenty of reasons to stick around. Even if it was just as a friend in the end, he liked the idea of being able to see the man whenever he wanted. Of knowing he hadn’t gotten himself in another fucked up situation.

Sure, he had his friend Rome, but that guy hadn’t been able to keep Damon from getting shot.

Wasn’t gonna be the one nursing him back to health.

So whatever position Damon ended up claiming in Elliot’s life…

He’s mine.

The words felt so right, Elliot didn’t bother questioning them as he eased the door shut and went to join his brother in watching what should’ve been a sweet happily-ever-after…

Turn into a bloody nightmare.