Violent Angel (Pretty Broken Things #1)

22. Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Two

T wo words. Damon only said two words when his call to Gerard went to voicemail.

It’s done.

Only, that was a lie. The look on Elliot’s face hadn’t been hatred. No switch flipped to make him suddenly become harder, and colder. He wasn’t invincible.

He was hurt.

I hurt him.

And I did it for nothing.

Why the hell had Damon listened to Gerard? Why had he believed the handler knew what Elliot needed?

Like somehow, magically, leaving him behind would give Elliot some kind of superpowers? Yes, Damon’s little python was tough. He was well trained, he was lethal, and he could take more than anyone should have to take without falling apart.

Because he’d been broken down so many times, he struggled to recognize his own humanity. To focus on his own needs, to see emotions as anything other than a weakness.

Gerard saw them as a weakness, too. To protect Elliot, he’d tried to eliminate them.

And I helped him do it.

Sitting on the bed, Damon palmed his phone, only half aware of Gael, kneeling behind him and kissing the side of his neck. He was pretty sure the man was naked, but nothing and no one had ever interested him less in his life.

Gael wasn’t trying to seduce Damon to help Elliot in any way. At least Gerard, fucked up as his efforts might be, actually believe they would make Elliot safer.

But Gael?

No, he wanted Damon because he belonged to someone else.

Shoving off the bed so fast, Gael tipped forward and hit the floor, Damon dialed one of the few numbers he knew by heart. “Hey, Rome.”

His vision blurred at the familiar voice.

Even though Rome sounded furious. “You fucking asshole! It’s been over a month! Do you know I have a wrinkle on my forehead because of you? And possibly a gray hair. You’d better have more to say than ‘Hello, Rome.’” He inhaled sharply. “Were you in a coma? If you were, I’m sorry. Otherwise, you have some explaining to do.”

“I know.” Damon ignored Gael when the man tried to get his attention and paced across the room. “Are you sitting down? I have to make this the abridged version, because I need some advice. I fucked up…I fucked up really bad, and I don’t know how to fix it.”

Rome let out a soft sound of sympathy. “I’m listening, Burr baby. Tell daddy all your troubles so he can make them all better.”

The ‘abridged version’ of the past month needed a lot of censoring to avoid telling Rome things it was dangerous for him to know, but the vague details were enough. Several times, Gael let out dramatic sighs, and laughed at painful moments, but he'd become nothing more than white noise in the background.

When Damon got to the present day, and his conversation with Gerard, his best friend cut him off for the first time.

“Tell me you didn’t fucking go through with it.” Rome let out a long, noisy sigh when Damon didn’t answer. “If you fucked that bitch, and Elliot doesn’t kick your ass for it, I’m coming down there to do it myself.”

“I didn’t fuck him.” Damon frowned at a soft knock at the door. “And I’m not going to.”

The door unlocked and swung open, Lux peering up at him from where he was kneeling with a lockpick in his hand.

Walking by the smaller man, Winter fixed Damon with a cold stare. “I’m glad you didn’t fuck Gael. Maybe we’ll let you live after all. Now say goodbye to whoever that is.”

“Oh, now that’s no fair!” Rome’s voice was loud enough for everyone in the rapidly filling room to hear him. “You’re cutting me out at the best part! Damon, you’d better call me and tell me how this ends. Good luck!”

Ending the call, Damon looked over Winter’s shoulder, meeting Elliot’s eyes. “I don’t expect you to forgive me, but before anything else happens, I need to say this. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry for hurting you. For not trusting you were strong enough to deal with…with everything. You’re strong, Elliot. So strong even when you let yourself feel. Especially when you let yourself feel. Because those emotions you’ve tried to lock away, that you were told you had to? Make you the person who you are. One who loves fiercely, who saves people who will never know his name, who defends his friends while asking for nothing in return.”

Nudging Winter aside, Elliot stepped right up to Damon, the pain in his eyes even more gutting this close. “If you believe that, then why did you leave me? Why did you go to him ?”

Still sprawled naked on the floor—likely staying there because Lux’s dog stood over him, looking one wrong move away from tearing out his throat—Gael let out a airy laugh. “Maybe he was finally tired of what sounds like all kinds of baggage, sweetie pie. I can give him a good, dirty, uncomplicated fuck.”

“No. No , Elliot, it wasn’t that.” Damon brought his hand to Elliot’s cheek, forcing him not to look anywhere other than right back at him. “I was using him to make you hate me. I believed someone when they told me your hate would keep you safer…safer than my love. It was fucking weak and I won’t bother making excuses.”

Lux stood and moved to his brother’s side. “I will. Because it was stupid, but he lost two people who loved him. He’s just as fucked up as the rest of us.”

“My parents have nothing to do with this.” Damon’s throat tightened. “That was…my dad…”

Choking up water, Damon stared at the spot where his father would come up.

Any second.

He’d gotten Damon out. He must be helping Mom.

Any second…

But the still water took his whole world and swallowed it whole.

Saving him cost too much.

No one else would ever pay that price.

Eyes closed, Damon shook his head. “If my dad had left me behind, he would’ve survived. He was still alive. But he chose me and I wasn’t worth that. I’m still not worth that, Gerard was right, I—”

A solid punch to the jaw knocked him to the floor, Elliot following him down. Hands fisted in Damon’s shirt, he shook him. Hard . “You don’t decide if I get to love you, you fucking asshole! You don’t get to let Gerard manipulate you into destroying us. You don’t decide the man I love is worthless. The only thing you get to decide is if you love me back.”

“I do. I love you so much I would break my own chest open and hand you my heart if I believed you needed it.” Damon licked at the blood spilling over his bottom lip. “I would kill a hundred people, a thousand, to protect you, but you’re better off protecting yourself.”

“Maybe I am. But having you by my side while I drop whatever bodies deserve to be dropped? Sleeping in your arms, waking up to find you in our kitchen making coffee, finally having a reason to smile, just because you make me feel alive for the first fucking time?” Elliot stared down at him. “ That’s what I needed from you. What I need from you. And if you love me, you’ll give it to me.”

Damon nodded slowly, done with trying to figure out what the right thing was. If Elliot still wanted him, there was nowhere else he’d rather be. “I will. I don’t know how you can trust me again after this, but I’ll do whatever it takes to earn it back.”

“Anything?” Elliot’s lips curved slightly. “Including proving you trust me?”

Frowning, Damon started to rise, but Elliot pressed a booted foot to his chest, stopping him. “Yes. But why wouldn’t I trust you?”

“Because you seem to think Gerard has me on some kind of leash.” Elliot’s jaw ticked. “That he knows how to control my reactions. How to stop me from going too far.” He exchanged a look with Winter. “Tie them both up.”

Gael started scrambling back, freezing when Awolf growled at him. “You can’t fucking do this. I’m one of you! Nexus will eliminate every single one of you if you turn on your own.”

Slipping behind Gael, Lux took off his dog’s leash and used it to restrain the naked man. “Why would we turn on you?”

“Right? You’re so paranoid, G.” Winter hefted Damon off the ground, moving him to a chair and cuffing his wrists behind his back. “We’re all friends here, aren’t we? We’re just gonna have a friendly little chat.”

Tig dragged out the second chair, then helped Lux lift Gael onto it. “Is the chat gonna hurt? I don’t think he’ll tell us why he’s still alive if it doesn’t hurt. You promised to show me how to skin someone someday, Winter. Is it someday yet?”

“It might be.” Winter winked at Tig. “Go get my kit.”

Breaths coming in rapid bursts, Gael shook his head. “No! If you mark me, I’ll have nothing. Swear that you’ll let me go after and I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

“Fine. I swear.” Elliot held up a finger for Tig to wait, then folded his arms over his chest, glaring at Gael. “Do you know what happened to the others? Archie? Hart?” His throat worked. “Parker?”

“I didn’t until he came for me. Right before a mission, a bunch of men grabbed me and brought me to a hotel.” Gael looked nervously at the men around him. “He told me he’s been sending you gifts, but you haven’t gotten them. Either that, or you didn’t appreciate them as much as you should. Archie’s head, Hart’s…heart. He asked what part of me would be special to you.”

Elliot’s brow furrowed. “I haven’t gotten anything.”

This was something Damon could help with. “Gerard’s been keeping it from you. When I was in his office, he showed me pictures of everything. He intercepted the packages—he didn’t want to risk them fucking with you.”

“And that’s when he decided loving you was ‘fucking with me’.” Elliot sucked his teeth and jutted his chin at Gael. “Go on.”

“Obviously, I told this guy nothing of mine would be special. Me and you aren’t friends.” Gael lowered his gaze. “He offered to let me go if I…gave him someone else.”

Feeling around for something to steady himself, Elliot braced his hand against the dresser. His voice came out strangled. “You didn’t… Gael, tell me…tell me you didn’t give up Parker.”

“I didn’t have a choice! If I hadn’t, he would’ve killed me and Parker would’ve been next anyway. That’s all I know.” Gael struggled against his restraints. “Now you have to let me go. You swore you would, Elliot.”

Elliot inclined his head. “Yes. I did.”

Hopping up from where he’d sat on the floor, petting his puppy, Lux snapped his fingers. “Awolf, stay.” He smiled proudly when the white dog held still. “Good boy.”

Pulling out a small pistol, he brought it to Gael’s temple.

And pulled the trigger.

Blood and brains erupted from Gael’s skull, covering the bed, the floor, and the wall. More even hit the ceiling. A bloody mess, the kind these men were used to, so not a single one of them even blinked.

What fucked with Damon the most, though?

Was neither did he.

Parker deserved better.

And if Gael had sold him out that easily?

He’d've done the same to the rest of Eros’ Eight without hesitation.

Gerard might’ve tried to salvage the situation. Recondition Gael because the man had been good at his job. But he wasn’t the one who got to make that call. The men standing in this room did.

Those four gazes turning to Damon could only mean one thing.

I’m next.

“Lux, go play with your puppy over there. And don’t look.” Elliot waved toward the other side of the bed, bringing his attention back to Damon when his brother darted out of sight. His lips curved as he pulled off his shirt, using it to wipe the spray of blood off his face. “He doesn’t need to see this.”

Damon nodded, never taking his eyes off Elliot as his man kicked off his sneakers, then stripped off his pants and boxers. His socks were last, all his clothes scattered like breadcrumbs across the floor, leading right up to the chair where Damon was bound.

Whatever he was about to do would probably get messy.

And Elliot was nothing if not practical.

At least Winter’s kit’s still in the car. I’m not getting skinned.

Which wasn’t as reassuring as it should be.

“You look scared.” Elliot reached down, popping open the button to Damon’s jeans. He freed Damon’s dick, smirking when his breath caught. “It’s kinda hot, but nothing compared to you with a hammer. Fuck, I’ll be jerking off to that sight for as long as I live.”

Shifting backward, then forward, Damon groaned as Elliot began to stroke him. “Is this my reward? I get to die a happy man?”

“If you think I’d let you die, you haven’t been paying attention.” Elliot straddled Damon’s lap, reaching back to position his dick before sinking down slowly. At first, he was too tight, too dry, but then heat and moisture spread, easing the way to a smooth up and down glide. “I’m not letting you go. Not now, not ever. But when you make such a terrible mistake?” He fucked himself onto Damon harder, faster, pain and pleasure stealing across his features. “I might be a little extreme in how I teach you a lesson.”

At first, Damon was confused. How the hell was letting him feel that beautiful, hot body on him a lesson? But the scent of blood got stronger, and when Elliot reached down to stroke himself, his hand, his dick, were smeared with red.

“Elliot…” Damon jerked at the cuffs. “Fuck, you’re hurting yourself. Stop it!”

“Come with me.” Elliot touched his forehead to Damon’s, riding him even faster. “Come with me and I’ll stop. For now.”

Growling in frustration, Damon twisted his wrists. He tried to lift his hips and toss Elliot off him, but the tight grip of those thighs held him in place. And even knowing the damage his man was doing, there was no resisting how fucking good Elliot was at drawing out every ounce of pleasure.

He fucked himself on Damon’s dick in an erotic dance, undulating his body, throwing his head back as though lost in bliss. Tightening around Damon each time he lowered, pumping his hips in quick bursts, he drove him right to the edge.

Then over.

“Ugh, god! ” Damon’s spine bowed with the impact of his orgasm, like Elliot had strings tied to every nerve in his body and used them to play him like a puppet. Cum joined the blood Elliot had used as lube, rough spurts forcing him to fight his own body so he didn’t slam up hard. “Fuckfuck fuck . Elliot, please, baby. Please…”

Settling down on Damon’s lap, Elliot trailed a finger through the cum painted across Damon’s chest and brought it up to his lips. “I think I made my point.”

Heart pounding, Damon sucked Elliot’s finger clean. “And what was it?”

Elliot stood, accepting a wet cloth from Winter, and began to wipe off the blood.

“Don’t try to decide what I can handle.” He leaned in for a kiss. “You’ll always be wrong.”