Page 134 of Lock Up the Darkness

A couple of times after one of our sessions, we’d crashed in the same bed—sometimes his, sometimes mine—and during the night he’d first started tossing and turning, then lashing out, and finally, screaming out into the room. And there’d always been one name that had come through loud and clear.

Carson.

He’d been having nightmares about the abuse and trauma the motherfucker had inflicted upon him throughout his life.

And, Asher being Asher, he didn’t want to deal with it, because to him acknowledging it was giving it breath and power. So he slept as little as possible to avoid the insistence of his subconscious. The only time I’d known him to sleep longer than his maximum four hours, had happened the other night when the three of us had shared Aurora. He’d passed out wrapped around her, and hadn’t woken up until a little after me the next morning. While Pretty and Princess had still been fast asleep, I’d secretly watched him sneak out.

I followed the sounds of his coughing fit, which led me to the kitchen.

Striding in, I found him nursing a tea, the lemon and ginger that I could smell the moment I walked in, as he dragged on a smoke and eyed his laptop screen. He’d basically been chained to the thing for the last few days. He was in obsessive mode trying to crack this shit.

Beyond obsessive, actually. It had crossed a line now.

“You think smoking is the best idea while you’re choking on phlegm?”

He rolled his eyes. “That’s a misconception. It would actually be worse to abruptly quit, a shock to my lungs, my whole body. Not to mention, I need my mind sharp. Withdrawal isn’t exactly ideal for that.”

Neither was his anxiety that he used his smoking and that bracelet of his to sublimate.

I let it go, knowing me harping on it wouldn’t do shit. Especially not when he was in obsessive mode. “You need my help with something? Want me to make you some more chicken soup? Tuck you into bed—hopefully without your laptop this time—at least for a few hours?”

“I need you to quit the Mother Hen thing and become Savage.”

I started, my muscles tensing in response to him calling for that side of me. It had been way too long. I sounded all too eager as I asked, “Who needs my special brand of violence and punishment?”

“I know who Carson’s eyes are.”

“You… what? I thought you were all about cracking this thing?”

“I’m an excellent multitasker.”

“Who is it?”

“Andrew Hollis.”

“That shithead double crossed us? After you enlisted his assistance with the early-stage Aurora stuff so nicely?” Instead of threatening him, Asher had facilitated it so the guy had become salesman of the month or something at his office full of wannabe big shot stockbrokers.

“More like he doubled down. He got a taste of what extreme benefits Infidels power can offer. Carson took advantage of that and enlisted him. It’s why he’s been working from home lately. His bullshit about contracting mono shortly after when I had him and Liza work in concert at Fusion to test Aurora’s reaction and skills that night, was all a cover. Carson approached him when he went back to his office a couple of days afterward, then enlisted him.”

“How extreme of a message do you want me to send?”

“Put him in the ICU.”

“That’s it? Nothing permanent?”

“Cleaning up a body is too messy for us right now, especially with Carson involved.” A sadistic gleam lit his eyes, making my cock jerk. I loved that fucking look. “Besides, I’m already dealing with the other half of the message as we speak.”

I rounded the kitchen island and eyed his laptop screen. “Damn, you’re depleting his nest egg.”

“He’s suddenly found himself extremely charitable.”

“A couple million bucks worth. Yeah, that’s gonna hurt big time. Your father’s gonna know this was you.”

“I want him to.”

Of course. “So he gets the message that it’s not so easy to screw with you, that they’ll be consequences.”

“Hexwood is my territory. He needs a reminder.”

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