Page 29 of Hate Me

“Please. You don’t really do downtime. Although, I can see that you’re freshly satiated, which means I caught you at a good time.”

“A good time for what?”

“To grab a drink, of course.”

Hell.

Reeling in chaotic elements wasn’t my forte.

That was one of Bastian’s specialties.

Or it had been.

Unfortunately, it was something he’d had to not only learn, but master, at a very young age. All because of his manic sociopath of an older brother.

I had a zero-tolerance policy when it came to issues of this nature. I didn’t allow unruly behavior and actions to come close to touching me and mine. I didn’t placate or reason with either potential or certain threats.

I decimated them.

I was Ruin.

The fact that it wasn’t the case when it came to dealing with Damien Thorn didn’t sit well with me. I was having to take several pages out of Bastian’s playbook, following his Rein protocol, much to my frustration. I effectively had my hands tied behind my back because of it. Because I couldn’t simply end the bastard. Hell, I’d even stopped Bastian from attempting it himself because I knew he would regret it dearly, that despite everything Damien had done, he was still Bastian’s family, he still had an emotional hold on him.

I swirled my bourbon around my glass, trying to contain my agitation as I entertained this diplomatic track with the older problematic Thorn brother.

“Well?” I pushed. “Get to it. I have places to be.”

“Home with Seb?” he asked, far too interested.

“He’s long since asleep. I have work to do.”

“This late? That’s pushing it, even for you. You know, you should take it a little easier, you’re looking tired, King.”

“Then your perception is fucked.”

“Hmm. Maybe it’s not exhaustion then. The strain of remaining unfulfilled then? Sexually speaking, of course? Without Caleb here to give you what you need?”

I gulped back more of my bourbon to tamper down the reaction in me he was trying to elicit with ridiculous transparency.

I put my glass down on the decrepit wooden table and glared at him steadily.

The entire establishment had seen better days. Although, that was part of the charm of a dive bar to its patrons. Something down to earth and constant that was immune to change and upgrades. It offered them a certain comfort, a lack of complications in a world that was fraught with a great deal.

This sort of place wasn’t where I preferred to spend my time. But this was business not personal and often when it came to those I had to deal with through King’s more illicit activities, frequenting unpalatable locales was required.

In this case, not only was Damien Thorn not somebody I wanted to be seen consorting with given his reckless and unstable reputation, but his unpredictable nature made it necessary to do so far away from the eyes of my business associates and the press so any potential fallout could be contained quietly.

“Get to the reason for this meeting, or I’m gone.”

He chugged half of his beer, then slumped back against his chair. “I want to see him.”

“Denied.”

“He’s my brother.”

“That’s merely a biological fact. It holds no other weight now. You’ve made sure of that.”

He shoved a hand through his hair. “I get that. It’s why I need to see him, to apologize for what happened.”

---