Page 10 of The Silencer

If I had a brother, I’d choose someone just like him.

“Oh gosh, those bruises look brutal,” Angel says, his fingers trailing over the black and blue spots on my ribs.

“Yeah, they don’t feel that great either.”

“Agatha has some cream for these. She’s making you a batch.”

“Yeah?” I ask, my mind conjuring up the woman who runs the kitchen. She’s always been so kind to me and makes me a mean French pastry every time I show up.

“Yeah, I know when my dad told her what happened, she said she’d get on making a batch right away. It really is amazing stuff.”

I eye him. “How do you know it’s amazing? I can’t imagine you ever being hurt.”

“Oh, I’ve never used it. My dad has though. He boxes sometimes.”

I envision Anthony in a ring, sweat dripping down his powerful body and feel my dick start to chub up. Well, hell. At this rate, I’ll be hard for all eternity.

Angel’s hand leaves my side, and he helps me get into the tub. The water is hot, but not so much so that it hurts. As soon as I sink down into it, I feel the relief of the heat on my sensitive, aching skin.

“This is nice,” I wheeze as I lean back and take a moment to appreciate my surroundings. The bathroom is elegant, like all parts of Anthony’s mansion. I shouldn’t have expected anything less. Marble floors, a small chandelier hanging overhead, orchids perched on the windowsill. A small haven for his guests.

“Yes, it is. And you’ll smell much better.”

“You keep saying that, Angel, and I’ll get a complex,” I reply with a small laugh.

He giggles in response as he grabs two glass bottles and settles near the end of the tub. “You know you’re a hottie. Even with the black eye. You just look a little…oily.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“But even oily, you look like a rock star. A sweaty one.”

“I better look like a fucking rock star,” I grumble as he helps me lean my head back against the cool ceramic.

“Stop being so snarky and let me wash your hair.”

“Fine, wash away.”

He sighs and then gets to work, his fingers working the suds into my scalp. I already feel more human.

“After this,” Angel says, nearly humming, “Want to go for a walk?”

“With that hottie bodyguard, Casey?”

“Yeah,” Angel says with a small laugh.

“I’m down,” I say. “Gotta get my six-pack back.”

“You’ve only ever had a six-pack in your dreams.”

I scoff and turn my head slightly to glower at him. It hurts to do so, but I still manage to make eye contact.

“You’re a real brat when you want to be, you know that?” I say, and Angel grins at me.

“I mean, I have to be a little bratty. My twin is Diablo.”

“True,” I say and then settle back against the tub. “But anyways, I need to at least get some of my definition back. At least my two-pack.”

“Sounds reasonable.”

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