Page 35 of A Life Chosen

Mathias gave him a stony look.

Rayan averted his eyes, chastened. “Everything in my head is trying to come out my mouth,” he mumbled.

“Careful with that,” Mathias said.

Rayan was an endearing drunk at least. There were worse things. The light turned green, and he sped through the empty streets toward Rosemont.

“How’d you end up with the Russian’s piece?” Mathias asked.

“I took it.”

“After you smashed up his friend’s face?”

“With a beer bottle. I didn’t have my gun.”

Mathias smiled ruefully, not sure if he was amused or impressed. “What were you doing wandering around at night unarmed?”

Rayan sighed, leaning back against the headrest. “When I can’t sleep, walking helps. Takes my mind off things.”

“Why can’t you sleep, Rayan?”

He turned to Mathias, his mouth a grim line. “Because of the dreams.”

Mathias held his gaze until he looked away, staring out the window as they turned onto Saint-Michel.

“What was on the paper?” his second asked into the darkness.

“Names,” Mathias replied.

Rayan sat forward, eyes widening. “A hit list… of family members?”

Mathias nodded slowly. There had been another name on the list, below the handful of ranked elite:Rayan Nadeau. Proof he’d been getting noticed—the wrong kind of attention.

He parked outside Rayan’s building and walked him to the elevator, one hand on his shoulder to steady him. Mathias had thought it an annoyance that the man didn’t drink. Now he could appreciate it. Once in the apartment, he steered his second toward the bedroom before heading to the kitchen, taking a glass from the cabinet, and filling it with water.

“That was risky even for you,” Rayan murmured when Mathias returned.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, fumbling with his shoelaces. Mathias handed him the glass, and he took several gulps then placed it on thenightstand.

“Then you shouldn’t have come.”

“And let you go alone?” Rayan snarled. “That’s a mistake I won’t make twice.”

Suddenly tired, Mathias sat down beside him on the bed, bending over to yank off Rayan’s shoes. His second was right of course. Things could have turned out very differently. He needed to go home and collect his thoughts.

When he straightened up, Rayan was moving toward him, reaching for his belt buckle. Despite everything, the surge of desire was immediate, crackling through him like a current. Mathias could almost feel his hand around the curve of Rayan’s throat, the firm swell pressing against the front of his pants. He wrestled with the want before easily disarming him and pushing him backward onto the bed. His fingers moved on their own, tracing the scar along Rayan’s neck.

“My father's doing,” his second said with a half smile. “Didn’t like me covering for my brother.” The smile disappeared. “‘Careful who you stick your neck out for.’ His words.”

It would have been deep to have left something like this, a mark lingering into adulthood. “Thought you didn’t have a father.”

“I did once.”

Mathias stopped himself, removing his hand from the intoxicating pull of Rayan’s skin. He knew if this continued, he wouldn’t be able to hold back. Tapping his palm against Rayan’s cheek, he got to his feet. “Sleep it off.”

His second stared up at him, eyes swimming with vodka yet serious. “If you need something…”

There was that pang again. The lines crossed. The power to make someone cross them.

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