Page 41 of Forbidden Deviant Games

He then sighs and tucks the gun away before opening the door. “Troy, you’re running late,” he says, as a man I recognize as one of the many who’d come to Club Outsider a time or two.

“Sorry, Carter had me on another job earlier,” the man says, stepping further into the room.

“I need you to watch her.”

I scowl as Viks nods towards me.

Troy’s head tips back and he glances my way before returning his attention to Viks. “If she’s bait, why is she here?”

“That’s what I want to know,” I comment.

And once again, Viks ignores me. “Just watch her for me,” he says.

Troy sighs and nods. “Of course.”

“I mean it,” he says seriously. “I mean, treat her like you would your fucking mother. I want her safe at all costs even if that means you’re throwing your ass over her if a bullet flies her way.”

“Mitchell?” Does he honestly expect there to be flying bullets by the end of tonight? How dangerous does he think Kennedy is? I mean there are plenty of rapists who aren’t actually violent.

“Don’t worry, V,” Troy says, clamping a hand on his friend’s arm. “I think I get the picture. She’ll be good with me. I won’t let her leave this room.”

Viks blows out a breath, nods, and then spins towards me. “What are you doing?” I ask as he strides towards me, his legs eating up the distance between us.

“I gotta go, baby,” he says, taking me into his arms once more.

“What about me?” I ask. “What’s my role here?”

“I just need you to stay up here and stay in Troy’s sight,” he says.

“So … I’m not bait, then?” I ask, confused.

Viks dips his head and groans. “Yes and no,” he replies as if that’s not a completely and utterly contradictory answer. “I lied, Haley.”

“About?”

“I had to tell Carter you were bait to explain why you were with me, but … I don’t want you in danger.”

“So you’re leaving me here,” I state, glancing past him to the man standing by the door with a baseball cap drawn down low over his head. He looks like he’d rather be anywhere else but this room, and I honestly can’t blame him. “Why bring me at all if you were going to do this?”

“Because I have to, baby,” he answers. “I don’t have a lot of choices in the things I do, but I swear to you, you will be safe here with Troy. He’s a good person. I trust him with my life and that means I trust him with you.”

“And the gun?” I ask.

“Keep it,” he says.

“You didn’t want me to have it,” I remind him.

He nods. “Still don’t,” he agrees. “But it’ll make you feel safe, won’t it?”

I don’t respond right away. My eyes find the floor. His knuckle nudges my chin until I’m forced to look back up at him and meet his eyes. “It’s okay to be afraid,” he tells me. “What you went through was a traumatic experience. The gun makes you feel like you can protect yourself, and I know that’s why you asked for it.”

“I asked for it because I thought I was going to be in a little bit more danger than just stuffed into a room for a few hours while you go play superhero and hunt down your drug dealer,” I deadpan.

He arches a brow and I curse.

“…yeah okay, and because it makes me feel like I can protect myself.”

He smirks and cups my cheek. “Then it’s okay,” he says. “Keep it.” He leans forward and brushes his mouth over mine, once, twice, and a final third time before pulling back.

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