Page 84 of Hero Worship

My hands were steadyas I secured the last restraint around Roche’s ankle. The industrial grade straps had clearly been designed to hold against even the most intense struggling. Good, because I fully intended to enjoy watching Roche squirm.

The gas mask pressed uncomfortably against my face. I itched to take it off, but the lingering chemical sweetness in the air meant we couldn’t risk going without them yet. Next to me, Misha worked with methodical precision, checking each strap and buckle with trembling fingers. His movements were sharper now, more focused. Maybe the drugs were finally starting to wear off.

“Check the cabinet to the left,” he said, voice muffled by his gas mask. “That’s where they keep the paralytic agents.”

My stomach turned. How many times had Misha had to stand by and watch as Roche did this to helpless victims? I could only begin to imagine how much trauma he was carrying. Misha was going to need some serious help to live any semblance of a normal life after this. But we could deal with that after Roche was dead.

“How long does the paralysis last?” Ash asked from where he was working to disable the room’s security feeds.

“Long enough,” Misha said, his voice still somewhat detached. “Plenty of time for them to feel everything we’re going to do to them.”

Misha gathered the supplies, lining them all up on a surgical tray next to the table where Roche was strapped down.

I reached out, catching his wrist as he prepared the syringe. “Are you sure you want to be a part of this?”

His green eyes met mine through our masks, and I instantly recognized the familiar need for vengeance staring back at me. “They stole my father from me. Mylife. My freedom. I can’t even look in the mirror anymore without seeing what he made me. I need this.”

I nodded and released his wrist. We all had our own demons to exorcise tonight, our own justice to dispense.

Misha inserted the IV into Roche’s arm as if he’d done it a thousand times and punched a few codes into the medical monitors keeping track of Roche’s vitals. Then he slid the syringe into the port and pushed down the plunger. I watched the paralytic enter Roche's veins like liquid ice.

The empty syringe hit the surgical tray with a metallic clink. “Now, we wait. It takes about ten minutes to fully circulate. Then they’ll start to wake up.”

Ash’s hand found my shoulder and squeezed. I looked up at him, relieved to see some of the intensity had faded. He pulled me away from the table, just far enough that Misha couldn’t hear us. “I hope you understand I can’t be part of this, Xander. I won’t stop you, but…”

I lifted his hand to my face, leaning into it through the plastic and rubber of the mask. “I know. This is what I do, Ash. Who I am.”

“I know, but…There’s something I need to say before you start carving into that monster.”

I hesitated, looking up at him, expecting the worst. My throat tightened. What if this was the moment he decided he couldn’t stay with me? That I was too much?

His grip tightened, and he held my eyes as he declared, “I love you.”

The words hit with all the force of a bullet, stealing my breath. He’d never said that before, even though I knew… Somewhere deep down, I knew. Hearing them now, when we were both wearing gas masks in the sub-basement of some fashion designer’s evil lair about to torture a man to death… It was so perfectly us that it made my heart ache.

“You do?” I squeaked in answer, my voice painfully weak.

“Of course I do,” Ash replied as if it were an insult that I’d ever considered otherwise. “I love everything about you.”

I arched an eyebrow. “You know I’m crazy, right? That my brain is fifty shades of fuckery? I like doing this, Ash. I like killing people, hunting them down, playing these games. I’m always going to be like this. I—”

He stopped me by yanking me closer and tilting my chin up to look at him. “You’re my kind of crazy, baby.”

I wanted to kiss him so badly, to grab him by the hair and yank until he bit me hard enough to leave another mark. If taking off our gas masks wouldn’t have resulted in us passing out, Imight’ve risked it. Instead, I leaned forward, clutching his jacket and letting our masks touch. “I love you too, Daddy. So fucking much.”

“Of course you do,” he repeated with a smirk before giving me a playful shove. “Now, go do what needs to be done. I’ll be right on the other side of the door if you need me.”

I nodded, not trusting my voice. He squeezed my shoulder and gave my ass one final pat before heading toward the door. He paused there, looking back at me briefly. Then he was gone.

I turned back to find Misha watching me.

“You’re so lucky to have that,” he said softly. “Someone who wants you even knowing all that you’re capable of…”

I squeezed his shoulder. “We’ll find your someone too,” I promised. “After this is done. After you’re free.”

A soft moan from the table drew our attention. Roche was starting to wake, their eyelids fluttering as awareness returned. Now came the fun part.

“Ready?” I asked Misha as I moved to the surgical tray, hands skimming over the vast array of tools we’d gathered.

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