Page 23 of His Enforcer

“Vik, pull the car over,” Luca growls as we make our way to the first club of the morning. It’s raining slightly, and the road we’re on is narrow with no good place to stop. I’m not pulling over. We’d die if I did as he said.

“Why the fuck should I?” I grumble. Asshole just demands shit for no reason and expects me to obey.

My cock might like that, but my brain does not.

Mostly.

Okay, my brain likes it just fine, but I’m feeling obstinate after that phone call last night. He knew what he was doing. He can fuck off for all I care. The fact that I have to be in the car with him all damn day is making me fucking miserable.

Luca reclines his seat as far as he can and points at the windshield.

“A spider. Now pull the fuck over before I put a bullet in your brain.”

I stare at the little black thing moving around on the glass and bite back a laugh.

“Hell. No.”

He turns slowly to stare at me, his hands flexing on his lap.

“You love that word, don’t you?No. Makes you feel powerful. You want me to give you a spanking?”

I shudder slightly, wanting that so damn bad, but refusing to admit it. Instead, I say, “When you’re an asshole, yeah, I do love that word.No. Deal with the spider. It won’t fucking hurt you. It’s just building a web. Minding its own business.”

“I hate spiders.”

“I know. You’re a baby about them.”

His face pales and he swallows roughly. “I don’t fucking like them.”

Ignoring him, I continue driving, my eyes on the road, the swish of the wipers loud in the cab.

“Pull over, Viktor.”

“If you say please,” I murmur.

His knuckles crack, but then he utters it, a small “please.”

That makes my heart flop around in my chest and my stomach flutter. He said please. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him say that. It makes me slightly uncomfortable. Why does he hate spiders so much? That’s something I’ve been wondering since I first captured one for him. I held it in my palm, and he inhaled sharply.

“It’s going to bite you.”

“No, it won’t.”

I tossed it outside and when I turned around to roll my eyes at him for being such a wimp, he was gone. From then on, I’m the one he goes to when he needs to rid his space of them. Not that it happens often, but he obviously can’t cope.

As soon as I can manage it, I pull off at the next exit, reaching over and grabbing the spider between my fingers, and tossing it out onto the ground. I’m not going to kill it this time. Just let it go. I’m benevolent like that.

“Happy now?” I ask, and Luca nods.

“Yes.”

He doesn’t thank me, not that he ever does. Asshole.

When I finally start the car back up, Luca’s eyes are closed, his breathing slightly labored.

“Why do you hate spiders so much?” I ask, and then add, “And fire?”

Why the hell not go there? I’ve never asked him this, I’ve always just taken care of him without questioning it. But with the way he’s been treating me lately, why be nice and accommodating?

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