Page 55 of His Enforcer

Maybe Ishouldjust fuck him.

But I shake that thought away. I won’t do that again.

I can’t.

Everyone straightens as I approach and their chatting fades until it’s just the wind rustling the trees. I glance up and see the dark gray clouds hovering above us. Seems rain may be coming once again.

“Vik, let’s go,” I say and then turn around, knowing that he’s following me. I can tell by the tingle blooming across my skin, the way the back of my neck prickles from his glare.

When we make it to the SUV, Viktor is deathly silent, getting in the driver’s seat and following the directions I input into the navigation system. We move through the busy streets and onto the freeway, moving through puddles and around slow trucks.

“Where the fuck are we going?” he asks as rain spatters on the windshield.

“Your job is to not ask questions.”

“Fuck that,” he says as I slide a cigarette out of my pocket and hold it to my lips.

“I said I wouldn’t do that anymore,” he bites out, but I can feel him start to break. He can’t help himself when it comes to me.

With a sigh, he lights it for me, and I inhale deeply, the nicotine sinking into me. Heavenly. Almost as good as him sucking my dick.

The thought of it, him between my legs has my cock perking up.

Perhaps I should make him do it again.

Or maybe what I’m about to do will satiate the lust. Maybe Anthony is wrong and fucking him won’t be better for me.

It ruined me once.

I won’t go there again.

“Park here,” I say when we pull up to a warehouse. I point to a concrete wall and two crooked parking lines. Viktor maneuvers between them, and I hop out, grabbing the duffle bag and moving toward the entrance, rain pelting me as I go.

As soon as we push inside, it’s humid and hot, the scent of blood and sweating bodies permeating the space. The sounds of cheering and skin and bones being pummeled ricochet off the metal siding, and I can feel Viktor’s look of concern drilling into my chest.

I brush it off. I don’t need anyone worried about me.

I’ve been taking care of myself for far too long.

We move through the crowd, some people recognizing me and slapping me on the back, jeers and words of approval as I move toward the changing rooms.

“What the fuck is this?” Viktor hisses when we’re finally alone.

“Nothing you need to worry about. Just stand there and look pretty.”

His jaw tightens, his frustration evident in the way his hands bunch near his sides. Fucking love it, love that I can get to him.

I change quickly, pulling on just a pair of athletic shorts and nothing else, my chest and feet bare. My tattoos and scars are on display, and I see the way he looks at me.

He likes what he sees.

He always has.

I slide a mouthguard between my teeth and grin at Viktor, who narrows his eyes at me.

“You’re doing some kind of fight club shit?” he hisses as he follows me back out toward the crowd.

I just wink at him as I make my way over to the man who runs this—Agro, a mean son of a bitch with a penchant for blood and broken bones. He’s made quite the living off this. I don’t blame him for leaning into it. And I appreciate that he’s offered me a chance to fight and get this anger out of me.

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