Page 43 of Duke of Ruin

“More fucking lies,” I growl, and his breath catches.

“It won’t happen again,” he says without moving, but I don’t believe him. I want to hurt him. I want to hurt him the way he’s hurt me, but I can’t. I love him too much for that, so I grab the back of his neck and pull him into a crushing kiss. My dick instantly hardens as I push my tongue into his mouth. His hands fly to my face and he kisses me back, though it’s more akin to a fight than intimacy. I spin him around and shove him against the wall, then force myself against him. His cock presses into me, straining against his pants. I unbuckle them and let it free, my breath catching. I take his shaft in my hand, then lean in to bite his neck as I stroke him. It takes almost no time before he’s coming into my hand. I shove my fingers into his mouth, letting him clean his own juices from my hand.

He unbuckles my pants as I force my fingers down his throat. As my dick springs free of my pants I grab the back of his neck and shove him to his knees. He instantly takes my dick in his mouth, and I groan in pleasure. I pull his head into me, listening to him choking on my dick. It hits the back of his throat, but I don’t let up. And I don’t hold back. I fuck his mouth until I’m spurting down his throat and crying out in ecstasy.

From his position on his knees, Noah looks up at me. His expression is hard, but determined. “I love you, Eli, and I’m going to prove it to you.”

Before I can answer, someone starts pounding on the door. I quickly button up my pants and head to the sink to wash my hands while Noah answers the door to find the Witness Protection Coordinator on the other side. I watch Noah interact with him out of the corner of my eye. This is it. Our new lives are about to start.

“Ready?” Noah looks at me with concern shining in his eyes. I nod and adjust the sling over my shoulder.

“Ready.”

15

NOAH

Witness Protection is surprisingly similar to going undercover, except there’s no objective. We were given our new papers and identities as we flew in a tiny charter plane that had to stop for fuel twice before making it across the country. I was given a job teaching criminal science at a local community college, and Eli was tasked with running a machine shop for a local man who’d turned town politician. My mother and sister had been told that I was going deep undercover in South America. I wasn’t going to be allowed contact with them for at least several years, but that was a price I was willing to pay for Eli’s safety.

Stacey briefed us on the fallout after the operation. Gianni was dead and his whole operation had been compromised. She said that the intel she gathered that day led to several other arrests both in Montcove and internationally, but she was still angry that I killed Gianni. I never had any intention of letting him walk away from that fight, though. No one knew that I had a weapon on me, and that was intentional. I didn’t want Eli to change his mind, and I didn’t want Stacey to interfere any more than she had to. I knew that Gianni would just pull strings from behind bars. I’ve seen it too many times. Eli and I would be living the rest of our lives looking over our shoulders and waiting for him to be released or for one of his sycophants to come beating down our door.

Without Gianni or Mario Carbone around to lead, the Carbone family fell apart. At least that’s what it seemed like to Stacey, though I doubt she’d give me the whole story at this point. I told all of this to Eli earlier, but he seemed less than convinced. The coordinator is wrapping up some details with Eli while I wait in the kitchen. We landed pretty late last night and left most of the preparation for today. I’m supposed to meet with the college president tomorrow to talk about my new job, and Eli probably has to talk to his new boss, too.

When I hear the coordinator leave, I expect Eli to come back into the kitchen. After a few minutes with no sign of him, I walk out to find him sitting on the couch, his face weary and torn. My heart lurches as I sit next to him.

“Are you alright?” I ask. I lift my hand to his face. He didn’t shave this morning, so his jaw is rough against my palm as he leans into my touch.

“No,” he whispers. I clench my jaw. I don’t know what to say or do, so I just sit here, waiting. “I’ve just blown up my entire life,” he says without looking at me. “Everyone in my family is either dead or in jail, and my life is over.”

“It’s not over,” I say. “It’s just starting.”

“You don’t understand.” The lines on his face soften, but his words don’t match his expression. He’s right, though. Throughout my career I’ve changed identities half a dozen times. This is a familiar process for me, though I don’t know how to go about it without a clear end goal. For Eli, though, this is completely new territory. He’s always been Eli Carbone, mafia heir and pseudo-celebrity. I wonder whether he’ll be okay with the simple life that’s been curated for us.

“Just give it time,” I say. I feel like I’m begging, but I don’t completely know what for.

“I know,” he says as he leans back. “It’s a lot to process, and I’m still trying to figure it all out.”

“I understand,” I say.

“I don’t think you do.” Eli turns to me. I can’t read the expression on his face, but it’s not pain or regret. At least, that’s what I’m telling myself.

“Then explain it to me,” I say. I watch his jaw tick a few times as he considers his words.

“I’m relieved,” he finally says. My eyebrows shoot up to my hairline. That’s not at all what I expected him to say.

“Relieved?” I echo.

“Yeah,” he says, and a slight smile breaks out across his face. “This job will give me the chance to express myself artistically, though working with metal is completely foreign to me. And the connections with the owner will give me opportunities to work with the Arts Council here in town.”

“That’s good,” I say slowly, though I’m barely following his line of thought.

“There are no expectations on me anymore, Noah,” Eli says, and a slight smile plays at his lips. “I can just be here with you. I don’t have to be afraid of someone seeing us, or what anyone thinks about it, or who my actions might reflect on.” His face visibly brightens as he looks around the room. “Look at this place, Noah,” he continues. “It’s beautiful.”

I take a moment to look around, totrulylook. I’ve been in survival mode for so long it seems that I missed it all—the rustic cabin, the enormous redwoods behind us, and even a creek that runs behind our back porch. Our furniture for right now is sparse and secondhand, but that will be fixed soon enough.

“It’s a fresh start, Noah,” Eli murmurs, and it seems like he’s talking to himself. “I can just be Eli. I don’t have to be Eli Carbone anymore.” He turns to me and his eyes are so full of wonder that my heart skips a beat. They darken slightly as he looks at me, but I expect that by now.

“I know I hurt you, Eli,” I say. I expect him to stop me, but he doesn’t. “I know I hurt you, and I’m so sorry. I understand if it takes you a while to get past it, but I promise I’ll do everything in my power to make you happy. I’ll make sure I deserve your love.”

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