Page 175 of Boys Who Taint

Apollo

The frantic knockingon my door has me hurrying out of my much-needed bath with a simple towel wrapped around my waist. There goes my moment of leisure. Whoever is at my door better be prepared for some accidental slip of the dick.

“What do you w—”

Aspen Caruso is standing in front of my bedroom door completely covered in blood with a wounded Grey Westbrook on her arms.

“What the hell?” I mutter.

“Oh my—fuck—” Grey immediately turns his head at the sight of my bulging everything, but the flush on his face tells me enough.

“You wanted to talk, so let’s talk,” Aspen says.

I pull them inside, then grasp her face, turning it to all sides so I can inspect her for damage. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” she replies, trying to swat me away.

“Then whose blood is this?”

She blushes. “No comment.”

Now I’m really intrigued.

I stare at Grey, but he won’t budge either. They’re conspiring together. A wide grin spreads on my cheeks. I knew she was fiery.

“Stop staring,” she says.

“Wait, how did you even get inside?”

“I’m a Phantom, remember? People let me in,” Grey responds.

“Oh, right, forgot.” I laugh, but I’m the only one, and that’s sort of stupid, so I cut it off real quick. “This isn’t what I imagined when I told you to come find me.”

“We need your help,” she says as she puts him down on my big leather chair in the corner, ruining the fabric with blood stains that aren’t hers.Goddammit. “He got shot.”

I narrow my eyes. “Since when is that my problem?”

“Since you owe me,” she says, putting her hands against her waist like she wants to teach me a lesson, and I like the sass.

I tilt my head. “And what makes you think I can help?”

She rips open his pants from the bottom and shows me the gnarly wound. “You have a first-aid degree, right? Help him … and we’re even.”

Even?

I don’t want to be even, but I guess it’ll have to do, considering she probably hates my guts right now because I helped Levi concoct and execute his filthy plan.

But those ocean-blue eyes of hers reflect a kind of smugness I’ve only ever seen in the mirror, and it surprises me.

If the blood on her skin isn’t hers … she killed someone.

I’m impressed.

“All right, Freckles…” I fold my arms. “But there will be a price.”

She rolls her eyes and groans out loud. “Always the fucking blackmailing. Fine. Just fucking do it.”

A filthy, smug smile forms on my face. “Come this way.”

---