Page 131 of Dukes of Peril

His nose is cold and wet.

“Ugh,” I grunt, even though I instantly reach up to pet him. His rough tongue curls out to lick my finger, then my wrist, the cursive letters penned there smeared and fading.

The last time I saw the guys, they were stripping me out of my clothes, wiping the sweat and dried cum from my skin. Taking stock, I remember that I’m mostly naked, wearing nothing but the pair of panties Sy tossed to Nick last night before putting me here, into Sy’s bed. I remember staring into Nick’s eyes as he pulled me down beside him, fingers stroking my hair until I nodded off.

I touch the empty pillow beside me, but it’s cold, the vacancy settling heavily in my gut. Out in the main room, I hear voices. I know it’s Nick and Sy, but I can’t make out the words. I can hear the tone they’re speaking with though, quiet and focused. There’s a rattle and a squeak, the sound of the main door opening and closing, and then for a second, nothing else.

Luckily, I’m not alone for long. In fact, I doubt even two minutes go by before footsteps sound outside the door, slowing as they approach.

Remy appears, eyes cautious as they fall on mine. He’s wearing a jacket and his boots, so I suppose he was the one who came through the door a couple minutes ago. He looks a mess, the hair framing his face straining against an earlier effort to tuck it behind his ears. From the dark circles beneath his eyes, he hasn’t gotten any sleep yet, and despite staring right into my eyes, he still lifts a tattooed fist to knock on the frame.

“You awake?”

Nodding, I try to sit up, Archie going stiff when I do. I wince at the way the skin on my back smarts. Remy watches this with an agonized expression, jamming his fists into his jacket pockets.

“Need some help?”

I eye the way he’s hovering just outside, like he’s afraid to enter. It’s the only reason I say, “Please?”

He darts over the threshold and finally approaches me, tucking one hand behind my neck while the other grasps my wrist, levering me up into a sitting position. “How bad is it?” he asks, green eyes full of worry.

I make an attempt at a smile. “It’s not so bad.” I’ve had worse, but it’s definitely not something I’d choose to do again.

He deflates, eyes dropping. “Vinny, I’m–”

“Stop.” I give him a stern look. “No more sorries, okay?” Remy did what he could, and I don’t blame him. If Bruce had gotten a hold of that branding tool… I swallow, not wanting to think about it.

The nod he gives me is heavy, and I fully expect to see something painted black today. For the moment, however, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a plastic bag. “I asked around at some of my usual haunts–managed to scare up some goods.”

The bag has pills in it.

My heart sinks.

“Remy,” I start, my voice a mixture of disappointment and alarm.

He holds up a hand. “I know what you’re thinking, but I cleared it with Nicky and Sy, alright? I didn’t involve anyone from North Side. I only asked around the gym, and–hey, look.” He eagerly points to the bag. “I scored you two Percocet from Pauly, one hydrocodone from Laura, and,” he presses his hand to his chest, expression solemn, “you’ll be touched to know that Ballsack generously donated not one, not two, butthreeprescription acid reflux pills.”

Despite the topic and the context, I find a laugh burbling from my throat. “Well, it’ll help one kind of burn, I guess.”

Remy shrugs. “He just wanted to feel useful. I didn’t have the heart to turn him away. He’s kind of precious in that annoying ‘puppy I want to punch’ sort of way.”

I quickly sober, watching him carefully. “You’re supposed to be getting clean.”

He frowns. “I’m not getting clean. Iamclean. Plus, pain pills don’t tempt me at all. I mean…” He scratches the back of his neck, uncharacteristically bashful. “If you needed stimulants, we might have a problem. But I’m not about to stiff my girl on pain management just to get a quick high, Vinny.”

I feel bad for making him test his restraint, but worse for doubting him. “Thank you,” I say, gently opening the bag. He instantly reaches over to the nightstand, producing a bottle of water Sy must have left for me earlier.

After watching me take the pill, Remy inhales deep, shucking off his jacket. “Okay, now lay flat. Let’s see the damage.”

My face falls. “You don’t have to–” But the words bite off, because I see the look on his face, expectant and determined, and realize what this is.

Remy needs to make it better.

Desperately.

Sighing, I turn, scooting Archie aside to lay on my front, baring my back to Remy. I don’t know how bad it looks yet, but from the beat of total silence that greets me, I’m guessing it doesn’t look good.

Remy shakes it off, however, pulling a pair of black latex gloves from the box next to the water bottle. “I’m gonna try to be gentle,” he says, sitting next to me on the bed. “But this cream is top grade. I use it all the time.”

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