Page 152 of Evil Boys

“First you fuck with me, then you feed me. You can’t expect me not to find this all a bit confusing.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” he says. “We can just enjoy each other’s company, and after, you can cut me with your knife if you want.” He whips around his knife as a devilish smile appears on his face. “Or mine. Your choice.”

The salmon slips down my throat. “You’re really weird, you know that?”

“I don’t deny that,” he says, and he plucks one off the board to eat. “I just don’t hide it.”

Why does that feel like a dig toward me?

“Anyway, please don’t be mad at Nathan,” he says, catching me off guard. “He only did those things because he needs to protect Rory.”

“From what?” I ask.

He looks at the door before returning his attention to me. “His parents are real gamblers. They were rich, but they also couldn’t stop spending, and they got involved with the wrong crowd. Kept borrowing money from the wrong people. And when the police caught on to their money laundering schemes, they went down for the crime, leaving Nathan all by himself with his sister.”

Wow. No wonder he’d go that far to keep her out of harm’s way.

“I know he’s done some bad shit, but he did it for the right reasons.”

Suddenly, someone clears their throat, and we both stop eating. Nathan’s leaning with his arms folded against the doorway, his eyes practically shooting bullets at Milo.

And Milo immediately starts cleaning up the counter, putting all the food away with just as much swiftness as he pulled it out for me.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Feeding her,” he replies.

His brow lifts. “Why?”

Why does Nathan make it sound like he thinks Milo had ulterior motives?

He frowns. “She was hungry. Why else?”

He rolls his eyes and sighs out loud.

“Shouldn’t you be with Rory?” Milo asks.

“She’s asleep,” he retorts. “In your bed.”

“Oh …” Milo responds, but then a wicked smile spreads on his face. “Oh, that means I can sleep with you.”

“Not yet,” Nathan says and turns his attention toward me. “Come with me.”

I just stare at him.

Milo points at both of us. “Who? Me or her?”

“Lana.”

I almost want to flip him the bird again, but then I remember the smile on that little girl’s face and just how much their hug affected me.

Maybe I owe it to myself to listen to him.

I hop off the stool and follow Nathan, too curious to know what’s going on to leave now.

He walks me upstairs, hands casually in the pockets of his pants as he strolls to a room not far ahead in the hallway and opens the door for us. I peek over his shoulder at the beautiful blue-painted walls and portraits hanging from the wall, along with a cozy fireplace in the corner. In the middle is a large king-sized bed. But it’s the metal clasps on the wall to the right that draw my attention, along with all the whips, chains, and toys hanging from the hooks.

“What’s this?” I ask, stepping inside slowly.

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