Page 9 of His to Take

Ajax watched Dylan closely, his features unreadable. His expression remained stoic, but his eyes betrayed a flicker ofsomething – pity? Sympathy? Or maybe just curiosity, watching Dylan the same way that Dylan used to watch bugs when he was a kid.

The knowledge stung. Dylan felt a surge of desperation, a need to prove Ajax wrong.

But he couldn't.

"You don't know anything about me," he spat, his voice cracking with frustration. He turned abruptly, storming towards the bedroom, desperate to escape the suffocating reality.

He slammed the door shut, shutting Ajax out—

And leaving himself, once again, all alone.

Chapter five

The hotel room was a prison.

Loitering aimlessly in the kitchenette, Dylan sullenly rifled through the sachets of teas and coffees. They did nothing to quench his thirst for something stronger.

He wanted a stiff drink, he wanted to run… but most of all, he wanted revenge on Logan. As he moved around, he winced, an ache still lingering in his throat.

He had to find a way to escape. But Ajax was keeping the door firmly locked, and he'd taken Dylan's phone. There was a phone in the room, but it only dialed to reception — and the bored-sounding staff member on the other end wasn't exactly going to come in guns blazing to help him escape.

A soft rustle of a turning page caught Dylan's attention. He secretly looked over at Ajax. The man sat on the couch, reading a book. His legs were kicked up on the coffee table, relaxed yet somehow still exuding command.

Dylan had been braced for Ajax to hurt him. Everyone knew that the mafia were sadistic, cruel, evil bastards.

But ever since he'd locked Dylan up here, Ajax hadn't done much. He'd stowed his ever-so-secret briefcase under the couch, and then he'd just… hung around, reading his damn book.

No beatings, no torture, no chaining Dylan up.

But somehow, the way Ajax was ignoring Dylan was even worse than that.It made Dylan grit his teeth.

Dylan couldn't help but secretly peek at his mafia captor from behind as he read. The bastard had a rugged masculinity that seemed to radiate from him even when he was just reading a book. The strong curve of his biceps, the broadness of his shoulders, and the steely intensity in his eyes created an air of authority around Ajax that made it impossible for Dylan to look away. It was like being locked up with a lion.

"Is that really all you're going to do?" Dylan asked, irritation lacing his voice.

Ajax didn't bother looking up. "Why don't you try finding something productive to do, kid?"

Dylan rolled his eyes, hating how unaffected Ajax seemed by his presence. He leaned against the counter, arms folded across his chest. "I'm bored out of my mind here."

"Your boredom is not my problem," Ajax replied without missing a beat, turning a page in his book and effectively shutting down any further attempts at conversation.

"Fine," Dylan muttered under his breath, frustrated with the lack of response from the older man. He tried to focus on anything other than the shape of Ajax's muscular shoulders. "I'll just find my own entertainment."

"Good," Ajax responded. The finality in his voice made it clear that the conversation was over.

Dylan ground his teeth. He may have been a captive, but he refused to be ignored by the man who held him here.

He was used to being ignored by older men. They liked to use him, their greedy hands pawing at his body like it was nothing more than an object to satisfy their lustful needs -- then they'd turn around and kick him out when they were done, already thinking about the next conquest.

He always knew it was coming, but it left him feeling empty and discarded anyway.

If he had enough money to hit up a shrink, they'd probably tell him that he chose men like that on purpose, knowing that they wouldn't try to get closer to him. Some shit like that.

But Ajax was different to all those anonymous men. There was no insecurity or desperation in the way he carried himself. He exuded confidence and power, making him all the more attractive and infuriating. Ajax seemed to have won some unspoken battle by not succumbing to the same weaknesses as those other men.

How dare he ignore Dylan, too.

"Hey," Dylan called out, attempting to sound casual, "you know, when it comes to this kind of thing, this isn't my first rodeo."

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