Page 71 of The Villain

I drew the razor down my cheek and grimaced when I nicked my skin. “Shit…” I stared in the mirror as a small drop of blood appeared near my jaw. “Fucking Cian. Can’t get a decent electric razor. I’m in the fucking Stone Age here,” I muttered.

Cian was off somewhere in this building they called Frank, apparently short for Frankenstein because it was a combination of different construction projects over the years. Since learning his competition, the Bonnams, had been taken out the same night he was supposed to die, Cian had been working with his men to find out who was trying to take over his territory. Then there was Rank, who was still in hiding. Despite Cian insisting Rank wasn’t smart enough to plan anything, I suspected he was behind both the shed fireandthe assassination attempt on Cian. I was just glad that particular plan had gotten fucked.

I understood Cian’s hesitation. This crew, unlike what I’d built, was family. And even if Rank was a nasty piece of shit, the betrayal cut Cian deep. I could tell he didn’t want to believe it was true.

It took some of his attention away from me, which I convinced myself was a good thing Because that stupid ember of hope in my chest still hadn’t gone out. Every nightmare now ended with Cian opening the door, and that hope had grown into a small flame that refused to fucking die. It was dangerous, and it pissed me the hell off.

This morning, Cian had coerced me into another workout session in the garage, which had turned into a daily occurrence. He insisted I needed to heal, but the only reason I agreed to go was because Cian needed to strengthen his shoulder, and he worked out longer when I was with him. I’d planned on taking a casual stroll on the treadmill. Instead, Cian had me lifting weights. He’d put me on a whole training plan, like some overzealous personal trainer, and suddenly I was thinking ahead to building muscle and increasing endurance.

Why? Because Cian was a hope enabler. He’d stoked that fucking flame in my chest all on his own. I hated him for it.

I finished shaving after managing to cut myself only one more time. I wiped my face just as the beep of the front door code echoed through the apartment. I stalked out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a pair of boxer briefs, planning to give Cian a piece of my mind about his shitty choice in razors. Except it wasn’t Cian who stepped through the door. It was Jace.

We both stopped abruptly, staring at each other. I checked his hands for a knife, a gun, or any other fun surprises, but found nothing but his fists. Armed with only a damp hand towel stained with my own blood, I dropped my hands to my sides.

Jace seemed surprised to see me, which was odd. He knew I stayed in Cian’s apartment and never left except for workouts in the garage. While I healed, Cian had been extremely protective. And while this apartment could’ve felt like a prison, it felt like a safe haven I wasn’t eager to leave. Jace’s presence now intruded on that safety.

He schooled his features and cleared his throat before speaking. “Hey.”

“Hey,” I said, keeping my guard up.

He scratched at his chin and tugged at the diamond studs in his ears. Then he slowly slid a hand into the pocket of his jeans. I expected something designed to kill me. So when he pulled out a deck of playing cards, I frowned.

He smacked the cards onto his palm a few times like they were a pack of cigarettes. “Wanna play?”

Wanna play…?

I was in the fucking twilight zone. No way this kid, who’d love nothing more than to put me in the ground, wanted to play cards. This was a trick.

“What’s the catch?”

Now it was his turn to frown. “Catch?”

“If I lose, you get to stab me?”

Jace rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”

“You want me dead. Yet here you are, without Cian, asking me to play cards. I’m allowed to think this is a little fucking weird.”

“I know it’s weird, you asshole,” he huffed, and his voice rose in frustration. “Apparently, you’re gonna be around for a while. Cian’s my brother, and...” He threw up his hands. “I’mtryinghere.”

“Trying what?”

“To find a redeeming quality in you.”

That made me snort. “You’ll be looking for a while.”

He lifted his chin in defiance. “I’ve got time.”

The stubborn way he held my gaze made me pause. I didn’tneedto get on Jace’s good side. Cian hadn’t made that a condition of keeping me around a little longer. But I didn’t want to be at odds with him, either. Cian clearly loved his brother. And seeing the way Jace interacted with both Cian and Rhystugged at a part of me I thought I’d forgotten. I was like Jace once. A discarded boy who’d found his family in two trailer park neighbors. Conrad and Ben had treated me like their own brother, and those relationships had meant everything to me.

Until I’d fucked them up beyond repair.

I didn’t even remember what it was like to havefriends. For the past ten years, I’d only had my employees. And they’d all feared me. Jace was probably a decade younger than me, but here he was. Trying. I could do this. For Cian. Maybe a bit for me, too. A reminder of what it felt like to be part of something good rather than destructive.

I tossed the towel into the bathroom and snatched a pair of pants off the bed. “What did you have in mind? I’ll warn you, I have a great poker face.”

When Jace’s shoulders dropped in relief and he flashed me a grin, I knew I’d said the right thing. I finished getting dressed as Jace sank down onto the couch and began shuffling cards on the coffee table.