28. Twenty-Seven

Maxime handed me a keycard with clearance to the first six floors and the parking garage. It didn’t open the exit doors, a fact that he made sure I understood. Even if it had, what was I going to do? Run for it? I couldn’t drive, which was ironic considering how much I loved working on cars. The work was what I missed the most out of my old life.

Old life, I scoffed as I slid my keycard through the garage reader. How many old lives did I have now? How many times had I hit the reset button? Once when I was fourteen and I had my first psychotic break. That was the first time my life was divided into a before and after. Before the voices, the most remarkable thing about me was being a triplet. After, I barely existed until Boone.

Boone was my second dividing line. Before I met Boone, I was unlovable, or at least that’s what I thought. He loved me anyway. I’d never know why or what I’d done to deserve him.

And now I was living through a third division, deciding who I would be when the line solidified. Was I Xion Loomis, the angry, solitary man who gave a middle finger to the world because it fucked him over first? Or was I Xion Laskin, vigilante? Maybe I’d be better off as Xion Caisse-Etremont, the son of a billionaire who could have anything he wanted?

Anything except the right answer to the simplest question in the universe: Who am I supposed to be?

The door slid open, and I stepped through only to halt on the other side. I’d been expecting a normal garage, if a little larger than normal. Definitely not a parking garage full of luxury cars. Stretched out in front of me were cars in every parking spot ranging from an ugly white Rolls Royce Ghost to a bright red Lamborghini Huracán and everything in between. The floor sloped up and down in either direction, revealing a floor above and below, also presumably full of more cars.

I walked down the line of cars, running my hand over the hoods one at a time. There were more cars in that garage than anyone needed, and yet I knew they were all Algerone’s. The amount of wealth contained in that collection of cars alone was so ridiculous it was offensive.

Music boomed from the floor above, some country song with a heavy bass line. I frowned and pulled my hand away from the Bugatti I’d been admiring, making my way up the ramp to the second floor, which was mostly SUVs and trucks. The music was coming from a jet-black truck with custom tinted windows, which had been rolled down most of the way. Xander lounged on the hood, leaning against the windshield, one knee crossed over the other. He flipped through a stapled stack of papers, sucking on another lollipop and bouncing his foot to the beat.

He pulled the sucker from between his lips with a pop that echoed through the parking garage. “Did you know that Agent Valentine’s first name is Ashley? Special Agent Ashley Valentine.”

“That’s a mouthful,” I said, tucking my hands into my pockets.

“That’s why I call him Daddy.” Xander smirked and wiggled his eyebrows.

I wrinkled my nose. “He’s old enough to be your dad.”

“Says the guy who’s dating someone sixteen years older than him. And Valentine’s only forty-one.”

“That’s literally more than twice your age, Xander. He’s probably got kids your age.”

He flipped the pages closed. “No kids, but two ex-wives. Age is just a number. Like someone’s net worth. Ashley Valentine’s net worth, by the way, is thirty-six billion dollars, which is exactly fifty-two billion less than Daddy Dearest, making our loving father one of the top fifteen wealthiest people in the world. Of course, most of that is tied up in corporations and investments.”

I jerked my chin toward him. “What are you reading?”

“Agent Valentine’s FBI personnel file,” he replied, holding it up.

“Isn’t that classified?”

He rolled his eyes and set the papers down. “Classified doesn’t mean unhackable. Xavier had that ten minutes after we left the room with the guy. It’s interesting reading, by the way. His family made its fortune during prohibition shacking up with bootleggers running illegal booze across state lines. He’s old money. Not like us.”

“Us?” I crossed my arms. “So you’re throwing your lot in with him?”

Xander slid down from the truck to stand in front of me. “I’m not throwing my weight behind anybody, Xion. He’s our father.”

“He’s a dick.”

“So are you, but I put up with you.” He shrugged and leaned against the grill. “Have you even heard his offer? All he wants is to give us an inheritance.”

“In exchange for what? I don’t care how much he’s worth, or how much shit he owns. There’s always a price for loyalty, Xander.”

“Is that how it is with you and Boone?”

I clenched my jaw. “Boone’s not like that.”

Xander shook his head slowly. “You want so badly to think the worst of people. I get that you’ve been through hell, but you can’t mistrust everyone. Not everyone is out to get you, Ten.”

“The man’s a psychopath. He’s literally incapable of understanding love. His idea of being a good dad was to put a bounty on our heads, and you’re ready to forgive him already? For what? A new iPhone and a truck?” I gestured to the vehicle behind him.

His cheeks turned red, but I couldn’t tell if it was from anger or embarrassment. Xander took a step forward, standing almost nose to nose with me. “Go on then. Say it. Call me a cheap whore.”

I frowned. “I’d never say that to you.”

“You don’t have to say it out loud. I can hear you thinking it. You and everybody else. You all take one look at me and that’s all you see. I’m a slut. An addict. A slacker who cares more about Prada bags, clubbing, and getting high than people.” He shook his head. “You don’t know the first thing about me, so stop pretending like you do.”

He pushed past me, knocking his shoulder into mine as he did. He leaned in through the truck’s driver’s side window and pulled the keys out of the ignition before starting to walk away.

Xander stopped when Algerone stepped around the corner carrying some papers.

Algerone glanced between us with a frown. “Is there a problem here, boys?”

“No,” we both said quickly.

He eyed us again before nodding. “Well, in that case, I have your assignments for the operation.” He licked his thumb before peeling off the first page, walking over, and holding it out to me.

I took the page and skimmed it with a frown while he handed the other to Xander. “Assistant to Agent Valentine? What the fuck is this?”

Algerone tucked one hand into his pocket. “I had a team of experts assess everyone’s strengths and weaknesses. Roles were assigned based on the results.”

“And you think I’m only good for fetching coffee for the fed?” I crumpled the paper and threw it at his feet. “Fuck you.”

“Xion, you’ve been through a lot the last few months. They felt it would be best for you to be in a low-stress position, somewhere close at hand rather than out in the field.”

“You mean somewhere the voices in my head won’t fuck shit up for you,” I scoffed.

Algerone narrowed his eyes. “The risk assessment team analyzed—”

“Fuck your risk assessment team! And fuck you!”

He sighed and bent over to pick up the crumpled page, smoothing it over the truck’s hood as he spoke. “I’m sorry if your feelings are hurt, but data doesn’t lie. This is the best role for you. I promise you that your diagnosis was only a minor factor. These operations are delicate, Xion. What would you have me do?”

“What’s he doing?” I gestured to Xander.

Xander lowered the page and glanced at Algerone, his face carefully neutral. “I’m meeting with Kevin Calcin so the sniper can take the shot.”

I glared at Algerone. So much for not wanting to put his children in harm’s way. He was perfectly willing to dangle Xander out there, but not me?

“Xander has years of experience playing the part of a lure,” Algerone explained, as if we were talking about a grocery list and not luring a man to his death. Granted, the guy was a shitbag and he deserved to die, but it was chilling how little emotion there was behind my father’s words. “He’s the best suited for the job.”

“But—”

He cut me off, holding the wrinkled page out to me. “I expect you to report to your station at oh-six hundred tomorrow morning. Security will be at your door to escort you. I suggest you turn in early.” When I didn’t take the page, he folded it and put it in my pocket. “After the job is done, the five of us are going to have a little sit down.”

“Five?” Xander asked.

“You three boys, me, and Maxime. He runs everything for me. I’d be lost without him. He’ll definitely have to be there when you sign the paperwork.”

“What paperwork?” I demanded.

“I’m making you boys beneficiaries of my estate,” he said as if we should’ve already known. “There’s a trust fund for each of you that will mature on your twenty-first birthday, so there’s some paperwork associated with that, and, of course, I’d like to negotiate some other items, such as a legal name change if you’re open to it. You’re not Laskins, and you’re certainly not a Loomis, Xion. You’re my sons, and your names should reflect that.”

Xander looked at me with a frown that said he wasn’t looking forward to that conversation any more than I was. I didn’t care what he was offering. I didn’t want to be Xion Caisse-Etremont, and I wasn’t Xion Laskin. Not anymore. Yet he was right about one thing. I wasn’t Xion Loomis either.

“Now,” Algerone said adjusting his jacket, “I have an appointment with an ambassador in twenty minutes I need to get ready for. Unless you boys need anything else from me?”

Xander smacked his lips around his sucker. “Nope. We’re good.”

Algerone’s eyes fell on me. “Don’t be late tomorrow, Xion,” he said and walked off without another word.

What an asshole! I clenched my fists, fuming mad. I growled and pulled the paper out of my pocket, fishing around in my pocket for my lighter. Before I could set the paper on fire though, Xander held his out to me.

“Want to trade?” he asked.

I paused, the lighter in one hand and the crumpled page in the other. “What?”

“Me. You. Switcheroo like when we were kids.” He held the paper out more insistently. “I’ll go get cozy with Daddy Valentine, and you can go to Louisville to deal with Pedo Kevin.”

I stared at the offered page. “Really?”

“Yes, really! Now take the paper. My arm’s getting tired.”

I frowned and we swapped pages. “But won’t someone stop us?”

There was no way we could switch places without getting caught. I was a good fifteen pounds heavier than Xander, and my hair was shorter. Plus, he dressed like… Well, I’d never wear low-rise jeans and a pink crop top.

“We’ll switch clothes,” he said and tilted his head to the side. “I have some sweats and a hoodie that should fit you. A quick pass with some clippers and our hair will look the same. If we keep our heads down, no one will be the wiser until it’s too late and you’re already in Louisville.”

Something clenched in my chest. “You’d cut your hair for this?”

Xander rolled his eyes. “It’s hair, dumbass. It grows back. Besides, you’d be surprised at what I’d do to get another chance to bask in the presence of Daddy Valentine’s perfect ass. I mean, did you see that thing? It’s like angels came down from heaven with the perfect round ass and said, ‘Here you go, Xander. We made this just for you.’”

I snorted. “I don’t believe in angels or God or any of that shit.”

“Neither do I, but I’d get on my knees for that,” he said with a wink. “So? How about it? Wanna switch?”

I considered him for a minute. What was the worst that could happen? If we got found out, would they call off the operation? I doubted it, not with as much planning as they’d put into it. If they canceled once it got going, they’d never get another chance. We just needed to keep them in the dark until I got to Louisville. Then I’d show Algerone I wasn’t useless and that his data was bullshit. Plus, Xander would get what he wanted, which was to flirt with the fed.

“I’ll do it,” I said, “but I’m not wearing heels.”

“Pity. You’ve got killer calves.” He sighed and popped the sucker between his lips again. “We’re staying on the sixth floor. You’ll need to crash with me and Xavier tonight so we can get you ready. It’ll be like old times.” He hesitated, then winced. “No offense, but your boyfriend can’t come. I’m sure he’s great, but…”

I nodded. Boone might try to stop me. He’d think he was keeping me out of harm’s way, but I needed to do this.

“Can Xavier keep his mouth shut?” I asked. He was the only one I was worried about.

“He will if he doesn’t want me to post a certain video of him online.” Xander smirked and waved as Boone came around the corner with a paper bag in hand. “See you later, Ten.”

“Later, Dee.” I waved.

Xander paused to give Boone a once over before he walked away, heels clicking against the concrete.

Boone shuddered. “I hate it when he does that. Makes me feel like one of those lobsters in a tank at the fancy seafood restaurant.”

“That’s Xander for you,” I said with a shrug.

“So, Ten? Is that a nickname or…?”

I chuckled and started walking down the line of cars at Boone’s side. “It’s this dumb thing from when we were kids. We had this secret language between us that nobody else understood. I don’t remember most of it, but the nicknames stuck. Kind of like you and your code names.”

He nodded. “Oh, that reminds me.” He reached into the paper bag he was carrying on his wrist. He drew out a chain length leash with a black leather handle. “They have a little pharmacy store next to the gift shop on the bottom floor. I picked this up and they had one of those machines that makes custom dog tags.”

My heart fluttered when he pulled out a silver square of metal and placed it in my palm. I turned it over, and my heart almost stopped when I saw what it was engraved with: Property of Boone Calhoun.

I looped a hand around the back of his head and pulled him into a kiss, dipping my tongue between his lips for a quick taste that left me wanting more.

“Put it on me,” I insisted once we parted.

I tipped my head back to give him better access to the collar. He fumbled to get the tag on at first, but once he did, something in his face changed. He ran his fingers over the tag, almost seeming sad.

“What’s wrong?” I turned away, eying myself in the mirror of the nearby Bentley Bentayga. The car looked spotless. It’d probably never even been driven.

Boone sighed. “It don’t feel right, asking you to choose between them and me.”

I turned around. “They don’t own me, Boone.”

He eyed the tag he’d just put on me with his brow furrowed.

“It’s different with you. I chose this. I never chose to be a Laskin or a Caisse-Etremont.” I looked away with a sigh. “I’m not Xion Loomis anymore either. I’ve outgrown all those names. None of them fit.”

A moment of silence passed before Boone took my hands. “What about Xion Calhoun? How’s that sound?”

My eyes snapped to his, a chill running through me. “What did you just say?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “I just figure if you don’t like any of them other last names, maybe you could try mine on? See if it fits you better?”

Xion Calhoun. I liked the sound of that. Better than any of the other last names I’d used. It felt right.

“I love it,” I said and pulled his lips to mine.

Boone broke the kiss almost as soon as it got started. “Just so we’re on the same page, that was supposed to be a marriage proposal.”

“And just so you know, that was supposed to be a yes.”

I pulled Boone into another kiss that quickly grew more heated. He pushed in against me and I wound up pressed against the hood of the Bentley, which put a wicked thought in my head.

I put a hand to Boone’s chest, pushing him back a little. “I have an idea.”

“Okay…”

I gave him a sultry smirk and took his hand, leading him around to the back seat of the Bentley SUV. I tugged on the door handle and grinned when I found it was unlocked. They probably all were. After all, why lock your cars when they’re behind a dozen other locked doors?

“Come on,” I said and pulled him into the back seat with me. As soon as his ass hit the seat, I climbed on top of him, straddling his lap, and yanked my shirt over my head.

He frowned and looked around. “Here? You know there’s probably cameras here, Xion.”

“Good. I want him to see who ruined the interior of his stupid Bentley.” I tossed my shirt aside and pinched his chin, slotting my lips over his again. This time, when I slipped my tongue between his lips, he couldn’t help but groan.

He lifted his hips, pressing his hardening cock into me, lost in the kiss. I slid my hands under his shirt, running my fingers over his stomach and chest. God, touching him felt so good, so right. His hands went to my ass, squeezing hard. We parted only to frantically tear off the rest of our clothes.

“Fuck,” Boone muttered as I straddled his lap again. “Lube?”

I twisted to grab my pants from the pristine floorboards, fishing out the little bottle of lube I had in there. Boone wasn’t the only one who’d made a trip down to the first-floor drugstore. When I turned back around, I shoved the bottle at him and captured his mouth in another claiming kiss.

Rather than use the lube I’d given him, Boone set it aside for the moment. I almost growled at him to ask him what he was doing until I saw him reaching for the bag. My cock throbbed when he drew out the leash and held it up.

God, yes. I’d been fantasizing about him leashing me up ever since I’d seen that picture in the magazine. I leaned back, presenting my neck once more for him to hook the leash onto the collar.

“Good pup,” Boone said.

The minute I heard the metal snap close, a full body shudder went through me and I bit my lip. Heat rushed to my head and to my dick, both throbbing in response. I couldn’t stop myself from letting out a needy whine and grinding against him. My lips parted, the need to beg for him sitting on the tip of my tongue.

Boone put a finger over my lips. “Be a good pup and be patient. Sit pretty for me while I enjoy this.” He lowered his head and closed his lips around a nipple, making me squirm.

My fingernails dug into his shoulders as I resisted the urge to grind against his rigid length. He’d ordered me to be good. I could be good for Boone. I was his, after all, and I wanted so desperately to be good for him. He deserved that much after all he’d gone through for me.

When he moved to the other nipple, though, I couldn’t take it. I reached down, wrapping my hand around my cock only to have him slap it away.

“Bad pup. I said sit pretty. That means no touching what’s mine unless I tell you to.”

I whined and put my arms around his neck, leaning in to let my head fall against his shoulder. His scent filled my nose and my eyes fluttered closed. If I couldn’t have what I wanted, at least I could have that. Boone’s scent was intoxicating. It reminded me of home, of safety, of us. I never wanted to be far from it again.

“Please,” I pleaded. “Please fuck me?”

“Not yet. Be patient.” Boone opened the bottle of lube, spreading a generous amount on his fingers before sliding them into the crevice between my cheeks.

I groaned as he found my hole, opening me with first one slick finger and then two. I tried, but it was impossible not to push myself further down onto his fingers and, for once, he didn’t stop me. Boone let me fuck myself on his fingers while he kissed anywhere he could reach, tugging at the exposed skin with his teeth until it ached.

“I’m ready,” I said after a few minutes. I knew I was supposed to be good and be patient, but he was making it difficult. I’d been ready since he snapped the leash on me and called me his good pup. To soften his resolve, I licked his cheek before nipping the wet stripe I’d left behind while I slid my thumb over the slick head of his cock.

He nodded and pulled his fingers free before jerking his head to the side. “Hands and knees like a good pup.”

I scrambled over his lap, pausing briefly when the leash pulled tight to look back at him. He grinned, winked, and loosened his hold on the leash. Fucking bastard, but I wouldn’t expect anything less from Boone. He liked to remind me he was in charge, even though we both knew he really wasn’t. In the end, I always got what I wanted, and what I wanted was to ruin that Bentley’s ridiculously expensive upholstery with cum stains.

Boone popped open the lube a second time, coating his cock while I bent over as much as I could. For all my complaining about the Bentley, the back seat did have plenty of room. Boone nudged my knees further apart. My eyes fluttered closed as the head of his cock pressed in. The leash tugged, pulling the collar tight around my throat until I leaned back. We both groaned as his cock slid in. Fuck, that felt good. There was nothing in the world like that initial shock of pleasure and mild pain.

He sank in until his hips were resting against my ass, but he made no effort to move. I couldn’t take it. I wiggled my ass, trying to tell him what I wanted.

He replied with a gentle tug to the leash when I pulled away, yanking me back. “That’s it. Fuck yourself on my cock, Pup. Good boy.” His hold on the leash loosened as he reached down to spread me open, watching himself slide in and out.

I dug my teeth into my bottom lip, fingers curling around the door handle. As spacious as the back seat was, I wished for more room, the comfort of his bed and the messy bedroom. That’s where we belonged, not in the back seat of a luxury SUV.

Boone started moving his hips, and the friction was almost too much. I closed my eyes and focused on the pull of the collar as he tugged me back to meet him, the weight of it as it dug into my throat, choking me just enough. The silver tag marking me as his property jingled like music against the percussion of our bodies coming together again and again.

He shifted with a grunt and I let out a desperate whine as he started hitting the spot that sent pleasure buzzing through me. Boone spat in his palm and reached around to start jerking my cock in time with his movements. “Come for me, Pup.”

I arched my back and dug my teeth harder into my bottom lip, trying to hold off, despite the direct order not to. I wanted this to last, even if I knew it wouldn’t.

But we have forever. The thought sent a surge of warmth through my chest. I can have this anytime I want. Boone is mine for good now.

He drove his hips into mine harder, hard enough to bruise. Hard enough that I threw a hand out to brace myself against the window. It was too much, too good. I couldn’t hold back anymore. I came so hard that it almost felt like a punch straight to the balls, if a punch was made of pleasure. My head jerked back, and the collar pulled tight, sending strange sparks of light dancing through my vision. I registered vaguely that it was probably due to a lack of oxygen, but I didn’t care. Boone could’ve choked the life out of me and I wouldn’t have cared. With every thrust of his body into mine, more cum spilled out of me, my orgasm extending until it was painful. I whimpered and tried to twist, but he wasn’t having it. Boone’s thumb kept sliding over the oversensitive head of my cock no matter how I tried to squirm away. My mind was torn in two between the need to get away and the desire for him to never fucking stop.

“Boone!” I gasped, my mind blank of everything but the pleasure overload.

His movements got jerky and uneven before he stilled, and I was finally able to collapse against the door, ass in the air while he filled it with his cum.

Boone fell on top of me a minute later, breathing hard, and we stayed like that for a little while, trying to catch our breaths. His heart pounded against my back, slowly getting back into a normal rhythm.

“Shit,” he managed eventually and kissed my sweaty back. “You okay?”

I started to say something, but my throat was so raw, I had to pause and swallow first. “If you move, I’ll kill you.”

“I think I’ve heard that one before.” He chuckled and kissed my shoulder. “My knees are starting to hurt.”

I let out a pouty huff as he pulled free of my body.

He fell back against the opposite door with a small grunt, and I started to get up. “No, don’t move. This is the best part. Let me watch it run out of you.”

I smirked and reached back to spread my cheeks. “You could put that mouth to better use and help me clean it up.”

He sighed. “As tempting as that is, my head’s killing me. I think I need a nap. Today was a lot, and tomorrow, I’ve got to shoot.”

I frowned and sat up. Boone was lying against the opposite door with a hand on his chest, eyes closed. I stretched out on top of him, letting my chin rest on his sternum. “Are you going to be ok to do that? I mean, what if you miss?”

His eyes opened a crack. “I won’t. Just need a little nap.” His eyes slid closed again. “Should probably wipe down the upholstery or it’ll be ruined,” he muttered, half asleep.

I smiled to myself. That’s the idea, I thought, but I let him sleep.