Unhinged (Necessary Evils #1)(12)

He rubbed his face on his pillow like he could wipe away his depression. He’d rather think of Adam. Adam with his big warm hands cupping his face and just moving him where he wanted him, like Noah had been made just for Adam’s pleasure. What did pleasuring Adam look like? His dick hardened. It definitely wanted to know the answer, too.

Even tonight, Adam had taken charge immediately, not because he wanted to throw his weight around or because he had some kind of alpha male complex. Adam just naturally dominated a space. And, God help him, Noah liked it.

Or maybe it was the drugs talking. Maybe sober Noah would find Adam saying he was probably going to hurt him not sexy, but, for tonight, Noah chose to fall asleep with a smile on his lips, replaying the memory of Adam’s kisses until he finally dozed off.





*



Noah woke to the hinges of his trailer door protesting. He jerked upright, his heart hammering in his chest as he watched a large figure stalk closer. Gary. He scrambled into the corner of his mattress but then ran out of space. It was too late to hide, there was only one way in or out. He slammed his hand down on the light, the forty watt bulb not taking away the horror of the situation but giving it a much more cinematic feel, like a Stanley Kubrick film.

Noah wasn’t sure which of them looked more shocked. Him or Adam. When Adam’s face came into view, a shock of awareness ran through Noah, part of him excited but the other half furious he’d just scared the shit out of him. “Did you just break into my house?”

Adam frowned, turning back to look at the door like Noah might be talking to somebody else. When he looked back, he shrugged. “Technically, I just pulled really hard and it opened.”

Noah’s mouth fell open at the matter-of-fact tone in Adam’s voice. “Have you ever heard of knocking?”

Adam crawled onto Noah’s bed, like it was a given he’d end up there. “I did knock. You didn’t answer.”

Noah pulled his pillow into his lap, hugging it, wondering if he was dreaming or hallucinating for the second time that night. “Maybe I didn’t want to see you. Did that even occur to you?” he asked, sounding unconvincing even to his own ears.

Adam’s brows furrowed together as he leaned into Noah’s space. “No, it didn’t. Why wouldn’t you want to see me?”

“Um, it's, like, four in the morning? I was sleeping? I don’t actually know you?” Noah countered.

“You knew me earlier. That was you underneath me, right?”

Noah gripped his pillow tighter. “And you took that to mean you have an engraved invitation to my house?”

Adam actually seemed to be pondering the question, like he wasn’t certain of his own motives. Finally, he said, “You said you were home. I knocked. You didn’t answer. I thought maybe you’d overdosed. I needed to see for myself you were alive.”

Noah screwed the heels of his palms into his eyes. “I’m alive.”

Adam didn’t leave, just moved closer. “Why would you do a drug when you didn’t even know what it was?”

Noah shrugged. “What are you, the morality police? You kill people, like, as a hobby.”

“It’s more like community service,” Adam said, his expression blank.

Noah blinked at him before shaking his head. “I can’t figure out what your deal is. I can never tell if you’re making fun of me or if you just have zero idea of what’s considered appropriate behavior.”

Adam reached out and took Noah’s hand, looking at him with a potency that made him swallow audibly. “I’m well versed in how to behave in polite society. My father made very sure of that. But…that’s for other people, not you.”

Noah tried to pull his hand away. “I don’t deserve politeness?”

Adam’s brow furrowed, seemingly growing frustrated. “No, you don’t deserve the fake version of me. You know who I am… What I am. I don’t have to be fake around you.”

Noah should have been terrified of the intensity of Adam’s words, the way he stared at Noah like he saw something…magical. Maybe Adam was high? “I know you murdered my father. I know you’ve killed people. I don’t know who you are. I just know what you’ve done. That can’t be who you are.”

Adam seemed almost hurt by Noah’s words. He definitely seemed confused. “But it is. I was raised for this. We all were.”

Noah pondered Adam’s words. “You were raised to kill?”

“We were raised to level the playing field. To right the wrongs of the justice system. There are a lot of bad people in this world and the law rarely makes the right call. We do our homework. We save lives. We keep people safe.”

Noah should tell Adam to go. He’d seen enough murder documentaries to know a sociopath when he saw one, knew anybody who looked at him the way Adam did was probably batshit crazy. But he wasn’t wrong. Killing Noah’s father, no matter how painful it had seemed at the time, had most definitely saved lives. It had saved Noah. He just hadn’t remembered that until he’d forced Adam’s hand and those memories had started floating to the surface.

His skin crawled just thinking of him. He had no idea how or why he’d turned his father into a saint after his death. He’d definitely been a monster. Now, his memories were the monster, lurking in the most unlikely of corners, popping up when Noah least expected and tearing him apart.