Play Dirty (Wages of Sin #2) - Neve Wilder Page 0,68

core of every stupid decision I’ve made, every backwards plan, it was always just that. I wanted you—the real you—as close as I could get you.”

“Why?” Madi asked, voice raw.

“Because I knew, even then I think, that I could love you, but I wasn’t sure I could ever break down your walls enough to get you to love me.”

“Yet here I am.”

Az raised their intertwined fingers to kiss Madi’s palm. “Yes, here you are.”

“What’s your real name?”

“Akil,” Az admitted with a chuckle.

“You gave me your real name that night?” Madi craned his head to look at Az.

“I didn’t see the harm in it. At that point, you were just a guy I met in a bar. Or maybe part of me knew. Who’s to say?”

Another few minutes of silence passed before Madi spoke again. “Did you really kill your father?”

“Were you eavesdropping on my conversation, motek?” Az asked, unperturbed.

Madi shrugged. “I may have left the shower running just to let the hot water run out.”

Az smiled in spite of himself. Of course, he had. “Yes, but he wasn’t much of a father. Neither of my parents were much interested in raising a child.”

“And…”

“Do you really want to hear this story, motek? It’s such a tired tale.”

“Yes.”

Az took a breath. There was no emotion for him in the telling; any feeling for his parents had died long before he’d ended their barbarism. It was simply just a chapter in a book he’d closed and filed away. But, if Madi wanted to hear it, Az would honor his request. “My mother was Jewish, born and raised in Boston. My father was from Pakistan, a very different Pakistan than the one people know now. They were both attending school in California in the late seventies.

“My father was studying chemistry and my mother pharmaceuticals. They married with the dream of being another multicultural success story. But that wasn’t to be. When I was five, my grandfather died, and my father was called home as the eldest son. The marriage had deteriorated by that point and my mother said that she needed to finish a work project and the two of us would join him later.”

“That never happened did it?” Madi asked, finding Az’s other hand so they were both resting on Madi’s stomach.

Az made a noise of confirmation. “It didn’t, no. The political climate in Pakistan was changing. My father decided he wanted to stay and insisted my mother come. But with the rise of the Taliban and the shrinking of women’s freedoms, my mother refused to be trapped in a culture she didn’t understand, that spoke a language she didn’t know. My mother started taking contract jobs that led us all over the world. My father gave up after a few months. She hated me, though, hated that I looked like him, spoke the languages he did. Even my interest in chemistry infuriated her.”

“Jesus.”

Az shrugged, even though Madi couldn’t see it. “When I was sixteen, I went to look for my father, certain he would give me the affection I sought. After all, I was his son, the spitting image of him. But he was furious. He had a new life, a new family. They knew nothing of me. Words were exchanged, threats were made. I lost my temper. As he lay dying, he uttered the word ‘Azrael.’ So, I kept it.”

“And your mother?” Madi asked.

“Cancer took her before I could. I like to think her anger and bitterness ate away at her until there was nothing left.”

Madi sat forward abruptly, water sloshing from the tub as he turned to face Az. “How can you trust anybody after growing up like that?”

Az huffed out a noise that wasn’t quite a laugh and shook his head. “I don’t trust anybody. I trust you.”

“But why?” Madi was adamant.

“Because you’ve never given me a reason not to.”

Madi’s kiss was unexpected, more an attack than a caress, but Az was grateful for it just the same. It reminded Az of their first kiss, that first fight for dominance. But the moment Az speared his tongue into Madi’s mouth, the fight seemed to leave him. He opened himself for Az, letting him control the kiss. It felt like…not an apology exactly, but a white flag, perhaps. A truce. Something to let Az know Madi was done fighting whatever this was between them.

Az shifted, his hands gripping Madi’s ass, pulling him into his lap so he could feel how badly Az wanted him. When he pulled from the kiss