what looked like bolt cutters and slapped them against his palm menacingly. "We ready to make him sing?"
Steele gave a small snort of laughter before wiping the smile from his face with his hand. "No need," he replied. "Hank told us everything hours ago, didn't you?" He leaned over the bleeding, beaten man with a hand on either wrist. "Told us all about the hit out on MK and where to access the notice. Sang like a bird, right Hank?"
"Fuck you," Hank spat back, his face twisted with pain and fury.
"Aw, no fun," Kody complained, pouting as he put the bolt cutters back on the bench.
Steele glared. "Like you haven't had enough fun."
There was a bite of anger to his tone that made my spine stiffen, but Kody—the fucking asshole—just gave a self-satisfied smirk and dragged his thumb over his lower lip. "I could always have more. How 'bout you, babe?" He waggled his eyebrows in my direction, and I groaned.
He would fast make me regret all that fun if he was going to rub Steele's face in it.
Hank guffawed, pulling all our attention as he bubbled blood from his lips. "Sounds like your girl's a bit of a whore, Maxy," he snickered, his beady eyes on Steele. He was poking a hornet's nest, and I frowned with confusion. Was he deliberately trying to make Steele kill him? Because he was going about it the right way.
This time when Steele's fist cracked across Hank's face, blood spurted from the mouthy prick and several teeth rattled across the concrete floor.
I gasped. "What the fuck, Steele?" I snapped, grabbing him by the arm and spinning him back to face me. He was as tense as a bow string, and his lips parted to argue with me—to defend his choice to smack the shit out of Hank. But I didn't much care. "You could have broken your fucking knuckles, you idiot," I scolded, taking his right hand in mine to check he hadn't done any damage.
After an entire week working out with Cass at the Reaper's gym, I was becoming more aware of things like that. Luckily, though, when I uncurled Steele's fist, I found he was wearing a glove of sorts. One with the fingers cut out and woven metal across the knuckles.
"I'm fine," he murmured under his breath, his tone losing that cold edge it'd had since I’d walked in. His hand turned over in mine, linking our fingers together briefly and squeezing. For a moment I almost forgot where we were. I almost forgot that there was a beaten, bloody killer strapped to the chair not five feet from me and that I was still staggeringly angry at Steele for keeping Archer's fucking secret.
I wanted to forgive him. I wanted to understand and let bygones be bygones. But my stubborn pride and betrayed trust wouldn't let me move on until he'd paid in some way. I unlinked our fingers and took a step away.
"We got all the information we need from Hank already, Princess," Archer said, dousing my weird mood with a bucket of irritation. "He's only still breathing for your benefit."
I shot Archer a small frown of confusion, but Hank started laughing again. Blood was pouring down his chin now from the teeth Steele had knocked out, but he didn't seem bothered. I supposed he was past that point by now.
"Isn't that cute, eh? Your boyfriends wanted you to see them kill a man. If that's not romance, I dunno what is." His lip curled in a blood-soaked sneer. "What's the reward for that these days? Blow jobs? Anal? I bet you're the kinda girl who loves a good gang bang, eh? Just like your mama."
I blinked at him, hardly believing what he'd just said. Cold fury built inside me like a tidal wave, but I gritted my teeth to hold it at bay.
"Do we need him alive for anything else?" I asked, keeping my eyes locked on Hank. "Or did you really just wait so I could see him die?"
"We thought you might appreciate seeing for yourself that there was one less threat on your life, Madison Kate," Archer snapped, sounding annoyed as hell at my question. He stalked over to the table where Kody stood and snatched something off it. "Recognize this?"
Archer tossed something at me, and I instinctively caught it. Cool metal touched my fingers, and my jaw dropped as I inspected what he'd thrown.
"This is..." I turned the folding knife over in my hands, then