Their Will be Done - Logan Fox Page 0,22

he expects a kiss for going to all this effort.

Well…it’s kind of romantic, what with the candles and everything. I push away the thought, ignoring the heat creeping onto my cheeks.

I really am a blasphemous little slut.

“Well? What d’ya think?”

“It’s lovely, thank you.”

There’s a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. Is he planning something, or is it just the candlelight?

Apollo offers me the canteen again. This time I don’t say no.

Despite having invited me out here for what I assume is some kind of date, Apollo doesn’t say another word until our plates are empty. Dinner is accompanied by crickets chirping in the dark corners of the courtyard while cutlery scrapes against crockery.

Apollo grins at me as he collects our empty dishes, and tosses his hair from his eyes with a flick of his head. “I’ll be right back,” he says before disappearing into the kitchen.

I tip the flask against my lips, clearing my throat after the fiery liquid scorches its way into my stomach as I consider my next move. I could use this time alone with Apollo to my advantage. He must know how Zachary and Reuben ended up in the basement. Can I persuade him to tell me?

Apollo comes back with two bowls and sets one down beside me. I snag his jeans before he can move away. He wears them baggy, but thankfully they’re not falling halfway down his ass like some of the boys I’ve seen in the mall.

“Why don’t you come sit here?” I pat the stone stool closest to me. He hesitates, and then sets his bowl next to mine before taking his seat.

He studies me with a small frown.

I have zero experience in seduction, but I guess there’s a first time for everything. I dig my spoon into my chocolate mousse and raise it to his lips.

He just keeps staring at me.

My cheeks grow warmer the longer he leaves me hanging. By the time he moves, I feel like I’m melting. But thankfully he eventually ducks forward and cleans my spoon.

“Rube’s not a nice guy,” he says as he leans back and brushes his hair from his face.

“I didn’t say anything about—”

“People assume a lot.” He points at me. “People like you.” He points at the bowl of mousse and opens his mouth for another serving.

I resist the urge to jam the spoon down his throat. “I’m sorry I’m so transparent. And you’re right. I do think Reuben is a good guy.”

He chuckles at me. “That’s because he’s been practicing being nice for years now.”

“Well he’s definitely got the hang of it,” I say, another heaped spoon accompanying the statement. My heart thumps a little harder. “How did he end up there anyway? Was he kidnapped too?”

“He didn’t exactly wander in off the street, now did he?”

I frown, but I don’t get a chance to speak.

“Listen, pretty thing. There’s something you have to understand about us. We’re not just a ‘bunch of friends.’” His air quotes are rife with condescension. “Something happened to us in that basement.” He quickly lifts a hand, as if expecting me to interrupt him. “Over and above a bunch of pedophiles repeatedly sticking their dicks in us.”

My skin grows cold at his callous words.

“They broke us, Trin.” His voice becomes thick and rough. “Broke us into a million fucking pieces. But we picked ourselves—each other—up.”

His sorrow cuts the nerves to my hand and my spoon tinkles when it hits the side of the bowl. Apollo takes the spoon without missing a beat.

“I reckon we got some of those pieces mixed up when we picked them up.” He scoops out a spoonful of mousse. I half-expect him to eat it, but instead he brings it to my lips.

We stay like that for a beat, him staring into my eyes as I get sucked right back into his.

Eyes as deep, dark, and dismal as the bottom of a well.

I eat the mousse. He keeps talking.

“So when we put the pieces together, we got a bit of each other too.” He frowns hard as the mousse starts to melt in my mouth. “Does that make sense?”

I nod, because it does.

It makes so much fucking sense it scares me.

It explains why they’re so close. The horrors they experienced, they shared, wove them together like a rug. Those strands, strong in their own right, became even stronger.

He scoops out more mousse and brings it close, but not close enough.

I lean in a little.

“We’re not friends. We’re brothers. A brotherhood. And the only way