Page 38 of Knox
Now I’ve killed Finnian.
“Bloody hell… I stand corrected. I am shocked,” he wheezes, pounding a fist against his sternum as he tries to catch his breath. “What the actual fuck, Knox?!”
“I thought nothing shocked you anymore.”
“Are you joking? The Lord Himself would be knocked sideways by a confession like that! What the hell… nae, scratch that. How the hell did this even happen?”
“I installed spyware in his suite… exactly as it says in the security contract,” I explain, and Finnian nods. “Cillian told me to take it out, and I told him to fuck off. So, to get back at me, the little asshole has been touching himself every single night for over a week… right next to the damn mic.”
Finnian presses his lips together, his shoulders trembling as he fights a laugh.
“Then,” I continue, “every fucking morning at breakfast, he asks if I slept well or if the audio feeds caught anything suspicious. The little shit is intentionally trying to break me.”
Finnian finally laughs. “Christ! That’s hilarious.”
“That is torture.”
“Torture, is it? You fancy him that much.”
“Fuck no,” I say, though my dick betrays me and hardens at the memory of Cillian moaning my name. “…he just turns me on.”
“Of course he does. The lad looks like Travis Fimmel back in his Tarzan era.”
I stare at him blankly, and my frustration is replaced by confusion. “Who the fuck is that?”
“You need to watch more telly, Knox.”
“I have plenty of drama in my day job and my Wednesday telenovelas, thank you very much.”
“I’m guessing his nightly activities aren’t the only reason you’re having a rough go of it with Tarzan Boy.”
“He is constantly trying to force me to quit. He shifts timelines without notice, slips his security detail, and intentionally leaves his phone behind so we can’t track him. He’s a nightmare.”
“He slipped you?”
“…Three times.”
“Does the daft bastard nae realize a bloody sociopath is trying to put a bullet in him?!”
“He thinks the death threats are fake. He’s convinced whoever is writing them is just fishing for a payout.”
“That’s incredibly dangerous.”
“Tell me about it.” I take a sip of my coffee. “Which is why I don’t get why Law is so worried that I might end up killing him, when Cillian is already doing a stellar job of trying to get himself killed.”
“Nae kidding.” Finnian sighs. “Now, putting the sexual part aside… did you feel a bit better after making him do what you wanted?”
“…Yes.”
“An’ have you been all wound up since then, or did you manage to sleep that night?”
“I slept like a narcoleptic. It was incredible.”
“Then there you have it,” Finnian says, picking up Mr. Weasley from the floor and putting him on his lap. “You feel like you’re losing your mind because you’re letting him control you, Knox. An’ you’ve never allowed that before. Forget your grudge against the rich, forget everything that happened with your mum, an’ focus on Cillian as a mission you need to pass.”
“Like a mission,” I repeat, and it makes sense.
“Aye. If the clever little bastard pushes your boundaries, then you push right back.”
