Chapter 12 · Cillian wiped blood from his mouth with the

Cillian wiped blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. “You want control? Here’s your choice. Sit down and let me work, or stay standing and let the curse finish you before that bastard gets through the door.”

Kane came closer.

Too close.

His boots stopped between Cillian’s feet. One hand landed on the table beside Cillian’s hip. The other lifted and caught Cillian’s chin, forcing his face up.

Kane’s palm was hot. His thumb rested beneath Cillian’s jaw, right over the frantic pulse.

“Look at me,” Kane said.

“I’m looking.”

“No lies.”

“That’s a terrible demand from a man who hired me at gunpoint.”

“Cillian.”

Cillian swallowed against Kane’s thumb. “What?”

“Can you do it?”

The question wasn’t soft. Kane didn’t know how to sound soft. But the pressure of his fingers changed. Less command. More grip, like he needed something solid to hold.

Cillian’s breath caught.

“If I say yes, you’ll blame me if it hurts.”

“If you say no, I’ll blame you if I die.”

“That’s not fair.”

“I’m not asking for fair.”

Kane’s face was close enough that Cillian could feel each rough breath against his cheek.