Page 64 of Fool Me Twice
“There must be a name. Someone you know of or who knows of you,” Hart said, eyes focused on Cane like lasers.
“We’ve gone over this,” Cane said, holding Hart’s gaze and reveling in the feeling of his hand wrapped around his. “When I got out of jail I built this shit up alone. I didn’t cross anyone sideways any more than what’s expected, but I could be on anyone’s laundry list of hits. That’s just how it works. I can’t give you a specific name.”
“How about someone from inside? Or before?” Hart asked desperately, squeezing his hand tighter.
“Still in jail, or dead and buried,” he said. “I’m not one to leave loose ends around, sweetheart, I told you.”
Hart sighed, and Cane wished weirdly he could make it better somehow. He was the one with the fucking curse, but Hart had always ranked above that in importance. His hand was still hot on Cane’s, skin soft against the rough tattoos, stealing most of Cane’s attention.
“You don’t have to have it all figured out to take a step forward,” Hart murmured, then repeated it louder and squared his shoulders. “You don’t have to have it all figured out to take a step forward.”
Cane shook his head with a smile at Hart’s self-motivation. “Oh yeah?”
“Yes,” Hart said primly. “The idea about catching them in the act was good.”
“The execution fucking sucked.”
“Maybe,” Hart said. “Whoever is doing this thinks the fight ring is done now.”
“And they’re right,” Cane said through clenched teeth.
“Not necessarily,” Hart said. “Your…business…can still stay operational.”
“No fights, no point, sweetheart. They’re all running scared.”
“Not all of them,” Hart said with a sly glint in his eye. “You have one fighter who isn’t afraid of curses.”
Cane arched a brow as he caught on. “Ash?”
“If you can line him up a fight. I hear from him he’s quite popular.”
It was a suggestion Cane hadn’t even considered, too caught up in putting out the fires around him. Hart was a cooling breeze sweeping through the chaos.
“I thought you didn’t like him fighting. And there’s even more risk now.”
“Ash is his own person. He’ll do it whether I like it or not,” Hart said. “And he can handle himself while we try to figure out the curse. I’ll invite my other brothers if they’re free too, to blend in with the crowd and see if they spot anything. If we show that you’re still doing fine, whoever cursed you might slip up and show themselves in some way.”
“You want to poke the beast.”
“I have experience doing that.”
The words settled between them, and Cane ran his tongue over the bite on his lip. Hart definitely knew the most cutthroat ways to rile him up with the smallest things. Hart’s eyes followed the motion of his tongue like he knew, and Cane could feel himself heating up again. He shifted over only for his hand to slip from its place under Hart’s, drawing both of their attention.
Hart looked down at their joined hands and quickly removed his, blushing like he hadn’t realized he was still holding Cane’s.
Cane decided he very much didn’t like that, so he grabbed Hart’s escaping hand back.
Hart met his eyes, their hands straining and frozen between them, like a standoff in a game of tug of war.
“Since when have you wanted to hold hands?” Hart said, still trying to pull away.
Cane refused to let him go, all too aware that this was something larger between them. It was basically a metaphor for their whole relationship. Cane trying to hold on too tight, Hart pulling away once he was done. “You started it.”
“So let me finish it,” Hart said.
Cane clenched his jaw and tightened his grip. “No.”
Hart frowned at him. “Cane…”