Page 123 of Devil May Lie

Madden hesitated but eventually gave in, settling his wrists together and holding them out so Berga could slip the leather over them and pull it tight. He grunted in discomfort but didn’t verbally protest again.

Once he was secured, Berga retreated a few steps, putting space between them.

When Madden frowned, he licked his lips.

“I know you can’t remember,” Berga began, “but you and I were fighting before the explosion. Actually, you were breaking up with me.”

“Is that why this is the first time I’ve seen you in over a month?” Madden drawled, and it sounded a lot like he was being sarcastic, but Berga couldn’t be sure. “Because we were broken up?”

“No,” he admitted. “You didn’t see me because of the guilt. And maybe because I’m a coward.” He chuckled darkly when that earned him another frown. “I didn’t want to confront you, because at least if you didn’t remember what I did, there wouldn’t be a chance of you ever looking at me like that again.”

“Like what?”

“Like you hated me.” Berga swallowed the lump in his throat. “Like I disgusted you.”

“When did I look at you like that?”

“Just before the car blew up.” He’d heard from Flix that Zane and the others had filled Madden in on his activities during that lost time. He knew the two of them had been seeing each other. Berga had figured since he hadn’t reached out either, Madden wanted nothing to do with him now that their time together was a blank. “It wasn’t all a lie. You believed it was, at the end, but it wasn’t.”

He squared his shoulders, determined to get this part of the plan done and over with. “You found out our first time together wasn’t as accidental as I made you believe. It’s true, I took Impression on purpose while Great and Muse were cleaning up Eric’s dead body, then I slipped one into your drink and made it seem like I was settling. I wasn’t. It was always you, Madden. You were always the one I wanted, even when I didn’t understand the gravity of that want myself.”

“What does that mean, Butcher?”

“It means,” he blew out a breath, “that yes. I came here that night intending to take advantage of you. Yes, I came because I wanted to touch your hair and see what your eyes looked like close up. Yes, I tricked you. And, yes, it was all supposed to end that night, but—”

“It didn’t,” Madden cut off his tangent. His skin was flushed, and his bound hands were back to cupping himself through the thick material of the towel. Pretty soon, that little bit of friction wouldn’t be enough.

They were running out of time.

“No. It didn’t. I tried to push you away, but you were persistent.”

“So, it’s my fault then?”

“No,” he shook his head. “No. You not giving up on me was the best thing that’s ever happened. I’m grateful for the time we got to spend together, even if it was cut shorter than I would have liked. Even if,” he searched those dark eyes but couldn’t decipher what Madden was feeling, “you can’t remember any of it. I never meant to mislead you. I thought I would get in, get out, and we would both go our separate ways. When that didn’t happen…I should have told you myself, but I didn’t.”

“Told me that you liked my hair and my eyes so much, you felt you had to drug me to get close to them?” Madden drawled.

“I know it sounds stupid.”

“It doesn’t just sound stupid, Butcher,” he corrected crossly, “It is stupid. You could have just tried asking.”

Berga shook his head. “You’ve never looked at me that way. Even that night, you refused me at first.”

“Until you drugged me.”

“Yeah.”

“And this?” He thrust his hips out. “What exactly do you hope to accomplish by repeating history? What? Do you think you have a magic ass or something? That if I fuck you again, I’ll somehow unlock all those precious memories of the two of us?”

He scowled. “No. Of course not.”

“Then why—”

“I told you. I betrayed you first. I tricked you and you broke up with me. Then, before you could leave, you got caught in the crossfire. I’m the reason you were injured. I’m the reason you’ve got to deal with memory loss at all. So,” Berga moved forward and dropped to his knees in front of Madden, “deal with me. The way a Devil of Vitality would.”

He turned the blaster and then situated it into one of Madden’s hands, lifting it up and leaning in. The second he felt the cold metal against his forehead, he sighed, the first relieved sound he’d made in weeks.

“What the hell are you playing at?” Madden growled.