The Bone Collector - The Watch #1 - ch. 6 (Patreon)

Gift is under Park's skin and making him have a lot of big feelings. Hopefully you like. Unbeta'd, unedited. Park

Park made a concerted effort to ignore the soft brown eyes boring into him from across the room. He leaned back in his seat, legs kicked up on the table and crossed at the ankles while he stared straight ahead. He was not going to let that little shit think he’d gotten to him. Even though he most definitely had. Park hadn’t jerked off so much in one night since he was thirteen.

If you don’t kiss me, I’ll find someone who will.

The fuck he would. Did he mean Payton? Park’s gaze flicked to the kid in question, taking in his heavy black liner and wild hair. What the hell did that child know about sex? Or even kissing. Was he even old enough to drink? Gift had said kiss but he’d meant sex. He wanted to lose his virginity in every sense of the word, and that wasn’t fucking happening on Park’s watch.

Not by anybody but me.

No. Not by anybody. Park had more self control than this. He was a trained killer. That took training. It took discipline. It took patience. All of which seemed to go out the window whenever Gift was within reach. The boy was haunting him. His voice bouncing around in his head so much he could barely hear his own thoughts.

He said he’d be gentle. He said he’d make it really good for me. I hear he’s a really good kisser. He’s a bit big which might hurt.

Park slammed his hand down on the table, drawing the startled looks of almost a dozen students all with varying degrees of confusion on their faces. All but Gift who started to smile but then had the good sense to hide it. He’d be lucky if Park didn’t put him over his fucking knee and spank him until he cried.

Park’s cock twitched. Dammit. The last thing he needed was to think about Gift, underwear around his thighs, skin cherry red from Park’s palm, crying so sweetly, begging even. He huffed out an irritated breath. Who could have ever thought he’d be such a brat?

A week ago, Park would have told the world Gift was too sweet, too soft, too naive for this world, this life. But it was Park who’d been naive. Gift had lied to Park this whole time and he hadn’t suspected a thing. Park shook his head. The boy could speak English the whole time.

Sure, Gift had a point. They shouldn’t have assumed he couldn’t speak the language. In hindsight, it seemed obvious. There was no way an international school hadn’t ensured the students spoke English. But it was just so easy to believe he was still just a sweet, innocent boy with soft cheeks and pretty brown eyes. Eyes that had looked up at Park so hopefully last night when he’d asked him to have sex with him.

Park swallowed audibly. Christ. How did he get himself into this mess? Two days ago he’d had his life totally under control and now it was chaos and not the kind he’d spent his life thriving on. Park had cut himself off from the reality of ever having Gift, resigning it to his nightly jerk-off fantasy. It was the right thing to do.

But in one day, Gift had dug under his fence and planted the smallest seed of possibility in Park’s brain—that he was Park’s for the taking, in any way he chose—and now that knowledge was spreading, overtaking his rationality like an invasive species, choking out Park’s resistance.

Park was jerked out of his moping when Persephone rocketed forward in her chair, hair flying and hinges protesting. He blinked, looking around at the packed meeting room. His students had shoved several small tables together and they all lazed around them staring at the two manila folders in the center of the table.

“So…what do we do?” Diego asked, his fingers dancing over the one closest to him. “Like do we just dive in?”

Park couldn’t care less how they solved their little project or even if they did. He hadn’t looked at the information in those envelopes anymore than he had the digital files Archer had forwarded him sometime last night. He was just a babysitter.

Park shrugged. “I’m not even supposed to be here, remember? Feel free to ignore me entirely.”

“You’re not going to help us at all?” Remi asked, eyes wide.

Park shrugged. “I’m just here to make sure you don’t die or embarrass yourselves, other than that, I don’t exist.”

Gift blinked in surprise, then dragged his top teeth over his bottom lip in a nervous gesture that had Park staring at the wetness left glistening behind. Thoughts of Gift on his knees, face smeared with saliva, Park’s cock heavy on his tongue, assaulted him without cause. Gift smiled shyly, then dipped his gaze like he could hear Park’s dirty thoughts.

The others were blissfully unaware, clearly more irritated by his lack of help. Morgan scoffed and Dove rolled her eyes, but it was Persephone who shook her head then snatched a folder from beneath Diego’s limp fingertips, ignoring his look of surprise.

She flipped through each paper and photo in the file rapidly, running a finger down each page as her eyes darted back and forth. Did she have a photographic memory? Finally, she grabbed a picture from the file, marched to the white board and secured the picture in place with a magnet. She then took a red dry erase marker and wrote ‘victim’ in bold capital letters.

Despite his lack of interest, Park studied the girl in the photo. It was the only thing in the room he could focus on that wouldn’t lead him right back to Gift’s innocent little face and Park’s dirty, dirty thoughts.

The girl was young, high school age. She wore a pale blue polo embroidered with ivy leaves around a large crest. A school uniform of some sort. Maybe a Catholic school. She had chestnut hair, hazel eyes and perfect teeth that Park suspected were from her orthodontist more than genetics. Her peaches and cream complexion assured Park that her murder was likely already all over the news.

The Watch might not be tasking them with taking out a fascist dictator but a girl like that garnered international interest. Eliminating her killer without drawing attention wouldn’t be easy.

“Who is she?” Payton asked.

Luca took the other folder in hand, flipping it over but not reading the contents. “Her name was Madison Byerly. Age: 15. Honor student at St. Agnes Prep School for Girls. It’s a cold case.”

“How do you know that?” Drake asked, frowning at the table in confusion like he expected to find the information on its surface.

Luca shrugged. “I remember when it happened. It was international news for like ten seconds. Until the next pretty girl ended up dead anyway. They kept a lot of the details hush-hush, which I imagine had to do with her parents' connections, but they never did solve her murder so whoever did it is still out there.”

“What happened to her?” Jay asked, his soft accent landing somewhere between formal British and native Indian. If Park remembered correctly, his parents split their time between Delhi, London and the US.

Persephone leaned over and grabbed another photo slapping it onto the board beside the first. This one was much different. A body lay on a filthy green carpet, limbs askew, blood stained hair covering a chalky bluish complexion with only one milky white eye visible.

It was hard to resign the girl in the photo on the left with the one in the photo on the right. The images were clearly crime scene photos. Tiny yellow triangular markers sat beside several objects in the room. A large crystal ashtray propped against the leg of the couch. A black purse with a gold chain, the contents of which spilled onto the floor.

The girl herself wore a short sequined dress that was hiked up around her waist, not necessarily because she’d been sexually assaulted, but because the scrap of fabric looked barely big enough to cover the girl from chest to thigh and she’d clearly put up a fight. Good for her.

Another bright yellow marker sat beside a garish dangly earring on the floor, and still another by one clear stacked heel, the type favored by porn stars and exotic dancers. The other was still on the girl’s foot.

“That is her?” Mos asked. ‘That is the same girl?”

“Yes,” Jay said. “At least according to the police report.”

Morgan stood, walking until she was directly in front of the board, before hopping up onto the table, long legs dangling from her plaid skirt. “How did that,” she pointed to the smily girl, then swung her finger towards the new photo. “Become that?”

“Drugs?” Remi asked quietly.

“Tox screen only shows molly and phentermine in her system,” Lennon said, holding up a piece of paper from the file. “Hardly addictive.”

“What’s with the hooker heels?” Dove asked.

“Kind of matches the rest of her outfit,” Payton said, rocking his chair in short little bursts.

“But it doesn’t,” Dove said. “Not really. Like why is she wearing that cheap dress, fake jewelry and those shoes when her purse is worth six grand?”

Drake was looking down at his phone now. “It says she was found in a trailer park off MLK Boulevard approximately four days after her parents reported her missing? How does a girl like that not get noticed? Aren’t trailers like…close together? Nobody in that trailer park saw her?”

“Or nobody wanted to get involved,” Gift said.

“Gift’s right,” Payton said. “People tend to mind their own business, especially in rougher neighborhoods. It’s safer that way.”

“I’m sure you’ll all get to the bottom of her case,” Park said, not at all certain that was true.

“Shouldn’t it be the handler’s job to solve the case and our job to punish the bad guys?” Mos asked, staring at Park.

“I don’t care how you do it. Work it out amongst yourselves,” Park said.

Payton shrugged. “I don’t know. I kind of like puzzle games. And this is definitely a puzzle. Besides—” He pinched Gift’s fleshy cheek— “I don’t want to be away from my baby that long.”

The muscle in Park’s jaw ticked as he contemplated the satisfying crunch each of those long fingers would make as he snapped them one by one. Gift flushed while the others gaped open mouthed at the two. Park didn’t blame them. The idea of the two of them was ridiculous. Utterly absurd. Gift’s gaze flicked to Park’s. He held eye contact as he reached below the table and then Payton’s eyes went wide, a smirk spreading across his face.

Park bit the inside of his cheek. Beating a student half to death probably wouldn’t set a good example but if Gift’s hand wasn’t back up on that table in ten seconds, Park was going to lose his shit. He didn’t realize he was glaring at Gift until the smile slipped from his face, his hand timidly landing back on the table.

Park dragged his gaze back to the board, pretending to ignore Gift’s little show, pretending his cock wasn’t rock hard. Yeah, Gift was ripe for a spanking. He was pushing his luck. Would he cry? Would he beg for forgiveness? Would he get on his knees for Park?

Christ.

He did his best to covertly adjust himself behind the unforgiving fabric of his trousers. He needed Gift to understand he was playing with fire. That Park would only be pushed so far before he snapped, and Gift had him rapidly hurtling towards that threshold.

What was the harm? He was an adult. They both were. Who could possibly get hurt?

Anchali.

Her name popped into his head unbidden, halting his dirty thoughts in their tracks like an uttered safe word or invoking a demon. This was his best friend’s son that he was imagining naked on his knees.He’d look so goddamn pretty like that. Park huffed out another irritated breath. He needed to be an adult about this. Anchali had given her son to him to protect, not violate.

But maybe protection involved discipline?

The psychiatrist was right. Park was a psychopath. No matter how much he wanted to care that Anchali would hate him, he just…didn’t. He’d been able to fake it before, told himself if he just stayed detached he could make this work, could keep Gift at arms length. But it was all bullshit. The only thing keeping Park from mauling Gift was the knowledge that it would break the boy.

Gift might not have been as sweet and innocent as Park had once suspected, but he was a virgin. Hell, he’d never even been kissed. He now hoped this meeting dragged on. If he had to stand up anytime soon, his entire pod would see just how turned on he was and getting a hard-on while staring at a picture of a dead girl might be a step too far, even for a group of psychopaths.

###

Park forced himself to zone out and ignore Gift and the others for the rest of the meeting. He played chess in his head, replayed kills that could have been cleaner, he even started a fantasy baseball league. Anything to ignore the heated glances Gift threw his way every few minutes.

Just when Park was about to pull the plug himself, Drake pointed out the time. They all stood as if they’d just been waiting for a chance to run, some stretched, others yawned. Park remained seated as they gathered their things, his mouth a hard line as Gift made a show of bending over to grab his bag from the floor. Park stared greedily. Those uniform pants clung to Gift’s pert ass like a second skin.

Were those regulation?

Park snapped out of it when Dove asked, “Are we going to, like, get to interview witnesses? If so, how do we do it without drawing suspicion?”

“That’s a great question,” Park said with a smile. “One you’ll have to figure out yourself. Let me know what you decide. But remember, the other pods are working their own cases so don’t wait too long to strategize.”

Morgan and Remi groaned. Luca and Jay sighed, the others just sort of shuffled towards the door, unbothered, bags thrown over their shoulders. Everyone but Gift, who lagged at the back of the group. Once they were gone, he closed the door, dropping his bag back on the table as he studied Park like he was a bomb he needed to disarm. Park stood, suddenly feeling like sitting left him…vulnerable. Gift looked amused by Park’s behavior. He studied him for another moment, then started to move.

Park thrust his jaw forward, forcing that mask of indifference back into place. There was a pink tint to Gift’s soft cheeks, and he looked anywhere but at Park, but his hips swayed with each step. Park watched them move like a metronome, riveted.

Park needed to leave. When Gift was near him, he lost every ounce of resolve. He couldn’t remember a single time in his life where he’d been so weak around another person, but Gift’s clumsy seduction attempt already had Park’s dick taking notice. He felt like a fucking teenager.

Gift stopped when he stood between Park and the table, leaning back on his hands, finally meeting Park’s gaze from beneath long lashes, biting the corner of his lip. It should have looked ridiculous, over the top, but he was beautiful, a walking wet dream.

“What are you doing, Kla?” Park asked, a little hint of warning seeping into his tone.

Gift’s face fell, lips pooching out in an exaggerated pout. “Back to that again? Can’t you call me ouen? Or at least Gift.”

Park should have never called him that in the first place, but it had rolled off his tongue so easily. Gift was adorably plump in all the right places, his lips, his cheeks, his ass. Park ached with the need to intimately acquaint himself with all of them. It was impossible to look at Gift and not just…want.

“We shouldn’t be alone in here together, ouen,” Park said, giving into Gift’s request without thought.

Gift hopped up on the table directly in front of Park, leaning back on his hands and letting his knees fall open, leaving just enough space for Park to step between. “Why?” he asked huskily.

Park’s heated gaze dragged over Gift’s form, taking in long limbs and a tiny waist, legs that went on for days. Park couldn’t help the way his eyes lingered at the juncture of Gift’s thighs, wondering if the boy was hard, or if that was a well placed fold in the fabric.

Finally, he forced himself to look at Gift. “I’m afraid people might get the wrong idea.”

Gift hooked a brow, his expression dubious. “We’re alone in your apartment every night. Isn’t that way more scandalous? Besides, what could happen? You said no, remember?”

The question was rhetorical. Gift was teasing Park, taunting him, giving him his most innocent eyes even as he stared at Park’s lips.

“Gift,” Park said, his voice a low rumble.

“Park,” he countered, blinking up at him owlishly. “Oh, sorry. Hia.”

Park couldn’t believe this rebellious little hellion was the same boy who had sat across from him at dinner for months. He was so mouthy, such a tease. God, Park fucking loved it.

“You don’t want to test my patience today, ouen,” Park warned, doing his best to remain impassive.

Gift hooked his legs around Park’s knees then tugged, causing him to fall forward. He had to plant his hands on either side of Gift to catch himself from falling. Now he was just millimeters away from Gift’s plush mouth, spit slick and slightly parted, his minty breath puffing excitedly against his skin. He stared at Park with wide eyes, like he wasn’t the one who’d put them in this position in the first place.

His gaze dropped to Park’s lips once more. “Or maybe you’re afraid they’ll get the right idea?” Gift said, breathless.

Park’s cock jumped. Gift’s cheeks were flush, his pupils dilated, mouth open, chest heaving with excitement. In this new position Park could tell that it had not been a wrinkle in Gift’s pants. He was half hard and pressed against Park in a way that was impossible to ignore. Jesus.

“Don’t push me, ouen,” Park growled, putting some space between them, though not as much as before.

Gift sulked prettily, chin down as he gazed up at him beneath a fringe of dark lashes.  “You don’t want me?” he asked, thighs clenching around Park’s own.

Park’s nostrils flared, his fingers gripping the edge of the table so they didn’t drag Gift closer. He could feel his resolve slipping. He could smell him. That scent that was just Gift. He smelled like coconut and vanilla, like spicy soap and expensive shampoo. Park wanted to bury his nose in his neck and inhale him like a drug.

He needed to shut this down. To let him down gently, but firmly. Explain to him that this game had to stop, this childish seduction was over. Instead, he said, “That’s not the point.”

Dammit. Park was weak, so weak. He’d barely been able to hold himself back when Gift was all the way across the room but now he was sprawled out, warm and willing on that table like an offering and Park was only human. He needed to touch him, to taste him, to show him who he belonged to. The thought of being Gift’s first anything flooded his head. He would make it good for him, he would be gentle and sweet, at least the first time. If that’s what Gift wanted. He could make his first time a thousand times more pleasurable than Payton.

Gift’s eyes gleamed, his shoe running up the back of Park’s calf. “Isn’t it?”

Gift wasn’t a person, he was a demon, a succubus sent straight from hell to tempt Park, to test his resolve. “Gift,” he warned.

Gift’s tongue darted out to wet his lower lip, his gaze raking over Park, landing at his zipper before flicking his eyes upwards. “I love it when you say my name like that.”

Why did he have to sound so soft? So needy and desperate? So submissive?

Park saw the moment Gift dropped the facade, the whole temptress role he was acting out in an attempt to lure Park into something more. But if Park thought the real Gift would be any less tantalizing, he was wrong.

When Gift’s eyes met his there was now an honesty to them, a realness. “Like I’m in trouble,” he murmured, cheeks pinking once more, gaze boring into his as he said, “It makes me feel hot all over. Shivery.”

“If you keep this up, you’re gonna be in trouble,” Park promised, unable to stop himself.

Gift sucked in a breath at the dirty promise, his tongue darted out once more, wetting his lower lip. “Yes, hia.”

Park had to bite back the snarl pulling at his chest. He’d brought this on himself by insisting on the honorific. He’d thought it would somehow serve as a constant reminder that Gift was off limits. But now Gift deployed it at will, using it to break Park down.

Park felt himself closing the distance between them just a bit more, trying one last time to get the upper hand in a situation that was rapidly spinning out of his control. “I don’t know who it is who’s  got you acting this way, but it needs to stop. You’re in over your head.”

Gift flinched, looking suddenly unsure. “Shouldn’t I get to decide that?”

“This isn’t good for you. I’m not good for you. You’re not ready for someone like me. Or even Payton. Find another handler,” he suggested, even though it felt like a knife in his windpipe. “Someone who can be sweet to you.”

“What if I don’t want someone who is sweet to me?” Gift countered, setting his jaw. “Why won’t you give me a chance?”

Gift needed to see this wasn’t a game. “Okay,” he said, surging forward, aiming for his mouth, testing Gift’s theory. He yelped, falling back on his forearms, dodging the advance.

Park smirked. Enjoying the tiniest of victories. Before he could move away, Gift lurched forward, smacking a hard kiss on Park’s lips, lingering there for a moment before pulling back, eyes pleading.

The moment Gift hit him with that look, Park was a goner. With Gift’s kiss buzzing on his skin and his vulnerable expression, Park wasn’t prepared to deny him anything. Or maybe it was just a poor excuse for his crumbling morals.

He reached beneath Gift’s thighs, drawing him closer. Gift breath stuttered, looking up at Park with wide eyes.

“You want it that badly, ouen?” Park rasped, gaze falling to Gift’s mouth. “Bad enough to act like a little tease right here in public?”

Gift’s gaze grew hazy and soft, a tinge of a whine in his voice as he said, “I want it so badly, hia.”

Park’s cock throbbed at Gift’s confession. He’d never stood a chance. “One kiss. That’s it.”

Gift’s eyes went wide, lips parting, then he wasn’t nodding, “Yes, hia.”

“I mean it,” Park said, unsure if he was trying to convince Gift or himself.

“I know,” Gift said, tone implying he knew no such thing. “I’m ready,” he said, then closed his eyes and tilted his face upwards, waiting patiently. So good for him.

Park’s lips twitched. Why did he have to be so adorable? He cupped Gift’s face, hesitating for only a moment as the weight of being Gift’s first kiss settled over him. Then he was leaning in, fitting their mouths together softly. Gift huffed out a breath through his nose, mouth stiffening even as his fingers rose to clutch at Park’s shirt.

“Relax, ouen,” Park said against his lips.

Park felt the shift immediately, the boy’s lips going soft, pliant, slotting against Park’s perfectly. That should have been enough. Promise fulfilled. He started to pull away, but Gift clung tighter, lips parting with a pleading noise. Park felt that sound in his core. He begged so sweetly even when he wasn’t saying a word. Park’s thumb swept over Gift’s cheekbones as he dipped his tongue inside, getting his first real taste of Gift. Gift’s tongue met his timidly, but his legs wrapped around Park’s thighs to hold him hostage.

Fuck. His hand dropped to Gift’s neck. He could feel his pulse fluttering under his fingertips. He was fisting Park’s shirt, his kisses growing longer, less shy, soon he was getting a rhythm. When Park’s hand knotted in Gift’s silky hair a low moan fell from his lips going straight to Park’s cock.

Park didn’t notice the way their bodies were slotted together until Gift rolled his hips upwards, pressing his erection against Park’s zipper with a desperate sound.

This was already so far gone. “We shouldn’t,” he said.

“Please,” Gift whimpered against his lips, trying and failing to get even closer.

“Shh,” Park soothed, his mouth breaking from Gift’s to press kisses against his cheekbone, the softness beneath, the spot where his jaw hinged. Gift was practically panting now, trying to work himself against Park as he nosed behind Gift’s ear.

Park wished they were back in his room where he could lay him out and take his time. Gift would let him. He’d let him do anything. It was a heady thought, a dangerous one that latched onto that deep, dark part of Park that didn’t give a fuck about right or wrong, only take, take, take. “You like that, ouen?”

Gift continued to roll his hips, Park let him work himself against him for just a little while longer. They had to stop this. They were in school. Fuck. All this from a kiss? What would he sound like when Park was tasting him, working him open on his fingers, burying himself inside, fucking him until he cried, until he begged.

“So good, hia. So good,” he chanted. “I want more.”

Gift’s hands smoothed over Park’s shirt, fingertips dipping into the waistband of Park’s pants. He snatched Gift’s wrists, holding them firmly. If he let him open his pants he was going to fuck him right there, bent over the table where anyone could see. This had gone on long enough.

Gift blinked at him, startled, looking a little hurt. “What? Did I do something wrong?”

“No, ouen, but we’re at school,” Park recalled. “We can’t do this.”

“We live at school,” Gift said, trying to free himself from Park’s grasp.

Part of Park’s brain whispered that Gift was right. But it wasn’t safe. “There’s no lock on the door.”

“There’s a lock on your door, on all of them,” Gift reminded. Need clawed at Park. It would be so easy to give in. His apartment was steps away. He could have Gift naked and begging in minutes. As if Gift could sense his resolve crumbling, he gave him one more desperate look. “You could do anything you want to me in there. Anything.”

“Christ, Gift,” Park snarled. There was no way Gift knew what he dangled in front of Park. Anything he wanted? Gift wasn’t ready for all the things Park wanted. “You can’t just say those things. Especially when you don’t know what ‘anything’ entails.”

“Then show me,” Gift pleaded, pausing a moment before adding, “I’d much rather you were my first time then Payton.”

Park released Gift’s hands to slam his own down on either side of him, meeting Gift’s wide eyed gaze with his own furious one. “You will not sleep with Payton. Do you hear me? Nobody touches you. Nobody.”

“Nobody except you?” Gift managed, shaking, his fingers floating to his swollen lips.

“Yes,” he snapped, then shook his head. “Wait, no. Nobody, including me.” At Gift’s look of confusion, Park made a frustrated sound. “You don’t want this. Wait until you’re back home in Bangkok or London even. Find someone your own age. Someone you love.”

Gift’s brow furrowed. “I’m not going home, Park. Ever. I’m finishing the program and then I’m going to become Payton’s handler.”

Park was shaking his head before Gift even finished talking. “Absolutely not. That’s not happening. It’s too dangerous.”

Gift’s jaw thrust forward, eyes narrowing into angry crescents. “Boone already said I could. I’m one of the best handlers in this program. I have perfect grades and Payton and I have… bonded.”

Park scoffed, his fury causing an ache behind his ribs. “Oh, I’m sure he wants you ‘bonded’ to him. But you cannot be with him. Especially if you sleep together. And if you think he’s going to fall in love with you, you’re wrong. He’s a psychopath, He’s never going to love you. He’s never going to care about you.”

“And you do?” Gift snapped.

Park took a step back at the fury in his voice. “You’re very…important to me.”

Gift’s eyes burned, his mouth twisting as he spit, “Fuck you, Park.”

Park’s brows shot up. “What?”

Gift arranged his features into that infuriatingly placid smile he saved for their nightly dinners, his voice dripping with disdain as he said, “Oh, I’m sorry. Fuck you, hia.”

“Gift.”

“No,” he raged, shoving Park further away even though he’d had plenty of room to leave.

How had this gone off the rails so fast? Two days ago, Park had everything under control. Now Gift was tearing through his life like a tornado. “Gift-”

Park winced as Gift jammed a finger into his chest. “Don’t. Just…don’t. You don’t get to tell me who I can and can’t sleep with. You’re not my dad and you’re not my boyfriend, so do me a favor and mind your own business.”

Park stared, mouth open. Where was the Gift he knew? “This isn’t like you.”

“How would you know? You think of me as this sweet, docile creature.” He gave a humorless laugh. “The funny thing is, when we’re together, I want to be that for you. I want to let you have control. I want to be good for you. I like when you take care of me. But not like this. You don’t get to tell me what to do and then not be with me. You can’t have it both ways.”

Park shook his head. “Gift, where is all this coming from?”

Gift snorted. “From months of sitting across from you while you treated me like an adorable little burden. Just…stay away from me.”

Park stood frozen, watching as Gift snatched his bag from the table and stormed out, slamming the door behind him hard enough to rattle the mirror over the fireplace.

And this was why Park didn’t do relationships. He wasn’t good at them, wasn’t good at things like feelings. And now he’d hurt Gift and probably sent him right into the arms of that manipulative serial killer he called a best friend.

What the hell could he do? He couldn’t sleep with Gift just to keep him away from Payton. That would break Gift into a million pieces that would never fit back together properly. But would he just be doing it to keep him from Payton? He shook his head even as the answer to his unspoken question rattled around in his head.

No. He’d do it because he wanted Gift more than he wanted air, more than he wanted a friendship with Gift’s mother. And that was why Park was a terrible person.