Page 17

After we got cleaned up and climbed into bed last night, I sent Sal a text telling him I need a meeting with the big boss himself, Lorenzo.

Anders was right about one thing; I can’t just go waving my gun around to solve every problem, at least not without the green light from on high.

I’m going to protect him one way or another though, and it’ll be a hell of a lot easier if I can get Lorenzo’s blessing to take care of the problem.

I look over my shoulder at the sound of Anders’ shuffling footsteps. He pulls out one of the chairs that’s tucked under the small table in the corner of the kitchen and takes a seat.

“How do you take your coffee?” I ask.

“Oh, I can get it.” He starts to stand up again.

“Sit,” I command. Anders raises both eyebrows at me but sinks back down into the seat. “Sorry, but you’ve gotta give me a chance to spoil you a little. How am I supposed to woo you if you get all feisty and independent about something as simple as coffee?”

“I thought you liked me feisty,” he mutters, and I grin.

“Believe me, little viper, I do.” I push the eggs around in the pan and then turn to pour coffee into one of the mugs I set out.

“Black is fine,” he says.

“It’s fine or it’s how you like it?” Something tells me he’s gotten way too used to taking whatever he can get, but that’s going to change. Give me a few weeks and he’ll be just as comfortable demanding everything he wants outside the bedroom as he is inside of it.

He’s quiet for a few seconds, and I glance over to see his jaw set stiffly and a frustrated look in his eyes.

“If you have flavored creamer, just a splash of it,” he finally says.

I grin and open the fridge again to grab the French vanilla cream I keep on hand. “If you have a favorite flavor, write it down and I’ll make sure to pick it up next time I’m at the store.”

I add just a splash like he asked for then carry it over to the table for him. Anders grunts his thanks in a tone that would sound dismissive if it weren’t for the fact that he also reaches out and squeezes my hand before letting me get back to the eggs.

“He wasn’t always such a shithead,” he says once I’m back in front of the stove with my back to him.

“Who?”

“My dad.”

My jaw ticks and my fingers tighten around the spatula in my hand. I had a feeling, but hearing him confirm that it’s his own father doing this to him makes me want to tear the man apart with my bare hands.

I hear Anders take a sip of his coffee, and the scrape of the chair against the floor as he shifts in his seat, and then he goes on.

“Or maybe he was, and my mom just had a way of keeping that side of him from us.”

Like the way he’s hiding it from his brother?

“Anyway,” he says, clearing his throat while I pull the toast out of the toaster and start to butter it.

I want to turn around and go sit with him, but I think there’s a reason he started talking while I was cooking.

I think it’s hard enough for him to tell me his secrets without having to look me in the face while he does it.

“After she died, things started going bad pretty quickly. He was drinking a lot and doing drugs. I think he got into debt with some bad…” He huffs out a laugh. “Honestly, probably with the Morettis.”

I frown. “He forced you to prostitute yourself because he owed us money?” I growl through clenched teeth.

“No. He did it because he’s a greedy fucker who saw a meal ticket and took it.” Bitterness drips from Anders’s voice. I move the pan off the burner and give in to the urge to go sit with him.

I pull out the chair next to his and scoot close so my knee bumps against his. He stares into the depths of his coffee, but he lets me take his hand, curling his fingers around mine with a faraway look in his eyes.

“The first time he did it, he just brought some guy over to the house and told me I had to…” He lets out a dark laugh, and I squeeze his fingers tighter, another wave of murderous rage washing through me.

“I told him if the guy wanted a blowjob that my dad’s sloppy, drunk mouth would probably do the trick. He didn’t like that.”

He jerks his gaze away from his coffee to meet mine, a sarcastic little smile twisting on his lips before falling away again.

“Long story short, he told me that if I was going to be a ‘smart mouthed little shit about it’ he was sure Finn would be a lot more cooperative.” Fire burns in his eyes and suddenly everything makes sense.

“So, you’ve been doing it to protect your brother?”

Anders nods and lets out a breath, the tension leaking out of his body slowly as he takes another sip of his coffee.

“Don’t make me a victim, Luca. I took a bullet for my brother, and I would do it again. Okay?”

“You’re not a victim,” I agree, unable to keep the awe out of my voice. “You’re a fucking superhero.”

I wrap my arms around Anders, dragging him out of his seat and into my lap. He comes easily, sinking into me and burying his face in the crook of my neck. I moan softly as his teeth scrape along the sensitive skin of my throat, right over my thundering pulse.

“See, that’s why you can’t keep me here though. If I don’t go home and keep giving him his money, at least for another two weeks, he could go after Finn.”

“What happens in two weeks?”

“My brother graduates. He already has a job lined up on the other side of the country. My dad won’t be able to get to him, which means he won’t have anything over me anymore.

” He nuzzles my throat again and this time presses a hot, soft kiss to the same spot.

“Seventeen more days is nothing after what I’ve already done to protect him. ”

I tighten my arms around him and growl.

“No,” I say again.

There’s a knock at the door and Anders stiffens in my arms. I kiss the top of his head and then move him back into his own chair.

“Help yourself to the food. I’ll get that.

” I can tell Anders wants to argue, but I don’t give him the chance.

If it’s who I think it is at the door, then his timing is impeccable.

The only thing that’s going to keep me from going off the fucking rails to track down Anders’s father and put a bullet between his eyes immediately is…

“Uncle Sal.” I greet him as soon as I pull the door open.

He grins at me and pats me on the shoulder.

His eyes move down the length of my throat and heat creeps up my spine at the flat look he gives me.

I tug uselessly at the low collar of my t-shirt, knowing there’s nothing I can do to cover up the love bites and bruises Anders left all over me last night.

“I take it you found your man?” He smirks and steps inside.

I can hear the intentional clatter of silverware against a plate in the kitchen, and I fight back a smile at Anders’s bratty form of protest. I lead Sal into the kitchen where Anders is still at the table, violently stabbing his eggs with a fork.

“Uncle Sal, this is Anders, my—”

“Prisoner,” Anders finishes for me.

“I thought we settled on ‘boyfriend,’” I counter, returning his glare.

“Boyfriend,” he agrees sagely. “As long as ‘boyfriend’ means someone you paid for sex, stalked, and then kidnapped and won’t let leave.”

Sal makes a choking sound.

“Luca.” My uncle rumbles my name in an admonishing tone.

“Most of that is only technically true.”

“So, I can leave?” Anders says.

“No,” I say again.

He makes a feral sound and then bites into his toast so hard I’m surprised he doesn’t break a tooth.

“I wish I could say this is the messiest start to a relationship I’ve seen, but it’s not even top three,” Sal mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose.

I chuckle and go back over to Anders, making sure to stay just out of ball kicking range.

“Listen, here’s what we’re going to do,” I say gently, and Anders expression softens just a fraction.

“Can you send your dad the money you should have made last night?” He hesitates for a second, then nods.

“Okay, good. Text him and make up an excuse about why you aren’t coming home, but tell him he doesn’t need to worry, his money will still keep coming.

” When his posture relaxes a little more, I move close enough to cup his jaw and lean in close.

“I have to go have a terrifying meeting with Lorenzo this morning, so if you could lend me just a little bit of your venom, it would be extremely helpful.”

Anders huffs, but closes the last inch of space between us, nipping roughly at my bottom lip before shoving his tongue into my mouth. I moan softly and kiss him back, soaking up his strength for just a second before we break apart again.

“So, I give my dad what he wants to keep him away from Finn for now. Then what? Is that the plan for the next two weeks?” he asks.

“No. I’m going to go figure out a plan, and then we’re going to take care of this.”

His nose bumps against mine and our eyes lock. “Then I can leave?”

The question makes my throat tighten and my skin crawl.

It’s on the tip of my tongue to remind him of what I said last night.

He’s mine . I don’t care how batshit it sounds or how short a time I’ve known him, I’m not going to let him go.

I swallow that response down though. I’m going to carve out his father’s heart and hand it to him on a silver platter.

If he still wants to leave me after that…

“If you want to.”