Page 23

ANDERS

A knock on the door mid-morning makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

Luca’s at work, and I can’t think of any reason he would knock if he was coming home early.

I’ve been curled up on the couch, drinking coffee and using Luca’s laptop to browse through the university course catalog, indulging in the fantasy of enrolling in some classes at some point.

I set my coffee mug and the laptop on the coffee table and get up off the couch slowly, listening hard for any sign of who might be at the door.

Honestly, I don’t know what the fuck I’m expecting to hear.

It’s not like whoever it is will be standing outside the door monologuing to themselves about who they are and why they’re here.

The twisting sensation in my gut is insistent that somehow my dad figured out I’m here and has come to drag me home.

I sent him money again this morning though, so I doubt he gives a fuck where I am, at least for now.

The wood floor creaks under my foot in the entryway.

I cringe and freeze. Another sharp knock echoes through the otherwise quiet apartment.

I hold my breath and lean in to peek through the peephole, praying that I’m not about to die some horrifying Mafia movie death where the villain on the other side of the door riddles me with bullets from a machine gun.

I don’t see a gun, luckily. The dude standing in the hallway looks like a twinky punk rocker, with messy blond hair, a leather jacket, and ripped jeans.

His hands are shoved into his pockets now, and aside from his general don’t-fuck-with-me energy, he doesn’t look particularly menacing.

As if he can hear me on the other side of the door, he looks directly at the peephole.

Even though I know he can’t see me, I shrink back.

“Should I have asked Luca for some kind of safeword to let you know it’s okay to open the door?

Or does he actually have you tied up in there?

Shout if you’re handcuffed to a radiator.

” His tone is full of a kind of sarcastic amusement that reminds me of myself…

or maybe who I used to be, who I want to be.

Fuck it.

I punch in the code to disarm the alarm but slide the chain into place just in case. Then, I pull the door open an inch. The man flashes me a toothy smile.

“Hey. It’s Anders, right? I know this is weird, but I’m not here to murder you or kidnap you or anything.” He pulls his hands out of his pockets and holds them up, showing me he’s unarmed.

I drag my gaze over the rest of him, from his zipped jacket down to the combat boots on his feet, wondering where he might be hiding weapons if he had any. He chuckles and runs one hand through his hair.

“I’m Sparrow.” He introduces himself even though I still haven’t said a word. “I’m in a relationship with Xaviaro. He works for—”

“Lorenzo,” I finish for him, swallowing hard. “Is telling me you’re dating the most notorious hitman in the city supposed to make me trust you more?”

Sparrow’s lips twitch. “That’s fair, I probably shouldn’t have led with that.

Let’s try this.” He reaches into the front pocket of his jeans and I tense, even though they’re tight enough that I would see a weapon if he had one stashed there.

He pulls out a credit card and waves it in front of me.

“I was in the meeting yesterday between Luca and Lorenzo, and then I was up all night thinking about it.” I bristle, and he grimaces but goes on.

“So, I tracked down your man this morning and bullied him into giving me his credit card so I could take you shopping. I figured you had to ditch most of your stuff, am I right?”

He looks me up and down through the narrow gap in the doorway. I shift to hide myself a little more, but I know he’s already seen that I’m wearing more of Luca’s clothes, all of them too baggy on me to be confused for my own.

“Why?” I ask, frowning and closing the door another fraction of an inch. What is with all these Morettis and their unnatural interest in me?

His jaw hardens but the look in his eyes gets softer. “Because selling your soul for your brother is something I can relate to.” He shoves the card back into his pocket and shrugs. “And because I could use a friend other than Xaviaro.”

“Yeah, okay. Why the hell not?” I chuckle and ease my grip on the door. “Do you mind if we make a stop at the pawn shop and the bank while we’re out too?”

I undo the chain and throw the door all the way open so he can come in while I put on my shoes and grab my bag.

“Sure, I’ve got all day. I’ll even throw in lunch.”

“Deal.”

A few minutes later, we’re headed down the block, away from Luca’s apartment.

I take a deep breath, feeling the warmth of the air in my nostrils, along with the smell of car exhaust and the fried food scent coming from some nearby restaurants.

This isn’t the most high-end area of the city—it’s probably only a step or two up from where I’ve been living—but it’s weird how even the air smells different in the parts of Wildcliff where people have more money.

I laugh and Sparrow looks over at me with a curious expression, waiting for me to share the joke.

I shake my head.

“Just thinking about how fucking weird this all is. A week ago, I was at Wonderland just fucking praying that I’d be able to stomach whoever flashed me a wad of cash for the night, and now I’m out for a gal pal shopping trip with some rocker twink mafioso.”

He snorts. “I am literally none of those things. Well, okay, I guess you’re technically right about the ‘twink’ part. But rocker mafioso? Not so much.”

“You don’t work for the Morettis?”

Sparrow flashes me a cocky smile. “They fucking wish. I’m more of an independent contractor.

It’s a win-win since that way, they get to utilize my skills, but I don’t have to play by any of their rules.

” He winks, then grabs my arm and pulls me through the door of a clothing store.

It’s a menswear boutique with options ranging from suits to casual t-shirts and jeans.

Not a single item of slutty clubwear in sight, and for that I am fucking grateful.

He gives me a little space to browse, but doesn’t stray too far.

He tosses me an item here or there while carrying on a stream of casual chatter, from complaints about how the new barista at his favorite coffee shop keeps fucking up his morning coffee order to what he’s been binge watching lately.

I join in with similar, and it all just feels so normal .

I’m not sure what my budget is, so I don’t go too crazy.

But by the time I’m done, I’ve got a handful of jeans and t-shirts in various colors, along with enough underwear and socks that I can feel like a normal person with all of my own stuff.

I shove the receipt into my pocket after I pay and promise myself I’ll pay Luca back eventually.

“So, is it terrifying sleeping next to the Ice Man?” I ask once we’re back outside, headed for the nearest pawn shop a few blocks over.

Sparrow barks out a laugh. “Xav? Scary?” He snickers a little more. “No. Don’t tell him I told you, but he’s the squishiest murder muffin who’s ever lived.”

My eyes widen and I choke back my own amusement. “Yeah, if I ever meet the fucking Grim Reaper, I can assure you that I will not call him a murder muffin.”

He loops his arm through mine while we walk and lowers his voice just a little. “His birthday is coming up next week, and I got him a collar with a tag that says ‘good boy’ on it.”

I gasp and gape at him, nearly running into a lamppost in the process. Sparrow tugs me out of the way just in time and cackles at my shock.

“Luca would probably love a collar,” I confess, and Sparrow smirks like I just confirmed his suspicion.

“I wonder if any of the other Morettis are good boys.” I grin wider right along with him.

“You think it’s possible that everyone is pissing themselves over the subbiest bunch of cinnamon rolls alive?

By day, they rule Wildcliff with terror and bullets, and by night, they all go home, put on feety pajamas, and kneel for pretty twinks? ”

He flattens his lips together like he’s trying not to say too much, then taps his nose and waggles his eyebrows at me.

“There’s something hot about it,” he says. “Seeing Xav take someone out without flinching, knowing he’s going to be whimpering with my tongue in his mouth and my hand around his throat later.” Sparrow sighs happily and then reaches down to adjust himself shamelessly.

My skin heats as Luca fills my mind. I’ve noticed the same thing he’s talking about, watching Luca go from commanding and dangerous to gentle and submissive in the blink of an eye.

“Yeah, it’s pretty fucking hot.”

We reach the pawn shop and I head up to the counter while Sparrow wanders farther into the shop.

My palms sweat as I reach into my messenger bag to pull out the baggie of jewelry and watches.

I’m sure I’m not the first person to come in here and pawn stolen items. Hell, I’m probably not even the first person this morning.