Page 76 of He Should Be Mine

Molly stops coughing. He lowers the handkerchief. Under his nose is all glistening and wet.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were sick!” snaps Riccardo.

Molly does a very good job of looking crestfallen. “Sorry, Daddy,” he croaks sadly. “It’s just a cold.”

Riccardo grimaces. “You look disgusting. I can’t fuck you like that. I don’t want to get sick.”

His green eyes flash at me, adding me to his accusations.

“You’ve both wasted my time!” he snarls.

My fingers twitch. They want to slide to my side where my holster is. I’ve learned my lesson from last time. I’m never going to be in the same room as Riccardo while unarmed ever again. He is too volatile. Far too unpredictable.

“Didn’t know you were planning on coming, Boss,” I say. If he is going to be angry, I want him to direct it at me.

“Sorry Daddy, I just missed you so much and I’m not as sick as when I was in the hospital.”

Molly is pouting. His eyes have gone all puppy-dog and pleading. Jesus wept. If Riccardo can resist this, then I was wrong about him, and he is a better man than me.

Riccardo huffs. “Next time tell me. My time is precious!”

I doubt sneaking down four flights of stairs is all that time consuming. But that’s a thought I’m keeping to myself.

Riccardo stomps towards the door.

“But Daddy!” Molly wails as if he truly doesn’t want him to leave. “Who’s going to look after me and make me all better?”

Riccardo looks over his shoulder. “That’s what Dario is for.”

The words land like a punch. They sink into me and burrow deep.If only you knew how true that is.I want to say, but can’t. I’ll just have to bottle it up with everything else that is festering inside me. When the day comes that I get to unleash it all, it’s going to be like unbottling a supernova.

Riccardo’s footsteps echo down the hallway. The front door opens and slams shut. He’s gone. It worked.

Molly laughs. A true, hearty laugh. He glances up at the camera and starts fake coughing instead. But I can see the mirth in his eyes.

He dabs at his nose with the handkerchief. “Ew, I do not recommend smearing lube around your nose. It’s disgusting. But hey, the many uses of lube never cease to amaze me.”

Chuckling, I step towards him and hold out the drink I poured for Riccardo. “It’s good stuff. Shame to waste it.”

Molly grins and steps towards me. We meet in the middle of the room. He reaches for the tumbler and our fingers touch. It doesn’t spark like electricity, it soothes like a cold drink after a hot day. His touch is right. It is where I belong.

Neither of us are moving. We are standing here staring at each other, fingers wrapped around a cut-glass tumbler that is held in the air between us. Both of us are freezing this moment as if we never want it to end.

Is he feeling something too? Can he feel how right this is? Does he know he belongs with me?

The redness in his eyes is clearing up. Whatever he did to make them bloodshot is fading. Not that it ever distracted from his beauty. He shines from within and that cannot be dimmed.

I can see how wonderful he is, but I cannot read what he is thinking. He is skilled at keeping parts of himself hidden. I hope that one day he trusts me with all the pieces of him.

He moves suddenly, flashing me a false smile and breaking the spell. He takes the whisky. I release it.

He curls up in his spot on the sofa. I take my place at the other end. The place between us is plumper than the two ends. It has rarely been used. The things that keep me andMolly apart do not need a physical presence. They are far more powerful than that.

Molly raises his glass. “To cunning plans.”

I bite back my dry, humorless laugh. If only Molly knew how apt that toast is.

I raise mine in salute and then knock the amber liquid back. It burns down my throat. And just for a moment, it is the only pain I feel.