Atticus believed him. “Noted.”
Felix rose, elegant all the way to the tips of his long fingers. “I’ll let my brother and the others know we’ve reached an…understanding.”
“Thank you.”
With a single nod, he was gone, leaving Atticus staring after him. Putting Felix and Avi in the same building together had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now, Atticus wasn’t so sure. The twins loved killing. They excelled at it. According to Jericho, Felix did as well.
Avi was an asshole. A total pain in the ass, who ran his fashion label like a military operation. Felix didn’t strike Atticus as the type to take orders. He wasn’t sure who he felt more sorry for. Actually, no. It was definitely Avi. Felix was going to blow through his brother’s life like a pint-size wrecking ball, and Atticus couldn’t help but smile.
The clash of egos would be legendary. They’d either kill each other or take over the world. Either way, it was bound to be entertaining.
* * *
Atticus laid between Jericho’s jean-clad thighs, head on his belly as he threaded his fingers through his hair. Some random movie played in the background, but Atticus stared up at the skylight overhead. The sun had set, but the moon lit the clouds against an indigo sky. There was too much light pollution to see the stars but none of that mattered.
Atticus didn’t care about the movie or the unruly boys downstairs or even the skylight above. All he cared about was Jericho’s touch, the heat of his skin, the soft fabric of his jeans pressing against his shoulders. It was soothing in a way he never thought possible, more relaxing than any pill.
It was strange how quickly he had come to crave Jericho’s constant petting. It was…odd feeling so connected to one person, to feel totally at ease. No amount of familiarity had ever allowed him to relax his fear of embarrassment, of never being good enough for his family. But there was none of that with Jericho.
“What are you cooking me for dinner tonight, Freckles?” Jericho murmured, voice tinged with humor.
Atticus snorted. “If you want me to cook here, my guess would be something served out of a Styrofoam cup or box mac and cheese.”
Jericho nudged Atticus’s shoulder with his thigh. “Hey, don’t knock box mac and cheese. That cheese sauce sticks to your ribs.”
Atticus curled an arm around that same thigh, craning his head upwards. “Yes, because it’s made of plastic and toxic chemicals.”
Jericho rolled his eyes. “It is not.”
Atticus sniffed delicately. “Well, it certainly smells that way.”
Before Jericho could retort, Felix appeared in the open doorway, winded.
“What’s up?” Jericho asked as Felix fought for breath.
“We caught that dude you were looking for trying to break in. He cut Arsen.”
Jericho said, “How bad?” At the same time Atticus said, “What dude?”
Felix looked between the two of them. “The one with the scar on his face. The enforcer guy. And Arsen’s bleeding a lot. It’s not deep, but it definitely needs stitches.”
“Which way did he go?” Atticus asked.
Felix gave him a look like he was stupid. “He didn’t go anywhere. We have him tied up downstairs. He just took a hunting knife to Arsen first. If we take him to the hospital they’re going to ask questions.”
Atticus nodded towards his keys on the slightly sagging dresser. “My car’s still here from the other night. Under the trunk floor, there’s a locker. 0323 is the code. Inside, you’ll see something that looks like a tackle box. Bring it to me. I can sew him up here.”
Felix gave him a look. “I thought you, like, studied rats and shit.”
“I’m still a board certified physician.” At Felix’s dubious look, Atticus said, “Or we could just let him bleed if you want?”
Felix gave a dramatic sigh. “He’s lying on the pool table.”
“Where’s Carlos?” Jericho asked.
Felix furrowed his brow. “Who?”
Jesus, this was turning into a ‘who’s on first’ situation.
