I hate seeing his hands on Benjamin. Hate that he knows what the baby mouse feels and sounds like, that they had more time together. It makes me want to mark him up, to leave a claiming bite on every inch of skin possible. And Benjamin would let me. Because he’s mine, and he knows it. He might hate the idea of it at first, hate that I see him as something I need to stake a claim in, but he’d also be lying if he tried to say the dangerous parts of me, the one that wants to lock him away and keep him to myself, isn’t part of the attraction.
Benjamin brings out the worst of the monster, and he never shies away from it. So, he can have Ignacio, if he wants. I’ll just remind him, over and over, and over again, who his heart, body, soul, and blood now belong to. There’s plenty of room inthat generous heart of his for both Chaos and I, and if my Baby Mouse needs another lesson as proof, my knife and I are ready.
“I won’t hurt him,” Ignacio says. “I’ve learned my lesson. I just want him to be happy. Don’t you want the same?”
I barely glance at him and I see a need for me to understand, to give him permission to have what will never solely be his again. Too bad it’s not my choice to make, it never was, and that’s the hardest part of all this.
“I’m heading out. I don’t know how long it’ll take. Please let him know, and tell him that he can call me if he needs to once he's awake.”
I turn for the door. “Tennant.”
I should keep walking, but…I have to at least pretend to try. Looking back at Ignacio, I meet his dark, sleep-filled eyes. “Don’t give him a hard time about this. He needed sleep.”
I sneer at him. “He can have whatever he wants and needs, I’d never begrudge that. I pay attention to everything there is about him, and will never keep him from it. I'll only be there to prop him up if he needs me to.” I stare at him for a moment. “If you’re worried that this,” I motion between the two of them, “needs an explanation, or is wrong in any way, or that I somehow will be upset over it, then maybe youarein the wrong. I don’t have to like it; all I need to do is respect him and his choices. Questioning and wondering what I may do simply tells me you still aren’t listening to him properly, and you don’t deserve him.”
Leaving Benjamin is hard, more than I expected, but my excursion needs to be done sooner rather than later, so I force myself to continue on with my mission without a look back.
“How many clothes can one toy have?” I mutter, shifting through the clothes rack in Roman’s former closet.
Hollis chuckles in my ear.“He likes options.”
Options, sure, we’ll call it that. Never mind that he technically had three other closets full of shit, on top of this one in his fathers’ apartment. There's the one Roman, Hol, and I shared in the apartment downstairs, the one we shared with Jude at the main house, and his childhood bedroom’s at the main house. Who knew one tiny person could accumulate so many clothes.
Pulling out a few skirt suits that I hope Roman will like, I pull out as many of what he calls “fun” skirts as well—ones that are for everyday wear versus belonging with any one suit. The boy has plenty of regular suits, but the only time he’s worn pants since the Bosses were taken was on the rescue mission. I don’t think he has plans to go back to pants unless absolutely necessary.
It doesn’t matter to me what he wears, pants or skirt, it's whatever the little shit feels most comfortable in. Considering I’m the first one who ever saw him in a skirt when he was ten, I know how much being able to wear what he wants means to him.
I try not to think of the trust he showed me that day, or how significant it was that he told me about his more feminine style before he went to his father…
There are certain things I try very hard not to think about when it comes to Roman, and my position in his life before we got together is one of them. Second only to when he first started having sex—though that is for very different reasons.
“Ten…”Hollis doesn’t have to finish his sentence, I know what he must be seeing on the cameras without him having to spell it out.
“No one engages,” I tell my team. “I don’t want any interruptions. Unless you believe your or my life is in danger, you are to stand back.”
I get a round of affirmatives, and pick up the stack of clothes I’ve pulled out for Roman.
“Is Hollis’s office all packed up?” I ask as I make my way to the living room and stop to wait there, setting the clothes over the back of a chair.
“Yes, sir. I think we got everything he and young Mr. Mason requested. I made sure to follow their instructions to a T in order to disconnect everything.”
“Good. You’re free to leave. The sooner those two can get set up and start working, the better.”
There’s hesitation before the confirmation comes over the line.
“Everyone else, hold your position for now.”
Another round of “Yes, sir,” and then the comms beeps and Hollis says,“Private channel. Highly doubt you want everyone to hear whatever bullshit Cristian has to say.”
“Thank you, Tesoro.”
“Stepping off the elevator now,”he replies.
I’ve long since had the time between the elevator and front door memorized, so silently, I count down. Crossing my ankles, I shove my hands into my pockets as I lean against the chair while the front door opens and slams shut in the foyer.
Every click of Cristian’s shoes on the hardwood has the darker, baser part of me wanting to come out to play. The loyal part, the one that remembers where we came from, how far we’ve gone for one another, says this is wrong. But the other part…the one that I refuse to acknowledge exists, tells me thateverything I do is because of thefeelingsI have for Roman and Benjamin.
The sight of Cristian, with his gray suit, perfectly combed hair, black eyes with dark circles under them, and it seems like more gray in his close-cropped beard than just days ago…it hardens something in me.
