They left with an awkward wave from Gregor while Santo looked on. He asked if I needed anything, but what I needed had just walked out the door and out of my life.
I was back to where I’d started the summer. Alone.
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
BASIL
Leaving George hurt–andnot just in the metaphorical sense. Seeing him in only a towel, water dripping down his smooth back and furry chest, one slip away from bearing it all… I was aching in my cage.
Asking if I could come wasn’t in the plan.
If I could even call it a plan. I panicked. George had locked me up and thrown away the key, and I didn’t know what to do when he left me untethered.
Then, when the man I’d been calling Daddy for two days walked in looking like a Roman god, I only had one thing on my mind. George ruled my body, and I was turned the fuck on. I had to ask him for permission. But he said no.
“You wanted to be free of me, and now you are.”
The tears I’d fought back before threatened a return. I was free of him, and I only had myself to blame for being upset. I’d grown attached, despite George never giving an inkling he wanted more than what he agreed to with my boss.
Hell, we barely knew each other. I didn’t know his favorite color or if he watched sports. The framed photo of two teens suggested children, but I didn’t know how recent it was. He didn’t know the first thing about me, either.
Except how to turn me on in ways I never imagined.
Squirming in my seat, feeling uncomfortable from the ache in my hole and an unstoppable boner after days of it being contained, I caught Gregor’s attention. “You alright, cuz?”
Gregor had always been more American than the rest of us. He was born in San Francisco, his father the brother of our former Boss, Felix’s father. Their sister was my mom, but they weren’t close. Stefan had told me not to be like his son, who favored dance clubs and being flashy with his wealth. Still, he was always supportive and loving to Gregor. Gregor was more of an annoying big brother type, and not who I wanted to open up to.
“Da, why wouldn’t I be?” I pulled the knee closest to him up and wrapped my arms around it. I had to hide the awkward erection and put on a brave face.
“Because the man you tried to kill held you captive fordays,” Gregor dragged the last word out for emphasis as he drove us over the Bay Bridge. “And you were messed up enough by Greco to call my dad to come pick you up.”
Blin. I hadn’t thought of a way to explain George’s brand of torture that didn’t sound like I had a three night stay as his personal rent boy. Oakland was a speck in the side mirror, disappearing when we turned towards the Treasure Island tunnel. I needed to forget my time there as easily.
“I’d rather not talk about it.”
For once, Gregor let me drop the topic and the rest of our drive into the city was blessedly silent. When we got to his apartment, my cousin reached a hand out for my arm but stopped when I flinched. “I’m here if you need anything. Felix and Maksim want a debriefing at their place tomorrow.”
Grunting in the affirmative, I made my way to the room I’d only spent a few weeks in. I put my phone on the charger, and when I saw how many notifications I missed, I put it in airplane mode. I didn’t have any friends. And the only family I had had let George keep me.
Nothing could hold my attention, and I paced, finally taking a shower and throwing on jeans and a long sleeved shirt. I needed to move, not stay cooped up in another bedroom. Everything made me think of George, and I wanted out.
Brushing through the living area, I almost escaped unnoticed, but Gregor walked out and saw me. “Where are you going?”
“I need some air,” I unlocked the door and swung it open. “I will be back before dark.”
Gregor tried to say something, but I was already out of the door, taking the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator. I was a few blocks away when I realized I forgot my phone and wallet. I wasn’t going back for them, though.
A walk was what landed me chained to a bed, but I avoided the Tenderloin with one destination in mind.
“Vasily, welcome back,” Conor greeted me in his lilting accent, a wide grin on his face.
“Hello, Conor,” I replied, taking a seat at the far end of the bar. “I’m ready for another glass of that whiskey I bought.”
“Delightful, coming right up.”
He rapped the bar top with his knuckles, and I brought me back to before. Before everything blew up. Before I lost my sense of self. Before George.
“How’ve ye been, mate?” Conor poured into the glass he’d placed before me, and I gestured for more. He stopped at two fingers and eyed me, “If yer wanting to get drunk and not taste it, I’ve got cheaper stuff.”
