Borris jumps into my lap, and I bring him close to my chest, stroking over his handsome little face as I fall into a strange sort of comfort.
Dante sneezes again, and I grab another tissue with my toes, minimizing the effort of getting up, and laugh at his turned-up nose as he leans over to grab another one.
“That's the last time I take you on my bike. Maybe you’re bad luck,” he says. His hot breath caresses my neck, eliciting goose bumps.
“Maybe you should let me drive next time.”
“You’d leave me for dead on the back of that bike.”
I can’t help but smile as I say, “Then hold on tight.”
13
DANTE
She passed out thirty minutes ago, and despite my disdain for whatever show she’s watching—it's nothing more than women flashing around their money without class—I’ve had no desire to move.
I find her not-so-quiet snore from a blocked nose rather cute.She’s dead weight against me, and so unguarded. It’s different from her usual façades of indifference or irritation. My cock jumps at the thought of her scathing tongue, but she's something different right now, here in my arms.
Something that, dare I say, I have the urge to selfishly protect so no one else gets to see this side of her. My interest in her only grows by the day. I don’t understand it, nor do I justify any of the things I find fascinating about her. I just pursue them, and I always get what I want. Once I’m done with her, I’ll most likely discard her like all my other toys.
I wanted to worm my way deeper into my brother's personal world, simply so I could destroy it from the inside out. She was supposed to be nothing more than a stepping stone on my way to that goal, and yet here she is with her head on my chest, snoringlike a bear, holding a tiny dog on her chest. And I want toprotect her?
From what? Me?
Borris raises his head, as if feeling my insult, and licks his lips, giving me the eye.
“You’re not getting another treat,” I say to the ever-demanding dog. His appetite seems to be bottomless. “Come on, time to put her to bed.” He jumps to the floor as I slowly work around her, as carefully as I might when operating or torturing, depending on what room I’m in.
I then pick her up and wonder if this is what a "normal" life would look like. Returning to a home where I’d have a wife. Maybe children, because that's the social expectation. Could I have that if I were to truly hide and shun my demon and finalize becoming a surgeon?
Pressing her closely to my chest bridal-style, I carry her to her bedroom. I nudge open her door, and am disgusted by the pigsty she lives in. How the fuck does she move around all of these clothes?
I tuck her into bed, my eyes narrowing on what appears to be a stuffed llama. The fuck is this woman still doing with a stuffie? Yet the moment her head hits the pillow, she rolls over, mumbles something, and scoops it into her arms. My eye twitches. Yeah, I'm fucking jealous of such a small, insignificant stuffed toy.
Borris jumps up onto the bed and lies near her feet. I begin scooping the clothes off the floor because I can’t fucking stand the mess. I throw them into the hamper, then find myself dragging it out to the kitchen with the intention of doing her laundry.
I do, however, hover at the door as I leave, watching her as she sleeps. She's beautiful in every way. So innocent right now,which appeals to a primitive part of me I’ve never explored before.
Is this what normality could taste like? Watching over the same woman until we grow old together? The thought always revolted me, and I never considered I’d last long enough to reach the "silver fox" era of my life—and I wouldundoubtedly be a silver fox. I’ve just never much thought about what my future might actually look like—until now.
I close the door, leaving it slightly ajar, and put the laundry in, separating the whites and colors. My phone starts buzzing, and I look down. I expected it to be one of the hounds. I even hoped for an order from Luca because some shit was finally going down. But it’s my brother.
I consider not answering, knowing it would piss him off. Then again, my voice is the thing that pisses him off the most these days.
I’m smirking as I answer. “Miss me already, big brother?”
“Still an ignorant little shit, I see,” Lorenzo responds.
“Did you really think New York was going to change me?”
“No. But I was hoping a few weeks on the job might.”
Oh, my sweet, delusional brother. Thought of himself as a hero for providing me with what he considered a "better" life. He was kidding himself if he thought the way we were raised didn’t instill bloodlust in me the way it did him. But perhaps he thought giving me another outlet for cutting people open would appease me. For a time, I tried to convince myself of the same.
For fuckingyears,I played happy-go-lucky student and doctor. It fucking grated on my nerves until I finally snapped, and Iloathemy brother for it. And he has the audacity to think I’d actually run back home with my tail between my legs after being handed this opportunity?
“Are you kidding me? I haven’t had this much fun in ages. Well, not since the last massacre, anyway.” There’s a pause onthe other end. I knew that would get to him. It’s a taboo topic we don’t discuss, but I’m more than happy to go over the finer details.
