“What is thisLittle House on the Prairiemoment? Let’s barf some rainbows, and piss melted caramel, then.” I give him a little smirk.
“Are you serious? I almost fainted when I found out about the shooting. Instead of telling me, you asked for a dildo—” I cut off his high-pitched voice—which has reached alien frequencies—before he reveals to Luca that I contacted him using the phone hidden inside my panties.
“You are blowing out my ears. Gosh, Fly, use your inside voice,” I whine, pushing him off a little. “Now let me see that engagement ring.”
He glares at me, but then can’t resist and shows me his hand where a princess-cut diamond is sitting all pretty.
“What a beau-ty.” Marco does have taste.
“Luca looks angry,” Fly states, looking behind me.
“Your instincts are spot on,” Luca confirms.
“When aren’t you angry?” My rhetorical question is completely ignored.
“How did you know he wanted a dildo, Fly?” Luca’s question seems to short-circuit my friend’s brain. How did he keep hisshared past hidden from Marco for weeks before he was found out?
Fuck, I need to find a reasonable explanation quickly. “Carlo!” I blurt out without thinking.
“Yes!” Fly seems to regain some brain cells. “I heard him talking to Marco about Art wanting a sex toy and other…stuff.”
I’m dead.
Luca snarls all his fury, turning his eyes toward the door. But then his body freezes, and he narrows his eyes at me, “How did you know Fly heard it from Carlo?”
I’m dead and buried under a thick layer of soil.
“What’s with all the questions? Do you think I’m lying?” Fly’s surprised tone makes me pause. I’d have bought his hurt expression if I didn’t know he was lying his custom-made panties off.
Luca opens his mouth and then closes it again. His eyes dart from me to Fly before he finally lets it go. Wow. Okay, I’m learning a new side to my friend and I’m a little intimidated.
“I brought everything! Ta-da,” Fly exclaims, ending his performance to raise the bag he dropped on the floor when he hugged me.
I smile at him, maybe too brightly since I feel Luca’s suspicious glare on me.
I’m dead, buried, and half-eaten by worms at this point.
“Butterfly, why didn’t you wait for me?” Marco Moretti makes his way into the condo, looking all dark and commanding. Are those attributes required to become a Leone boss? Since they allseem to possess them. He’s shorter than Luca, less brawny, more beardy, but equally daunting.
Fly almost runs to him and kisses his cheek. “I couldn’t wait. I needed to be sure Art was fine. Santo was with me.” He points to his bodyguard standing near Carlo.
“What are you doing here?” Luca asks Marco.
“I tried calling, but your fucking phone is always busy.” Marco sniffs, tapping his pack of cigarettes until one slides out. He lights it and moves toward the open window, followed by Luca.
As they start confabulating, I turn to Fly. “Did you bring it?”
“Yes.” He’s still fidgeting. “It’s in here.” He pats his enormous shoulder bag. “I didn’t have time to hide it among the other things.”
“So what’s in the plastic bag?” I point at the one in his hand as I go back to the nuts.
He places it on the island and takes out a carton of ice cream—half pistachio, half chocolate—with a pack of chocolate chips and a can of whipped cream. Saint Fly, just added to the ecclesiastical register.
“Ice cream is Satan’s loyalty reward points,” I giggle, already imagining the sweetness on my tongue.
Fly chuckles, then pulls out an electrical toothbrush, an ice mask, a family-size pack of pretzels, and a nail care kit. He holds the bag open to show me packs of my favorite candy, pretzels, and chips. I don’t tell him Luca filled the cupboard with them already, because the reason behind it still confuses me a little.
“Where’s my dildo?” I move the packs around but don’t see a silicone phallic-shaped dick among them.
