“What the fuck? Did you do that shit to me too?” Marco’s shocked voice gives me a little satisfaction.
“What? You thought you were immune to Seb’s mind games?” Not liking if the shit is done to him?
“I tried but you are too hard-headed to let anything take root,” Seb tells him, before turning to me again. “Since my father died, it has been harder to soothe you. That’s why I made you take care of Art. I thought kidnapping Enzino’s son would help with your impatience and restlessness. Would make you feel closer to yourvendetta’s finale. But you exceeded all my expectations.”
I can never for a moment forget that Seb is a cold, vicious, scheming motherfucker?
“Expectations? What am I, your guinea pig?” I advance toward him with the uncontrollable intention of punching him.
He doesn’t move. Doesn’t show any fear. He keeps talking. “You’ve been existing almost all your life, Luca. But lately something is different.”
“You look more grounded, more excited,” Fly interjects.
“Are you really telling me you want to go back to that empty life?”
I’m taller than Seb, and looming over him feels fucking good. I have my fist reared back. Ready.
“It was never empty. I have a purpose.”
“Feeding your hatred isn’t a purpose. Art?—”
“I hate him!” I cut Seb off with a hiss.
“I saw something else very clearly,“ he gives back, cool as a cucumber.
“You don’t know what you are talking about.” My fist is trembling, eager to hit something. Seb’s unperturbed face. But I don’t.
“Whatis he talking about?” Marco sounds curious.
“You haven’t joined the dots yet.” Seb sighs with boredom, still not taking a step back. I know how much he hates it when people invade his personal space. He’s all tensed up. Is he enduring it for me? Fuck! My fist lowers.
“Dots?”
“There are no dots to join,” I snap at Marco, grabbing the plastic bottle from the kitchen island and throwing it at a glass wall. It cracks, splashing water around. Fucking Seb and his creepy omniscient ability.
“I joined the dots!” Fly’s abrupt exclamation is emphasized even more by his pointing finger aimed at me. “You and Art!” he adds, remaining in Marco’s arms.
“That’s a crock of shit.” There’s no me and anybody.
Pushing someone away is not easy, but for me, letting someone in is fucking grueling. Art? Impossible.
“You were having sex,” Seb feels the need to say.
“Oh, you took the word torture to a new level, didn’t you, dickface?” Marco sneers, and I flip him off.
“It was just fucking.”
“But you did it more than once.” Fly studies me as I take another cigar and walk back to the windows. “Art never goes for seconds.”
I clench my jaw. Pushing away the memories of his sunshine and apple scent surrounding me while I sank my cock all the way inside him. He was an amazing fuck.
“And he also left you this note…” Fly continues, lifting the wrinkled paper. “Can’t you see what it means, or are you pretending not to?”
“How he tricked me, you mean? Over and over,” I snap, taking a long puff from my cigar. He could have left, really left but decided to stay to fuck with me.
It’s Marco’s turn now. “Well, you kidnapped him and treated him like shit.”
“He liked it,” I growl. Art liked it so much that he came on my cock every fucking time, begging for more.
