“What?” I ask him.
“I never felt like I’d do anything and everything for him. Like I’d even betray my own family if he asked,” Tommy tells me, looking me straight in the eyes.
My throat tightens and I squeeze his forearm.
I don’t say anything, I don’t know what to say. I simply look down away from him and ignore the burning in my eyes. Weakness. I can’t show it.
“Why won’t you look at me?” he asks. “Why do you feel so guilty about what we’ve done?”
I bite my lip and my nails dig into both my jeans and his forearm, but he doesn’t flinch.
“Is it your wife?” he asks me.
My shoulders tighten and my stomach curls inside me.
“Yes,” I reply. “She…” I shake my head. I can’t even say it out loud.
Tommy turns toward me, removing the distance between our hips. His face is so close to mine.
“Tell me,” he insists.
“My wife died five years ago,” I say. “You might have guessed from her headstone that it was sudden. She was young. Younger than I ever expected either of us would…go.” I take a deep breath, and my lip trembles.
Tommy is quiet, simply letting me talk.
“The building we lived in was owned by the Bianchis. They didn’t know I was there; I keep my jobs as low-key as possible and I never, ever, worked with any of the mob. Especially not Italian mob trying to make a place for themselves in Russia.” My words come out growled at the end. “I doubt they even knew, or know, that I exist. I like it that way. I always have; but…I didn’t know they owned the building, and that was my mistake. I never would have put us there if I had.”
Tommy’s hand covers mine and he squeezes.
“They needed to cover up something. They decided to burn down the entire building,” my voice shakes as I tell him. “In the middle of the fucking night. No survivors. It didn’t matter who was in there. Mothers and their children. My wife.”
My hands ball into fists and I feel tears drip down my cheeks.
“I barely made it out alive, but it was too late for her. If I had gone to bed with her, I’d be gone too,” I choke out the words. “It’s all my fault. I should have known.”
“No,” Tommy says quickly. “It was not your fault. Those bastards lit a building on fire with God knows how many innocent people inside. But it’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known, Alek.”
“I should have, I should have known,” I look at him through blurry eyes. “I should’ve known, Tommy. And now she’s gone, and I…I feel more drawn to you than I have to anyone in years. I want to know you too, I want to feel you, for fucks sake. I want everything, Tommy. I want every single fucking part of you, but how would she feel about it? Me just moving on when she’s in the fucking ground.”
“If she loved you, she would want you to move on, Alek,” he tells me. “She wouldn’t want you to punish yourself like this.”
“Maybe she wouldn’t,” I mumble. “Maybe she wouldn’t want me to go after the Bianchi either, she’d want me to stop. She’d want me to live a normal fucking life. But I can’t.”
I shake my head and squeeze my fists together more tightly. I sniffle and blink and try to clear my eyes. “I just can’t. The Bianchi need to pay, Tommy. They need to know what it’s like to lose everything.”
Tommy’s eyes grow darker and darker and he places his free hand on my cheek. “They will, Alek. I’ll help you make sure that they do.”
My aching heart somehow manages to flutter in my chest. I place my hand on the side of his face, and I lean in closer to him, pressing my forehead against his.
“Maybe she would want me to be happy,” I mumble. “But I don’t know how. I don’t know how to do this. I’m terrified if I fallinto you, something will happen. I can’t let anything happen to you.”
“Let me show you how,” Tommy tells me. “Maybe…maybe this isn’t betraying my family. Maybe this is supposed to happen. Fuck, even if it isn’t. Maybe I don’t care anymore. I just want you, Alek. I want to feel you, know you, every part of you. You give me what I need. What no one else seems to be able to give me. So, maybe I don’t care anymore if it’s right or not.”
“Show me,” I say.
The next second, his mouth is against mine. His lips capture mine in a warm and firm embrace. He doesn’t overpower me; he gives me room to take the kiss over, and I do.
There’s still tears on my face, but I don’t care. All I care about is the taste of Tommy’s mouth. Our teeth clash together a few times in our hastiness, and I groan into his mouth. My hands find his waist and I take a handful of the back of his shirt into my fist.
