Page 62 of Mine

“It’s not romantic to kill people,” I told José. “Or do any of the things your family does.”

“No,” he agreed. “But people get rich off illegal shit every day. Ours is just easier to see.”

“It’s still a rationalization.”

“Of course it is. So what?”

I finally took a sip of my cognac. “God, that’s good.”

“That’s the difference between the shit you drink and five grand.”

A five thousand-dollar bottle of liquor…. Christ.

“That’s gonna be you, man.”

In for a penny, in for a pound. “Okay.”

He grinned suddenly. “Come on, have a fuckin’ cigar.”

“Pass it over.”

His smile was huge and lit his face. “Atta boy.”

“SO WHAT do you think?” I asked Landry as I lay in bed beside him hours later. We had both showered and changed and were lying in the darkness side by side. José had put us in his own car with his driver to take us home, which was very nice of him and saved us a small fortune.

“I dunno,” he said, rolling over against me, pressing into my side, his arm sliding across my chest. “What do you think?”

“I don’t want to ever hurt people.”

“Not on purpose without provocation, no,” he agreed. “But it’s stupid to think that it won’t happen. The business you’re in, c’mon, Trev, your hands will get dirty.”

“Yeah.”

“And if it’s ever between you and someone else… you better come home to me, you understand?”

“No, I know, I just, I’m not gonna shoot someone because of money,” I said, my hand on his ass, rubbing gently and then sliding up to the small of his back.

He moved, groin against my thigh, his leg draped between mine, his head on my chest, under my chin. I wanted him really close, tight around me so I was feeling his presence, the beat of his heart. There were times, like this, when it was hard to tell who the needy one really was.

“I would kill anyone that tried to hurt you or my mother or—”

“I know,” he interrupted me gently. “But that’s not what we’re talking about.”

“This is a big deal. I have to figure out how deep into this I’m gonna be. And you, I mean, you have a legitimate business that maybe shouldn’t be tainted with ‘oh, that’s the guy with the thug boyfriend’.”

He started giggling.

“I’m serious.”

“I’ll be a gangster’s moll.”

“Listen, wise guy—”

“Oh! A pun.”

I groaned so he’d know how annoying he was, but when I tried to shove him away, he just tightened his hold on me.

“Gimme a kiss.”