by Andrew Grey
“Sorry. I guess I’m used to just telling people what I think.” Salvatore held Elliott tighter. “So saying that you should just try to go back to sleep probably sounds pretty hollow.”
Elliott lightly smacked him on the arm. “Yeah. You work on that.” He smiled, because this was the weirdest conversation and yet he did feel better.
“Okay. I will.”
Elliott rolled back over and closed his eyes as Salvatore pressed even closer. “I wish all of this were over.” It was easy to say, but things like this didn’t just resolve themselves. He didn’t move and heard Salvatore’s breathing even out as he fell into sleep, but Elliott’s mind was on overdrive, and he spent too much time thinking about his stepfather and everything he knew about him. There had to be something, some piece of information that they could use against him. He just needed to figure out what that was.
“Try to sleep,” Salvatore said some time later.
“I didn’t mean to keep you up,” Elliott whispered. He’d tried not to move so he wouldn’t disturb him.
“You have to be exhausted, and running over things in your head again and again isn’t going to help. It will only keep you up and worrying.” Salvatore shifted on the mattress. “Take off your T-shirt and lie on your belly for me.” He got out of bed and went to the bathroom.
Elliott pulled off his shirt as he wondered what Salvatore was up to. Then he lay down, closing his eyes, his mind still racing.
When Salvatore returned to the bedroom, he turned on the light on the far side of the room, and it provided just enough glow to see by. Elliott lay still and only turned his head so he could watch Salvatore. He was sexy as hell, bare to the waist, drawing closer. Then he straddled Elliott’s legs, the scent of cinnamon, earthy and soothing, tickled his nose, and slowly, Salvatore ran his hands over Elliott’s shoulders.
“God, that’s good,” Elliott moaned softly. His breathing became deeper as a bubble of calm slowly formed around them. It was almost palpable, with the outside world and all its demands and pressures slowly falling away. It was amazing, but those pressures kept trying to push their way back.
“That’s it. Just let go. It takes a few minutes….” Salvatore slowly but firmly stroked down Elliott’s back and to the curve of his butt before going upward again, Elliott groaning under the pressure of those amazing hands. “Breathe deep and slow. Let everything go.”
“I’m trying.” God, that was amazing, and Elliott wanted to just give himself over to him.
“Close your eyes.” Salvatore returned to Elliott’s shoulders, where he was holding a ton of tension, and slowly worked the muscles, getting them to release and let go. Elliott’s arms flopped next to him, and he had no will to move them at all. It took some doing, but his muscles finally relaxed, and Salvatore worked downward, following the tension and getting it out of Elliott’s body. “That’s a lot better.”
Elliott hummed and didn’t really say anything. He was finally relaxing toward sleep and slowed his movements.
“I’ll do an entire body massage on you some other time. For now, I just want you to be able to rest.”
“Yeah…,” Elliott breathed. “Think I can do that now.”
Salvatore leaned forward and lightly kissed the back of his neck. “Go to sleep, and we can deal with anything else in the morning.” He shifted down onto the mattress, and Elliott slowly moved over to give him some room. Elliott closed his eyes, and his mind seemed to have finally settled. He didn’t allow anything to puncture the bubble around him, and as Salvatore hugged him close, Elliott felt protected. Finally, after hours of internal turmoil, he fell to sleep.
HE WOKE in the morning to a chime from his phone. He hated that sound, especially at this time of the morning, with Salvatore right next to him. He didn’t want to wake up, not for a second, but he forced his eyes open enough to reach for his burner phone and silence the damn thing. He froze at the display. He knew that number, the one from his stepfather’s private line in his office. Elliott stared at the number as the phone rang and then grew quiet.
“What is it?” Salvatore asked groggily. “Does Bull need something?”
Elliott shook his head, unable to speak, and showed Salvatore the phone. “It was my stepfather. He managed to get my number.” He dropped the phone on the bedding like it was going to scorch him. “What do I do?”
“Nothing.” Salvatore sat up, the bedding pooling around his waist. “Don’t answer it. Did you set up the voicemail?”
“No,” Elliott said.
“Good. He’s either trying to unnerve you or is fishing to see if this is the right number. After breakfast we’ll get you a new phone and number and dump this one.” Salvatore smiled. “Or we can give it to a friend and send your stepfather on a wild goose chase.” Elliott liked that prospect. “I have a friend who’s going to be leaving for the West Coast in a few days. I’ll see if he’ll put the phone in his bag and take it with him. The guy is a bit of a conspiracy theorist, so he loves stuff like this.” Salvatore chuckled. “He’d do it just to stick it to someone.”
“Okay.” The last thing Elliott wanted was to touch the phone again. And as if to punctuate that sentiment, it began to ring again.
Salvatore picked it up and powered it down, cutting off the chimes midsequence. “Let’s get something to eat, and then I’ll call Halston.” Salvatore got out of bed, and Elliott couldn’t help watching him in only his shorts.
“You know that’s not fair.”
“What?”
“You walking around like that. It’s enough to make a guy want to jump you.” Elliott got up as well and walked to where Salvatore stood in front of his dresser. Elliott put his arms around Salvatore’s waist, resting his head in the middle of Salvatore’s back, inhaling his earthy scent and trying to calm his racing nerves. Salvatore was rock solid and steady, his body hard and unyielding, yet his skin was soft, and Elliott glided his hands over it, taking in the ridges of his belly. “Just when I think I might have some sort of control or idea about what’s going on, he manages to turn things on edge.” He tightened his grip and took some of the strength from Salvatore. “I hate that. He thinks he can control everything and everyone, reach them no matter where they are.” It sucked, and not in a good way at all. “I want him gone.” Elliott sighed and closed his eyes, holding Salvatore in the quiet morning.
Salvatore’s phone rang, and Elliott tensed, hoping to hell it wasn’t his stepfather. Salvatore answered it and spoke quickly before hanging up.
“Is everything okay?” Elliott really didn’t want to know. The thought of his stepfather causing more trouble set his teeth on edge, but he was just being jumpy. It couldn’t have been him.
“It’s fine. That was my mother. She was asking if I was on my way to Philadelphia.” Salvatore groaned softly. “I forgot that I had promised her I’d see her today. Sunday is her day off, and….” He sighed. “I’ll just call her back and explain.”
“No.” Elliott didn’t want to come between Salvatore and his mom. “You go see her. I’ll call….” God, he realized that he didn’t have any real friends. “I’ll figure something out.” Elliott didn’t want to move, but life was intervening. “I can hide out at the mall or something for the day. Buy a new phone.”
Salvatore sighed and released him. “Get dressed. I’m not leaving you here, and my mother would kill me if I had someone staying with me and she missed a chance to try out some new recipe on them.” Salvatore flashed him a smile. “Come on. You take the bathroom first, and I’ll get things together while you clean up.” He left the room after giving Elliott a lingering look that sent a spike of warmth through him. Elliott went into the bathroom on unsteady legs and closed the door.
He started the water, shaved and brushed his teeth quickly, then took a fast shower. When he returned to the bedroom in a towel, Salvatore was waiting his turn, and it took all Elliott’s willpower not to jump the guy. Every time he looked at Salvatore now, heat seared through him and certain parts of hi
s body grew more than a little interested. Still, they were supposed to be in a hurry, so as soon as Salvatore disappeared into the bathroom, Elliott pulled on his clothes, thankful they weren’t too tight, and went to the living room, because if he saw Salvatore come out of that bathroom—wet, with his jet-black hair glistening and beads of water sliding over his lightly tanned skin—he was going to fucking lose it and they were never going to make it to Philadelphia.
He also needed a chance to think without the walking, breathing distraction that was Salvatore. Elliott had to get his head where it belonged, and as much as he would love to start things with Salvatore—after all, the guy was a knight in shining armor, and how many of those were there out there? Elliott knew it wasn’t many—he couldn’t let anyone get sucked into his stepfather’s world, and that was already starting to happen. He stared out the window and tried to think of what the hell he needed to do. Elliott wanted to get away from his stepfather, and he knew the only way to do that was to take him down. Nothing short of that would ever get the man to stop.
There was only one way for him to be able to do that. He had to go back into the lion’s den, get those papers, and see what the hell he really had. Only then could he plot a way to use them to put his stepfather out of business. But even if he had the smoking gun of evidence against that bastard, it was going to take more than a few papers to bring down Antonio Losquaro.
“What are you thinking?”
Elliott started. He hadn’t heard Salvatore at all, he’d been so deep in his thoughts. “About my stepfather.”
“No wonder you were clenching your fists,” Salvatore told him. “Come on. Let’s get out of here for a while.” He hugged Elliott from behind.
“Thanks.” Elliott wasn’t going to argue as he tried to think of his next move.
“Let’s go.” Salvatore gave him a little squeeze and then checked the locks, and they went out to the garage. Though Salvatore had cautiously made sure the entire house was well locked, Elliott was aware that if his stepfather’s men wanted to get inside, a few locks were not going to stop them. But still, it showed Salvatore’s care, and Elliott appreciated that.
Once they were in the car, Salvatore started the engine and raised the garage door, backed out, and then closed up the garage before heading down Front Street, taking 83 south to the turnpike, getting on at 43. After passing through the tollbooth, Salvatore put down the convertible top, and they entered the freeway, wind whipping their hair as they raced east.
God, this was exhilarating.
“There are some sunglasses in the glove compartment.”
Elliott found a pair and put them on as Salvatore slid his on his face. Elliott sat back, letting the air rush past, clearing out the cobwebs that seemed to have plagued him for weeks now. Salvatore reached across the console and took his hand, squeezing his fingers as he drove.
“What is your mom like?”
Salvatore smiled. “She’s a force of nature. In her kitchen she is the absolute ruler. She has the answers and knows what to do, and you don’t cross her. There are times when she likes to think that stretches into the rest of the world.”
“Like her son?” Elliott snickered.
“Yeah. Mom likes to be in charge. But she’s also the first one to praise when things go right, and she rewards initiative and passion.”
“She sounds like quite a mom,” Elliott said.
“Oh yeah. After Dad died, she picked herself up and figured out how she was going to support the two of us. Mom has more guts than anyone I have ever met.” Salvatore squeezed Elliott’s fingers. “She’s the reason I am the person I am today.”
Elliott nodded. “You like your mom.”
“Of course I do. Don’t you?” Salvatore asked.
“I love my mom, but that’s not the same thing. She married the dickhead Antonio because he had money. Yes, she said that she loved him, blah, blah, blah, but I think it’s pretty clear that she really loved his money and let that blind her to everything else.” Elliott sighed. “Like I said, I love my mom, but if she wasn’t my mom, I don’t think that she and I would be friends. That probably sounds dumb, but it’s true. She isn’t the kind of person I’d want to be like or would want in my life.” Elliott hoped what he was saying made sense. “Anyway, it sounds like you would like the kind of person your mom is.” He hoped he didn’t come across like some weirdo or something.
“I get what you’re saying, and yeah… if my mom was someone I met, I think I’d like her. She’s pretty cool and she’s feisty. I like that she’s willing to take charge, make decisions, and then take responsibility for them. She doesn’t back down, and she doesn’t hide behind someone else.” Salvatore seemed proud of her.
They crossed the long bridge over the Susquehanna River and passed the turnoff for the airport. The weather was perfect, sunny and not too warm, an amazing day for a ride in a convertible. Elliott sat back and watched the scenery as it passed outside. There wasn’t a great deal other than trees and such, but he took deep breaths and tried not to think too much about the mess with his family.
“Which part of Philadelphia does your mom live in?”
“She’s just south and west of downtown, off Rittenhouse Square. She bought the building years ago when no one was moving into the city. I remember her and I working on the house every weekend to fix the walls and repaint. She ripped out the kitchen and then learned how to hang cabinets herself because she couldn’t afford to have someone else do it. Man, we must have worked for hours and hours to get them just the way she wanted them. A friend of hers was a plumber, so he helped, and a friend of my dad’s did electrical work. She was fussy, but more than willing to put in the work to get what she wanted. Now the house is worth a small fortune and she could sell it and retire if she wanted, but she loves her restaurant and her house. Though she’s been talking about making a move to someplace warmer. Don’t know if it will ever happen.”
“What else does she do?”
“Just about anything she wants. Mom never lets anything slow her down. She told me a few months ago that she had started dating someone. I haven’t met him, and I don’t know if she’s still seeing him or not. Mom is a bit much for a lot of men her age, and they don’t stay around for very long. At least they haven’t so far.”
Elliott chuckled. “Yeah, but does that have anything to do with you?”
“Me?”
“Yeah. I get the idea that not just any guy is going to be good enough for your mom.” He put his hand over his mouth. “I can see you intimidating them into running for the door. I mean, come on… one look at you is enough to scare most people, and I suppose you coming in all puffed up was enough to scare away most of the guys who might have been interested in her.”
Salvatore scoffed. “I have never done that.”
Elliott turned to look at him.
“Not even once.” Salvatore winked. “Okay, maybe a few times.” He snickered. “Mom is successful, and a few of the guys who wanted to see her were real posers. I never scared away a guy she was actually dating, but a few of them who seemed interested… those I scared the shit out of and they went packing fast.” He threw his head back and laughed.
“I see.” Elliott smiled. “I think if I could have scared the shit out of Antonio Losquaro, I probably would have.”
“I take it you didn’t like him.”
“I didn’t trust him. He came with smiles, and he seemed to enjoy spending his money and time on my mom and by extension me. But I didn’t trust him. Mom asked me a few times what it was that Antonio had done wrong, but I could never tell her what. I just knew he was bad, but I didn’t have the words then to tell her.” Elliott turned away, looking out the side of the car. He wished now that he had somehow found a way to scare him away, that he had done more to keep them apart. But his mom had been so happy, and what was he supposed to do? Make her unhappy? “I should have done more.”
“You couldn’t have.”
“Why? Because I’m sm
all and… not as big as a house?” Elliott demanded.
“No. Because you love your mom and wanted her to be happy. You may not have trusted him, but you couldn’t hurt your mom, and regardless of who the guy turned out to be, you did the right thing because it was her choice to make.”
“And now the fucker is after me.”
Salvatore slowed and pulled off the side of the road, thankfully into the shade. “That was also your choice. You went into his office and copied his papers.” Salvatore’s gaze bored into him. “I’m not saying that was wrong, but own it. You brought this on, and you did a good thing, but now you’re paying the price. So own it.”
“Excuse me…?” Elliott didn’t get it.
“You did this. Your stepfather is after you because of what you did. You may not have understood the ramifications of it when you made the copies, but you did a good thing. Hold your head up high and look this trouble in the eye.” Salvatore clapped Elliott lightly on the leg.
Elliott nodded. Salvatore was right. He had been running on and whining about his evil stepfather, but he needed to take responsibility for his actions and the consequences. Yes, his stepfather was a crook, but he was the one who had put the target on his own back, not anyone else. Elliott nodded slowly as the full realization of what he’d done and the fact that he had to own it weighed on his shoulders. “What do I do?”
“That’s what you need to decide,” Salvatore said.
“That first day I met you, in the club, the guy who caused trouble called me a little guy… and I felt like one. A scared little bunny who wanted to try to hide and see if the danger would pass me by, and then I could go back to the way things had been.” Elliott wiped his eyes from behind the sunglasses with his finger. “But there’s no way to go back, and I don’t want to be a fucking rabbit.”
“That’s fully up to you.”
“Good.” He took a deep breath. “Then when we get back tomorrow, we find a way to take the fight to my stepfather. I need to get those papers, and then we can see what all I’ve got and figure out the best way to use them. He has to be shitting in his boots, so let’s fucking make him really crap himself. There has to be something in there that he can’t hide from or just wash away with a few payoffs.”