by Sophia Reed
We fought for dominance, rolling around the chez couch we’d landed on. First, I was over him, dragging his shirt over his head and throwing it aside. Then, he was over me, using careful teeth to bite open my front-clasping bra. I was on him, unbuttoning his pants and discovering the hard length that awaited me there. Then, he was on me, linking his fingers into the edges of my underwear and pulling them free.
When his tongue returned to the intimate place that it had been once before, I let out a breathy gasp. My back arched against my will as pleasure skittered all over me, painting me in chills. My fingers crawled into his soft curls and took hold. It wasn’t just a reaction to the waves of electricity. It was a hope that I could hang on to him. If my hands were always on him, he couldn’t slip away from me again.
When I demanded a turn, Gabriel didn’t deny me. We shifted until it was him on his back, and my head nestled between his legs. It was a taste of him that I didn’t get during our first time, and one I grew evermore addicted to with each starved suck. I got lost in the feeling of Gabriel, the soft grunts he made, and his gentle thrusts. I could have stayed that way for much longer than was healthy.
I’d have risked it if he would have let me, but he clawed at my shoulder, begging me to climb over him, and I did without complaint. He pushed into me, and it forced away any lingering thoughts that I would have to say goodbye again. I moved slowly, up and down, in and out, taking more and more until I was full and begging. Heat and sweat clasped around us, but we were undeterred. We were a torrent, swiping up everything in our path, and we were just beginning.
I threw my head back when the familiar swirl of release started at my toes and started to climb its way upward. Gabriel braced a hand on my chest as I rode my way through, only a string of white noise available to my ear while the heat in my groin pushed towards burning me. It was a dangerous burn, one I chased.
Gabriel lifted me, keeping us attached. I locked onto his lips and slicked my tongue into his mouth. He greeted me happily with his own, and we moved slowly as far as we could get before the passion took us again. He braced me against the door to the bedroom and held me aloft while he took me, this time at a rapid, more forceful pace. I had no qualms with the way my hips screamed out. They may hurt in the morning, but they’d ache with reminders of Gabriel, the best kind of pain.
When Gabriel hissed, “Fuck,” I linked my legs behind his back. I wanted everything he had to give me. I didn’t care what it was. I didn’t care about the consequences.
I wasn’t awarded for my efforts. Gabriel slowed his pace back to a meticulous, drawn-out grind. He cradled me against him again and carried me over to the bed, his original destination. I was guided down to my back, and against what I wanted, Gabriel released himself from me. I opened my mouth to protest but was met with Gabriel’s mouth against mine. He pulled away from me, and his dark eyes looked into mine with desperation.
“Turn over,” he asked.
I did exactly as I was told. I braced myself on my hands and knees while Gabriel took me again in a single, long thrust of his full self. I let out a scream that was harmonized with a moan from Gabriel. We collided against each other, two forces trying to mingle at an even deeper level than was humanly possible. It was there between us, the guttural attempts to push into each other until we were a single entity. We might never achieve the melding we were searching for, but our voices climbed to an even higher volume as the synchronized pleasure pounding through us dragged us both in the same direction and right over the edge of a jagged cliff. The wind whipping in our face met with the collision against the ground below was the feeling we were looking for, and even long after our bodies ran out of the ability to move, we continued to try, pushing against each other until we were expended, with nothing left.
When I next knew where I was, I was nestled in a tub of warm water. Gabriel’s body was wrapped around my own with his fingers walking their way back and forth over my arms. I had to have played some role in getting there, but the memories escaped me.
“Welcome back,” he hummed at me, placing a warm kiss against my neck. My head lulled back against his shoulder, bearing my neck even further. He took a gentle nibble, but both of our bodies had been pushed to their maximums. His ministrations were an extension of earlier passion still bubbling over. “You were with me until I started running the water.”
“Was I?” I asked drowsily. “I don’t even remember getting out of bed.”
Gabriel laughed. “That would probably be why most of your words were not real words.”
I laughed with him. “Probably.”
“I owe you an apology,” I said, and it was unexpected even from myself.
Gabriel gruffed behind me. “No, you don’t. If anything, I owe you one.”
“I consulted Google,” I continued. “I saw that you were telling the truth. The closest you got to any of the crimes your family committed was being present. Even that sounded shaky.”
“I was there for one. Not that I was super useful.” I could hear the regret in his voice.
“You said you would explain,” I reminded him. “If I’m going to do this. I need to know.”
Gabriel shifted enough to look into my eyes. “Are you going to do this?”
“I don’t know yet,” I replied. “I don’t want to think about being apart from you, but you also said you would do anything for your family. Even that stuff.” I supposed I couldn’t blame him. If it came to my parents or Mira, how sharp were the edges of my resolve? “I guess I’m hoping you can give me a reason to think it would be okay to stay.”
Gabriel’s arms wrapped around me and clung me tighter to him as his head fell back out of sight. “I guess you could say I was born into it. The organization has been in my family for generations, but my dad was the one who spearheaded it into what it is today. He was murdered. It feels like yesterday, but it was actually a few years ago. A family we were aligned with found out he was skimming money.” His body tensed up the more he talked about it. “When he was gone, Luca took over, but we each played our part. This past couple of years, my brother Marco and Alessandro both fell in love, had kids, and left.”
“I didn’t think you could leave?” I asked, before realizing I sounded like someone who based their belief off of movie stereotypes. “Or is that just a godfather thing?”
Gabriel chuckled, and I felt a little of his stress ease away. “No. My dad always used to say, once you’re in, you don’t get out. I always thought it was a commitment thing. Like proving you’re part of this family means you stick around regardless, but I realize now that’s not what it is at all. It’s like an invisible rope, and it’s tied in a thousand different knots. The only way out would be to undo all the knots, but every time you untie one, you tangle up three more. This life, it’s a poison, and there’s no antidote.”
Hearing Gabriel describe it that way scared me, but it also made me feel sorry for him. If he knew that it was eating him up and didn’t get away from it, I had to believe it was because he couldn’t, not because he didn’t want to.
“They managed to exploit some loopholes, that’s the best way it can be described, but…” Gabriel hesitated, and I felt his whole body turn to stone around me. “The poison.”
He didn’t need to explain, I understood. They thought they were out but were they really?
“It’s different for them both. For Marco, it’s guilt, like he feels bad that he’s off living a happy life while the rest of us are stuck, and for Sandro…”
Gabriel’s voice trailed off again, and that time he didn’t continue. That was the first time I’d heard his brothers’ names fom him. Luca and Marco left his lips a little easier. I wondered if he was just closest to his older two brothers or if something else was there. I wanted to ask, but I didn’t want to pry.
“You’re closest to Luca and Marco?” Gabriel snickered and then started laughing. I had no idea what to make of the reaction. “What?”
“Sorry,” Gabriel managed t
hrough breaths. “I guess that is kind of how it sounds. No. Sandro was the only one who really looked out for me. The other two tortured me.”
“Why?” I asked.
“My brothers and I don’t have the same mom. Not long after Sandro was born, my dad cheated on their mom with mine, and I was born. My dad took me in, told my brothers that Varasso blood was in me the same way it was in them, and they should love me just like they do each other. Luca and Marco resented me, though, even more after their mom died.”
The tension in Gabriel’s body funneled into tremors. His arms shook despite his obviously begging them not to. “Sandro took care of me. I wouldn’t have survived this long if he hadn’t. I didn’t repay him very well.”
I could feel the darkness in Gabriel’s aura at the subject, and knew I couldn’t pry there. That was information that would have to be offered willingly. Gabriel’s head nestled against the side of my face.
“Sorry. I know it’s all a bit dark. Marco and my sister-in-law teamed up to make me come out with you. I wasn’t going to. It’s not fair to subject you to all of this, but I just can’t quit you. I don’t want to.”
I felt the same. This man, living in this evil, blood-thirsty world, was really just a tender spirit. He loved his brothers and wanted what was best for them. I could see him desperately trying to hold the supports up himself, and I wanted to be that person holding him up. The one he could turn to when he felt like it was all backed against him.
I didn’t know if I could handle being involved with someone who was in such a perilous world, but there was no choice for me but to try. Life deals us certain hands, and we can’t exchange the cards. If Gabriel was the reward, I was about willing to take on any risk.
15
Gabriel
Stacy was making her sixth attempt to pull herself away from me in the lobby of the hotel, and we had officially attracted attention. Everything was so much more difficult when it meant leaving Stacy’s side. It had taken three tries and two rounds of sex to get us out of bed, and that was only because we’d worked ourselves famished. Packing our bags was hard because every two minutes, we were lost in some conversation, both loosely holding onto whatever we were trying to fold. Even getting down to the lobby was a struggle with our incessant need to be touching as much as was humanly possible as we moved. We’d even been angrily cussed out by a mom who felt we were too inappropriate in public. We thanked her for her opinion by making out the entire elevator ride down.
“I have to get to the studio,” Stacy whined even though she was hanging on to me as much as I was onto her.
“I know. I have to get home.” I didn’t release her, though, and a second later, her lips were on mine again. We were that gross couple, but I didn’t care.
It took an additional twenty minutes, but we did eventually manage to go our separate ways, only after a promise to see each other as soon as possible. We nearly doubled back when I gave her the orchid I’d bought her and sweetly explained that it was “literally the only fucking flower left,” and she was endeared and considered dragging me back upstairs. We both had business to get to, though, so she left, and I checked out of the hotel, complete with a sizable tip, and headed back to our family estate.
I was surprised to see that I hadn’t gotten a single call from Luca or Molly while I was gone, and I hoped that it didn’t mean that Molly had to throw herself on more than one sword protecting me from Luca’s wrath while I was off enjoying a romantic night with Stacy. I’d have to come up with something really good to give her in thanks, on top of still trying to figure out how to get her family some well-deserved time off.
I pulled into the cul-de-sac parking lot that we used to keep all of our vehicles organized in a way that made the job of taking them out at different times easier, and my heart sank. There was a dark green land rover parked in the middle. It was Alessandro’s best friend and our family attorney’s car. Ricky Morietti. He’d moved to California with Alessandro last year when Alessandro married Ricky’s sister Willow.
It wasn’t that Ricky was that attached at the hip to Alessandro or Willow, but Ricky may have been the only person besides myself who’d see first-hand the moment Alessandro slipped. He was forced in the middle when he had to pick Willow over Alessandro, and he’d already left to go be at Willow’s side when Alessandro finally lost it in Luca’s office, but he’d seen the change in his best friend when we saved him from the Binachi’s trap in San Francisco. He claimed that he didn’t want to miss an opportunity to get to know his niece when he justified moving with them to Cali, but in truth, he was worried about what was happening to Alessandro and how that might affect his sister.
I walked in, nerves rattling. Ricky being back in Philly wasn’t a good sign. I walked through the heavy wood and metal front doors, and what spanned out before me was worse yet. Ricky was there, standing in the foyer, in suit pants, thin dark blue suspenders, and a pale blue button-up, but next to him, in a full suit and looking like he was ready for a day of work, was Alessandro.
“S-Sandro,” I huffed.
Alessandro turned and flung his arms out on either side of him. It was very artificial, like he was a car salesman, and I was his favorite customer. “Gabe!”
He walked up to me and wrapped his arms around me, and I locked eyes with Ricky, and the expression I got wasn’t good. Ricky looked nervous, and the tips of his brown hair were sweat-matted against his forehead. Alessandro pulled away but kept his hands on my shoulders.
“How’ve you been, man?” He leaned in towards me. “Heard you were out with a girl. Congrats.”
I hated feeling like I needed to protect Stacy from the smarmy version of my brother in front of me. “Thanks.” I didn’t share any details, and I was hopeful that Marco hadn’t either. “What are you doing here?”
“Are you dumb?” Alessandro hissed, and where it might have been a joke a year or two ago, it sounded serious and mean. “I heard about the way you fucked up with Anthony Carducci, so I came here to clean up your mess.”
“Sandro,” Ricky growled in warning. Lately, it felt like I needed saving from Alessandro more than he was doing the saving, and I didn’t like it.
Alessandro waved a hand, not even sparing a glance at his brother-in-law. “Relax, Gabe knows I’m kidding. Just wanted to pretend I was the boss for a second.”
The shrill of foreboding that rocketed down my spine and back up again wasn’t a feeling I reveled in. It threatened to buckle my knees. He smiled at me, but it was empty and malevolent, and meant, in no uncertain terms, that Alessandro’s words were anything but a joke. All my life, I loved my dad, but now I was seeing what my older brothers felt so much disdain over. The blatant lack of care for others, the cruel howl of frightening sentiments through the barrel of a humored musing. I wished there was a shower that could wash it off of Alessandro and leave him his old, fresh self again, but I feared no such remedy existed.
I decided no additional interaction with Alessandro was probably best. I was still riding a high from my night with Stacy, and I didn’t want to waste it on whatever alien had replaced my formerly loving brother. I tossed Alessandro a weak smile and then walked around him and up the foyer stairs, headed for the hallway where all of the brothers’ bedrooms had been located when we were growing up.
My room was the only one left in this area. Luca and Molly had taken up the wing my father and his wife used to inhabit, and both Alessandro and Marco had moved out. Oddly enough, almost as if they all knew, none of them had formally cleaned out and evacuated their rooms; for all intents and purposes, they just stopped sleeping in them. As if they all knew that, one day, they’d be in their rooms again.
I walked into my room and jumped at the sound of my door closing behind me. I turned around, and Ricky was standing there, leaning against it.
“Fuck,” I barked. “Why don’t you make any noise when you move?”
“When you’re the Varasso’s family lawyer, you master the art of stealth,” Ricky
replied simply. “We gotta talk.”
It didn’t make me feel any more comfortable than the conversation I’d just had with Alessandro had. Ricky and I were acquaintances, at best. The last couple of years before Alessandro had moved out, he started dragging me along with him more when Alessandro, Marco, and Ricky hung out, but even then, I was so dwarfed by their presences that I usually kept quiet.
My brothers were men who lived with me all my life, but Ricky was a different enigma altogether. He’d grown up with the Varassos, and both he and Willow’s dad had given up their freedom to protect my dad. The Varassos continued to look out for Willow, Ricky, and their mom as repentance for what their father did, but Willow stayed away from our family when it didn’t directly involve her relationship with Alessandro, and Ricky was just this kid who was sort of always there. He knew so much about my family and played this huge role in our lives, but I barely knew him. That was enough to freak me out.
I sat down in one of the small, gray armchairs that were against one side of my bedroom wall, and Ricky walked over and glided down into the other. He crossed one leg over the other and clocked me in silence for a moment. I couldn’t quite tell what he was up to, so I just sat with my mouth closed until he’d gauged whatever he needed to.
“It’s bad,” he started suddenly. “Sandro.”
The muted deference in his voice was alarming. He wasn’t trying to speak ill of his friend but knew the situation warranted discussion.
“I knew that something cracked when Willow left him before, but I thought it went away when they were back together. I think he’s just been hiding it, and now he can’t contain it enough, and it’s seeping out.” He sighed. “He got arrested a couple weeks back. I didn’t tell Luca or Marco because he asked me not to. He didn’t mention you, maybe because he trusts you more, or maybe because he didn’t think I’d consider you. I guess you’re my loophole.”