Santori Reborn (The Santori Trilogy Book 2)

by Maris Black

  I gave him my what-the-fuck face. And then, to be thorough, I said it, too. “What the fuck, Theo? He doesn’t smoke, and he’s not a pregnant woman. He’s a businessman, and he’s not hard to work for at all. No midnight runs, no green M&M’s, and definitely for God’s sake no pickles and ice cream. It’s basically the same as before, but I don’t have to get up early to come to work. I just wake up, roll out of bed, and get dressed.” Then I couldn’t help adding, “In designer suits.”

  Theo shook his head. “You’re turning into one of those posh types, aren’t you? Before you know it, you’ll be sitting around in a smoking jacket and eating bonbons on the clock.”

  I wanted to argue, but Theo was dangerously close to right. From the outside looking in, I looked suspiciously like a high-dollar prostitute. Gio didn’t treat me like one, and I didn’t feel like one, but the circumstantial evidence was piling up to the point that I was pretty sure a jury would convict.

  “So have you talked to Mr. Rivera about hiring me?” he asked.

  “Oh.” I froze, realizing I had forgotten my promise. “I haven’t gotten around to it yet. I figured I ought to wait until I was more… you know, settled in my own job.”

  “Looks to me like you’re pretty settled,” he pointed out. I couldn’t argue.

  “I’ll ask him soon. Probably tomorrow.”

  “Thanks, man. I sure could use a job.” He smiled and rubbed his stomach. “I could use some food, too. I saw you had some snacks laid out on the table over there. Are those for us?”

  “Yeah, we got a caterer.” I stood and motioned for Theo to follow me to the kitchen. The island and breakfast table were covered in finger foods, but that was only the beginning. The table in the formal dining room beyond held heavier dishes like enchiladas, fried chicken, and a couple of mystery casseroles. My heart melted when I saw a pan of chili cheese dogs stuck right in the middle of everything.

  For me.

  Theo grabbed a plate and loaded it down with two chicken legs, three enchiladas, and a chili dog. I got two chili dogs and added a handful of potato chips when we passed by the breakfast table on our way back to the great room. Then I doubled back and pulled a couple of beers out of the fridge, holding them between the fingers of one hand while balancing my plate precariously in the other. Just as we approached the living area, Theo slammed on brakes in front of me.

  “What the hell, Theo?” I took a step back, cringing when I noticed a little beer had sloshed out onto the floor.

  “Somebody took our seats,” he said, gesturing toward the sofa where Teddy and Z had made themselves comfortable. They were watching the enormous big screen TV, which was normally hidden behind the doors of a wall-sized shelving unit.

  Gio was chatting with two guys I’d never seen before—a smallish black man of about thirty, and an older man with pale, weathered skin and a wave of wispy white hair swept back from his forehead. Carlos hung back near the door, nursing a beer. The driver looked out of place, especially because I was used to seeing him dressed for work in a suit instead of a t-shirt and jeans. He smiled when he saw me, and I waved awkwardly with the beers I was holding.

  “We have bean bags,” I told Theo.

  He shook his head. “I ain’t sitting on no beanbag while I try to eat, boy. Let’s go to your room. Some privacy would be nice, anyway. I’m feeling weird with all these old dudes.”

  “Shhh…” I hissed. “That’s rude. Besides, Gio is not old.” I hoped my comment didn’t sound like I wanted to take Theo’s head off, even though I did.

  Theo raised an eyebrow at me. “Dude might look like a movie star, but he’s still old. He must be in his late thirties.”

  “Thirty-seven isn’t old,” I muttered under my breath, wondering if Theo would catch on if I protested too much. “I’ll check back with you when you’re in your thirties and see how old you think it is then.”

  “Whatever,” Theo said with the infuriating apathy of an eighteen-year-old who thought he was immortal and did not have a thirty-seven-year-old boyfriend. “Where’s your room? I’m tired of standing here holding this plate.”

  I hesitated, because it suddenly occurred to me that I didn’t have my own room, and taking him to Gio’s room was not an option.

  “Dude,” Theo pleaded.

  Resigning myself to what was happening, I sighed and spun around, skirting the kitchen and heading down the hallway that ran along the back wall of windows. We passed the darkened office, and I heard Theo laugh quietly behind me.

  “It’s dark back here,” he said. “Kinda spooky.”

  “Can you open this?” I asked, indicating the closed door of the guest room. “And get the light, too. My hands are full.”

  Theo reached around me with his free hand and opened the door to the bedroom that should have been mine but wasn’t. Then he followed me into the room, which was pitch black except for the glow from the city outside. He slid his hand along the wall for a few tense seconds before growling, “Dude, where’s the damn light switch?”

  “Just feel around for it,” I said irritably. The truth was I had no more idea where the light switch was than he did. I’d only wandered into the room a couple of times, and always during the day. I assumed it was in the usual spot inside the door on the right side, but I couldn’t chance a wrong guess.

  It took Theo another few seconds to find the switch, and just when I had started thinking maybe there wasn’t one at all, light flooded the room.

  “Well, this is fancy,” Theo said, his eyes appraising the heavy wood furnishings: a four-poster bed, mirrored dresser, armoire, and bedside table. Two gold wingback chairs sat near the window, a small reading table situated between them. The decor was as gorgeous as everything else in the apartment, but it was too pristine. A place where life never happened. “Hey, you even made your bed for a change,” Theo said with a laugh.

  I shrugged, already feeling like coming here was a really bad idea. “Gio has a maid come in a few times a week to tidy up.”

  “You’ve got a maid?” Theo gaped. “Couple months ago you were sleeping on a futon. Now look at you.”

  I shuddered at the thought of the rock-hard futon. Sleeping in Gio’s bed was like floating in a silk cocoon, and I made a promise to myself that no matter what happened I would never go back to the uncomfortable slab in my dad’s apartment. Even an army cot in the middle of a crack house was preferable.

  “That futon sucked,” I said, understating the obvious as I lowered myself onto the bed and settled my plate of chili dogs onto my lap. Then I offered Theo the spot nearest the headboard so he could set his plate on the bedside table.

  “You got a TV in here?” he asked around a mouthful of chicken.

  I took a swig of my beer and full-on panicked. Did I have a TV in here? The armoire at the foot of the bed was the most likely place to find one, but I was afraid to check it in front of Theo and find it empty. “Ummm… let’s not watch TV,” I said. “I haven’t talked to you in a while, and I’ve missed you. What have you been up to?”

  “Same old same-old,” he said with a shrug. “Hanging out down at the pool hall. It’s not the same without you, man. Your boss needs to ease up and give you a little time off so we can kick it. You must at least have weekends off or something.”

  “I want to hang with you some, but—”

  “But you’re too good for the pool hall now,” Theo filled in.

  “No, I’m not,” I said, appalled at the suggestion.

  What he said was sort of true, but it wasn’t that simple. The way he’d said it made me sound like a stuck-up asshole. I didn’t think I was better than him or anyone else who chose to spend their time shooting the shit down at the pool hall, but now I’d had a taste of something better—life with Gio.

  The pool hall had been an escape from the dirty little apartment. From the depression of poverty. From the fists and the belt. Now that I felt secure and fulfilled and oh-my-god happy, I didn’t need the distractions that had helped me navigat
e the dark waters of my teenage years. And now that I had made it out, I had no desire to dip even a single toe into the murky bog that was my old life.

  “Yeah,” Theo drawled, his smile hesitant and almost shy. “You’re definitely too good for all of that now. It’s cool, though. I don’t blame you. If I had a sweet setup like this, I wouldn’t want to go sit in a smoke-filled dungeon with a bunch of losers, either.”

  I laughed. “You know, you’re a lot of the reason that dungeon is smoke-filled.”

  He rolled his eyes and finished off his first chicken leg.

  We ate in silence for a few minutes, neither of us quite knowing what to say. Life as we’d known it had morphed into something neither one of us quite recognized, and even with our knees touching on the bed, there was a distance already growing between us. Would this be the last time he and I would be together? Would we run into each other years down the road, virtual strangers with only a few vague memories of what we’d once been to each other?

  Guilt rather than sadness clawed at my insides. Theo had been my lifeline over the past four years, and without him I would surely have drowned in a sea of loneliness and depression. But now that I was safe on shore, I was prepared to cut him loose and watch him drift away. I realized this with stunning clarity, with the same certainty that I would need another breath after this one was done, and yet I had no intention of trying to change it.

  As I sat nibbling idly at my food and contemplating the depth of my own shittiness, Theo suddenly shoved his plate onto the bedside table and jumped up off the bed. Without a word, he stalked purposefully over to the closet and flung open the door to reveal… nothing. Inside was darkness and space. The scent of wood and paint and carpet. Of disuse.

  Holy fuck. He’d figured it out.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I raged, vaguely panicked to hear notes of my father’s voice in my own. “Get out of there, you nosy bastard.”

  But my anger wasn’t directed at Theo. I was mad at myself. Why had I thought it was a good idea to bring him into this room? It was no more than a cardboard movie set. A shallow illusion that only barely masked the truth.

  Theo turned back toward me, wearing an expression I’d never seen on him before. Judgment.

  “I knew it,” he said. “I fucking knew it.” His tone wasn’t triumphant, as in aha! I knew it, but disappointed, as in I didn’t want to believe it, but deep down I knew it.

  I stared down at my plate, feeling stripped bare and suddenly all too aware of what I had been doing. Of how this must look. And like Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden, after they’d eaten of the fruit and discovered their nakedness, I was ashamed. But a fig leaf wasn’t going to fix my problem.

  Theo sat back down on the bed, gingerly this time as if something might break, and twisted his hands into his lap. “What are you doing, Pete? I—” His voice was so quiet. “I thought you had a job. I was so proud for you. I thought you were his assistant.”

  “I am,” I squeaked. “I mean, I was. I never lied to you, Theo. You have to believe me. It just… became something more.”

  “Something more,” Theo repeated. “Like what exactly?”

  “It’s—” I closed my eyes, wondering if speaking it aloud would unravel it all. Make it nothing, and silly, and so utterly ridiculous as to be laughable. Because who was I to lay claim to a man like Giorgio Rivera?

  Theo knew me better than anyone. He knew where I’d come from and how pathetic I was. If I spoke the word that was on my tongue, he would laugh at me, and then I would know how foolish I’d been to ever believe in…

  “Love,” I whispered.

  Theo chewed on the word for a while. Then he turned more fully toward me and stared at the side of my face. “Is he at least paying you well? You’re not giving it away for free, I hope. A man like that can afford whatever he wants, and you shouldn’t let him take advantage of you because you’re desperate to get away from your dad.”

  Theo couldn’t have struck me harder with a two-by-four than with the harsh words he’d chosen, because he’d indirectly called me a whore, an idiot, a victim, and unworthy of Gio’s love. There may have even been a few more insults hidden in there, but I was too devastated to ferret them out just now.

  Could I protest, or would taking up for myself just be proving his point that I was naive? And what if he was right?

  He put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “We’ll figure this out together.”

  “Figure what out?” Gio asked from the doorway, relaxed and upbeat as if he’d just come to see about me and probably try to talk me into coming to watch the main event. But when I looked up at him and he caught a glimpse my face, his own expression turned frighteningly cold. He clicked the door closed, locked it, and pinned Theo in his ice-blue glare. “What on earth have you done to him?”

  Theo stuttered, producing only sounds of confusion.

  Gio sat down beside me, depressing the mattress with the familiar weight of his body, and wrapped a strong arm around my shoulders. “Are you okay? What’s going on here? Talk to me.”

  “He found out,” I said, followed by an embarrassing whimper. “I shouldn’t have brought him back here. It was too obvious that no one sleeps in this room, and he figured it out. I’m sorry, Gio.”

  He tightened his grip on my shoulders and pressed his forehead to my temple. “It doesn’t matter. He’s your friend, right? Friends don’t sell each other out.” He lifted his head to look at Theo. “Isn’t that right? Friends don’t hurt each other.” His tone communicated an unmistakable warning.

  Theo swallowed audibly before nodding.

  “He was only trying to protect me,” I said, coming to his rescue even though he may not have deserved it.

  “I was.” Theo pulled himself up straighter and surprised me by what he said next—with how fearless he was. “I’m not really digging the whole power dynamic here, Mr. Rivera. You know Pete doesn’t have a lot of experience. It would be easy for you to take advantage of the situation.”

  Instead of getting defensive or angry, Gio nodded. “Your concerns have been noted, but I have a few of my own. The stricken look on Peter’s face when I came into the room is something I don’t ever want to see again as long as I live. I’ve worked very hard to make sure he feels safe, and tonight you’ve made him doubt his security with me. Do it again, and there will be hell to pay. Do I make myself clear?”

  I shuddered. When Gio spoke to me, he was always so kind, his words soothing. But the fine-edged razor tone he used on other people—the one that said he was not pleased—chilled me to my soul. How could that Gio and my Gio exist together in the same body?

  “Yes, sir,” Theo said. “I didn’t mean to cause trouble. It just seemed odd, that’s all.”

  “I love him.” Gio stroked my hair and pulled me against his chest. “He’s mine, and I’m going to take care of him. Whether you or anyone else find that odd is of no importance to me.”

  It felt a little strange being talked about and deliberated over like I was an object, but at the same time, it gave me a sense of security and heart-swelling pleasure. Gio had come for me, and he’d done what I needed. He’d taken the confusion and the guilt and the question of whether what we were doing was right or wrong completely out of my hands. It didn’t matter if I was sinful or stupid or naive as hell. Gio was more than capable of making decisions for both of us, and I was relieved to let him.

  “Look, I’m gonna go,” Theo said. His shoulders were slumped, face tight. He ran a hand through his blond hair and stared at the closed door, as if he found it difficult to look at us. I supposed it was a little weird seeing me all curled up against Gio’s chest when he’d never seen me so much as touch another person.

  “No need to rush off,” Gio said. “I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable. I’m just protective of Peter, and if I think someone is confusing or hurting him, I’m going to react.”

  Theo finally looked our way. “Same here. But the truth is,
I really don’t belong here with all these people. Pete is my only friend here, and he’s with you, so I feel kinda like a third wheel. I’d just be more comfortable down at the pool hall. Pete and I can hang out another day. Right, Pete?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, for sure.” The truth was, I wanted him to go. I wasn’t mad or anything, but it did feel a little weird with him being here after everything that had happened. After all that was said. “I’ll give you a call sometime, okay?”

  Theo headed for the door but turned back to us before he walked out. “Don’t forget to ask about that thing,” he said to me.

  That took me off guard. Even after everything he’d learned, he still wanted a job with Gio. “Sure. I’ll definitely do that.”

  Theo made his uncomfortable escape, and Gio pulled away from me and tipped my chin up, forcing me to look at him. “What thing?” I should have known he wouldn’t let that slip under his radar. I wasn’t really ready to ask, but it seemed I had little choice now without making things even more awkward.

  “Theo wanted to know if you have any place in the business for him. He really needs a good job, and I told him you might consider it.”

  Theo’s brow crashed down in confusion. “Do you want me to hire him, or are you just being polite?”

  I thought about it. After sticking by me over the years, he deserved some payback. It would also keep him close without me having to go hang out at the pool hall again. I was pretty sure Gio wouldn’t go for that, anyway.

  “I want you to give him a job. He’s my only friend, and I don’t want to lose him. He’s dependable, and he’s taken care of me over the years when my father—” I couldn’t finish my sentence, but I was pretty sure Gio knew where I was going with it.