Quincy was back in his normal clothes, and he greeted them with a tight smile that was nothing like the soft kind of face he’d shown Seth earlier. This, at least, was a good sign.
“He’s stable,” was the first thing he said, and when the room filled with relieved sighs, it was almost as if there was an echo around Seth.
Quincy sat in one of the vacant chairs and licked his lips, clearly uncomfortable despite the decent initial news.
“His eye. You didn’t save it?” Domenico said before Seth could. His voice was flat, resigned, and Seth couldn’t bear to listen to it.
Quincy shook his head. “Not a chance. The bone cracked in one place, and there’s signs of a concussion, but his brain seems fine otherwise. The eye, however, won’t be functional. It couldn’t have been saved even in the best hospital in the world. I’m sorry.”
Seth rubbed his temple and stroked Dom’s shoulder. “Can we go see him?” His heart sank by the second when he thought about the permanent damage, but at least Mark was alive and would pull through. That was what mattered.
“You can sit by the bed and wait until he wakes up,” Quincy said softly.
Seth followed Domenico’s lead and stood, but when Dom looked back at him, something inside Seth shrank.
“Stay with him, all right? I’ll leave someone guarding the door.”
Seth swallowed. "Don’t you need the man power? I could go with you. Help with the search.”
Miguel joined them, rifle tucked tightly to his chest. “I’ll go.”
Domenico licked his lips and briefly squeezed Seth’s hand, but despite the warm touch, the gesture felt more like a shove. “Mark’s gonna need you when he wakes up. Don’t leave the room. We don’t know where that fucker’s gone.”
Seth glanced at his feet and nodded. What right did he have to now change his mind about his position, if it had been him in the first place who asked for this? Regardless of the fury simmering inside him, the need to crush Diego’s skull the way he had Mark’s, Seth would stay and do as told.
Maybe he could embrace this reality and forget he had ever been something else?
Chapter 15 - Domenico
Diego had disappeared into thin air.
Or rather, he’d disappeared into the thick, damp, fragrant air of the jungle.
Domenico hoped he’d become feed for the jaguars—preferably that one jaguar that had once attempted to chew on Domenico’s face in the old cemetery—but with Dom’s recent luck, that wasn’t very likely to happen.
At least he’d received positive news from Santo. The new shipment was in preparation, and this time Domenico could personally escort it along the goddamn river, taking out every single Lungs member himself if he had to. If they wanted to go back to nature, they might as well turn into caiman and piranha feed.
“Yes, we’re making our own ricotta,” Seth cooed at Angelica from the kitchen where she sat on the kitchen counter, clapping her hands. “But this time, it’s up to you.” He put three different pots full of herbs and pointed to each one. “Will we add thyme, basil, or rosemary?”
She looked at him, then the pots, rubbing her little hand against her mouth. Her curly dark locks were tied into twin buns at the top of her head and she wore a violet dress featuring a cartoon character Domenico was far more familiar with than he wished to be. In the end, Angelica picked the basil and presented the pot to Seth like a peace offering.
“Nice.”
Seth kissed her head. “What an excellent choice, sweetie. Such a refined palate at such a young age.” They both laughed as Seth added the chosen herb into the cheese.
Domenico sighed, unable to tune into the cheerful mood when there was an enemy on the loose. He hadn’t yet informed anyone on Moreno’s side of Diego’s transgressions, because he didn’t want the big boss interfering in Diego’s upcoming death. Because Diego would pay with his life for taking Mark’s eye.
“We pour that into the pot,” Seth instructed Angelica who watched on with complete focus on her tiny face.
“Mark,” she said, pointing to it.
“Yes, for your brother. He will love it on bread when he wakes up. You may serve it to him yourself, how about that?”
Domenico rubbed the rim of his empty coffee mug and glanced toward the single guest bed he and Seth had moved into the living room hours earlier. Mark didn’t have to remain in the hospital, and neither of them wanted him to wallow in his own misery upstairs. Still, with the thick bandage covering most of his head and the discoloration spread beyond the dressing, he looked as if he’d crashed into something much worse than a mentally unstable man with a flashlight.
When Domenico stared back into the kitchen, something felt off about the perfect domestic bliss. On one hand, seeing Seth take care of their daughter melted his heart, yet on the other, something was different about his husband, and Dom couldn’t exactly grasp what it was. The old Seth would have been up in arms about seeking revenge for Mark. He’d be coming up with stupid plans Domenico would have to dismiss and then they’d most likely fight over strategy. So maybe it was for the better that Seth agreed to do as told?
He was there, in the kitchen, cooking, playing with Angelica, talking to his chickens in the morning, as if nothing had happened. As if their son hadn’t had a brush with death less than two days prior. On the surface, nothing changed from what their life had been for the last two years, but this time Seth wasn’t in the dark. He knew every detail of what happened in the jungle, but it seemed to change nothing.
It felt as if there was a stranger in the house. One that had Seth’s face, who smelled like him, but who was an impostor nevertheless. Where was the man who’d carried Domenico through the sewers? The man who’d gone into the den of the human trafficking ring and fought alongside Domenico?
What had happened to that man?
“No, not with the knife,” Seth said to Angelica. “But you can spread it for him with a spoon. Beautiful.” He smiled as he watched her attempts at making sandwiches.
“For daddy,” she said, looking back at Domenico with so much joy his heart stopped for a second.
With all the gloom, bloodshed and murder just around the corner, Angelica was a ray of sunshine. A part of their growing family, which Domenico worked so hard on keeping together and safe. But what did all his efforts matter if his desperation to find the thieves who’d disrespected him had made him blind to danger?
Miguel was right. The jungle was as far from Domenico’s natural habitat as it got, and yet he couldn’t let go of his pride, even though it had recently bitten him in the ass so many times. He might have been an apex predator in the familiar surroundings of the ecosystem he knew best—the city, the town, any place shaped primarily by people. But the past few weeks had brutally proved to him that his skills meant little in a place so alien. Mark’s injury was his fault.
Some days, he missed blending into a crowd of New Yorkers or Londoners, being an anonymous face, stopping for cake and coffee at a fashionable cafe as he stalked his prey. With Seth by his side, they’d made quite the sight. Longing gazes had swept over them, yet no one dared to approach and crack the perfect harmony of two men in love. No matter how satisfying it was to keep Seth safe in their home here, having other people see what a catch Domenico had in his grasp was a very different kind of pleasure, one he could rarely indulge in.
“Cheese, daddy,” Angelica said and smiled at him widely, presenting a messy plate.
Domenico put on a smile for her and swept her into his lap as soon as the meal was safely on the coffee table. “You’re so smart. Not even two and already preparing food for your family?”
Seth walked up to them and put a glass of lemonade next to the plate. “She knows her own mind, too. Tell daddy what you chose to put in the cheese.”
“Basil!” She grinned even wider and hugged Domenico.
She then proceeded to feed him, which ended up with half the ricotta smeared around Domenico’s mouth. He played along, and despite the gl
oomy thoughts, his spirits were lifted by her attention, and the delicious food.
He stilled when Mark shifted under the blanket, his face contorting as if he were in pain. Angelica yelped and slid off Domenico’s lap, crawling along the sofa and toward the bed. “Mark, Mark! I made cheese!”
“Come, sweetie, Mark needs to rest. You’ll talk to him later.” Seth pulled her away and lifted her into his arms as if she weighed nothing.
Domenico pressed his lips together and waved her off on borrowed energy. He slumped forward as soon as Seth disappeared in the corridor leading to the nursery.
“How are you feeling? Do you need some more painkillers?” he asked, moving closer to Mark.
At first the one eye left spoke of confusion, but Mark blinked a few times in the end and nodded, which only ended up with him hissing with pain. “Yes. And water. Was Angelica here? Even my teeth hurt.”
Domenico fetched him everything he asked for and gently lifted Mark’s head off the bed so he could drink. “Yes. Seth just took her back to Giulia.”
Mark groaned. “I don’t want to scare her.” He spoke slowly, and Domenico felt for him. Even talking would hurt him now.
“Oh, hey, Mark. I could make you something soft,” Seth said, walking up to the sofa.
Domenico put Mark back on the fluffy pillows. “Hungry? Something sweet maybe?”
Mark’s gaze settled on Seth. “I don’t wanna eat. I wanna see the damage,” he complained and fiddled with the extensive dressing on his face.
Domenico’s hands forced Mark’s down before he could loosen the bandages. “Stop this. I’ve been there, and I get that you want to know, but right now you’d only make it worse. Leave the skin to heal.”
Mark harrumphed, increasingly sober-looking. “Have you found him?”
Guilt stabbed Domenico’s heart, because he knew nothing he would say could soothe his injured son. “Not yet.”
“Did he take his horse?”
Domenico’s lips quirked. For once, he had good news. “No. And he isn’t going to. I had it taken to the empty barn by the outer fence.”
Mark’s swollen lips pursed. “Good.”
Seth came closer and sat next to Domenico. “You wanna keep it? I know you really liked it.”
Domenico shrugged. “What would Mark do with a horse?”
“I’d ride it.”
“See?” Seth raised his eyebrows.
Domenico shook his head. As if Mark had time for riding lessons. Seth seemed to have lost the grasp of the concept of time since they’d moved here, but Dom didn’t want to argue.
“What did you two actually fight over? I could hear you raise your voice before the actual attack.”
Mark went silent for a while, his one eye moving from Seth to Domenico, as if he couldn’t decide who to focus on. “I broke up with him.”
Seth clenched his fists. “That motherfucker.”
Domenico frowned, leaning forward with red fog clouding his brain. “What the fuck? He just met you!”
“I don’t even remember. I think I pushed him, ‘cause he was talking shit.”
“What kind of shit?” Domenico rose, unable to keep still with the fire burning in his legs.
Mark’s eye wandered behind Dom. “That he was fucking Seth.”
Domenico barked in laughter as he paced all the way to the wall and turned to face the bed and sofa. He couldn’t believe the audacity of Diego’s fantasies. “What? My Seth wouldn’t even look at that dirtbag!”
Seth’s knuckles were white. He avoided Domenico’s gaze for long enough for it to be significant. “He must have misread things.”
All the muscles in Dom’s face went slack. He stared at Seth, force-fed the discomfort in his body language. Tension fermented until it buzzed, creating a pressure inside his skull. “What?”
Seth hid his face in his hands and started rubbing it. “This is why I didn’t want to bring it up,” he mumbled through his fingers, and Domenico’s senses sharpened to absorb every single one of his gestures. He wanted to put a scalpel to Seth’s skin and cut out all the information right-the-fuck-now.
“Bring up what? What is there to bring up?” he asked, raising his voice without really meaning to, but with his shoulders instantly stiffening, that stress needed to be released somewhere.
Seth looked up, and it was either Domenico’s imagination fucking with him, or guilt did seep from every pore on Seth’s face. “He’s made a few moves on me, that’s all.”
A supernova went off in Domenico’s chest, its hot energy blasting against his organs, bones, skin with the kind of power that couldn’t be reined in. Within two steps, Dom was by the mantelpiece and swung his arm along the wall, sending a waterfall of framed photos and trinkets to the floor.
“When was this? Why wouldn’t you tell me?” he yelled so loudly it made his tightened throat ache.
Seth jumped to his feet and rushed to the frames, as if picking them up was what mattered right now. “This is why I didn’t tell you. You blow shit out of proportion. He started hitting on me the night we met, but I didn’t do anything, okay?”
Dom grabbed Seth’s arm and pulled him up so hard the photos landed back on the floor with a loud crack of glass. “What the hell’s wrong with you? You met him once, so when were those other times, huh?”
Seth finally met Domenico’s gaze, but wouldn’t stay put, trying to pull out of his grasp. He was going nowhere. “That’s not true. He was there at the New Year’s Eve party, wasn’t he? And I came over so that you could get rid of him. What was I supposed to do? Cause a scene because he was flirting with me? Let you cause a scene?”
Domenico was itching everywhere, and the bite was so insistent he wished he could pull his skin off and scratch it inside out. “What did he do? Did you let him touch you?”
There it was. That awkward glance to the side. He had.
And yet Seth frowned at Dom. “We shook hands. Is that an offence now too?”
Domenico’s palm collided with Seth’s cheek so hard Dom’s own flesh tingled. “What did he do? What are you hiding from me?”
Seth glared with his lips parted and pushed Dom’s chest without much force. “He came over to talk to me when you left this insult on my face.” He pointed to his bruised jaw, but this time, instead of guilt, all it made Dom feel was fury, and an eagerness to give Seth a black eye on the other side to match. How was he only hearing about this now? This was insanity, and it had been growing under the roof of what was supposed to be his personal paradise.
“He is such a good guy. Did you suck his dick as a thank you?” Domenico roared. His fingers twitched. He longed to put them on Seth’s throat. He wanted to tear off Seth’s skin everywhere where Diego had touched him.
"Is that what you think of me? Are you really asking that question?"
In the last moment before fury could take over, Domenico shoved at Seth and smashed his fist into the large mirror instead. The impact jutted up his arm, but it wasn’t enough, and neither was the bite of broken glass against his knuckles.
“I don’t know, Seth. Should I?”
Seth took short, ragged breaths, watching Domenico’s every move. “No, I didn’t suck his dick! I didn’t even let him in! But I was angry that day, okay? I may have drank too much, and given him some wrong ideas. It was just shit talk.”
Something about that sentence tore at Domenico’s chest, breaking past his breastbone, bending the ribs and chewing its way straight into his rapidly beating heart. “What shit talk? What did you say to him?”
The way Seth’s face started turning beet-red told Domenico half the story he didn’t actually want to hear, yet still craved to know, as if it were some extremely convoluted self-inflicted torture.
“It was nothing. I was bored, upset, I gave him some cake. It escalated, so I shut it down. Stop looking at me like that! I’m only telling you so that you know what his state of mind might be, because he’s a sick fuck, and we need to find him!”
“What
the fuck do you mean by escalated?” Domenico asked, pushing at Seth’s hard chest. He would drive him into a corner and squeeze out every painful detail. Whatever Seth did, it must have made him real fucking guilty, because Dom now remembered the extravagant dinner, the perky attitude, and the hot blowjob. It all came back like bile, and made him so nauseated he could erupt with screams and fists at any moment.
Seth stepped back again. If only Domenico could’ve actually been a lie detector… Maybe he should get one and put Seth through it? Because those lying lips seemed to come up with a longer story each time Seth spoke.
“He… I mean, it’s dumb, Dom. He jerked off. It was behind the bars by the door, nowhere near me.”
Air burned Domenico’s lungs, but his mind couldn’t get around what he was hearing, as if Seth were speaking in a foreign language that was close enough to Italian, to allow Domenico understanding of maybe thirty percent of it all.
“You watched him jerk off?”
“Don’t you watch porn? I don’t even have Internet here!”
Domenico grabbed his head. “How do I even… respond to that?” he uttered, trying to break free of the brain fog. He could barely think, and the floor? It was shaking under his feet.
“I don’t know. It’s all that happened. Can we move on now?” Seth spread his arms, as if he were entitled to feeling frustrated with this conversation.
White spots appeared in Domenico’s vision, and he blindly punched Seth’s face. “You watched some guy jerk off! He made moves on you, and you didn’t tell me? He’s a fucking worm, a guest in my house who disrespects me from day one, and you didn’t say a thing?”
The attack sent Seth staggering to the sofa, but he kept himself upright, even if with one hand hugging his nose. “I didn’t want to see him lose an ear over some stupid shit! It was never meant to get to this point. And no one tells me anything! I had no idea he and Mark were fucking, or that he was a problem for you!”
“This is up to me to decide. And now look what happened,” Domenico yelled, gesturing at Mark. “Seems I’ve been keeping a snake in my own house, and now he’s protecting vermin!”
Gilded Agony Page 20
