To Love A Hitman

by Randell Mccreary

  The far side of the beach, houses had been built into the cliffside, beautiful and colourful and framed with trees, with high, regal balconies overlooking the sparkling bay. Small boats zipped around in the distance, and children splashed with their parents in the water.

  Most of Alessandro’s day was spent out of the water, lying on a towel on the sand under an umbrella and soaking up the sun. Not that he didn’t do much of that every day, being an Italian. At some point in the late afternoon, Michele managed to hoist him over his muscled shoulder and dump him into waist-high water.

  Alessandro squealed (which shall never be spoken of again) when Niccolo tackled him into the water, his outstretched hand splashing water up into his face. When he came back up, Niccolo was doubled over in laughter, and Michele was looking at him with some kind of fond glint in his eyes. Steeling his nerves, Alessandro smiled gently and reached up, pulling Michele by the neck into a gentle kiss, carding his fingers through the hair at his nape.

  Then Niccolo was behind him, his hands groping and squeezing Alessandro’s ass, reaching into his pants. Now he could add the beach to the places he had had an orgasm. On the drive home, Alessandro did indeed enjoy the scenery while Michele and Niccolo chatted and passed back snacks from the front. Resting his head against the car’s window, he sighed and simply watched. As he drifted off again, he could feel the briefest touch of a hand on his knee.

  * * *

  They had just returned with Alessandro’s school books. It was less than a month until it started, now, and despite the excitement, Alessandro was mildly intimidated at the thought of it. He had been smart enough to get in, he had everything ready for it, but he was worried that his demeanor would hinder him. He was shy. Even the moves he made in his relationship usually came with forethought. Much bravery was required for him to do something spontaneous. Much bravery or much alcohol.

  When the first day of classes finally rolled around, Alessandro was quaking in his boots as he stepped out of Michele’s car, who had graciously offered to drive him the rather short distance to the college. With a shaky smile and a tight grip on the bag over his shoulder, Alessandro patted the hood of the Alfa Romeo. As Michele drove away, Alessandro rose his hand in farewell. Then, bracing himself, he turned and started walking.

  The lecture hall was large but not gargantuan. It was beginning to fill up already, though there was still time until class officially began.

  “I saw you pull up with Michele Scarselli,” someone said at Alessandro’s right.

  He turned his head, his eyes falling upon a boy his age with dark, cropped hair and tanned skin. Alessandro’s mouth twitched up into a nervous smile. “Yeah, I—he’s my brother.”

  The boy’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline. “Didn’t know he had a brother.”

  “I’m adopted,” Alessandro lied. It was the lie that he and his lovers had decided on should anybody notice them together.

  “Right.” The boy didn’t look convinced. “I’m Luca.”

  “Alessandro.”

  After that, they fell into easy conversation. Somehow, it was no feat for Alessandro to overcome his usual introvertedness. Luca was witty and kind, and seemed to bring out the same qualities in Alessandro. More than once through their class, he found himself poking fun at their bald professor. He was almost excited, at the end of the class, for the next one.

  * * *

  Alessandro had been splitting his time between Michele and Niccolo, and Luca. On the other hand, things with Michele and Niccolo were better than ever. But at the same time, Alessandro was falling into an emotional pit that he wasn’t sure he could pull himself out of. Perhaps it was a subconscious decision, but Alessandro was suddenly spending less time with his lovers and more time with his friends. For the most part, they studied, helping each other through their shared class. The rest of the time, they’d gone out for fun to get away from their studies. Not that he didn’t spend much of his time in Michele or Niccolo’s beds, but he needed to escape what he felt for them (and what they didn’t feel for him).

  A few months passed since the start of college. As the workload began to pick up, Luca’s presence in the Scarselli house and at Alessandro’s house was becoming more of a constant. And things were weird. Michele had gotten along quite well with Luca—initially. But suddenly, with Luca more and more, Michele had been acting. . .odd. He hadn’t been blatant about it so far. Just touchiness, the occasional interruption of their study session, small things like that. It was unusual to see. Michele had never before exhibited signs of jealousy or whatever it was.

  “Michele’s been acting weird,” Alessandro commented one day as he and Niccolo leaned against a kitchen counter, waiting for water to come to a boil. “Every time he sees me with Luca, he acts. . .weird.”

  “I know,” Niccolo replied. “He told me the other day that he. . .didn’t like Luca hanging out with you so much. That it was getting in the way of our arrangement.

  “That’s stupid.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m just. . .friends with him, and we’re classmates, and we study together. Michele knew that college would take up a part of my life. I don’t see what his problem is.”

  “I know. He’s being ridiculous.”

  “I’m glad you agree.” The water was bubbling. “I hope he comes around.”

  But the jealousy or whatever it was hit its peak the next week.

  Luca was over yet again, and he and Alessandro were holed up on the floor of Michele’s bedroom, desperate to finish a class project lest it becomes overdue and they get their grades docked.

  Someone knocked on the closed door. Before Alessandro could even call out for them to come in, the door creaked open, and Michele’s smiling face poked through the crack. His eyes fell on Luca, and the smile dropped from his face.

  “Oh, you’re here again,” Michele said. His voice was almost bitter. Then he turned to Alessandro, the rest of him sliding into the room. “I thought we could go out.”

  Alessandro coughed. “Uhhh, now?”

  Michele smiled expectantly.

  “I’m kind of in the middle of something,” Alessandro told him. “We have a project due soon and we really need to get it done and—”

  “I think you should leave,” Michele told Luca. The way he said it was too sweet, too kind. If it weren’t for his words, he could have been complimenting someone on their new dress.

  “But we have a project,” Luca protested, but with Michele glaring at him, it didn’t take long for Luca to crack and stand up, packing away his things. To Alessandro, he said, “I’ll see you tomorrow or something.” And with a final glance at Michele, he left.

  “The was unnecessary,” Alessandro said when Michele had finished staring at Luca’s retreating back. “We were working and—”

  “You’re spending too much time with him,” Michele replied simply.

  “Too much time?” Alessandro asked incredulously. “We were working on a project! It was completely uncalled for for you to send him out and no—don’t interrupt me. You’re being completely ridiculous. Every since I became friends with Luca, you have been possessive and rude, and I’m tired of it. If you want me to say it plainly, here: there is nothing going on between me and him. End of story.”

  “I don’t want you spending so much time with him,” Michele asserted coldly. His fists were clenched and his body rigid. His perpetual smile was suddenly not so perpetual. “You are violating our arrangement. You are here to be my third partner, not Luca’s.” He spat the name like it was poison. “End of story.”

  Alessandro was speechless. He couldn’t believe Michele would pull that card. Before he could pull himself together enough to retaliate, Michele spun on his heel and shut the door behind him.

  Alessandro leaned back against the bed. He still didn’t know what to think. Pressing the back of his hand to his mouth, Alessandro blinked back tears. Had he really underestimated the extent of Michele’s cruelty? Underestimated was more of a
euphemism than an accuracy. Alessandro had thought Michele’s cruelty nonexistent. Had thought Michele incapable of cruelty. But he had been wrong about that.

  * * *

  Alessandro had expected deep consequences to his argument with Michele. Perhaps the terminating of their agreement, which would pull the safety net out from under his family. But so far, all Michele had done was ignore him.

  The sex had come to a halt, the easy conversation had come to a halt, and the rift between Alessandro and Michele had inadvertently torn one between Alessandro and Niccolo who, although he didn’t agree with what Michele was doing, was had been swept along in a tide of awkward tug-and-war between the quarreling two thirds of the relationship.

  The lack of sex hadn’t been the reason for Alessandro's foul mood. Suddenly, there were no more dates, no more pillow talk at the end of the day, no more eating breakfast together. All there was now was awkward eye contact, Michele leaving the room when Alessandro entered it, Niccolo shooting an apologetic look over his shoulder as he was dragged out with him, Michele not even acknowledging Alessandro while driving him to class—the works.

  It was when Luca brought it up after class one day that Alessandro realised just how obvious he was being about it.

  “Something’s up,” Luca had said.

  “Nothing’s up,” Alessandro had replied. But with a little coaxing and bribery on Luca’s part, Alessandro finally cracked: “Michele and I are. . .together. In a sense.”

  Luca smiled triumphantly. “I knew he wasn’t your brother.”

  Alessandro chuckled wetly. “He kind of. . .got mad at me after you left the other day. Says we were spending way too much time together.

  “So he’s jealous?”

  “Yeah and that’s stupid because we’re just friends and he doesn’t. . .there’s nothing to worry about, right?”

  “Absolutely,” Luca assured. He pursed his lips. “I’m sure it’ll work itself out.”

  Luca let it go for another week but with Alessandro’s noticeably declining attitude, he didn’t hesitate in informing Alessandro that he would be coming over and explaining the situation to Michele. After class, he accompanied Alessandro in his walk home.

  As soon as Michele spotted the two of them together, his face soured. As though determined to continue ignoring Alessandro, he lifted his chin and crossed his arms. He avoided looking at Alessandro but he stared Luca down. It almost appeared as though he was trying to scare Luca away.

  But Luca, who was more resilient than camels in the desert, was unfazed. He marched up to Michele. “I’m tired of Alessandro being in a bad mood because of you. I’m going to explain this to you, and I’m only going to do it once: there is nothing, nothing going on between us. I can’t pretend to understand your relationship with him but I don’t need to because I know that if you cared about him at all, you would trust him and not treat him like he’s beneath you. Don’t be an asshole and fix this. Understand?”

  The way Michele was looking at Luca was strange. A mix of fear and respect, Alessandro surmised. But when Michele’s eyes flicked up to him, they were nothing but apologetic.

  “I’m going to leave now,” Luca stated. “Sort yourselves out.”

  When he was gone, Michele heaved a great sigh. He seemed to be having a great deal of difficulty meeting Alessandro’s eyes but Alessandro, desperate to reconcile and talk to him, strode right in front of him and placed a gentle hand on his cheek, turning his face.

  “I’m sorry,” Michele breathed. “I just. . .when I saw him with you I just got so mad. I hated it. I trust you, I really do but. . .I don’t know. I just couldn’t handle seeing you be so cozy with that guy.”

  “Do you need to hear it again?” Alessandro questioned, eyebrows raised. “Luca. And. I. Are. Not. To-gether. Okay? We’re not together and we never will be.”

  “I know that. I trust you.”

  “Thank you.” Alessandro dropped his forehead to Michele’s shoulder. “It’s just that. . .you and Niccolo. . .I feel things for you that I’ve never felt before. And I know the circumstances aren’t ideal since I’m your. . .bedwarmer. But I want you to know that I like you, even if you don’t feel the same.”

  Michele’s armed circled him and his head rested atop his own. “I. . .I do feel the same. I do. When I saw you, you were beautiful. And I liked you physically. And then I got to know you over these past months and I fell in love with the rest of you.”

  Alessandro gasped at the L word. He wrapped his arms around Michele and squeezed tightly.

  “You should probably hear this from Niccolo,” Michele continued, “but he and I talked awhile ago. And. . .he’ll tell you the same thing I just did.”

  Alessandro smiled into Michele’s shoulder. “Really?”

  “Really.” He drew back. “So are we good?”

  Alessandro pretended to think about it, and Michele groaned. Alessandro cracked a smile and took Michele’s hand. “We’re good.”

  POSTLUDE

  A shirt was thrown into Alessandro’s face. Surprised, he peeled it from his face. It was silk. A tie followed it, then a blazer, then pants.

  “Get dressed!” Michele sang from somewhere (he was obscured by the garments on Alessandro’s face). “We’re going out for dinner!”

  “What’s the occasion?” Alessandro called.

  Michele snatched the dress pants off of Alessandro’s face. “We dine in the name of reconciliation. We dine in the name of love!”

  Alessandro grinned. “You should have been an acting student.”

  “Who says I wasn’t?” Michele beamed at him. It was blinding.

  Alessandro was blindfolded before he got into the back of Michele’s Alfa Romeo. Someone had reached hand to grasp his hand but he didn’t know who. Regardless, he appreciated the circles they were rubbing into the back of his hand.

  The drive wasn’t long but with his sudden inability to see, they might as well have been driving to the beach again.

  When the car stopped, Alessandro was guided out of the car. A hand settled on his back, another one took his own. They belonged to two different people.

  “Okay, ready?” Michele whispered in his ear.

  Alessandro nodded, and the blindfold fell away. Before him was a restaurant. He recognised it from driving past it year after year but never going inside.

  “The food’s amazing here,” Niccolo informed him. “Shall we?”

  Alessandro nodded again. At either side, Niccolo and Michele walked next to him, Niccolo even holding the door open for him.

  They were seated by a young woman at a round table lit with a candle. After their food arrived, they slipped into conversation. It was like old times again, only better. This time, they talked with the knowledge that something was going to happen. The next big step in their relationship.

  “I think we should order some champagne,” Niccolo suggested. “As celebration.”

  They ordered a flute for each of them.

  “To us,” Michele announced, holding his flute up.

  Niccolo and Alessandro grinned at each other, then tapped their own flutes to Michele’s. After they had each taken a few sips in silence, Niccolo piped up again. “I know that Michele and you. . .talked the other day. But I want you to hear if from me, too. I want to be with you. And I want to be with Michele. I want to be with both of you because I have feelings for both of you.” It was awkward but it got the point across.

  “Ditto,” Alessandro said.

  Michele grinned so widely that all his teeth were visible and his eyes were nothing more than joyful slits. He raised his flute again then drained it. “Dessert?” he asked.

  There was a rather bold hand on Alessandro’s knee that appeared after their dessert arrived. It creeped up as Alessandro slid a piece of tiramisu into his mouth, and he shot the hand’s owner a look as it brushed his crotch. He grabbed it and laced their fingers together, setting their clasped hands atop the table.

  When they finished, they sat in silence f
or a few moments.

  “Well I think this has all been very productive,” Niccolo said.

  “That’s one word for it,” Michele added. “Do my dear lovers want to go home?”

  “Keep talking like that and I’ll send you home alone,” Niccolo laughed.

  Alessandro simply sat back, content, watching his official lovers carry on with their antics. Another hand grasped his own (in addition to the sneaky one he held atop the table) and squeezed.

  Alessandro smiled.

  ~*~

  PARANORMAL & SCI-FI ROMANCE COLLECTION

  ~*~

  The Sold Daughter