Page 44 of Pragma
I glare back at him, because tap water? This reinforces my opinion: the gangster has no fucking manners.
“You said you lived in-in LA until a few days ago. Did you…ever think of contacting me…directly?” River’s brother asks him hesitantly.
“All the time,” he trembly says, taking in a big breath before continuing. “A year after you moved to Boston, I got very close to calling you. It was the night I almost died.” My eyes fall on the uneven skin on the back of his hand, and my thoughts go to the cigar burns on my back. As usual, an instant wave of rage hits me, but I force myself to remember that we killed all the fuckers responsible.
“Hearing is the last sense to be lost when you are dying. Did you know that?” River continues.Where is he going with this?“The day of the fire, when I was about to surrender to the pain and…my fate, I heard you, Joel, screaming my name at the top of your lungs. Begging me to fight. That’s how I got out of that warehouse, I followed the echo of your voice.”
How many fucking things am I discovering today? He never wanted to talk about the day he got those burns with me. His brother, too, was kind of a no-go topic. I had to force him at times to get information. Still, I thought I knew everything about him, but only now, I start to see the hidden parts he kept for himself. How much more am I unaware of? I don’t like this uncertainty between us. It feels as if there’s an actual space dividing us.
Fuck that! I chew hard on my gum and plaster my front to his back and reach out to take River’s hand before his brother can. Childish, but I’m a rich, spoiled, only child who lost both his parents at the same time and turned overly possessive toward the only important person in my life. I need to stake my claim. I’m the one River stuck by all this time. I’m his boss, his best friend, his lover. All me. While Joel is only his brother.
River looks at me, one brow cocked. He knows what I’m doing, and instead of pulling away, his thumb hooks with mine.
“I’m so glad you did, Riv.” Joel’s eyes are watery again. He blinks a couple of times trying unsuccessfully to keep the tears in. Then he grabs a humongous bag from the empty chair near him and places it on his legs, slides a hand inside, and starts rummaging. He huffs and then tosses on the counter a small LGBTQ+ flag, a Moo Box, a nail clipper, and a pack of Kleenex. The latter seems to be what he was looking for because he pulls a tissue out and wipes his teary eyes.
“Is that an apocalypse bag?” I ask, leaning over River’s shoulder to get a peek at the rest of the contents.
“In a way,” Moretti states, brushing his lips over Joel’s temple while at the same time pulling the bag toward them.
“Are you going to stay in touch with Fly now?” he asks River.
“Do you want me to?” River looks at his brother.
Joel’s loud and instant “yes” resounds in the living room; it makes me pout. I guess I’ll have to share alittlepart of River from now on.Kuso!
Moretti sighs, seemingly not happy either about the prospect.
“Next time I see you, you better keep that gun tucked away, or I won’t be responsible for my actions,” I tell him with a large hint of threat in my voice.
“Bring it on, my gold knuckles will love to make your acquaintance.”
“That sounds like fun. Looking forward to it.”
“Back off. I’m not going to pull back because you killed my father. You didn’t do it to help us. You were just following orders. I should just take Joel away from you. He was already kidnapped once while under your protection,” River hisses.
Moretti sniffs, tightening his arm around Joel. “I dare you try. Like living with you would be any different.”
“I’m not a kid. I decide where I want to be,” Joel declares, showing some claws.
“Marco, you and Fly are engaged, doesn’t that make River and Akira your family?” Luca teases the other mobster.
“Engaged?” River exclaims.
“Marco proposed a couple of hours ago,” Joel confesses with the happiest grin.
“Italian and Japanese mafia holding hands.” I let out a derisive laugh at that. “Not even in a million years.” Our values and methods are too different. We would clash too much.
“It’s unprecedented, but possible.” Joel’s naivety is too cute. He’ll be devoured in one gulp by Moretti. I should probably put a couple of men on him, just in case. Not that I care, but River would turn batshit crazy again if something happens to his little brother.
Moretti grunts but gives him another kiss, not in the least worried about showing his profound affection.
“Please tell me you top the asshole,” I tell Joel, letting my lips curve into an evil smile. He turns red with embarrassment, which tells me exactly his preference.
I can only imagine River’s face falling as he mutters, “Fucking hell!”
“Who wants a nice cup of affogato?” Joel suddenly claps his hands with too much enthusiasm—his cheeks are still crimson, but his beaming smile makes River laugh low and deep.
And I’m pissed all over again. “If you can make it matcha.”
