Page 45 of Pragma
Two hours later, we are walking out of the lobby, waiting for the taxi we called to arrive. It’s cold, but I feel warm inside.
Joel offered us somegrappa,an Italian liquor with a percentage of alcohol so high, it is still burning inside my stomach. Contrary to Moretti, River’s brother is the perfect host. It was awkward at first to spend time with them, but those guys are not as ignorant as I thought. Mannerless and ungraceful, yes, but Moretti and Nero have quite a nice repertoire of bloody stories from work. We exchanged some while River and Joel kept yapping non-stop about their past. It wasn’t a friendly talk—we kept using snappy comebacks and comparing our ruthlessness—but not a boring one either. I want to see those gold knuckles Moretti keptprattling on about and in exchange I’ll show him my katana. Next time.
Joel kept showing flashes of a strong will from time to time, standing his ground against the gangster. Also he promised me a couple of pieces of lingerie I wanted to purchase from his online shop. Maybe it won’t be a complete headache to see them again. But I’m still extremely irritated with River.
“It’s weird,” he suddenly voices. “I’ve been chasing my lil’ bro’s shadow for so long, and now?—”
I don’t let him finish his annoyingly profound realization, because I need to spit some words out. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about Joel and all the fucking rest!” I clench the sword sheath in my palm, fuming.
“Everyone has a secret they want to deny or hide.” He sounds so damn flat. Where did all the emotions go? Did he leave them with his brother?
“Not between us, River.”
“That’s a fantasy.”
A taxi stops in front of us, and I walk with him to it. “Fuck you!”
“I did that already,” he has the nerve to say. He’s fucking teasing me about it now? Are his eyes sparkling?
“Bakayaro!” I get inside when River opens the door for me. “It has always been natural being around you, and now I feel fucking moths inside my belly.”
“Moths?” he asks, not getting in the car with me. Isn’t he coming?
“Yeah, because it’s weird and hot, you know, moth and flame.”
He snorts, and I see a tiny smile on his lips, enough to show me some teeth. Does he feel this happy because he saw Joel?
“Fucking hell, I don’t like it. I hate it,” I blurt out.
The smile drops from his face. He nods then closes the door and tells the taxi driver my address through the window.
I stay seated as the car starts moving. He thought my comment was related to how he makes me feel. It couldn’t be further from the truth. Then why didn’t I explain the misunderstanding? And why does my chest ache?
Chapter Seven
RIVER
Ileave the bathroom with a towel around my neck. It took me one hour from Moretti’s luxurious apartment to mine, but I needed time to think.
I only pull on a pair of gray sweats, leaving them low on my hips. My head is still immersed in thoughts as I start to towel-dry my hair. I feel lighter, like the massive boulder that I have been carrying over my shoulders for years has been removed.
I saw my little brother. And he could see me. Really see me. With his own eyes. I knew he regained his sight years back—I paid for the operation—but having him in front of me, those big eyes clearly watching me was such a shock. He wasn’t repulsed by my scarred appearance, nor angry over my absence. He was upset at first, but then I witnessed his happiness, so much that he cried. We both did. I smile at the memory. He still tilts his head to one side when he’s embarrassed and turns bright red from his neck up. His fingers are as light as I remember and his skin looks as pale as a ceramic doll.
But a bitter-sweet taste lingers in my mouth. Joel is fine, but how fine can he be living with a mobster? With all the dangeralways swirling around? Was all my effort in keeping him safe for nothing?
Can’t change what I did, anyway.I look at my reflection in the bedroom mirror.The past is like my scars; they can turn faint, but they will never fade away.
Joel seems already too deep in the organized crime world. I didn’t ask him about his friendship with Arturo Enzino, since only hearing the surname made Moretti and Nero tense—the in-war between the families must be getting worse.
Moretti. I can’t believe Joel is in love with such a vicious mobster. The same man who killed our abusive father—I finally have a name to put to that face. I have feelings for a ruthless yakuza prince, so I can’t judge. I’m just worried. Joel has always been softer, big-hearted, too trusting.
Fate. That’s how Aki described our first meeting, even though I later found out that he made it happen. The same goes for Joel and Moretti.Does that mean we are destined or doomed to be together?
What I thought was out of reach is now within it, or is it? Him. He came with me, not even knowing where we were going, but ready to destroy everything in our path to get to my brother. I know he’s jealous of Joel, but he cares about me. We are both not good with words, but his possessive behavior toward me has always been proof enough.
This new sexy development is the real problem. Only remembering his vise-like hole sucking me in makes me feel dizzy with desire. But I remember his words. He has been clear. He doesn’t reciprocate. He feels the attraction to me, but he hates it.
I felt the sudden urge to tear off the taxi door with my own hands when he said that. He didn’t seem to hate it, though, while he rode my cock, bouncing that greedy ass on my lap, moaning like a porn star. That sexy face he made, eyeing me with such raw lust.
