Chapter 24
CHAPTER 24
Alfie Scott
I groaned sleepily into my pillow and instinctively pulled my knee higher. Waking up with kisses along my spine never hurt. Especially with his morning wood poking at my ass.
“What time is it?” I mumbled.
“Almost five. But no messages yet.”
Five?! Wait, message—oh shit, because it was Tuesday. Fuck. Yeah, okay, so the police had found the first surprise. Depending on how early people were out, number two and three would soon get called in. After that, media shitshow.
I let West’s seduction sweep me away again, and I arched my back and pushed out my ass for him. To which he hummed appreciatively and dropped an openmouthed kiss between my ass cheeks.
I shivered and groaned again, and he began driving me crazy. He kneaded my flesh firmly and sensually, all while he licked me and fucked me softly with his tongue.
“Fuck,” I exhaled.
My mouth was too dry, so I lifted my head and squinted at the nightstand. West always kept a glass of water there, so I reached for it and chugged the last half he’d left behind. Then I caught a whiff of his cologne, and I returned the glass.
“Did you shower?” I asked.
“Mm-hmm. I wanted to be ready.” He pulled himself up and spread my legs apart with his knees. Right after, I felt the head of his cock pushing against my ass, and he gripped my hips. “It’ll have to be quick, baby boy.”
Yup, I was good with that. We knew it was going to be a long day, so it was best to start it off with a nice release.
I dove into service mode and got up on all fours for him, and he made another sound of approval.
“Fuck, you have the most exquisite little ass…” He stroked my cheeks and only pushed the tip of his cock inside me. Then he rubbed his fingers around my opening, and I clenched up. “Perfect,” he whispered. “I want you to fuck yourself on me.”
Fuck yes.
He started easing back to sit on his heels, so I followed eagerly and took more and more of him. It was slow, it was fiery, it was sensational. Way more friction than when we used oil.
Each wave of excitement that rolled over me woke me up and made me greedy.
Before long, I was rolling my hips and fucking myself on his cock, and he let me control the pace while he kissed my neck and stroked me off. He used both hands and cupped my balls too.
More. Deeper. Harder. Faster.
I let out a moan and picked up the pace. My breathing turned shallow, and I felt his internal struggle with self-restraint with every thrust. He wanted to take over, but I did have one magical power for quickies. Nobody could get him off faster than me when I went to town on him. He sucked in sharp breaths and grunted through clenched teeth, and his touches became rougher and laced with more desperation.
“I’ll get you there,” I moaned.
He muffled a groan against my neck and stroked me faster.
A moment later, he had to slap a hand over my mouth because I became too loud. Fuck, sorry, but I couldn’t help it. It felt so damn good to let go of all my inhibitions. I slammed down and eased up, constricting my muscles as much as I could, and it pulled me closer toward my orgasm.
“I’m so close, baby,” he gritted out.
“Fill me, papi,” I whimpered. My heart raced, and I could hear my own pulse. I flushed with heat and went as fast as I could, and he was about to kill my fight. He rubbed my cock greedily, twisting his grip slightly on the upstroke, and it set off one shudder after another. “I’m gonna make a mess.”
“Make a filthy mess for me,” he urged, out of breath. “Come all over yourself.”
I sucked in a breath and screwed my eyes shut before it was all over. My climax rolled in quickly and crashed down on me, and I cried out, only to choke on my next breath. I had to hold it. Hold my breath, just like that, to prolong the pleasure. Oh my God, I came so hard.
It took me a moment to register his sounds. He was coming too, and he sank his teeth into my flesh.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Shivering and panting, I let my head loll back to his shoulder, and I grew super sensitive to his touches. Gah , I fucking trembled when he rubbed a hand up my chest.
“Too sensitive,” I gasped.
He blew out a breath and returned his sticky hands to my hips.
I shuddered once more. I definitely needed a shower.
I’d coated my abs and thighs with my load. And his hands.
“Christ,” I breathed out.
“I needed that.” He kissed the spot below my ear and lingered. “Today’s going to be rough.”
Yeah, probably.
“We’ll text a lot,” I murmured.
As if on cue, his phone went off, and he rested his chin on my shoulder.
I stared at his phone on the nightstand.
“So it begins,” he whispered.
I gathered one of his hands in mine and kissed his knuckles—and he received another message.
Not two seconds passed before it rang.
West released another breath and gently lifted me off him, and I climbed out of bed on the other side, closest to the bathroom.
He left the bed too, and he eyed his phone. But before checking the texts, he glanced over at me with hesitation written across his face.
“Can you stop by my office with lunch?” he asked quietly. “I have a feeling I’ll need a break around one or two.”
I nodded once. “I’ll be there. I’ll pick up a couple cheesesteaks and a box of cannoli.”
He flashed a soft smile. “I love you. You know how I want my steak. Extra onion.”
Duh, and with provolone. Was I new here?
I think I know why you asked me to go to work late today.
I chewed on my lip and responded quickly.
Don’t say anything to Ma until I get there.
It was eight-twenty. Ma would be getting out of bed around now. When she worked, she’d get up at six, but her sick leave had turned her into a night owl. And it worked in my favor now. I’d dropped the kids off at school, and Colby had the day off to study in secrecy. He was now hell-bent on getting his GED early, and I couldn’t be happier. West was gonna be so fucking proud—and smug.
Either way, I’d get to my folks’ place before Mom had switched on the news.
Unless I got stuck here all day, of course. Traffic at this hour? Fuck me sideways. Actually, don’t. I was sore.
I blew out a breath and checked my other messages. I had some in our group chat, which reminded me I had to make more of an effort to leave a mark in there. Especially on a day like today. Keep up appearances and all. I did have a meme I’d saved for a special occasion. But first, I texted Kellan privately.
What’re you up to today?
I needed help with West’s Christmas present. He’d get a new watch, obviously, and…after that, no idea. I was usually good at that stuff.
He answered right away.
I’m thinking about jumping from the balcony so I don’t have to pick up Nessa from the airport today. She wants to go shopping. You?
I snorted softly and grinned.
Traffic eased up a little, so I placed my phone on my thigh and followed the herd.
Back in the day, we’d cheer each other up with bizarre responses, so I had just the right thing in mind.
Someone honked nearby, because that always helped.
While I was driving this slowly, I did the responsible thing and only tended to conversations I could engage in with minimal brain power. So I went into the group chat and uploaded the Philly meme about how we waved here, and I pressed send.
“Fucking finally,” I muttered. That empty pocket in the left lane was so mine. I sped up and managed to zigzag probably fifty feet until shit backed up again.
All right, now I could respond to Kellan.
I grabbed my smokes and lit one up, then rolled down the window and typed while keeping one eye on the road.
Responsible was my middle name.
About to have my asshole whacked.
“Oh fuck. Christ!” I laughed at myself.
*waxed
I snickered. I was totally telling West later.
“Ahhh, there we go.” I could finally see my exit up ahead, and I went for it. Dick move—sorry for cutting you off, lady. Yeah, my bad.
I flicked a super-quick glance at the screen and grinned when I saw Kellan’s answer.
That’s not better!
I cracked up. I begged to differ! I’d rather get my asshole waxed than killed!
Finn left the conversation.
“Wait, what?” I dropped my gaze once more, and I?—
Bro, were you supposed to send that to me in private?
“Oh, no, no, no, no…” Holy shit, the first answer hadn’t been from Kellan. That was Colm! “No, no, no, no!”
It’s a bad day for reading comprehension.
“Nooo!” I groaned. Not Liam! Motherfucker!
The driver right behind me honked, and this was officially not my day. I stepped on the gas and flicked ashes out the window, then the whole smoke because, fuck this. I was done. I had to focus.
Oh my God, I couldn’t believe it. And Finn had left the chat!
I laughed and kept groaning, knowing I had a choice to make. Either I joked it off, or I…
I had to joke it off.
I had to double down.
By the time I arrived at my parents’, a lot had happened in the chat. Kellan had dragged Finn back, Colm and Eric had debated whether I was a pain slut, Liam asked if they used hot wax or cold—never mind, Finn had left again. Oh, fuck me. Liam then let us know he was about to piss himself laughing, and Kellan added Finn once more.
I blew out a breath and scratched my head.
Here goes.
Excuse me for wanting to share more about myself. I’ll remember this when I go in for the bleaching next week.
That should do it.
Colm was the first to reply.
What are you bleaching? Your nose hair?
Eric followed.
You don’t know how fast his ass hair grows out, mate.
Then Liam.
We could also bond over football, little brother. That’s an option too.
I squinted up the sidewalk and, yeah, no, fuck it, I gave up.
Next time I checked my phone, I was sure Finn would be ghost again.
Actually, I did have one last thing to type, because one of us was supposed to do it. Might as well be me. Plus, it would end this conversation hella swift.
Guys, have you seen the news?
There.
I jogged up the stoop and hit the buzzer, and Dad let me in.
The elevator worked for once, so I didn’t need to run up the stairs and risk sweat around my unwhacked asshole.
That was nice.
Dad opened the door just as I was about to knock.
“Oh—hey.” I smiled and walked in. “How are you?”
“I’ll let you know when I’ve narrowed it down to half a dozen emotions,” he said. “What about you?”
“Other than the fact that I just made a giant ass of myself in a group chat, I’m great.” I shrugged off my coat and hung it up.
“Alfie, is that you?” Ma called.
“Aye!” I kicked off my shoes next and trailed into the living room. “How are you, Mom?”
She was still in her robe and curlers, and she looked comfortable. Like she might actually be enjoying the time off work—if only a little. If only in the mornings.
“I am okay. Your father bought breakfast.” She gestured at the coffee table. “One day, he will learn to cook.”
“I don’t think he will, honey,” Dad answered.
I chuckled and dipped down to kiss her cheek. Then I sat next to her, and she prepared me a plate with scrambled eggs, a croissant, and bacon.
“What brings you by, mijo ?” she asked.
“I, uh…” I exchanged a brief glance with Dad. “I wanted to talk to you.”
“Yes…?”
I cleared my throat and left my plate on the table for now. “It’s about the attack.” I saw how she stiffened, and I hated it. “I want you to know it’s over. Those two men who’ve been going after those women—and you—they’re not gonna be a problem anymore.”
She knitted her eyebrows in confusion, and I nodded at Dad to turn on the news.
They weren’t gonna show anything gruesome or nothing. Uncensored videos were leaked on social media.
“What do you mean?” Mom asked me, turning toward the screen.
The local station showed a banner at the bottom that read “Who runs Philly?” which was a play on the messages that’d been left with each body part. Simple white card in a simple white envelope.
You know who runs Philly.
“Thank you for being with us today, Claire. We are currently waiting for the press conference…”
Underneath the headline, it read?—
“Why does it say severed limbs connected to South Philly assaults?” Mom demanded.
I scratched my nose. I had to be careful here. “From what I understand, the body parts that were found belong to the men who did that to you and the other women.”
She looked to me sharply. “And you know this how, Alfredo?”
Blergh.
“I saw it on the news.” I shrugged. “West was called in early because of it.”
I was sure he was waiting for the ratings to come in from this morning’s episode.
The screen beckoned her once more, and she covered her mouth with her hand. The two women in the studio were talking to some forensics specialist, and they were basically repeating what we’d heard since seven AM.
Dad glanced over at me. “Thank you,” he mouthed.
I nodded with a dip of my chin.
Without looking away from the TV, Mom grasped my hand.
She had tears rolling down her cheek, and I gave her hand a squeeze.
“Tell me you didn’t do this,” she croaked.
“What the—fuck no. Mom .”
“I know, I’m sorry. I just—I’m sorry, baby. This is…” She let out a shuddering breath and wiped at her cheeks. “They’re dead?”
“Dead and cut up,” I said.
“ Dio .” She kept shaking her head as she stared at the screen. But then she shook her head quicker and waved something off. “Turn it off, amore . I can’t. I don’t want to see.”
Dad switched off the TV and turned his chair toward her. “What can I?—”
“They’re gone,” she whimpered. “They’re gone. I…I think—” She shifted in her seat to face me, and she wiped at her cheeks again. Nerves tightened inside me, and all I could do was wait her out. “Promise me, Alfie. Did—did the Sons… Did they do this?”
“How should I know? I sure fucking hope not.” I reached out and wiped a tear from her jaw. “They haven’t said anything to me.”
“Oh.” She let out a low cry and pushed herself up off the couch. “I-I need to pray. I want to go to church.”
“What— now ? Why?” I asked.
“Because I need it!” She got heated, and she rounded the table and wiped her nose. “This is too much. I need to pray. It’s too much in my head. I know you are lying to me again, but the lies make me feel better. I have to see Father O’Malley.” With that said, she limped into the bedroom, presumably to get dressed.
Fuck me. I ran a hand through my hair and exhaled.
That could’ve gone a lot worse, couldn’t it?
“Not too shabby,” Dad muttered under his breath.
“Right?” I was counting this as a win.
“Phil!” Ma shouted. “Take me to church!”
I lifted my brows.
He chuckled quietly and got out of his chair. “I guess I’m taking her to church.”
“Damn mobsters,” I heard Ma cry to herself. “It will be better once I ask Father O’Malley for forgiveness.”
Whoa, what the fuck? “Forgiveness for what?” I was hurrying into the bedroom before I knew it, because I had fucking limits. She didn’t owe an apology to anybody.
“Because I am a hypocrite,” she said tearfully, removing her curlers. “I should not be happy two men are dead, no matter what they have done. But I am. I’m also so…so mad at’chu, Alfredo!” In a fraction of a second, she flipped to anger instead, and then she was waving a fist in my face.
“Ay, put down your weapon, Ma.” I lowered her hand and held it. Part of me—fuck, sorry, but I wanted to laugh. She was too cute. “What did I do?”
“I don’t know,” she wept. “You should come with me to church.”
Fuck no, I’d been there two days ago for Mass. That was plenty. I’d almost fallen asleep, too.
“Or we can do something productive with our time,” I offered.
She glared at me for that. “I think we both know you need to ask for forgiveness too.”
“For what?” I widened my arms. “You know what I think?” I dropped my arms again and took a step closer to her. “I think it’s time you meet them properly. Liam, Finn, Kellan… And not the stiff nods when you accidentally pass them outside church on Sundays.”
She scoffed. “You are crazy. You want me to think they’re nice, yes?”
“I want you to get to know them,” I corrected. “Let their charms cloud your judgment until you can’t wait to see Emilia and the little ones for another birthday party or barbecue. Trust, it worked on both West and me.”
At least Dad thought I was funny.
Mom, on the other hand… She stalked into her closet, probably to find a dress for church, and she was in there for approximately two seconds. Then she rushed out again and came toward me, not stopping until she had her arms around my midsection.
I looked over my shoulder to find Dad watching us.
“What the fuck?” I mouthed. What could I say to make this better? And to stop the roller coaster? ’Cause, frankly, I was ready to get off. Her mood swings were giving me whiplash.
“Maybe I don’t want the truth, and that’s why I need to ask for forgiveness,” she cried. “My sweet boy—you could not have done this. Promise me.”
She didn’t want the truth.
I smiled and cupped her face in my hands. “Ma. I had nothing to do with this. But I will tell you one thing. If I ever find out who did it, I’ll be the first to send them a big fucking bouquet of flowers, and I ain’t sorry about that. I’m glad they’re gone. They’ll never hurt you again.”
She sniffled and wiped fruitlessly at her cheeks. “Okay,” she croaked. “I want to heal now. I want to buy Christmas gifts for my grandbabies, and I…and I never want your father to be in charge of dinner ever again. I cannot handle more fast food.”
I chuckled and brushed back some of her hair.
She released a heavy breath. “I will not ask any more questions about this.”
“All right.” I hesitated, ’cause I did have one more thing to bring up. It was only a matter of days before the cops knocked on her door to ask questions. “Um. Just so you know, the police might stop by. You know. They’ll wonder if the Sons are involved, in which case it looks strange that…you know, I’m related to them, and to you…”
She cocked a brow. “You want me to play stupid and act like I didn’t raise a mobster. Yes? And guess what—I will lie better than you right now. I will also beg for forgiveness after.”
The wonders of Catholicism.
“You should come with me to church,” she repeated decisively. “Go eat your breakfast. We will leave in fifteen minutes.”
Oh, for the love of?—