Chapter 4 #2
Theoretically, after a week at a remote cabin in the woods with the man I’d been in love with since we were teenagers, and who let me fuck him every night, I should’ve been the most relaxed man on earth.
Instead, I felt like I needed to rip the skin off my bones because the level of nervous energy circulating through my body was enough to light up the whole goddamn night.
I hated the feeling, and I hated even more that the odds of Joey finding his way into my bed tonight were somewhere between zero and no fucking way.
“We think he bribed someone on the inside,” Matteo bit out.
The controlled fury in his voice was unstable, as was the unquestioning determination to keep Connor safe. He’d burn the world down before he let something happen to him. Joey would never want to hear me say the same, but I understood exactly how Matteo felt.
“Any thoughts on who?”
“More than thoughts. The rats in the basement told them we had someone coming in, so we needed to get the room ready. Those motherfuckers down there are laying tarp.” Matteo said it with a low chuckle, but there was nothing funny about the way he sounded. He was ready to burn down the world.
“Has that agent worked out?” Joey asked from the doorway.
If Matteo had questions about the sling Joey still wore, he kept them to himself. Beyond the speculative look, he hadn’t addressed Joey’s injury at all.
“The investigation’s over. Files are wiped. That man is worth every penny, but he did find something odd.”
“Boss, you can’t leave me hanging like that,” Joey growled.
Now was not the time for me to get a chubby, but damn, that voice did something to me. I was so busy thinking about what Joey sounded like when he whispered in the dark that I somehow forgot what the fuck we were even doing.
“Frankie! Frankie! Frankie!” Matteo shouted. “Are you even with us?”
“Sorry, Boss. I got lost in my head for a second. Can you repeat that?”
“Fuck me, are you trying to get us killed?” Joey snapped.
“Settle down, Jojo. I won’t let you die.”
“Don’t call me that, asshole.”
The first time I’d called him that aloud had been an accident. This time was deliberate. At some point in the long, tense drive home, I’d decided I was tired of pretending he wasn’t my Jojo. So, fuck it. He’d get over it. Or not. Either way, my mind was made up.
“Hush. We can fight about it later. I’ll even let you think you won,” I said with a wink. It was only slightly condescending.
“I swear to fucking God, you motherfucking stub—”
“That’s enough,” Matteo barked. “You two can fight, or fuck, later. I don’t give a shit which one you pick. Hell, go wild and do both, but now, I’d very much like to concentrate on my goddamn problems.”
Joey glanced at me and somehow was both chagrined and defiant. He’d never looked sexier.
“Sorry, boss,” Joey said.
I nodded my agreement to the apology, and Mattero accepted it with a curt nod. “You said they came after Conner?” I asked
“Yeah, I keep my client list short, so I’m not sure who’d be brave enough to try and get one over on me.”
Joey glanced at me with eyes that I knew well enough were trying to pass on a message he didn’t want to say in front of Matteo.
“Boss, if you’re good with it, I’m going to help Joey get his stuff out of the car. With his shoulder, he’s even more useless than usual.”
There was no heat in my words, but Joey rolled his eyes at me anyway. Matteo waved us off, and we strode out of the room toward the garage, which, if we were lucky, would be empty.
Neither of us spoke until we reached my car and slid inside. We might fight, but we were in sync when it came to our jobs and places in Matteo’s organization. He depended on us, and we’d catch a bullet for him without thinking twice. And now that included Connor.
“What is it?”
“The boss is right about the client list, but someone knows how important Connor is to him.”
“Yeah, and?” I asked warily.
“What if it’s not about Matteo and the target is really Connor?” Joey answered slowly. The wheels churning in his brain were almost visible.
“His uncle?” I clarified. Joey nodded. “But he’s dead.”
“Yeah, but that asshole had a fuck-ton of associates of his own.”
“You really think someone cares enough about the fucker to get revenge?”
Yeah, even villains had people who wanted them protected, but nothing in the uncle’s background seemed like he was the kind of guy anyone would plot out revenge for.
We both sat in silence while we tried to puzzle out the answer.
Every part of me wanted to feel him, touch his skin, feel his hot breath on my skin, and taste the salt on him.
Now that I was considering it, I probably would process more if I had some inspiration.
Before he could tell me fuck off, I plopped my hand on his muscled thigh.
Joey’s leg jerked like I’d sent a surge of electricity, and I felt the breeze when he whipped his head around to look at me.
What he didn’t do was shove my hand away and tell me to go fuck myself.
Instead, he laced his fingers between mine and returned to his private thoughts.
Here in the darkened cocoon of the car, away from prying eyes or eavesdropping ears, we didn’t have to pretend.
“Connor was farmed out for a debt. If he owed someone enough, they’d be pissed they weren’t gonna get paid. If they take Connor, maybe Matteo would be willing to pay off what he owed them,” Joey drawled slowly. Each word was pulled out of him slowly as he pieced together his thoughts.
“Sam came to us through a recommendation, right?” I asked. Now that Joey had tossed his theory out, something clicked inside of me.
“Yeah. I checked every damn thing about him, but….”
The disgust in his voice probably bothered me more than it should. Everyone knew that no one was more thorough than Joey, and for Sam to slip through was an aberration we hadn’t solved yet.
“I know you did, Joey. That fucker was willing to try his bullshit with Matteo, though, and blame Elio. We thought it was a one-off…”
“But what if it wasn’t?” The realization hit Joey all at once. “What if they are all connected? Connor’s uncle owes someone, they plant Sam to cause a disruption, and…”
“And when Sam gets killed, they try the FBI route, except Matteo shut that down too, which leaves them with what?”
“Going after Connor?”
“Going after Connor.”
Joey still hadn’t pushed me away from him, and I hated that we’d have to leave this car to figure out if we were on the right track.
My thumb absentmindedly rubbed along the ridge of his knuckles.
His breathing slowed, and I glanced at him from the corner of my eye.
He stared down at our hands, and if I didn’t know better, I’d say he almost looked wistful.
After twenty years, maybe it was time to talk about it.