Chapter 10
I stared after Quincy as he slammed his way into the bedroom and then the bathroom. For a while, I was able to hold my shoulders back, my head up. Until he was gone. My shoulders dropped as I stared after him.
What the fuck? What did I do wrong?
Once he left, I'd made use of my time cleaning up the apartment. He was the one that told me not to leave and snapped a fucking tracker on my ankle! So, I used the solitude to clean and disinfect every inch of the place.
Finally, you could see where you were walking. You could breathe. There was no dirt on the floor, no dust on the windows, no boxes on the sinking couch. I had even put in an order to replace it all together so he would have something to sit on that wasn't sagging cushions covered in who knows what. At least the money my father gave me would go to something useful.
Turning, I stared at the bedroom door. I hadn't expected his praise, but I also hadn't expected him to be pissed off either. The upturned table and all my hard work littered the floor. I swallowed the ball of emotions in my throat and tried to contain the anger in my chest. Part of me wanted to punch a hole in one of his walls, and the other part of me wanted to punch a hole through his ungrateful, swollen face.
"Fuck!"
This is why you don't do shit. Not for anyone. I should get the hell out of here.
I thought about it for a split second, but where was I supposed to go? Between my father and Quincy, one made me slightly more uncomfortable, and it wasn't the idiot I had screwed last night. My fingers twitched. I was desperate for a smoke, but I'd already used the gift Quincy had left me this morning. Back then, looking at it, I had thought that maybe we could get along. That we could make the best of a bad situation...
Now I knew that wasn't true.
"Double fuck," I swore.
I went into the kitchen and opened the freezer. There were a few bottles inside, most of them half empty. I selected one with whiskey in it and skipped grabbing one of the shot glasses that I'd washed and put away earlier. Instead, I turned the bottle up. Cold liquid coursed down my throat. The cold took my breath away, but the burn was a welcome chaser. When I came up for air, I gasped and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.
Who the fuck does he think he is? What's his problem? I don't give a fuck. Yakuza or not, he doesn't get to treat me like shit and be an asshole.
The more I hyped myself up, the more I wanted to fall back on who I was and kick Quincy's ass. Not that he wasn't already fucked up. The bruises, blood, and cuts said he'd gotten in a serious fight, but he refused to tell me what the hell that was about. Or even speak to me like a normal human being.
"Triple fuck!" I snapped.
I walked into the bedroom, the ice cold bottle still clutched in my hand. When I shoved open the bathroom door, I nearly fell through, surprised that it wasn't locked. The bathroom was steamy as I made my way to the shower, ready to shout at Quincy. I stopped in my tracks as panic raced up my spine.
"Quincy?"
He was on the shower floor, his lips slightly parted as pink water swirled and disappeared down the drain. My anger dissipated just as fast. I dropped the whiskey into the sink. Some part of my brain registered the clinking of breaking glass, but I didn't care. I wrenched the shower door open and quickly grabbed one of the knobs. Hot water stung my skin and I ripped it back, hissing.
"You fucking moron, idiot, asshole!" I shouted. "Why the fuck would you make the water this hot?"
His skin had to be on fire. I panicked, not knowing what to do. Maybe I was wrong, but I flipped on the cold water, hoping that would counteract whatever was happening with him. Quincy groaned as ice cold water hit him, squirming a bit before his eyes fluttered open and closed once more.
"Shit, shit!" I shouted. "If you die, I just know one of your crazy asshole friends is going to kill me!"
My heart raced as I ran into the bedroom and grabbed the phone Quincy had given me. My finger stabbed against the screen entirely too hard as I called Benito. The line rang a few times before there was silence.
"It's me," I said. "Blake."
"Oh, Blake," Benito finally answered. "Thought you were still with our father."
"No, you didn't," I snapped. "I know he's called and told you I disappeared by now. Pretty sure the only reason he hasn't gotten me back is because Quincy hides this place better than I think," I muttered.
"What do?—"
I interrupted him. "Quincy is passed out and bleeding in his shower. I turned the cold water on, but he's barely responding. What the fuck do I do?" I asked, pacing back and forth.
"Quincy's hurt?"
I heard a familiar voice and realized that it was Harlow. There was a moment of chaos before Harlow's voice came in clearly.
"What's wrong with him?"
"Do you think I fucking know? What do I look like, a doctor?"
"Hey, don't get spicy on me motherfucker," Harlow snapped. "Where the hell is he?"
"I told Benito, on the floor!"
The call ended and I stared at the phone as rage rushed to the surface. A shout left my lips as I threw the phone across the room. It crashed into the wall and dropped to the floor. I sucked in a short breath and made my way back to the bathroom. Quincy's eyes were slightly open, but unfocused as he shivered. I quickly shut the water off and crouched beside him.
"Shit, I don't know what to do," I muttered as a lump formed in my throat. "This isn't the kind of thing I'm good at. I mean, I'm not good at most things, but this is way outside of the scope of my normal." I reached out and laid a hand on his chest and then the side of his neck, checking his pulse. "At least you're breathing."
Should I move him? Should I leave him where he was? I had gotten no help from my brother and his husband. I wanted to check the phone, but I also didn't want to leave Quincy. He looked so... vulnerable. When he shivered again, I made up my mind.
"Sorry," I muttered. "But I can't leave you in here like this."
I worked myself into the small space and managed to get his arm over my shoulders. Once Quincy was supported, I lifted. The groan of pain from him accompanied with the popping of my muscles felt like hell, but I was still able to lift him to my surprise. I carried him out of the bathroom, his body weight hanging on me and trying to drag us down. I had no idea why I could move the giant when he felt like a solid brick wall. Maybe it was the way my heart raced that pushed me forward.
Thankfully, we made it to the bedroom in a few steps. I laid him in bed and quickly grabbed his legs before I shoved him inside. Panting, I moved fast to cover him with the blanket and tuck him underneath it. I leaned over, making sure his head was supported. A hand wrapped around my arm making me jump.
"Blake," he whispered.
"I'm right here," I said. "I'll call an ambulance."
"No," he rasped out. "Don't. Just... stay."
The fear in his eyes sent shocks through my body. I stared at him. Was that Quincy talking or the concussion he no doubt had? When I adjusted myself on the bed, his hand wrapped around my wrist, his fingers tightening until I winced. When he saw it, he loosened up a bit, but he didn't let go.
"Okay, I'll stay right here," I said. "You're fine. I mean, you're too much of an asshole to die."
Quincy laughed lightly before his eyes started to flutter closed. "Fuck you."
I smacked him. Quincy's eyes flew open, a gasp on his lips as he stared at me in shock.
"You can't go to sleep. I'm pretty sure you have a concussion and if you go to sleep again..."
"I'm fine," he said. "I'll kick your ass for that later."
"Shut up, gangster boy. That's not so threatening when you take my cock like a champ."
The laugh that spilled from his lips made the knots in my stomach loosen. Oh, he was going to be okay.
Thank God.
"What's taking so long?" I asked as I paced back and forth in the living room.
"Please sit down," Benito growled, his words in complete opposition to his tone.
"On that thing?" I asked, nodding toward the couch. "No fucking thank you."
"Can't blame him. I once sat on Quincy's couch and developed a rash on the back of my thighs," Harlow said, leaning against a wall. "In fact, it might be the same couch," he muttered.
"That's why I tried to clean it!" I exclaimed. "And then he came in and flipped shit, turned on a hot shower, and passed the hell out!"
They had both showed up at Quincy's place less than twenty minutes after I called. I knew Benito had to break several speed limits to get there that quickly, but I didn't give a damn when I saw that they showed up with a doctor. She'd headed right in, her mind only on Quincy. When I tried to join, I was promptly kicked out.
"Stop pacing," Benito said. "You're making me crazy. Come here. Drink this."
I grabbed a shot glass and threw it back before I choked and gagged. What I'd expected was whiskey or something dignified, but instead the taste of J?ger hit my tongue and I nearly doubled over.
"God, he's dramatic," Harlow said.
"I'm starting to question if he's actually a Vitale. Gin and Paolo love this stuff."
"Clearly, he can't hang," Harlow said. "Give me another. I need to calm my nerves."
How the hell they were drinking the shit was beyond me. I groaned as I was finally able to take in a breath that I didn't feel was accompanied by puke, and glared at them both. Benito threw his shot back and stared.
"What?" I grumbled.
"Our dad found you."
"Yeah," I choked out. I stared into the empty shot glass. "There's gotta be something better in the freezer."
"Vodka and some tequila. I wanted something dark but it was broken in the bathroom sink," Benito retorted.
I stiffened. "That's not my fault! He was passed out in the shower."
"Shut up and have another J?ger."
God, I really didn't want to, but I also couldn't pass it up. My nerves were on fire. I glanced at the bedroom and frowned. The doctor they had introduced me to, Melony, seemed like she knew what she was doing from the way she walked into the apartment and commanded it as if she lived there, but I still didn't trust her. Or any doctor for that matter. They were terrifying, with needles, scalpels, and their bullshit. Getting tested every year was good enough for me.
I took my shot, throwing it back before I slammed the glass on the counter. Benito stared at me, that soulless look that forced a shiver down my spine. I didn't know how the fuck he was married. Every time I saw his face, it looked as if he was ready to kill someone.
"So, you ran from Cesare," he said again.
"I already said yes."
"And you came back here."
I stiffened. "Yeah."
"Why?"
I tried to wrack my brain to figure out the reasoning behind my fleeing, but there was none. The man was a brute, a bit of an asshole, but he had gone out of his way to make sure I was comfortable, dressed, and fed. As far as he showed me, he was okay. I still had a chip after the way he'd left, but he was nice enough.
And yet I still couldn't shake the unease that threatened to swallow me whole when I was around him.
"I just... like it better here."
"He's still looking for you," Benito said.
"No shit," Harlow muttered, his eyes firmly locked on the bedroom door. "Like that crypt keeper motherfucker was ever going to let you out of his sight."
"Enough," Benito growled.
Harlow finally glanced in our direction. "Don't protect that bastard."
"I'm not."
"You are."
The awkwardness from them filled the space until I snatched the bottle and poured myself another shot. Once I took it, I burped and glanced between them. "Okay, why don't you like him?" I asked Harlow.
"He's an asshole, he's cruel, he bosses Benito around like he's his trained pet," he said, ticking off each reason on his fingers.
"Watch it," Benito snapped.
"He has children and abandons them. Did I mention he's an asshole?"
"Yes," I said.
"Well, let me say it again. He's a massive, crappy, sadistic, asshole. I know the type," he muttered. "What the hell is taking Melony so long?"
I stiffened. "You're really that concerned about Quincy?"
Harlow spun on me. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
I stared at him and shrugged. Whatever was going on between them, it didn't make sense to bring it up in front of Benito. Maybe they had something or maybe it was only one-sided on Quincy's part, but it didn't matter. It would just cause drama. And while I’d love to watch the shit show unfold, that seemed like a horrible idea when I was living in the middle of it.
My gaze flickered to Benito. "I need you to get me out of going back to his place," I said. "Put me to work, give me something to do, but I don't want to go back. It feels... wrong. I need a place to escape for a while, but with him is not it. Besides, if I left Quincy on his own tonight, he would probably be dead."
Benito nodded as he looked me up, down and back again. "And what exactly are you running from?"
"A bad past," I answered. "That's all anyone needs to know."
The more I talked, the more my shit would be out there. I knew how people were. They could appear nice, but they could also turn and snap on you. What relationship you once thought was kind and supportive, could be toxic sludge. I'd had enough of people stabbing me in the spine.
Benito finally sighed. "Fine, I'll figure it out. Don’t worry, I can definitely find you some work."
"All right. Deal."
We clinked our glasses together and it felt like a connection had been forged. I was still unsure about my brothers, and the other three were a complete mystery, but it was starting to feel like I had someone in my corner. Even if I was still cautious as hell about it.
"Okay," Melony said as she walked out of the room and hiked her bag up over her shoulder. "Quincy is stable. Yes, he has a concussion and a few of the cuts he received were very deep. I've stitched them and stopped the bleeding, but he's going to be weak for the next week or so. He needs around the clock monitoring, pain meds, antibiotics, and a sedative to keep him calm." She sighed. "I've treated him before and he's a nightmare. The minute he can get up, he will. Even if it means he'll kill himself."
Harlow swore. "Shit, I'll take care of him."
I stood up from the barstool I'd plopped down on. "No, I've got it." When Harlow turned on me, I swallowed hard. "You have a baby to take care of and stuff. I'm already here, so I can do it."
His eyes narrowed as he took a step toward me. "What the hell do you know about him? I've helped him after a thousand situations like this before, I can do it again. You have no clue what it's like to deal with those fucking jackals that?—"
As Harlow sucked in a breath, Benito laid a hand on his shoulder. He squeezed, and I watched as Harlow sagged against him.
Clearly, he knows what's going on and I'm left in the dark.
"Do you really think that will help right now?" I found myself biting out. "All it's going to do is give him false hope that you actually give a fuck about him. We both know he's in love with you. Shit, I'm sure everyone knows!"
Harlow's jaw dropped, and I took a step back on instinct as he moved forward. Benito snatched him up, pressing Harlow's back against his chest. As the long-haired male glared at me, I swallowed hard and wished I had taken a few hundred more shots. Being dead from that was probably better than being murdered by my brother's husband.
"Well, whoever decides to step up needs to take it seriously," Melony said as she moved over and sat pill bottles on the counter. "Pain, sedative, antibiotic. I've written the instructions down here," she said as she laid a piece of paper under them. "He's a little upset and that leads to more distress, so just keep with the medicine routine, okay?" She glanced around. "He'll be okay. That much I can promise you."
"Thank you," Benito said. "I'll send over the payment."
She nodded. "Add on the additional fee for the late night aspect of it all." She groaned. "I have a girlfriend now. And if Chelsea finds out I slipped out of bed, she's going to be so fucking mean for the next few days. You have no idea what lesbian rage looks like. Hint, it's not pretty. Also it's very passive-aggressive."
"No one told you to make her yours," Benito teased.
"Fuck you! I'd do it all over again. But the silent treatments and scooting over just out of reach in bed can really get to you..."
Benito walked her out as I stared at the note and the meds. At least she had written out clear instructions. I felt eyes boring into the side of my head and finally I couldn't help but to look at Harlow.
"What was that shit?" he hissed. "Quincy isn't in love with me anymore."
I raised a brow. "Yeah, and he's also not broke, depressed, and out of control. What do I know? I only see him go through the shit even when he doesn't think I do. Go look at the broken bathroom mirror and tell me he’s okay. Pretty sure he’s why we don’t have one anymore.”
Harlow's lips parted before he snapped them shut again. Benito returned and wrapped a hand around Harlow's arm.
"We need to get going. Gianpaolo is watching our baby, but he has kids of his own to get back to. He's texted me that about ten times." He sighed. "If you need anything, call me."
"My phone is broken," I muttered. "The one Quincy gave me. I ditched the one Cesare bought."
"Good, you're smarter than you look." He pulled out his phone and texted before he put it away again. "Someone will bring you one within the next hour, so don't go to bed. Keep it close to you."
"Yeah," I said with a nod. "Okay."
Benito slammed his big hand onto my shoulder. "If Melony said he's going to be okay, then he will. Okay?"
"Yeah, sure."
"And you owe me for her visit. So your first job is free," he said, a grin on his face. "Welcome to the family, little brother."
I wanted to object, but there was no time as he escorted his husband out of the apartment. Harlow returned before I could lock the door.
"Oh," Harlow said, digging in his heels. "Don't clean up anymore, okay? He needs his… junk. It helps him breathe."
I frowned. "Why?"
Harlow returned my frown. "Quincy is complicated. Don't take away his comfort too quickly. Even if he needs it." He sighed. "This is the cleanest it’s ever been, and I’m sure that’s good. But, he’s not ready for it.”
"Let's go," Benito said.
Once the apartment was empty, I sighed and walked back into the bedroom. Quincy was out, his lips parted as he shifted and groaned. I made my way to his side before I reached down and touched his cheek. He was so battered and bruised, it was going to be horrible tomorrow.
"I'm sorry I cleaned up," I muttered. "Part of me thought you would like it. Or maybe I just wanted you to. As usual, I can't do shit right." I laughed. "I'm glad you're asleep."
I removed my hand from his face and circled the bed. Tomorrow, I would have to get up early, make him food, feed him his meds, and make sure he hydrated as the note said. It seemed like I was going to be busy for a while, but for some reason, I didn't mind. I climbed into bed next to Quincy. The minute I was comfortable, he flipped over and wrapped his arm around me.
My breathing stuck in my chest. I didn't dare squirm as his lips moved against my ear. At first, I couldn’t make out what he said. And then I heard it.
“Blake,” he muttered.
"Still here," I answered, staring at the far wall and wondering why I hadn't left yet as his arm tightened around my midsection. "Still here."