Chapter 27
I counted out the money from last night's little adventure. Breaking into the house had been pretty easy, stealing secrets that could help my brothers blackmail a senator? Priceless. To be fair, the man was a real piece of shit. I'd seen his paper copies of all the people he'd slept with, and quite a few of them were well below the legal age. So, I didn't feel horrible about taking him down or robbing him blind. It was like I was making a difference in the world.
"What are you doing?" Quincy yawned as he walked into the kitchen, scratching his balls through his boxers.
I had finally convinced him to at least not wander around the kitchen in the nude. All the grease and sharp objects seemed to be good enough reasons to make him slip on boxers before coming out of the bedroom.
"Ugh," I groaned. "Don't scratch your junk in the kitchen. It's gross." I waved a hand at the stove. "I'm cooking breakfast. Just got back."
"Yeah, I know you just got back," he huffed. "It's like you're out every night now."
"True, but I have to make some money." I laid a stack of cash in front of him. "Here, this is for you. Do you think you could take care of the bills today and grab some groceries? I'm exhausted."
The anger that colored Quincy's face was nothing short of hilarious. Okay, maybe I was still getting my revenge on him here and there, but it was really cute when he was so against being my trophy husband. I didn't know why. I thought it was cute that he was home all day, just waiting for me to get back. Besides, it kept him out of trouble.
Quincy shoved the money over the island. "I don't need your money."
I frowned. "Why are you being like this? I want to take care of you."
"I have never been taken care of in my life!" Quincy snapped. "You're doing this on purpose. I swear you are."
Grinning, I left a kiss on his arm. "Just so you know, there's more money waiting if I come home and you're dressed up like a french maid. Bring the little feather duster. I feel like that would add a nice touch."
The growl that left his throat didn't even sound human. I saw it in his eyes, one split second of insanity before he lunged at me. I yelped, nearly tripped over a barstool, and made a beeline for the bedroom. Before I could even get inside all of the way, he battered his big body against it. The gap in the door made my heart thunder. Quincy slammed into it again. My hand slipped on the knob, and I had to make a decision; hold on tight or run for my life.
I ran.
Or at least I tried to.
Quincy snatched me before I made it to the bathroom and tossed me onto the bed. I bounced, laughter pouring out of me as he straddled my body. He panted as he glared down at me.
"Enough of your shit!"
"Why?" I asked. "You've called me baby girl the entire time I've known you. I can't tease you back?"
"Baby girl ain't teasing," he growled. "It's... it's... Just what I call you."
I could swear his face turned a shade redder than it had been before. He glanced away from me, his mouth in a straight, pouting line. I reached up and cupped his cheek.
“Felt like teasing for a long time,” I pointed out.
“Well, it’s not anymore,” he mumbled.
"Your nicknames make me happy. At least someone gives enough of a fuck to give me one."
"So, I gave you your first nickname?"
I smiled. "Yep, first one in a relationship. I mean, you were also the first man to ever let me top. And the first person I've ever fucked without a condom."
Quincy blinked at me. "What?"
I shrugged. "Yeah. I was always the bottom, but you bent over for me one good time and I knew I was never going back." He chuckled. "Especially when you barked out commands while I fucked you. I asked Ash and we researched. Pretty sure you're what's known as a dominant bottom. I can't say I'm mad at that."
Quincy groaned. "Why are you and Ash talking about this?"
"It's fun!" I laughed. "Finally, I have someone to bug with all my crazy questions. I asked Benito and Harlow too, but they had no idea what the actual words were."
The way Quincy looked at me screamed I'm going to kill you. Instead of being afraid, I just smiled at him even more. He could never scare me, not anymore. Yeah, he was a psychotic asshole, but he was my psychotic asshole. And my innocent angel. He was a study in duality, and I would love him every minute of every day for it.
"I'm getting a job," Quincy announced out of nowhere. "I swear I am."
I propped myself up on my elbows as he ground his hips against my lap. "Can the job be riding my dick just like this?"
"No." He pouted. "You make it cheap."
I burst out laughing as he descended on me and smothered my face in kisses. When I couldn't take it anymore, I shoved him off and rolled off the bed, shakily getting to my feet. If he wasn't careful, I was going to have to fuck him again and we’d done that twice before I had to leave for my job the night before. Somehow, I wasn't bored of him yet. And he was far from bored with me.
A knock drew my attention to the door. Groaning, I fixed my hair and clothes.
"Who's that?" Quincy asked.
I shrugged. "No idea." I checked my phone. "No one texted me."
Quincy checked his phone too. "Me either. Damn, I was about to get some good dick."
I rolled my eyes. "You get that all day."
"So what? It's the one thing I never get sick of!" he called after me.
Ignoring him, I walked through our apartment to the door. Quincy had really been trying hard. The pizza boxes had been tossed out, along with a bunch of old newspapers and magazines no one was ever going to read. Bit by bit, he made progress. Every once in a while, I would ask if we could throw away a stack of this or that and he either agreed or said not yet. Whatever his answer was, I always respected it. And I could see the good from doing that. He'd already set himself up a therapy appointment for the next few weeks that was strictly online. Words couldn't describe how proud I was of the man I called my husband.
For a minute, I stared at my ring. It's still weird as hell that I'm married. Another knock dragged me from my thoughts. I looked through the peephole to make sure it wasn't some asshole that was after us, and froze. There, standing in front of my door, wrapped in a black dress with a purse in her hand, was my mother. I ripped the door open so fast that I nearly slammed it into my face.
"Ma," I panted.
Immediately, her face lit up like it was Christmas morning. "Blakey!"
She threw herself into my arms and I wrapped her up tightly. I stumbled backward, dragging her into my apartment before I shut the door. My mother stayed glued to me the entire time, the sound of her crying and her rising and falling shoulders making me feel emotional.
"It's okay," I whispered. "I'm glad you're here."
She pulled back and reached out, cradling both my cheeks. "I'm so glad you're here. And safe. I missed you so much!"
I hugged her so hard I thought she would pop, but I couldn't help it. After all this time, I was with the one person I had spent all my days and nights with. Early morning breakfasts, late night movies, shots in the kitchen at two a.m. when we couldn't sleep with rounds of poker. My mother was everything I aspired to be. How could I not love her?
When she pulled back, she wiped her dark locks out of her face. Her eyes flickered down before a frown took over her face. She snatched up my hand and stared at the ring on my finger.
“I keep forgetting you're married,” she whispered. “How bizarre. Every time I think I’m used to it, I’m thrown all over again.”
Awkwardly, I chewed my lip. "Sorry you couldn’t be there.”
She smiled, patting my hand. “I understand. Still.” She cleared her throat. “It’s hard not to feel a little sad about it. But I’m happy at the end of the day. At least one of us isn’t cynical.”
"Thank you.” I frowned. “Dad told me everything, you know. Why did you lie and say he abandoned me?”
My mother licked her lips. “About that…” She sighed heavily. “What can I say? I did what I thought was best. To protect you. To protect us. Maybe it was wrong, but seeing you almost die because some asshole hated your father? It was a wake-up call. I had to run. I wouldn’t even take his money after that. I know we struggled, but I made the best decision I could.”
I nodded slowly. “You could have told me the truth.”
She laid a hand on my arm. “I tried, so many times, I did. But I was afraid you would go after him. Try to look for him. I never wanted this life for you, but it found you anyway. Maybe I was delusional.”
I couldn’t stand the way her eyes glistened, the threat of tears imminent. Yeah, I was still upset with her for hiding the truth, but after being in the Vitale’s world, I could see why she did it. Thankfully, it wasn’t too late. I could still get to know all of them.
“Forget it,” I said. “We can talk about all this more later.”
“Right,” she said, wiping at her eyes. Once more, she cleared her throat, and the teary eyes were mixed with fiery determination. She crossed her arms over her chest. "Where is this Quincy?"
The sound of my bedroom door closing dragged both me and my mother's attention to it. Quincy walked over swiftly. He'd been wearing next to nothing before, now he was dressed in a pair of dark slacks, a button up black shirt, and dark socks. As soon as he got close to my mother, he dropped to his knees in front of her, pressing his head to the floor.
“私の家へようこそ、モレノさん。私の名前はクインシーです。お会い出来て嬉しいです。私たちが結婚することを自分た ちから伝えなかったことをとても残念に思います。私を許してください。” Welcome to my home, Ms. Moreno. My name is Quincy. It's nice to meet you. I'm so sorry we didn't tell you ourselves that we were getting married. Please, forgive me.
My mother looked at me, and I shrugged even while my heart squeezed. No, I had no idea what he was saying, but... it was sweet.
I knew Quincy. He was a goofball on a good day and didn't give a fuck about anyone on a bad day, but here he was, bowing in front of my mother.
If I could fall anymore in love with him, I would.
Quincy stood up and repeated it all in English for both of us. My mother looked teary-eyed, like she was going to burst out crying again. Slowly, she reached out her hand, and Quincy bowed until his forehead touched her fingertips.
"It's okay," she said softly. "You raise your kids so that they can make their own decisions in life. Am I sad I missed the wedding? Of course. But, I'm so happy you've been protecting my son."
Quincy straightened up and nodded seriously. "And I always will. I love him. Deeply."
"I can tell," she whispered before she wiped her eyes. "All this time, I kept telling Blake and myself that love was bullshit, but look at you two. I've never seen my son so happy."
"Mom." I laughed before I paused. "Wait, how did you know it was Quincy that was looking after me?"
"Besides the note he left, I made a quick stop at Benito's place before I came. Wanted to make sure everything really was all clear and the cops weren't just fucking with me." She glanced around my apartment. "So, this is where you've been."
I nodded with a smile on my face. Quincy looked nervous, like he was going to be sick, but I grabbed his hand.
"Yeah, I've been here. It's cozy."
"Reminds me of our place back home," she mused.
"Right?"
We both laughed and Quincy looked relieved. He had seen my place, he knew how I had lived. A small apartment was the best my mother could do, and it was what I was comfortable with. Maybe one day we would upgrade, but I hardly saw a reason. Especially when we were always at Benito's place. Or Gin's place. Or Paolo's place. And eventually, Enzo's place. Where they were, was home. And where Quincy was, that was my safe space.
"Let's go out to eat," Mom suggested. "Benito is laundering that money for me and selling the jewelry, so it looks like I'm going to be rolling in it for a while." She smirked. "Can't say I'm mad at being well off."
I laughed. "So your bank robbing son isn't so bad now, huh?"
She slapped me upside the head. "You do that shit again and I'll put you in an early grave." I yelped as she grabbed my ear. "Do you understand me, Blake?"
"Ow, come on, Ma!"
Quincy burst out laughing and we both looked his way. He tried to hide his snickering as I glared at him. Slowly, he shrugged.
"I just figured out where you get your sassiness from." He grinned. "Like mother, like son."
"Don't ever compare me to this degenerate," my mother said, sticking her nose up into the air. "You try so hard to raise boys and what do they do? Crime."
"Which one of us was fucking for money?" I muttered. That earned me another smack as Quincy tsked me. "Fine, both of us," I groaned. "I'm sorry. It was a joke, Mom."
“Really? You too?” Quincy asked.
I shrugged. “There’s a lot about me you don’t know.”
“Looks like we’re going to have a lot of talks,” he said, a grin tugging at his lips.
“Wait, what do you mean both of us?” my mother asked, shock written on her face as she interrupted us. “You never told me that.”
I groaned. “Goddamnit.”
“Blakey.”
“Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain. I know. Sorry. Sorry.” I rubbed the back of my head that still stung. Right, she didn’t know a lot about me either. “I’ll tell you everything. One day. I promise.”
After she stared for a while, the uncomfortable silence making me squirm, she smiled softly. “You have a car, Quincy?"
"Yes, ma'am," he answered.
"Good, you can drive. I’m starving. And I want to hear all about how you two met."