16. Alek
ALEK
Ican’t help but watch Tommy as he sleeps.
In part because he looks so remarkably peaceful, but also because there’s a part of me that’s worried something is going to happen to him.
I feel like any second someone could come in and try to kill him, both of us.
Maybe someone did see what happened in the alleyway and the news of my undercover gig with the Bianchis is out in the breeze and they’re looking for me.
It’s been almost seven hours, though, so I don’t think my cover has been broken. I would know about it by now. I think.
I’m doubting myself, and I wonder if it has anything to do with the man pressed up against me in the small bed. If my attachment to him is detrimental to doing my job.
No. It makes me better at my job. The way I fought those guys in the alley was quick and efficient. More brutal than usual, though, I realize.
I feel Tommy stir against me and I brush my fingers along his side idly. I haven’t slept in the same bed as someone in years, much less watched as they slept and wondered what they were dreaming about.
Guilt makes my throat tight, but I try to push it down. Maybe she would want me to move on. I don’t feel like move on is quite the right pair of words. How does someone move on from the death of his wife?
Regardless, I’m here right now lying pressed up against Tommy and feeling every single breathe he takes. The fact that he’s still breathing is because of me, and that makes something prideful well up in my chest.
“Are you awake?” I ask him once I notice his eyelids flutter.
Tommy grunts and attempts to roll over onto his back but there’s simply not enough room. I move up until I’m sitting on the bed instead of lying down so that he has a little more room.
“I am now,” he grumbles.
I brush my fingers along his bare hip and back up to his waist again, avoiding the stitched wound that is red and angry.
“How are you feeling?” I tilt my head to the side, my gaze moving up to his face.
He sighs and opens his eyes all the way. “Sore, but alive,” he tells me. “You?”
I purse my lips. “I’m fine.”
Tommy rolls over onto his back to his other side and then reaches out for me. “Come here.” His voice is low and raspy, it causes a shiver to run up my spine and I can’t resist his command. Usually I’m the more dominant one, but in this moment, I don’t care.
I lay back down on my side, facing him, and press my forehead to his. This moment feels softer, more vulnerable, than any moment before. I’m not sure how I feel about it. Anxiety fills me.
Getting attached to this man is a bad idea, and I know it. Letting him see parts of me that no one else gets to, is even worse of an idea.
Despite this, I don’t move. I stay here with him, against his naked body with my clothed one and look into his eyes.
“What are you thinking about?” I ask him after a long moment of silence.
“You,” he admits. “I’m curious about you.”
“What about me?” My voice is just barely above a whisper.
Tommy brushes his fingers along my jawline while he speaks. “Everything. Where you grew up, what your parents were like, why you are the way you are.”
I chuckle weakly. “Those are…loaded subjects,” I say. “Especially that last one.”
“So, tell me,” he insists. “Anything. I’ll listen.”
I hum softly while thinking. “I grew up in Volgograd. My family was very poor. Most of my memories before I was eight are eating potatoes every single night because it’s all we could afford,” I explain.
“What happened when you were eight?” he asks me, seeming to catch on.
I look down at his mouth then his chest as I speak.
“My father discovered the world of hired killers,” I tell him.
“Discovered he didn’t much care how he made his money, as long as he did.
He dragged me into it when a friend of his stole some of his money to pay a gambling debt back.
Put a gun in my hands and told me to end it for him. ”
“Damn,” Tommy whispers. “Did you?”
“Yes,” I say. “He wasn’t alone though, there was a little girl there, about my age, his daughter.”
Tommy’s breath catches in his throat. “What did you do?”
“Whenever anyone asks that I tell them I killed her,” I say.
“What did you really do?” he asks.
“I married her.” My eyes meet his again.
He blinks. “So, that’s how you met your wife…Damn. How did she forgive you for killing her father?”
“She didn’t forgive me, she thanked me. Apparently, the man beat her regularly.
So, killing him saved her. Even if it meant she was on her own after that…
I always looked out for her.” My heart squeezes in my chest and my throat tightens even more.
“I guess in the end it’s true though… I did kill her. ”
Tommy’s hand grips my shoulder. “No, you didn’t, Alek. You couldn’t have known what was going to happen.”
“If I wasn’t involved in this killing shit, had a respectable job, we might’ve lived somewhere nice. Somewhere I wasn’t afraid of getting caught,” I insist. “I wouldn’t have needed to watch my back…and failed at it.”
“From what you told me, they weren’t even after you. You just got caught in the crossfire,” Tommy says, his hand sliding to my neck.
“I still should have known,” I choke out. “I should have…”
Tears lick at the corners of my eyes. Tommy shakes his head.
“Should’ve, could’ve…you didn’t. And it’s not your fault, Aleksandr. The world we live in, the lives we live, it’s dangerous and we never know what is going to happen next.”
I take a slow breath. “I try to know. I still don’t,” I admit. “And I try to kill those who deserve it, but who am I to judge that?”
Tommy chuckles darkly. “Right or wrong depends on the day and who we’re working for, doesn’t it?” he asks. “The Bianchis think they’re doing what’s right, but they couldn’t be more wrong.”
“They’re fucked up is what they are,” I whisper. “But so am I.”
“That’s fine with me,” Tommy tells me.
“Is it?” I press my forehead against his again. “What if I told you I’m not sure I’ll ever get over my wife? Is that something you want to stick around for?”
Tommy’s brow furrows. “She died. She didn’t just leave. I don’t expect you to get over that shit. I’m not exactly the poster child of well adjusted. The first time I killed a man I watched the life bleed from his eyes while my hands were wrapped around his throat, and I liked it.”
I feel his breath against my mouth and brush my lips against his. “I guess we’re both pretty fucked up,” I whisper.
Tommy smirks, and then presses his lips against mine.
“So, you went and got yourself caught up with them anyway, after I told you not to?” Carmine scolds Tommy as we stand in the board room of the Dresvanni estate.
Tommy shoves his hands in his pockets and just stands there, not talking, and not even looking at his brother.
“If it weren’t for me, he would probably be dead,” I add in. “It was a stupid decision.”
Tommy glares at me. For some reason, the fact that he can actually look at me and not his brother makes me smirk.
“Stupid doesn’t fucking cover it,” Carmine hisses.
Tommy growls under his breath. “I know it was a fucked-up decision, okay?” he finally speaks. “I don’t need you to repeat it to me. I have the scars and bruises to prove it. I just thought—”
“You didn’t think, that’s the problem,” Soren insists. He’s standing next to Carmine with his arms folded. “You went in guns blazing because you couldn’t resist.”
“Shut the fuck up; I wasn’t talkin’ to you,” Tommy snaps. “I’m talking to my brother and only my brother. I don’t need your two-cents in the mix.”
Soren glowers and steps closer to Carmine like he’s leaning on him for support.
“Soren is a part of this family; I’m not going to tell you again,” Carmine says.
“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” Tommy replies. “I did think, more than any of you have been. I thought going after them might prove that they’re not interested in talking, because I know they aren’t. All they want is power and money, and we can’t give them all of that.”
“We can give them more money than the Bianchis,” Tiberi adds in from his stance on the left side of the wide table. He looks bored, but he always has from the moment I first saw him.
“Okay, say we give them the money. How long until they decide it isn’t enough and they want more?” Tommy asks. “How long will they wait until they come to us demanding we give them say over our domain and access to all our funds and weapons?”
His eyes dart over to me as if looking for support. I keep my mouth closed for the time being, and look to Carmine, watching his face.
His expression falters. I can tell that he’s taking Tommy’s words seriously.
“I don’t know, but I know if they join the Bianchis they will become even more obnoxious than they already are,” Carmine says. He looks to me. “Is there any chance that we can get them to back off?”
I narrow my eyes before answering. “I don’t think so.”
“See, even he knows it’s not worth it.” Tommy waves an arm at me.
“What about the bomb?” Carmine asks. “You said they were supposed to try to bomb us, that hasn’t happened yet. How do we know the Carvels are truly aligned with the Bianchis?” he asks me.
“Because I saw it with my own two eyes,” I tell him. “The money has already traded hands; the guns likely have too by now. The bomb… I think they’ve changed tactics.”
I glance around the room curiously. “By the way, where is the girl?” I ask.
Carmine sighs. “She’s been taken care of.”
“What girl?” Tommy asks.
“The Bianchi were holding a woman hostage planning on raping and killing her. I got her out of there and brought her here, before I found you,” I explain quickly. “Now, I know damn well what taken care of usually means around here.”
“Cassian took her to the airport two hours ago,” Soren tells us. “She’s safe.”
I sigh. “Good. I went through a lot of trouble to get her out of there. On the bright side, they think I did exactly what they would have done to her. They likely trust me even more than before.”
“If that’s the case then we better get you out of here soon,” Carmine insists.
“Why is that?” I ask.
“Because the Carvels will be here in five minutes to talk,” he tells me.
Tommy clams his fists down on the table. “Goddamnit! Does no one listen to me? You called them over already? While I wasn’t even here?”
“We had to make sure you didn’t already ruin any chances we had of communicating with them. When they agreed to come over, I assumed you must have just went to get drunk rather than fight them,” Carmine says.
“They don’t know about the two guys I killed yet then,” I comment. “Or if they do, they don’t suspect you.”
“But if they see you here, your cover is blown,” Tiberi reminds me.
I huff. “Damnit. My car is out front. If they’re coming from the same way…there’s no time for me to leave.”
“Move your car into the garage and go upstairs to Tommy’s room,” Carmine orders me.
“Why my room?” Tommy asks.
Carmine chuckles. “Please, like we don’t know what’s going on between the two of you,” he tells both of us. “Just get it done.”
I nod my head and look to Tommy one last time before I pull my keys out of my pocket and head for my car. Tommy opens the garage for me, and I pull it in between two other cars.
I can hear tires on the gravel as the garage door is closing.
“You’d better get up there now. Fourth door on the right,” Tommy says as he stands near the doorway.
“Don’t get killed,” I tell him. “If they start something, I am not staying up there.”
“Understood.” He motions me down the hallway to the stairs by the entryway and I head up toward his room.
Just as I’m opening the door and closing it behind me, I hear the front door open and Alessio’s voice greeting the Carvels.
My eyes dart around Tommy’s room, taking in everything that makes him, him. The large bed in the left corner of the room, the dark dresser, the band posters on the walls, the overstuffed bookshelf, and the clothing strewn around the room.
The concentrated smell of Tommaso Dresvanni fills my senses, and I find it relaxes me. I sit down on the end of the bed, and it’s here that I wait.
Wait for something to happen.