Chapter Eighteen
Shai
I don’t know how I didn’t wake up when Rory came over last night because the second my bedroom door opens the next morning, I’m on alert. Rory and I are still naked in bed together, the blanket around me, his body on display.
“Hey, sweetheart!” Mom says, and I immediately tug the comforter over Rory’s dick so she can’t see it.
“Jesus, Mom. You can’t fucking knock?”
“Oh. I didn’t realize you had company,” she says, and while there’s a chance she doesn’t remember Rory coming over last night, it’s more likely that she does, and that the whole reason she’s in here right now is because she knows he’s with me.
It’s not him specifically she wants attention from; she just likes to have attention from anyone, and she wants to be a part of everything.
She’s always the loudest person at a party.
She likes to have my attention too, but only when it suits her.
If there’s a guy around, drugs to do, money to gamble, then I don’t matter, but when she’s feeling alone or neglected, she always comes to me.
“Well, I do,” I say.
Rory stirs beside me, cracking one eye open. “We’re sleeping, in case you didn’t notice,” he tells her.
“I was going to make breakfast.”
I can’t remember the last time my mom cooked breakfast for me. She’s not offering it for me now, though, she’s offering for Rory. I hate thinking about my own mom this way, but I’ve lived enough life with her to know exactly what’s going on here.
“We’re leaving soon,” he says.
We?
“Oh… Where are you going? When will you be back? Do you know anywhere I can get some coke?”
My fucking mom, ladies and gentlemen.
Rory cocks a brow at her. “He’s going home with me. I can maybe get you something later.”
Um…what the fuck. I don’t remember agreeing to go home with him. We’ll need to have a discussion about the way he makes decisions for me. And he’s absolutely not bringing her drugs.
She turns her attention to me. “When are you coming home, Shai? You’re already gone so much for work, and I’m here all by myself. It’s not fair.”
Fair? Not fucking fair? What is she even talking about? “You can always get a job too,” I tell her.
“That’s not what I mean,” she replies.
Of course not.
Rory’s arm slides beneath me, wraps around me, his hand tangling in my messy hair.
“He’s going home with me alone,” Rory says with a finality even she doesn’t argue with.
“Fine. Just leave me alone again like you always do.” The door slams behind her, and I force myself not to get out of bed and attempt to fix it. Why do I always feel like I need to fix everything for her?
Rory rolls on top of me, grabs my arms, holding them against the mattress to pin me down. He looks wild and frazzled, like he’s pissed, but maybe turned on too. “She is not your responsibility.”
But she is and always will be.
“I didn’t say I was going home with you.”
“You are.” He bites my bottom lip, a sharp, burning pain stinging where his teeth bit in, but all it does is make my dick throb, my morning wood changing into something else.
Still, I make myself say, “I might be your pet in some ways, but not all of them.”
“Are you telling me you’re not going home with me?” he asks, rolling his hips, his erection caressing mine.
Pleasure shoots up my spine, and I have to fight myself not to let my eyes roll back.
“That’s what I thought. You’re allowed to have a life too.”
“Her whole life has been me.”
He frowns. “Has it? She kept you, yes, but has her whole life been about you?”
I turn my head, not having it in me to answer that.
Rory surprises me by leaning down more slowly this time, his tongue swiping at the spot he’d bitten. “You’re bleeding.”
“Did you literally just lick my blood?” I ask, and he shrugs before rolling off me.
“Bring clothes for a few days.” His stomach growls. “Fuck, I’m hungry.”
“We can eat here.”
“No, I just want to go.”
“You don’t think Cillian will be pissed if we decide to…what? Have a sleepover?”
“I know Cillian will be pissed. Tiernan too, which is who we really need to worry about, but I’m doing it anyway.”
And that…does something to me, hits something inside me, finds little nooks and crannies I didn’t know were there.
Rory is risking an argument with the people he loves most in the world because he wants to be around me.
He woke up, and the first thought on his mind was about me, taking me home with him.
No one has ever wanted me like that, no one has ever thought of me the way he does—even the shit with my mom.
I can feel him biting back what he wants to say to her, because of me, and fuck, does it feel good to have someone crave me that way.
“You can trust me,” I tell him. “They can trust me.”
He grabs his underwear off the floor, watching me as he pulls them on. “Good. I don’t want to have to kill you.”
But he would. Another thing that should make me walk away, but I won’t. It doesn’t even make me want to. I respect that Rory would do whatever is necessary to keep his family safe.
“I wouldn’t make it easy on you,” I tease.
“I know, but I’m good. No offense, pet, but if I didn’t want you to, you wouldn’t even see me coming.” He tugs his pants on next. “Bring your guitar, or whatever else valuable you have. If she sells your shit, I won’t be happy.”
Yeah, well, that makes two of us.
I get out of bed and get dressed. Rory follows me to the bathroom, taking a piss while I brush my teeth. It feels like something couples do, and when I’m done and go to take a piss, he surprises me by picking up my toothbrush and using it.
“That’s gross.”
“You’ve had your tongue in my mouth and on my cock. It’s going to be in my asshole. I can use your toothbrush.”
He has a point.
We head back to my room, and I pack a few days’ worth of clothes, my toiletries, and grab my guitar. It’s already noon, Rory and I having slept in after being up so late last night. “Are we taking my car?”
“Do you want to leave it here for your mom?”
I hesitate. Giving her transportation isn’t smart, but I don’t want her stuck here for days either. “Yeah.”
“Bunny only had morning classes today. I’ll have him come and get us. My car is at home.”
He calls Ollie, and then we wait in the living room. The room is full of smoke, Mom with a cigarette in her hand, sitting in the corner of the couch.
“Are you really leaving me?” she asks, her eyes glassy.
My heart squeezes. “Not forever. Jesus, Mom. You’re the one who said I need friends. I’m trying to have friends.”
Rory’s leaning against the wall, watching us, arms crossed. I try to ignore him as I sit beside her, run my fingers through her hair, then cup her cheek. “I’ll never leave you. It’s you and me, remember?” It always has been and always will be.
I know her behavior and our relationship isn’t normal, but it’s all I know. It’s all she does too. Imagine growing up with addicted parents, being on your own since fourteen and pregnant at fifteen. She hasn’t had it easy.
Mom sniffles and nods. “Okay. Sorry.”
I hug her. “It’s fine.” I hate that I almost tell Rory I can’t go, that the guilt is mounting inside me over the fact that I’m leaving. I’m twenty-two years old. She can’t be my whole fucking life.
“Ollie is here,” Rory says. I get off the couch and pull my bag over my shoulder. Rory grabs my guitar. “Thank you, Kat. I want him, but I won’t take him away from you.”
It’s one thing to hear Rory say I want you when he’s speaking to me but something else entirely to hear him tell my mom that. Who does that anyway? Who says I want him to someone’s parent? But it’s not even one of the most outrageous things Rory has said, and I like it…being wanted by him.
She nods, and as Rory walks out, I tell her I’m leaving the car keys for her. “Don’t do anything to get us in trouble…please.”
“I won’t. I’m not a child.”
No, she’s not, but she often acts like it.
I head out after Rory and see a BMW in the driveway. Rory puts my guitar in the trunk, then opens the back door. I frown as he signals for me to get in.
“Are you opening the door for me?”
“Do your eyes suddenly not work? Get in the fucking car, Shai. I’m annoyed.”
Not at me, though. I know exactly whom he’s pissed at.
I climb in, and he closes the door before getting into the front seat. Ollie looks back and forth between us, his gaze eventually landing on Rory. “I thought I was just picking you up.” He throws me an apologetic look.
I shrug because I get it.
“You said you wanted to invite him over,” Rory grumbles.
“Yeah, but…does Tiernan know?”
“This won’t come down on you.”
“I’m not worried about me,” Ollie argues.
“Wait, are you really gonna get in trouble for this?” I ask.
“It’s fine,” Rory tells me. “I want you, and you’re coming.”
Ollie smiles, this bright, wide…incongruous smile. “Okay…” he says, “then it’ll have to be fine.”
“Exactly.”
He starts the car and goes down the driveway, one hand shooting out and playfully swatting Rory’s arm.
“Hey, what was that for? You’re supposed to be the sweet one.” Rory grins at him, and something twists in my gut. It’s not jealousy…exactly. I don’t care that he smiles at Ollie that way. I just…fuck, I think I want Rory to smile at me that way too.
“Why didn’t you go to school this morning?” Ollie scolds.
“I was tired from yesterday! We did…stuff in Boston, and then Shai kept me up all night.”
“Hey, don’t blame me. If I knew you had school, I could have set an alarm.” But I also don’t really get why he has to go to classes. “Mafia heirs go to college? Don’t you have like, a lot of money and a built-in career?”
“That’s what I’m saying!” Rory throws his hands up.
“He should go because education is important, and there’s nothing wrong with a backup plan or accomplishing a goal that has nothing to do with—wait, he knows about the mini mob?”
A laugh tumbles from my mouth. “You’re called the mini mob?”
“No, we fucking aren’t. Only Ollie calls us that. If you say it, I’ll cut out your tongue.” I roll my eyes, but Rory continues, telling Ollie, “Didn’t Cil make it obvious we’re not quite like everyone else when he pissed all over your leg at the Pizza Palace?”
Ollie blushes. “He didn’t pee on my leg.”
“Shai doesn’t know anything that everyone doesn’t know.”
“Fine. Back to the school discussion. I think you’ll feel really good about yourself if you get your degree, Rory. I know you don’t think so, but you can do it, and I want you to see you can do it.”
Rory looks over his shoulder at me. “He’s too sweet for us.”
“Ugh. It has nothing to do with being sweet. I just care about you.”
Rory sighs. “I know.”
And it’s clear he does, that both of them do. A pang of longing lands in my chest.
“What about you?” Ollie pushes his glasses up his nose. “What are your plans for the future?”
“Um…we’re supposed to have those?” I ask, making Rory laugh.
“See why he’s my pet?”
“I do. Guess I’ll have to straighten him out too.”
“There’s no straightening me out,” I joke. “Gay as they come.”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
“Well, when it comes to futures, I don’t have one. I didn’t even graduate high school.”
His eyes meet mine in the rearview, sorrow in them. “I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t offend you.”
“I’m fine. It doesn’t bother me.” Though it kinda does.
Ollie cutely continues to give us a pep talk about our futures and hard work paying off, and it’s interesting to see how Rory interacts with him. How much softer he is with Ollie than with anyone else. There are so many shades to this man, so many bits and pieces of him I didn’t expect.
It doesn’t take long before Ollie is pulling down a driveway, only the house at the end looks nothing like mine. It’s fucking huge—all white, nestled in the trees, and way too fancy for someone like me.
The front door opens when we pull up, and Cillian comes out.
“He’s worried,” Ollie says.
“About Shai being here?”
“No. I didn’t text him to tell him about that. Just about you.”
What is there to worry about when it comes to Rory? He seems fine to me.
“Did you also yell at him about going to class?” Rory asks.
“No. He went. We both did.”
Rory and Ollie step out of the car as Cillian walks over. “You good?” I hear him ask before I open the door, and his gaze snaps to me, blue eyes blazing with distrust. “What the fuck is he doing here?” Cillian asks.
“I brought him,” Rory answers.
“No shit. Did you talk to T?” Cillian eyes me while speaking to Rory.
“I will,” Rory answers, then gets my guitar from the trunk.
“Good to see you again too,” I tell Cillian, and Rory laughs while Ollie groans.
Ollie laces his fingers together with Cillian’s, the other man clearly seething but trying to control himself.
With my guitar in hand, Rory walks straight over to Cillian, grabs the back of his head, and presses their foreheads together. “I’m fine. I want him. It’s not a big deal.”
My pulse races in a way I can’t decipher.
“Fine,” Cillian replies. He’s a dick. There’s no denying that, but I can’t say that his devotion—to Rory, to Ollie, hell, probably to their whole crew—isn’t sewn into everything he does or says.
“Let’s go, pet.”
“On my way, Cherry,” I reply, making sure to use my nickname for him as well.
Ollie grins, then wraps his arms around Cillian, who stands there, watching us, like we’re an equation he can’t solve.
That’s one thing he and I have in common. I don’t know what this is with Rory either. I just know I want it. I so rarely get what I want in my life, and I’m not walking away from this until I have to.