Page 12 of His Mafia Sunshine

Yes, I want to scream. Yes, because I love you too fucking much to watch you destroyed by my world, by my sins. Yes, because losing you would be a hell I could never survive.

But I don't say that. I can't say that. Instead, I shrug, the gesture as casual as a blade to the gut. "Them's the breaks, kid. It was fun while it lasted, but it's time to face reality. You and me, we're never going to work. Best we both just cut our losses now."

Asher stares at me, his eyes glassy with tears, his lower lip trembling. For a moment, I think he'll argue, fight for me, for us, with that stubborn, unshakable faith that first drew me to him.

But then his shoulders slump, a shudder rippling through his slender frame. "If that's what you want," he whispers, defeat etched into every line of his face. "If I really mean so little to you, then... then go. Just go, Liam."

You mean everything to me, I want to howl. You're the only good, clean, real thing in my miserable fucking life, and I would burn the world to ash to keep you safe.

But I don't. I can't. So I just nod, once, like I'm accepting a business deal instead of ripping out my own fevered heart. And then I turn and walk out of the diner, out of the warmth and light of Asher's love.

Out of the only hope I've ever fucking known.

The rain has stopped when I step outside, the air cool and heavy with the scent of wet asphalt. I stand there for a long moment, staring blindly into the night, feeling something in me wither and die, turning to dust in the barren cavity of my chest.

And then I get into my car and drive. Not to the penthouse, with its cold opulence and echoing emptiness. Not to Finn's place, where I know he'll take one look at my face and try to pour whiskey and sympathy down my throat.

No, I drive to the only place that makes sense right now. The only place where I can let the poison inside me bleed out in peace.

The Emerald Serpent is nearly empty when I push through the doors, just a few hard-eyed regulars nursing their drinks in silence. I take a stool at the bar, signaling for a bottle of Jameson and a glass.

The bartender, a grizzled old fuck named Mickey, slides them over without a word, his eyes flickering over my face with a kind of weary understanding. He's seen me like this before, raw and flayed open, poisoned by my own demons.

I pour a generous measure of whiskey and toss it back, relishing the burn, the momentary flare of sensation in the numbness consuming me. And then I pour another. And another.

Somewhere around the fourth or fifth drink, Finn slips onto the stool beside me, his face creased with worry. "Liam," he says softly, laying a hand on my arm. "Brother. Talk to me."

I shake my head, staring down into the amber depths of my glass. "Nothing to talk about," I rasp, my voice like gravel. "It's over. Ended it with Asher, just like Declan wanted."

Finn inhales sharply, his fingers tightening on my forearm. "Shit, man. I'm sorry. I know how much he meant to you."

A bitter, broken laugh scrapes my throat raw. "Doesn't matter what he meant to me. What matters is keeping him safe. And the only way to do that is to stay the fuck away from him."

Finn is quiet for a long moment, the music from the jukebox a melancholy wail in the silence between us. "You really think that's the answer?" he asks at last, his voice gentle. "Pushing away the one good thing in your life, the one person who sees past all the bullshit to the real you?"

I close my eyes, Asher's stricken face swimming behind my lids. "The real me is a fucking monster, Finn," I whisper. "A killer. A thug. Asher deserves better than that. Better than me."

"Maybe," Finn says softly. "Or maybe he deserves the chance to make that choice for himself. The chance to love you, darkness and all."

I knock back another shot, the whiskey doing nothing to dull the ache in my chest, the howling void where my heart used to be. "It's too late," I say dully. "I burned that bridge to ash. He'll never forgive me for the things I said, the way I hurt him."

Finn squeezes my arm, his callused palm rough and grounding against my skin. "It's never too late, brother. Not when it's real. Not when it's worth fighting for."

I open my mouth to argue, to tell him he's a naive fucking idiot. But before I can get the words out, my phone buzzes in my pocket, the ringtone shrill and urgent in the hushed bar.

I fumble it out, frowning at the screen. Mia's number flashes across the display, the sight of it sending a cold trickle of dread down my spine.

I answer with a terse "Yeah?", my pulse kicking into overdrive. There's a beat of silence, then Mia's voice comes over the line, high and panicked and laced with tears.

"Liam?" she sobs, the sound like a knife to the gut. "Liam, oh god, it's Asher. He's hurt. There was an attack, these men, they... they..."

The phone cracks in my white-knuckled grip, the world tilting sickeningly on its axis. "Where are you?" I demand, my voice a barely human rasp.

"Mercy Hospital," Mia chokes out. "Liam, please, hurry. It's... it's bad. He's lost so much blood..."

The line goes dead, but I'm already moving, shoving past a startled Finn and out into the night. Panic claws at my throat, horror and guilt a blinding red haze over my vision.

Asher. My sweet, shining boy, broken and bleeding in some sterile hospital bed. Because of me. Because of my sins, my poison, the darkness I brought into his life.

---