Page 78 of Savage

Even with the cameras watching.

26

LACHLAN

IT WAS AFTER midnight when I slipped out of bed and quietly got dressed. Cooper didn’t move, dead to the world, and I envied the way he could sleep so hard. I didn’t think I’d ever been able to do that, not since I was a kid. Was it because he felt safe with me? Anyone who actually knew me would laugh at that. I wasn’t the man people ran to; I was the man they ranfrom.

But Cooper hadn’t done that. Not even when I’d been fully covered in the alley. I’d had totellhim to run.

I put my tie on, then left the room before I was tempted to stay. The sheets had fallen down to his hips, giving me an incredible view of his body that made me want to wake him up with my tongue.

Glancing down at my watch, I inwardly cursed and grabbed my suit jacket from the closet. The last thing I needed was a bitch-fest from Alessio for being late, so I made my way underground to meet the others.

They were all waiting in the shadows of the hallway, and when Alessio held up the watch on his wrist, I said, “I know. I’m here.”

“Late. And with bedhead.”

For fuck’s sake.I ran my fingers through my hair as the others, dressed impeccably, led the way through the tunnels beneath the city. Even Alessio, who hated wearing a suit, was wearing one, calling it a respect thing. Same with being on time.

But Alessio didn’t have a hot body in his bed that he’d had to drag himself away from.

He fell back in step with me to bring up the rear and shook his head. “Wearing yesterday’s old suit. You couldn’t dig up a fresh one?”

“Don’t start with me.” I tugged at the cuffs, straightening them. “I look fine.”

“You look like someone who’s been rolling around in the sheets.”

“Well, it’s not like Father Vitale would know that now, would he?Ifthat’s what I’d been doing.”

A frown pulled between Alessio’s brows. “You trying to tell me it’s not?”

“Hey,” Theo called back to us. “You two going to stop gossiping like a couple of high schoolers? Or do you need a minute?”

“Alessio was just reading me the riot act,” I said, and started toward the rest of the group. “You know how it goes—nothing’s ever good enough for the father.”

Shep gave me a once-over and scoffed. “You do look like you just rolled out of bed. What happened? Did you forget you had a meeting to save your soul? I figured if any of us needed to set an alarm clock this month, it would be you.”

“At least I’ve done more to help this city than shake a few clammy palms at the governor’s mansion.”

He smirked. “We all have our strengths. You exterminate rats in alleys. I swim with sharks in ballrooms. Want to swap?”

“Not on your fucking life.”

Shep chuckled and clapped my shoulder. “I figured.”

“Okay, let’s keep moving,” King said, eyeing the rest of us. “We don’t want to keep Father Vitale waiting.”

As we continued through the tunnels and deep into the heart of the city, Alessio and I fell back behind the rest of the guys, a usual position for us when we were making this monthly trek.

The sound of footsteps up ahead was the only other noise this far under the city, and as we moved through the familiar shadows on our way to St. Andrews, I glanced at the man beside me.

Alessio Trentacapelli was, as always, making this trek like he was at the head of a funeral march, the somber expression on his face one of pain and suffering that had nothing to do with death and everything to do with our final destination.

It was ironic, really, considering he was the one who was so adamant we attend monthly confessional to save our souls, yet his seemed to be the truly tortured one, and he wouldn’t set foot in a confessional booth.

“You okay over there?” I said as we rounded a corner. “You stare any harder at the ground and you might cause a sinkhole.”

“I’m fine. I just hate being late.”

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