Page 60 of Petrichor

So, when did the change start in me? The answer seems quite easy.

Merda!

I down another one. Then I grab the bottle the bartender left for me and fill my glass again. This is more like it. Why did I ever stop drinking? Oh right, for the same reason I’m here drinking again.

“How many did you have already?” Luca suddenly appears, sitting on the stool near me. We are at the end of the bar, far from prying eyes. “If you keep guzzling whiskey down tomorrow you’ll look like the grim reaper with a hangover.”

“Not drunk yet.” And I need to be. I pull forcibly at the leather bracelet, watching as red lines appear on my skin.

He sighs. “The Toyota? Was stolen two days ago from a garage in East Village. Strickland is looking into the case. The bullets retrieved from the scene are 9mm, the most popular caliber in the United States. We don’t have much to go on.”

As expected.

“Went to your place. Saw Fly.” Fly…not calling himmy wifeanymore. Ha. “He looked worried, had to stop him from coming here with me.”

That why his texts stopped?

“And he listened? Tell me, how did you succeed? He never does whatever the fuck I order him to. Unless we are doing it.” I sneer. “Did you show him your big cock? He would’ve loved that.” I’ll kill both of them if that’s true.

“Your father should have jerked off instead of fucking the night you were conceived.” Luca shakes his head in disapproval before asking the bartender for a glass. “Why don’t you just kick him out? You had your fun. Put him in a safe house until we clear everything out.”

Let him go? Fuck that! “The only way I’ll do that is in a casket.”

“The booze is making way for this obsessed side of you to come out. Maybe I should have let Fly come here with me, he needs to experience the full emotional psycho traits you keep locked down when you’re sober.”

I huff. “I was in this exact same state when we met the first time. Actually, I had a chick sucking my cock when Fly appeared and told me he’d do a better job.” I can’t stop my lips from curling up at the memory.

Fuck, I want him.

“Cazzo, Marco.” Luca’s gruff laugh dies down quickly. “How can you not see it?” He suddenly hits my shoulder. “Delia was nothing compared to him, and yet you turned into an emotionally stunted freak.” When Luca is determined, he can hit bullseye with his knife or his words.

“I let my family down!”

“She letyoudown! And you paid the price already, thirty stitches on your side and ten years of self-loathing. Isn’t that enough? Open your fucking eyes and stop with the whining. God, when did you become such a little bitch?”

“Vattene a fanculo!”

“I won’t fuck off, asshole. Just like you haven’t every time I was at my lowest.”

Goddammit, is he gonna go all sentimental now? “Then stop with all that psychological crap.”

He finally turns silent, sipping his glass of whiskey. But not for long. “He means something to you. Fly…is different.” Luca never liked Delia. But he doesn’t like women in general—courtesy of his dear mother.

“Different,” I deadpan. “Yeah, he’s a man.”

“Never cared where you stick your dick.”

Why are we having this cringy-ass conversation? Ass. I wish I could be inside Fly’s. He’sgot spunk in spades. And even though he might be working for the Enzinos or the Corettis, I still want to stuff him with more ofmyspunk till he begs me to stop.

“Is him being a man the problem?”

Fuck me. “I don’t fucking care. Not anymore,” I counter. “I had some hesitation in the beginning. I mean, I’ve been straight all my life only to find myself attracted to a guy at thirty-eight.” But despite that, being with Fly never felt weird. It was too fucking good to feel anything else.

Luca’s eyebrows rise, and he looks at me pensively. “It’s like makingsugo.”

“What?”

“You know, making tomato sauce. Some people make it with onion, other people with garlic. Others like to vary, one time they’ll choose onion, and another time garlic. Some don’t care if it’s one or the other, they go beyond the…vegetable. You can even meet people who after years of choosing onion decide to go for garlic.”

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