Page 45 of Desperately Delicate Viper

He turns around to face me, his t-shirt smeared with streaks of blood.

“I don’t give a fuck about the rug.” I finally catch up to answering his question. “And thanks. Do you know what happened?” I glance in the direction of the half bathroom just beyond the living room, itching to go find Anders.

Sparrow shrugs. “Anders took care of the bastard before I got here. I figured I’d do my good deed for the year and deal with this so he could regroup and take care of his brother.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it. I’m sure Anders does too.” It feels like such an oddly formal thing to say about someone cleaning up a dead body for you, but Sparrow just nods and waves off the thanks.

“Go check on your man. Xav should be here any minute to haul this fucker down the stairs and drive him up to the ravine.” He kicks the lumpy carpet for good measure.

I nod in thanks one more time and leave him to finish up. I hesitate outside of the bathroom just long enough to knock.

“Come in.” Anders’s voice is muffled by the door, but the sound of it makes my body tingle like it always does. He sounds calm, even, under control, but it’s possible he hasn’t fully processed the fact that he shot his own father.

I push the door open slowly and peek my head inside. There’s a larger man sitting on the floor near the toilet, his back against the wall, a faraway, haunted look in his eyes, which happen to be the same shade of ice blue as Anders’s. I give him my best sympathetic smile, but I’m not sure he even really sees it through his state of shock.

Anders is standing, leaning against the adjacent wall, his hands in his pockets, his hair falling over his forehead, and his eyebrows scrunched with worry as he looks at his brother. I closethe space between us and pull him into my arms, crushing his body to mine. The warmth of his skin and the familiar weight of him against me instantly steadies the anxious quiver inside of me. He’s tense for a moment, but then he relaxes into me, curling his fingers around my tie and burying his face against my throat. I press my nose into his hair and breathe him in, closing my eyes and just feeling the steady beat of his heart and the measured in and out of his breaths for a few seconds.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here,” I murmur. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’mokay.” He repeats the reassurance a few times, stroking his fingers up and down the back of my neck, every exhale warm and fluttering against my throat. His voice is strong but just a little hollow. If I had to guess, he’s more worried about Finn than processing his own feelings about what just happened right now.

I kiss the top of his head a few times, squeezing him tighter before letting him go, taking his face in my hands, and looking into his eyes.

“You’re the strongest, bravest, most incredible man I’ve ever known, do you know that?” There are more words on my tongue that I’m dying to say to him, but it’s probably not the time with his brother having a breakdown on the floor a foot away and his father’s dead body in the next room.

A small smile appears and he nods, tilting his face up and brushing a quick kiss over my lips.

“This isn’t exactly the introduction I was hoping for,” Anders says, looking past me towards his brother. “But what the hell, we’re all here so why the fuck not. Finn, this is my boyfriend, Luca. Luca, Finn.”

His brother blinks like he’s working his way out of a heavy sleep, and looks around the bathroom for a second before his eyes land on me, focused for the first time.

“Luca Moretti,” Finn says.

I grimace and run a hand over the back of my head. I’m not sure there’s ever a good way to tell your boyfriend’s family that you’re in the Mafia, but this really doesn’t feel like a good first impression. Does he think I turned his brother into a bloodthirsty killer? Does he think I’m no better than their father, grooming Anders just to pimp him out or abuse him later?

My jaw ticks and a thousand defenses and reassurances jump to my lips, but before I can start in on any of them, Finn clambers to his feet and throws his arms around me in a hug.

“Thank you for everything you did for him. You saved him.”

“I—” I glance over at Anders, not sure what to say. A genuine smile turns up the corners of his lips this time, the spark returning to his eyes. I swallow around a lump in my throat, my heart beating furiously with the need to drag Anders away so I can spend the rest of the afternoon kissing him and making sure he’s okay.

“I saved myself, Finny,” Anders says wryly, shooting me a cheeky wink that tells me better than any words could that he really is going to be alright, and this hasn’t scarred him for life. “Luca just reminded me that I’m a predator, not prey.”

ANDERS

Sparrow knocks on the bathroom door and pokes his head in to give us the all clear. He gives me a significant look that I know meansI’m proud of youandcall me if you need to talk, then blows me a kiss and takes off.

Finn is still in a daze, so I don’t push to leave the bathroom right away. Luca comes in and out, adorably concerned about my brother, bringing us mugs of hot cocoa and repeatedly offering Finn the guest bedroom, letting him know he’s welcome to stay here as long as he wants.

The numbness I felt in the middle of everything slowly slips away over the course of the afternoon, leaving me with a jumble of emotions tangled up inside my chest and gut. But, surprisingly, most of them aren’t so bad. Relief and a sense of power overshadow any guilt by a mile, which is more than I’d hoped for.

I hold Finn’s hand and stroke his hair. He peppers me with questions about the last few years on and off, and I answer them all as honestly as I can. With our father gone, all the memories carry less weight, like I’m describing the plot of a movie rather than my own life. The Anders who suffered it all is at the bottom of the ravine, right next to the man who caused all of it. It turns out justified murder is an even better form of therapy than rough sex—go figure.

“I should probably call the leasing offices for all the apartments I was supposed to see today and reschedule,” Finn says absently.

I snort a laugh. “Yes, clearly that’s the top priority. Why don’t you give me a list and I’ll take care of it?”

The color is returning to his cheeks and he’s more lively than he was an hour ago. Even his hands feel less clammy.

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