Page 24 of Desperately Delicate Viper

When I finish getting dressed, I look over at Luca and find him watching me with a heated, possessive look in his eyes. It should make me panic. I’m so fucking done with being owned and used and controlled by other people, but for some reason,it feels different with Luca. He says he doesn’t want to crush me into a specific shape or grind all my rough edges smooth, and I think I believe him.

I stop in the living room to find my phone while he heads into the kitchen to start breakfast. My clothes are scattered on the floor and there’s dried cum crusted onto the hardwood. My insides sizzle with the memory of last night, but I push it aside as I pull up Finn’s contact information on my phone and press the button to call.

I pace back and forth, dragging my fingers absently along the back of the black leather couch while I wait for my brother to answer. It takes too damn many rings, but eventually he answers.

“Yeah?” he rasps, clearly still half-asleep.

The breath punches out of my lungs, and I stop pacing to lean against the back of the couch instead.

“Finny, Jesus, how are you feeling?”

“Mm?” he rumbles, and then I hear sheets rustling and a quiet groan. “Like someone parked a truck on top of my skull.”

I let out a relieved laugh. “Yeah, the hangover from a roofie is no fucking joke.”

“Fuck,” he mumbles. “Is that what happened? I barely remember…” There’s rustling and creaking again and then Finn sounds a lot more alert. “Shit, Ands, you didn’tkillsomebody, did you?”

“Of course not,” I say quickly. At least, I don’t think I did. “That fucker would have deserved it if I had though.”

“You can’t…” I can practically see the exasperated way my brother must be rubbing his hand over his face right now. “I told you when we were kids, you can’t do that thing where you go all feral to protect me.”

I grunt noncommittally. He has no idea how far I’ve gone to protect him, and he never will if I can help it. There are veryfew truly good people in this world, but Finn is one of them. Sometimes he’s too sweet, too trusting, too naive—that’s when shit like last night happens. But I’d rather spend the rest of my life jumping in to save him than to have him take off his rose-colored glasses and see the world for the shit heap it really is.

“Ands,” he says with a sigh.

“I love you, and I’m always going to protect you,” I say simply. “Now, go back to sleep and text me later when you feel human again. Plenty of water, aspirin, and greasy food, and you should be feeling better in no time. Do you want me to order you some breakfast?”

“No, I’m fine. Thanks though.”

“Of course. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “And, Anders?” Finn clears his throat. “Thanks.”

“Always.”

LUCA

While Anders calls to check in on his brother, I start coffee and rummage through my refrigerator to see what I have. I’m in need of a trip to the grocery store, but I can do eggs and toast, at least.

My skin tingles with the awareness that Anders is here, in my apartment, letting me cook him breakfast. He might still be baring his teeth like a stray dog who’s not ready to trust me yet, but I can work with that. It’s endearing as hell, actually. But obviously, I’d prefer it if his snarls were sassy and fun instead of due to fear.

After we got cleaned up and climbed into bed last night, I sent Sal a text telling him I need a meeting with the big boss himself, Lorenzo. Anders was right about one thing; I can’t just go waving my gun around to solve every problem, at least not without the green light from on high. I’m going to protect himone way or another though, and it’ll be a hell of a lot easier if I can get Lorenzo’s blessing to take care of the problem.

I look over my shoulder at the sound of Anders’ shuffling footsteps. He pulls out one of the chairs that’s tucked under the small table in the corner of the kitchen and takes a seat.

“How do you take your coffee?” I ask.

“Oh, I can get it.” He starts to stand up again.

“Sit,” I command. Anders raises both eyebrows at me but sinks back down into the seat. “Sorry, but you’ve gotta give me a chance to spoil you a little. How am I supposed to woo you if you get all feisty and independent about something as simple as coffee?”

“I thought you liked me feisty,” he mutters, and I grin.

“Believe me, little viper, I do.” I push the eggs around in the pan and then turn to pour coffee into one of the mugs I set out.

“Black is fine,” he says.

“It’s fine or it’s how you like it?” Something tells me he’s gotten way too used to taking whatever he can get, but that’s going to change. Give me a few weeks and he’ll be just as comfortable demanding everything he wants outside the bedroom as he is inside of it.

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