Page 32 of Desperately Delicate Viper

I swallow and nod. “Thank you.”

I rummage through the options for a minute and settle on the lone Reuben in the pile. A smile I can’t quite decipher flickers on his lips, and he grabs one of the leftover sandwiches without even reading the label.

I didn’t really expect it to help, but I think Luca really did manage to tame my demons, at least for a little while. The weight that’s been on my chest since I read Finn’s text is lightened, and I couldn’t give less of a fuck about whether my dad is freaking out about me coming home or not. With the ridiculous, campy horror movie playing and the two of us happily devouring our food, I feel surprisingly… peaceful.

“Do I want to know how your meeting this morning went?” I ask once we’re finished eating.

“It went well.” The answer is just vague enough to make my skin prickle.

“Are you going to kill him?” I can barely make myself whisper the question, my heart leaping against my ribcage and I’m not sure whether it’s more out of hope or fear at the idea.

Luca’s jaw ticks. “We’re going to try to get him sent to prison.”

The air rushes out of my lungs and I nod. I think I’m relieved, but I’m still not exactly sure. As horrible as he is, I don’t want him dead, do I?

My thoughts return to Finn and the possibility that he’s going to stay in Wildcliff. Maybe dead isn’t the worst option, if it’s the only way to make sure my brother is safe.

“I lied to you,” I blurt. “I didn’t pawn your watch or spend the money, not yet. I’ve been robbing clients for the past year. Not all of them, obviously, but the ones who looked like they could afford it. I was building up a stash of money so that when Finn graduated, I’d be able to buy a new identity from the Morettis and leave town too.”

Luca studies me quietly while the insane laughter of alien space clowns echoes from the TV in the background. “When does he graduate?”

“In just over two weeks.”

His eyes get steely, and he nods. “I don’t give a fuck about the money or the watch.” He brushes the back of his hand over my cheek, and I lean into his touch. “Is the stash at your place still?”

I shake my head. “It’s in my bag.”

“Good. We’ll pawn the items you have and then open a bank account for you with the money. We need to go get you some new clothes too.”

I frown. “It’s that easy? You’re just going to let me keep the money Istolefrom you?”

He shrugs. “It’s just money.”

“Easy for you to say,” I mutter, gritting my teeth. Luca doesn’t respond, and for a few seconds I just seethe at how simple he makes it sound, like money is meaningless when I’ve spent years doing what I’ve had to for it. I look over at him and he’s watching me instead of the movie, and some of the venom seeps out of me. “I’m sorry. You’re being sweet to me and I’m getting pissy.”

He smirks and cups my jaw. “Get pissy then,” he says with that same simplicity. “I told you I don’t mind. And you have every right to fucking rage right now.”

I scoff. “You’re too good to be true. What’s the catch here?”

Luca snorts and then leans in to whisper in my ear, “I’m a no good, lousy criminal with a body count and a bit of a pain kink.”

I sputter a laugh. “Oh right,that.” I turn my head and kiss his cheek. “I might be able to live with all that.”

My throat tightens again when I realize how it sounds, like I’m planning to stay once everything with my dad is settled, like whatever Luca and I are doing here isreal. Is it fucked up that I kind of want it to be?

Chapter 13

ANDERS

Aknockonthedoor mid-morning makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Luca’s at work, and I can’t think of any reason he would knock if he was coming home early. I’ve been curled up on the couch, drinking coffee and using Luca’s laptop to browse through the university course catalog, indulging in the fantasy of enrolling in some classes at some point. I set my coffee mug and the laptop on the coffee table and get up off the couch slowly, listening hard for any sign of who might be at the door.

Honestly, I don’t know what the fuck I’m expecting to hear. It’s not like whoever it is will be standing outside the door monologuing to themselves about who they are and why they’re here. The twisting sensation in my gut is insistent that somehow my dad figured out I’m here and has come to drag me home. I sent him money again this morning though, so I doubt he gives a fuck where I am, at least for now.

The wood floor creaks under my foot in the entryway. I cringe and freeze. Another sharp knock echoes through theotherwise quiet apartment. I hold my breath and lean in to peek through the peephole, praying that I’m not about to die some horrifying Mafia movie death where the villain on the other side of the door riddles me with bullets from a machine gun.

I don’t see a gun, luckily. The dude standing in the hallway looks like a twinky punk rocker, with messy blond hair, a leather jacket, and ripped jeans. His hands are shoved into his pockets now, and aside from his general don’t-fuck-with-meenergy, he doesn’t look particularly menacing. As if he can hear me on the other side of the door, he looks directly at the peephole. Even though I know he can’t see me, I shrink back.

“Should I have asked Luca for some kind of safeword to let you know it’s okay to open the door? Or does he actually have you tied up in there? Shout if you’re handcuffed to a radiator.” His tone is full of a kind of sarcastic amusement that reminds me of myself… or maybe who I used to be, who Iwantto be.

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