Page 37 of Desperately Delicate Viper

Sparrow steals Anders from me to pull him into a quick hug. “You better call me. We’re besties now, whether you like it or not.”

Anders chuckles. “Murder is a bonding experience.”

“It really is,” he agrees vehemently, then lets Anders go and saunters over to link his hand with Xaviaro’s.

“I think there’s a coffee shop right across the street. Why don’t you go get something to drink and I’ll pull around and pick you up once I’ve got this taken care of.” I nod towards the body.

Anders looks at it, then back at me, and shakes his head. “No, that’s okay. I can handle it.”

I arch an eyebrow, but I’m not going to argue. If he wants to help, he can help. Anders has had enough people in his life take his autonomy away already.

I pop open my trunk and pull out the roll of garbage bags I keep on hand for occasions just like this. It’s not the first time I’ve gotten the call to get rid of a body, usually courtesy of Xaviaro himself. He doesn’t flinch at pulling the trigger, but the rumor is he hates cleanup. It’s not exactly my favorite activity either, but I’m not high enough in the Moretti chain of command to bitch about it. Maybe one day.

Anders helps me wrap the body up so it won’t leak all over the inside of my trunk. Then he grabs the legs while I grab the front end, and we heave it inside.

“Hold on,” Anders says before I shut the trunk. He rummages through his shopping bag, pulling out a t-shirt and pair of jeans, then strips out of the oversized clothes he’s wearing, right there in the alley. “They got some blood on them,” he explains, balling them up and stuffing them into another trash bag, then cinching it and tossing it into the trunk with our dead friend.

“By all means, take your time,” I tease, closing the trunk and leaning against it to enjoy the view with a smirk.

He snorts and starts to dress in his fresh clothes. There’s something different about the way he’s holding himself now. The confidence I saw in his eyes is seeping into every part of him, making him hold his head just a little bit higher and move just a little more fluidly. Even the smile twisting his lips looks less forced than any of them have up until now. He runs his fingers through his hair to tame it once he’s dressed and then meets my gaze.

My cock plumps lazily and I lick my lips.

“You look fucking hot,” I tell him.

He chuckles. “Do you mean in my new clothes? Or was it the flecks of blood doing it for you?”

I reach out and tug him in close. He braces his hands on my chest and tilts his head to keep his eyes on mine.

“It’s the ‘I’ll fucking cut you’ energy, little viper,” I purr, and he claims my lips in a hard kiss.

ANDERS

Luca joked last night that leaving bruises on him would be better than therapy, and he wasn’t completely wrong. But I think in a fucked up way, what happened today was the kind of catharsis I needed.

We leave the city behind and I can hear the thud of the body in the trunk shifting as Luca takes a sharp left turn onto a hidden side road.

“You said you’re working on getting my dad sent to prison. Do you think that will work?”

He glances over at me as we bump along a gravel road that leads up the side of a towering hill, trees on either side of us obscuring the late afternoon sun.

“Honestly, I don’t know. I’m betting he’s done plenty of illegal shit, but I’m not convinced that any of it will be worth more than a short stint behind bars. Unless Sparrow can find kiddie pics on his computer or you know of anyone he’s offed and can get proof, I think it’s only a short-term solution.”

I swallow around the acid building in the back of my throat. “Finn texted me yesterday that he might not leave Wildcliff at all. Short-term isn’t enough.”

Luca’s nostrils flare and he grunts. “I promise you don’t need to worry. I told you I’m going to keep you safe, and I mean it.”

The crazy thing is, I think I believe him. Actually, I know I do. Luca has kept every promise so far, he’s passed every testI’ve unintentionally given him, he’s been exactly who he’s said he would be. I reach over and put my hand on his thigh, warming inside from the small amount of connection and the way he presses up into my touch like he needs it as much as I do.

“I think we should just kill him.”

He chuckles. “One afternoon with Sparrow and you’re positively bloodthirsty.”

“He reminded me of who I used to be. Not the murder exactly, but the rest of it. I’m done being docile. You and Sparrow reminded me that I have fangs, and I’m going to use them from now on.”

Luca groans and reaches between his legs. “You’ve never been sexier. Do you know that?”

I believe him when he says that, too. He doesn’t just want the easy, quiet, agreeable parts of me, he wants all of me.

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