Page 72 of Bound in Blood
Mateo would come back. He always did. But when he did, Marco would make damn sure Logan didn’t have to be the first to break the silence.
Chapter
Twenty-Four
NEW YORK CITY, SEPTEMBER 1950
MARCO
Marco never understood why Jiro insisted upon waiting until right after sex to start fights. They’d get along great all night. Go out, talk to the other vampires they lived with, maybe find a nice human to snack on, and Jiro wouldn’t say a word to suggest he was upset.
Then, in the afterglow of somethinggood,when Marco felt relaxed and sated and, honestly, ready for sleep (even though it wasn’t that late in the evening yet,) Jiro would sit up, stare Marco down with a calculating gaze, and tell him everything he’d been keeping to himself all night. It was taking the fun out of getting off, honestly. How could he finish when he was pretty sure as soon as he was done, his vulnerability would be used against him?
“He’s holding you back, Marco.”
To be fair, Marco had known this conversation was coming. Jiro hated Mateo, and Mateo hated everything and everyone. It was a recipe for disaster, and Marco had been caught in the middle of it all.
Jiro’s voice was smooth and calm, measured in that way of his that always made Marco feel like the fight had been won before it had even started. He exhaled slowly, pressing hisfingers against his temples as if that would somehow stave off the irritation. Marco didn’twantto have this fight. He wanted Jiro and Mateo to get along. Or at least pretend on his behalf.
“I don’t want to do this right now,” Marco muttered, rolling onto his side and tugging the blanket over himself.
Jiro didn’t let up, though. It wasn’t enough thatheknew he was right. He had to hear the verbal confirmation thatMarcounderstood he was right, too.
“Well, whenisa good time to ‘do this,’Marco?” Jiro countered. “Because I’ve been waiting long enough for you to realize this on your own, but youwon’t.So here we are.”
Marco stared at the wall in front of him, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes. He remained quiet, because what the hell do you say when your partner of five and a half years wants you to cut your twin brother off? Sure, Mateo had an anger problem, but could Marco really blame him? He was angry too, he just showed it in different ways.
“I don’t understand why you insist on allowing him to… invade your life. I understand he’s family, but what is he doing for you? Other than rampaging through our home and?—”
“Stop.” Marco’s voice came out more as a plea than a command. He’d heard it his entire life:Mateo was a hothead, Mateo couldn’t keep his mouth shut. Mateo would get them both killed saying the wrong thing one day.
Marco flopped onto his back, and somewhere in the distance, he heard the front door slam shut.Fuck.Of course Mateo had overheard. They shared a wall.
Jiro arched a brow in the most‘See what I mean?’ way Marco had ever seen in his life. He didn’t push further, though. Not yet. Instead, he leaned back against the pillows, watching Marco closely. Probably waiting for some sort of apology. Marco wouldn’t be offering one.
Jiro sighed, dragging a hand through his hair, clearly exasperated. “I love you, Marco. But you know I’m right.”
Marco exhaled slowly, eyes trained on the ceiling. “I know youthinkyou are.”
Jiro’s expression sharpened, and Marco braced for the blow that would inevitably follow. Jiro didn’t start fights he wasn’t absolutely sure he could finish. With Marco, he’d finish them with something unnecessary and cutting. He always went straight for the throat.
“You let him get away witheverything,” Jiro said, voice calm but lethal. “Every outburst. Every reckless decision. You excuse him because he’s your brother, but Marco, when he goes down, hewilltake you with him.”
Marco pressed the heel of his palm to his forehead, trying his best to remain calm. If he yelled, he lost. “He’s all I have.” The words came out desperate. A plea for Jiro, a man who’d immediately cut ties with his family like it was nothing, to understand.
But Jiro just scoffed, shaking his head like Marco was too stupid to realize something obvious. “You haveme.”
Marco felt his stomach twist.Didhe have Jiro? He loved Jiro, of course. Hewantedto have him. But as of late, Jiro’s affections seemed unattainable. Like love was a reward for doing what Marco was told. Marco knew he was a bit inexperienced in the relationship department, but love wasn’t supposed to come with conditions.
Jiro noticed Marco’s hesitation, because of course he did. His smirk thinned into something sharper, crueler. His dark eyes flashed in warning. “You don’t trust me.” An observation, not a question.
Marco swallowed, keeping his expression carefully neutral. “I didn’t say that.”
Jiro tilted his head, studying him like a puzzle piece that didn’t quite fit. “Prove it, then.”
Marco frowned. “How do I prove to you that I trust you?” Hereallydidn’t like where this was going.
He could see thecheckmateflicker across Jiro’s expression. “Cut him off,” he replied, voice silky smooth.
