Page 114 of Sinful Crimes for the Artistically Inclined
“No. Water. Please.” And he gave another very emphatic wretch. Joe hustled Leo and Althea back into the cafe, purchased two bottles of water, and was with Percy seconds later. He found him with his eyes closed, leaning back against the wall, and Joe noted that he did indeed look tired. Thoroughly unwell.
Poor, poor Percy.
And here was Joe, thinking such hideous thoughts about him while he was ill. “Let me take you back.”
Percy swished his mouth out and spat onto the vomit. “You all deserve a holiday. I won’t let this thing get the best of me.”
Sweet, thoughtful Percy. Joe hated himself that much more. “No, it’s been beautiful. Everything has. But please. You’re so sick.”
“No, no.” Percy dropped a smile. “I think I just needed to get that out. I feel much better, actually.” And he went about washing his ejecta down a nearby drain, with only one more small wretch.
They argued for a time, Joe doubling down in his need to care for Percy because of the guilt gnawing away at his insides. Lovely Percy, who was insisting he would sit there uncomplaining and sick all afternoon, while everyone had a good time around him. And all Joe could do was make up hideous scenarios about his beautiful partner.
Joe’s building horror at himself reached its crescendo right about the time Percy pulled a set of keys from his pocket and said, “I told Giordano I wanted to take you somewhere special this evening, so he loaned me his car, but I don’t trust myself to drive. Would you mind?”
And there it was. Percy’s secrecy with Giordano was about nothing more than making a date with Joe. Because Percy, sick to throwing up in the street, was simply amazing.
Meanwhile, Joe, clearly, was the worst boyfriend in history.
He tried one last time. “Please. Let’s just call it off so you can get some sleep.”
“Handsome,” said Percy, straightening himself, “there’s nothing on earth that could stop me spoiling you tonight.” Percy linked an arm through Joe’s and started, slowly, back towards the cafe. Joe’s eyes remained glued to the pavement the entire time, worriedly going over how he might make the disloyalty up to Percy, whether Percy noticed it had happened or not, and therefore he didn’t see the slightly sheepish look his lover threw him as he said, “But please forgive me if I need to disappear again for a little while later on.”
Resigned but adoring, Joe insisted, “Just promise me you’ll take care of yourself.”
“Of course,” said Percy, squeezing Joe’s arm. “I always do.”
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
APERITIVO
Making himself throw up in the street was a low moment for Percy. One of the lowest. Not a sophisticated ruse, by any measure. Not fitting of a gentleman thief at all. Yet, the subsequent hour or so he spent wedged against Joe’s protective, naked chest on the hot sand healed the self-inflicted injury quickly enough. So well, in fact, that by the time he was done arguing with Althea in a high end boutique about her choice of dress, instructing Leo on his trousers, and softly edging Joe towards a different shirt, he was well enough to drive them all to the restaurant.
He chose to park down a dim alleyway, which Joe suggested was maybe not a good idea, given there might be criminals around the place. Percy said he would take his chances for the sake of convenience. The conversation might have gone on, but was ended abruptly when Leo called Percy away for a quiet word. Joe wondered briefly what was so admirable about the knee-high basement window they were both looking at, but didn’t give it too much thought.
What Percy hadn’t said, of course, was that the window belonged to the restroom of the very restaurant they wereattending that evening. A restaurant that was in close proximity to his victim’s apartment.
Leo had also disappeared to a ‘restroom’ for some extended time during the afternoon, sparking fears a stomach bug was passing between them. During that time, he had paid a hefty bribe to the restaurant they didn’t originally plan to attend, and a table had been found at the last minute for around a thousand dollars. It was still one of the best restaurants in Sicily, with a wine list boasting some six-hundred possibilities, therefore Percy was pleased with the change of plans, despite another chunk having to come out of the twenty-five thousand.
Percy intended to suffocate his victim and leave him in his bed, but anything more violent than that and he might have to remove the body, so a close parking location was paramount. The alleyway was perfect. And should the car be missing when they returned? Well, he would say Joe was right all along about the poor choice, and they would taxi home.
On entering, the group was seated in a long, arched, stone room at a table with the whitest white, crispest sort of tablecloth. Percy reassured everyone it was his treat, a celebration, and therefore they would do it all, as many courses as humanly possible, and no one was to mind the price. This nauseated Joe, but he did his best to simply not look at the prices and smile his way through it, between anxious checks of the hue of Percy’s cheeks, which he was pleased, but a little surprised, to see looked totally fine.
Percy got straight to business. “Althea, how do you feel about a flight tomorrow afternoon?”
Panicked looks were exchanged between Althea and Leo, with him shifting a little and asking, “Are we all leaving tomorrow?”
“That’s what we’re deciding right now,” Percy replied.
“Because,” said Althea tentatively, “I was thinking about that thing you said. About, maybe, a job?”
“No,” said Joe.
“She’d be good,” said Leo.
“No,” said Joe.
“How much would it take for you to kill someone?” asked Percy.
