Page 52 of My Daddy Is An Ex-Con

Lazaro takes a menacing step forward. "Tell us your name."

"Jericho."

The silence that screams through the bar is deafening. The boy has an American accent—there’s no doubt about it. The darkness that pervades his words makes it seem like he’s seensome shit.

My Spidey sense tingles. Has this boy been to prison? The disenchanted expression on his face makes it seem like he’s served hard time.

Marcello ticks his eyes down. "Where are you from?"

"New York."

"Forget it," Santino snarls. "You couldn’t handle us, pretty boy."

Jericho’s eyes turn to slits. "Is that a dare?"

I take a sip of my beer. "Anyway, I can’t figure out what to do about Mattie. I’m crazy about him—but am I coming on too strong? Thanks for the help, y’all. You wereverysupportive."

No one’s paying attention to me.

Not. A. Fucking. Soul.

"Y’all," I snap, draining my beer. "I’m talking."

Marcello grips Jericho’s jaw. "Think very carefully about what you say."

Jericho rips free from Jericho’s grasp. "You three are the ones who couldn’t handle me."

My head explodes. What the fuck! No one speaks to my brothers this way.

This is the start of something interesting.

ChapterFourteen

Mattie

"This is really nice. Thank you," I say.

I accept the margarita from Medici’s outstretched hand.

We’re reclining on the patio in the setting sun.

Around us, birds swoop and chirp, dipping through the air as they duck between olive tree branches.

A hummingbird flutters by my ear, then makes a beeline for the dish of honey Nonna left out.

At present, Medici’s brothers and cousins are preparing for tonight’s bonfire.

That’s why we have a spare hour or so to discuss what weneed to.

The conversation won’t be easy.

I’ve never opened up about my kinks in this way.

Most times, Daddies push me away before I get the chance to.

The fact that I’ve gotten this far with Medici makes our discussion that much more difficult—I don't want to fuck up what we have.

"Only the best for you, sunflower." Medici clinks my glass.

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