Page 29 of Surrender

Cresci bursts out laughing. “Yeah, I know you can handle yourself in a fight. Fuck, I still sometimes think about how you looked with your fists all bloody. Did that kid even survive?”

I can’t help but smirk. “Never got rid of that limp, but yeah, he survived. He shouldn’t have fucked up like he did.” I shake my head, thinking back to the first time I’d caught Cresci’s attention. I was just dealing with one of the wannabe associates who’d fucked up, and maybe I used more violence than I needed to…

Eh, the guy’s lucky he survived. And Cresci had “liked my style.”

“Anyway. Silvano’s not the only one who isn’t a fan of that corpse smell,” I say with a chuckle. “It’ll be fine. Retire when you’re ready, and I’ll be here to make sure the transition of power goes smoothly.”

“The corpse hasn’t even begun to cool! There’s no smell!” Cresci mumbles. “We’ll see, though. You can leave. Send Enzo back in so he gets rid of Dan before he does start to stink.”

“Will do,” I tell him, bowing my head to him.

I leave the house, but my thoughts keep going back to that strange exchange. Do I think Silvano’s fit to take over? Of course I do. He’s earned his place as the underboss, and I don’t think he’s a weakling who will have to fight to prove himself.

But the words bother me all the same.

* * *

Fox is lying across the sofa on his stomach, watching another home renovation show. He hadn’t bothered to put on a shirt, so the bandages are visible on his back.

There’s a part of me that’s surprised he’s still here. I half-expected him to disappear—then to turn around one day and find myself at the gates of hell. Briar certainly was not kind when they’d sent messages to me about how I’d let “that assassin” wander the house while I’d been gone.

“How far over budget are they so far?” I ask by way of greeting as I take off my suit jacket and hang it up in the hallway closet.

“Only five grand so far,” Fox says. “They found a leak in the basement plumbing that had to get fixed or else the entire foundation would crumble.”

“They’ll find at least another twenty k worth of necessary repairs,” I predict. “As a result of how many years the leak’s been there.” I go to sit next to him, and without thinking about it, I run a hand through his soft hair. “Chased Briar off, I see.”

Fox leans into my touch. “Yeah, well, I don’t need one of your other conquests hovering around me,” he mumbles.

“Conquests.” I roll my eyes. “I don’t conquer the help.” I chuckle, able to picture Briar’s mouth opening in an ‘o’ of indignation at being called the help. “I haven’t had more than a quick fuck in at least five years.”

Why am I telling Fox this? It’s none of his business, and it’s more information he can use against me.

“What about you?” I ask before he can press. “Do you always fuck your marks?”

“Just one time.” Fox cranes his head to look up at me. “Funny enough, most people I’m hired to kill just aren’t into twinks.” He laughs, even though it’s somewhat humorless, and I hate how cute he looks even with a brittle smile. “The guy was so fucking confused when I pulled the gun out and shoved it in his mouth. It wasn’t like he was willing to use his mouth for other things.”

“Hmm. Would you have let him blow you before you killed him, little fox?” I ask. He’s a little sociopath, all right, and I’m wondering just how far that goes. No wonder Briar didn’t want to stick around.

Fox purses his lips thoughtfully. “I dunno. I was already running late, and I wasn’t convinced he’d have been any good. It was just the easiest way to get close to him. Maybe if I’d known you were into the cute boys, I’d have seduced you too, Daddy.”

“Good thing I don’t let cute boys seduce me on a regular basis,” I say, and while I mean for the words to come out dry, they come out strained instead. Because this is a total fuck-up, and I know it.

“Yeah, well, if you had, my back wouldn’t be killing me like this.” Fox turns his attention back to the TV. “You have fun with your friends today? Sell lots of guns? Kill a few guys?”

“Just one,” I say, settling down next to him on the couch. “I’d offer to tell you about it, but I don’t think it’s gory enough for your liking. I didn’t even get any blood on my suit.”

“Hey, I usually don’t get blood on myself either.” Fox makes a finger gun gesture with one hand. “9 times out of 10 the target doesn’t even see me before I get them right between the eyes.”

“What happens when they do see you?” I ask, finding myself curious.

“Uh, they end up dead? Keep up, Daddy, I’m an assassin.” Fox sighs and props himself up on his elbows. He grits his teeth and sits up the rest of the way, although he keeps his back away from the couch.

“No one’s perfect a hundred percent of the time,” I say, thinking about what Cresci had said about Corbin. I don’t want to ruin the conversation by bringing him up, but I need to know more. I take a deep breath, then go on, “Fox… I have questions. They’re questions you probably won’t want to answer, but we can’t solve this whole mess unless you do.”

Fox reaches for the remote and presses buttons to change the episode. “I’ve seen this one before. There’s a show with international homes that’s more interesting anyway. The British ones don’t even help fund any of the reno. They just watch the homeowners dig themselves into deeper and deeper holes.”

I sigh. I should’ve expected the diversion, and I did, really, but now I’m not sure how to proceed. “I need you to tell me about Corbin,” I say quietly, touching his hand atop the remote.

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