Guns n' Boys Book 1 Part 1 (3 page)

“But… we can visit one
another… and talk via Skype, right?” Peter shook in his arms. “We wouldn’t be
the first couple to have to live in a long-dista—”

Seth snapped. “You
can’t
visit me. I don’t know how long I will be gone, and my family is a bunch of
homophobes. I’ll leave you my number, but I can’t promise anything,” he said
and forced his way to the corridor. He might have been the Don’s son, but the
last thing he wanted was for Domenico to come upstairs and see who he lived
with. He quickly wrote down a made-up number in a notebook by the door, already
feeling ashamed for doing so. But he needed to be out quick, and he’d call
Peter when it was safe.

“Thank you,” whispered
Peter, hugging him with all the strength of his willowy limbs. “Will you miss
me?”

“Fuck, Peter, I have to
go. I will.” Seth gave him one last kiss and moved away, snatching the bag from
the bed.

“Seth, be careful,”
muttered Peter. He didn’t make any more attempts to stop him though.

Seth stroked his hair
one more time but ran out of the apartment and stomped down the stairs. His
heart couldn’t take any more guilt, so he ran from it as fast as he could.

Down in the street, he
quickly noticed the black car and sped to the door opened for him from the
inside. He’d barely slammed it shut before the car started moving. He found
himself awkwardly kneeling on the seat with his bag in Domenico’s lap. Seth
stared at the unbelievably symmetrical features.

“Is that all you have?
This country doesn’t serve you well," asked Domenico in a voice that made
Seth break out in goosebumps all over.

Seth pulled back his bag
and put it between them before settling in the seat. “Whatever,” was all he had
for the dickhead. They were alone, with thick black glass separating them from
the driver.

Domenico relaxed against
the backrest and cracked his knuckles. “You took so long that I was beginning
to wonder whether you were folding your underwear.”

Seth gaped at him, cold
spreading through his veins. “For fuck’s sake, I had to take care of
something.”

Domenico reached into
the pocket of his slacks and took out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. The
soft glow of the gas-fueled flame lit up the man’s handsome features, and the
air filled with smoke.

“Your father is getting
impatient. He would be furious if we missed our flight.”

“I know,” Seth muttered
and couldn’t help stealing another glance at Domenico. Somewhere behind the
facade of the made-to-measure suit and calm demeanor, he tried to find the boy
he once locked in a trash can. Who knew, maybe Seth
was
overreacting.
Maybe Domenico had forgotten all about silly things like that. He certainly
looked
different.

He had the same cool
olive complexion and clear amber eyes with thick black lashes, but the formerly
innocent, somewhat pudgy face was nowhere to be seen in the clean-cut, straight
lines of Domenico’s nose, strong brow line, and high cheekbones. The guy could
be a model. Unlike the boy from almost twenty years ago, this man displayed a
confidence Seth rarely witnessed. Each move was both nonchalant and scripted.
And the accessories, an expensive watch and fashionable sunglasses, only
strengthened the image of flawlessness.

Seth still felt an
undercurrent of attraction, but he tried not to stare, now more focused on
evaluating his opponent. Competing instead of trying to attract. He had no idea
how to deal with someone like Domenico. Seth’s instincts kept telling him he
was a mouse approaching a trap that was about to snap his neck. Being injured
didn’t help his confidence.

“Why did he send
you
of all people?” Seth finally grumbled.

Domenico gave him a slow
glance, and Seth couldn’t help but follow the swirl of smoke that left those
perfectly cut lips, curling around the soft flesh as if it couldn’t help
itself. “Well, he couldn’t allow them to cut off anything more, could he?”

Seth swallowed. This was
worse. He was still a mouse, but Domenico wasn’t a trap, you could avoid those.
It was like being locked in a cage with a cobra. A part of Seth screamed for
him to just open the door and jump.

He looked at the locked
door of the car, then at his hand. “Better a little finger than a thumb,” he
said, trying to sound tough. Maybe with a bit of effort, he could pull off
being a porcupine? Okay, hedgehog.

The rich baritone was
both a pleasure to listen to and an infuriating nuisance. “I believe it was all
about saving the index finger,” said Domenico light-heartedly.

Seth squinted at him.
The fucker was younger than him as well. How could he joke about such serious
matters? “You think this is funny?”

Domenico let out some
smoke through his nose, glancing at Seth with an amused twinkle in his eyes.
“Of course not.”

“So what are you so
happy about?” Seth followed the smoke. He could use a cigarette himself, but he
was not about to ask Domenico for one. Seth wished he could take away his cigs
and lock him in the trash can all over again.

“I’m simply happy to be
honored with the task of escorting you home,” said Domenico with an accent so
aristocratic that it didn’t fit his humble origins.

Seth took a deep breath
and tried not to imagine those lips around his cock. “You’re flying with me?”

The smoke lingered
around Domenico’s lips, caressing them in the most sensual manner. “I won’t
sleep for two days.”

“Why? You have to
babysit me?” Seth snorted and folded his arms across his chest. This was most
unsatisfying.

“That is my order.”

“What? Since when do I
need a nanny? What the hell is this anyway? Did Father pay them or not?” Seth
couldn’t decide what was worse, knowing about Family matters or
not
knowing anything.

Domenico’s ridiculously
perfect mouth curved into a small smile as he extinguished the cigarette,
already taking out another one. “It seems you weren’t worth all three million.
They negotiated, and you’ve been exchanged for a third of that and one of their
men.”

Seth pouted. He needed
to find a flaw in Domenico to feel he was dealing with a human, not the
embodiment of Italian style and his wet dream all in one. A missing button
maybe? He scrutinized Domenico’s suit again. Nothing. Not a fucking thread
sticking out.

“Well, I hope he lost a
finger as well.” He let his sour feelings soak into the words.

The lighter clicked
again. “A hand.”

Seth froze. “Good,” he
choked out, but couldn’t help feeling uneasy. His imagination strayed to the
vision of Domenico dealing with the amputation himself. And it was kind of hot,
which was even worse.

“He’ll probably die,
which cancels the agreement.” Domenico shrugged and smiled at Seth as if he
were telling him about the highs and lows of a football match. “But don’t
worry, I’ll keep you alive until we’re home.”

“I have a gun too, you
know.” Seth finally dared to look straight into Domenico’s eyes, so very bright
in contrast to the pitch-black hair.

Domenico was watching
him, completely relaxed. “Well, you didn’t make much use of it when the time
came.”

“There were five of
them. I shot one,” he lied. “How did they even know where I live? I see Father
once a year at best.”

Domenico adjusted a
suitcase between his legs with a soft sigh. “There was a leak, but don’t worry,
it will be dealt with.”

Seth dreaded to ponder
what that even meant, so he changed the subject. “Are you coming to the funeral
as well?”

“Of course,” replied
Domenico, looking out the window. They were on their way to JFK airport.

“Do you have clothes for
me?” Seth looked down at his tatty, cheap suit and cringed in shame. Father
wouldn’t be happy if he arrived looking worse than someone like Domenico
Acerbi.

“You’ll change at the
airport,” replied Domenico. They went quiet, and it seemed that Domenico had
fallen asleep, but the moment the car stopped at the terminal, he pushed the
door open and left the car.

Seth nodded and exited
from the other side, almost forgetting his bag.
Fuck
. Making a fool of
himself all the time hurt his pride just like the loss of a finger. He looked
around to find Domenico, who was standing by a taxi sign, buttoning up his
perfectly fitting suit jacket. It was like watching a panther: beautiful,
attentive, and deadly. Domenico put on his classy shades and frowned at the
wind that pulled a few strands out of his ponytail.

Seth stared, but
watching only got him angry that he wasn’t as presentable, when he had all the
means to be. He couldn’t wait to change into something better. Without a word,
he made his way to the terminal entrance and felt a glimmer of satisfaction
when Domenico followed.

They walked briskly,
aiming straight for the restrooms. Domenico entered first, heading for the
second room where the stalls were. He came to a sudden halt and pressed the
suitcase into Seth’s chest. “Change.”

Seth frowned, because it
sounded like an order, but went into the stall without another word. If
everything went smoothly, he could actually be asleep in a few hours. He would
get a semi-proper meal on the plane and as much wine as he wanted.

The stall was narrow,
but long, so he had enough space to move without bumping into everything around
him. Having closed the toilet, he placed the suitcase on top of it and looked
toward the door, under which he could still see Domenico’s shoes on the tiles.
He shook his head at the polished black leather.

Seth undressed as fast
as possible and opened the suitcase. He couldn’t help but sigh at the sight of
the dark fabric. It wasn’t just any old suit. It was black, with a matching
shirt. It was nice of his father to think of him even in such a stressful time.

A sharp snap made him
look back to the door, but there were no shoes to be seen. His breath hitched
when something bumped into the thin wall to his right, followed by the squeak
of shoe soles rubbing over something smooth. He moved toward the left wall of
the stall with a deep breath. It had to be the lack of proper sleep getting the
best of him because the noise died down. Putting on the clothes got him into a
strange mood. On one hand, he felt more appropriately dressed, on the other,
the black only reminded him of his mother’s death. He slowly looked out of the
stall in just his pants and shirt.

There was a man by the
urinal in the other room, but a brief glance at the restroom wasn’t enough to
locate Domenico. It brought his heart back to the galloping speed that only
reminded him of the moment when he was ambushed by his abductors. Light-headed
and sweating, he retreated toward the stall he was using, but just when he was
about to go back in, a door bumped into him. Seth looked back, instantly
holding up an arm for instinctive protection, but his face flushed when his
eyes met Domenico’s.

“I told you to change,”
said the panther, pulling off a thick rubber glove, with something wet
glistening on the smooth black surface.

Seth’s eyes went wide,
and he looked around, confused like a crocodile in a desert. “But… what’s
happening?” he uttered and took a step back, groaning when Domenico pushed him
inside and blocked the entrance.

“They sent another man
after you,” whispered Domenico and hid the gloves, inside out, in his pocket.

Seth backed off all the
way to the wall and put on the suit jacket. He struggled with the tie, but at
least it meant he didn’t have to look up at Domenico, who had locked them both
in the stall and was now busy with his cell phone. Seth’s eyes went to the
parting between the stalls, and he remembered how quickly Domenico had managed
to deal with… whatever the situation was. He’d definitely lost the urge to put
Dom in a trash can.

“We don’t have much
time.” Domenico shook his head, watching Seth’s struggle with the tie. “What
the hell are you doing?” He walked right up to him and grabbed the silk
accessory, tying it into the knot like a pro.

“Okay, okay, I just
haven’t worn a tie in a while,” Seth muttered, trying to ignore Domenico’s sexy
cologne. He wasn’t able to. A flush rushed up his chest. “D-Domenico?”

“What?” growled Dom,
snapping the suitcase shut as soon as he was done with the tie.

Seth leaned closer. He
didn’t want to tease his own senses, but there was no way around it if he
wanted to whisper. “Where is the body?” Domenico smelled so good Seth felt all
kinds of conflicted about the kill that just happened. Then again, why should
he be sorry about a man who came here with the intention to murder him?

When Domenico drew in a
sharp breath, Seth felt the movement of air on his chin, his eyes locked on the
expanding pupils. Domenico was silent for a second, but then cocked his head
toward the stall to their right. “It’s been dealt with.”

“But what do you mean?”
Seth insisted and straightened up to feel taller. “Maybe… you need some help?”
He swallowed. Seeing a dead body was the last thing he wanted, but he couldn’t
be a wimp.