Guns n' Boys Book 1 Part 1 (6 page)

Domenico felt a pull at
the corners of his mouth, but he kept the smile plain and nodded. “There’s
plenty of places to train there. I will make sure he returns home alive.”

“Good man.” Luigi patted
him on the shoulder. “If anyone can smash some sense into him, it’s you. I’ll
try to find out what prompted the Don’s decision. Maybe Vincente did something
none of us knows of.”

“He’s not my perfect Don
either,” muttered Domenico, squinting at the house. He dropped the cigarette
into the grass and stomped on it.

Luigi put a hand on his
shoulder and stepped closer to look straight into Dom’s eyes. It was as if he
could see right through him better than Domenico’s mother. “Don’t lose your
head, Domenico, yeah? Focus.”

“You know I’m always
focused.” Domenico grinned and slouched against a tree. “Don’t worry, the
porcelain will be fine.”

Chapter 3

The funeral was drawing
to an end, and Seth was shocked that his hangover wasn’t that bad. He vaguely
remembered Domenico feeding him some pills, like a good nanny, but with the
amount of alcohol he had drunk the day before, he didn’t think it would help.
Seth took part in the mass and did all that was required of him, but he didn’t
feel anything, still numb after yesterday’s announcement. No number of priests
could get his mother back. They would never again sit together in the kitchen
and bake cakes for Christmas.

A part of him that was
still religious hoped she was in a better place, a place without pain and
sickness, but he’d lost his faith somewhere along the way in his life. He
wouldn’t tell any member of his family because they wouldn’t understand, but
she was the one who told him to stay away. His mother didn’t want to be
remembered as sick, and as much as he wanted to come and be with her, Seth
respected that. There was also the silent agreement between them that it would
be best if he stayed away from Family business. His mother had been the one
helping him apply for university in the US and supporting him along the way.
None of the mafia men could comprehend the bond they shared.

And now everything had
gone to shit, all her efforts to keep him away were useless in the face of
Father’s decision. He didn’t dare say it outloud, but it was pure madness. His
hand still hurt, reminding him of his captivity, and now he was to be
‘schooled’ by Domenico Acerbi of all people. It would be hell on earth.

As if to spite the grim
mood in his heart, the weather couldn’t have been more perfect. The sun seeped
through the stained glass windows of the small church in thick rays, coloring
the floor and the women sitting on the other side of the aisle with bright
patterns. Seth’s eyes however, were on the small female silhouette lying in the
coffin on a bed of white satin and flowers. The mortician had done an excellent
job. In her favorite dark green dress and a pearl necklace, Mother looked more
alive than the last time he’d seen her, just before she was diagnosed with
cancer. Even the makeup was spot-on, all the way to her favorite shade of
lipstick. Earlier today, Seth had sneaked into her bedroom, got her most prized
lipstick, and put it into the tiny purse she was to be buried with.

Vincente hadn’t uttered
a single word to him since yesterday, and he kept his distance, sitting on the
opposite side of the bench, next to their father. Seth looked for Domenico but
couldn’t see him anywhere. Maybe it was for the better? The last thing he
needed was to get agitated by his handsome fucking face.

Everyone was slowly
getting up to move on to the graveyard, where the coffin would be taken. In a
way Seth felt as if it were his life ending. His old life. The life of Seth who
had a boyfriend, attended university, and had fun hobbies. He followed his
father out of the church and watched him look into the sky, drying his eyes
with a handkerchief. Seth didn’t have any tears in him. He put on his shades
and moved to stand at the foot of the hole prepared for his mother. There were
so many people, all with a close relationship with the Villani family. There
were his cousins, family friends, and so many of them wanted a piece of him now
that the news of his new status had spread that he was getting tired of it. All
he wanted was for the funeral to be over so that he could get a few minutes for
himself.

Stuck under a pine tree,
Seth looked up at the pale walls of the old church, which seemed to crouch on
the slope, with a round tower at the other side. When he slid his gaze down the
limestone to watch the exit of the church, where the coffin would appear at any
moment, his heart halted for a split-second at the sight of a familiar
silhouette. Domenico’s sleek, broad-shouldered form was confined in the most
perfect fitting black suit imaginable. The wind played with the flap of his
suit jacket and the tight ponytail of pitch-black hair, but Domenico wasn’t
alone. Holding onto his arm was a slim woman in a black veil so thick, Seth
couldn’t recognize her face.

Thanks to his dark
sunglasses, Seth could actually stare. Looking at Domenico in that black suit
and knowing what he’d done at the airport, Seth began to think that he should
have been named
Demonico
. As destructively attractive as Domenico was,
Seth had to remember to keep his distance, or he would reveal himself. If
Domenico knew Seth was gay, that he’d smelled his hair when he was drunk
yesterday, he’d go mental. Men killed for these things in the Family. He had goosebumps
at the memory of little Mimmo trying to gut him with a kitchen knife. He
vaguely remembered crying himself to sleep and his mother coming over several
times a night to check on him.

The adult Domenico stood
in place like an incredibly shapely statue, solid and dark even as the light
became paler. Seth blinked and looked up at the gray edges of a thick cloud
that blocked the sun and now loomed over the church like a bad omen.

The lady in the black
veil leaned over to Domenico and they whispered to each other. Everyone seemed
to have some business here, to know exactly what they were doing. Only Seth was
lost in a sea of vultures in black, all circling around him and watching closely.
Just as the coffin appeared at the door of the church, the first droplets of
water fell on Seth’s sunglasses. There was discontented whispering in the
background, but he only had eyes for the wooden box that would be Mother’s
final resting place. The lady in black started slowly walking toward the grave,
her veil floating with the wind as Domenico watched over her in silence.

The vultures opened
their umbrellas, and the massive one Domenico opened for the lady beside him
reminded Seth of a protective wing. It was strange to see the demon being nice
to someone for a change. Domenico was so calm and collected as well, nothing
like the little bratty, screaming Mimmo, who would always burst out in anger,
as if afraid he would burn up if he didn’t let it out. The knife attack hadn’t
come out of the blue. Okay, maybe Seth wasn’t the nicest kid around and had
teased Mimmo for his long hair, but they were kids, kids did that kind of shit.
Domenico’s hair had been even longer back then, dark and thick, like a girl’s.
He used to be thin, gangly, and so much weaker and smaller than Seth. An easy
target. But Seth would have never even considered the option of the other boy
actually fighting back with so much violence. God, had he been wrong.

The funeral rites seemed
to happen beyond Seth’s attention as he looked at the endless spray of water
first dotting, then dripping down the coffin as it was lowered into the soil.
He snapped out of it when a pile of wet dirt landed right on the cross on the
casket lid. Father slowly got up and cleaned his hand with a linen
handkerchief, safe and dry under an umbrella held by one of his men.

That was it for Seth. “I
need to spend some time in the church,” he whispered to Father, who nodded and
for a moment, the heavy weight of his hand on Seth’s shoulder was almost
comforting.

“Prayer helps.” Father
slowly looked toward the sea. “Your car will be waiting outside, take as long
as you need,” he said as the stream of mourners made their way toward the
parking lot.

Seth nodded and went to
the church. The only reason he chose to take an umbrella was so the gun his
father gave him wouldn’t get wet. The church was quiet and empty. Even the
priest wasn’t there, which was usual for Villani funerals, and there were many
of those. Seth sighed and sat down in the back, praying for the first time in
years. For his mother’s soul, for a safe future, for Peter’s forgiveness. Seth
couldn’t even call the poor guy for security reasons, and now that he knew they
would probably never see each other again, guilt was weighing on his heart and
making him feel like a cartoon villain.

With the rain, it
quickly became cool inside, and he gently moved his fingers to warm them up. A
slight knocking made him look up, deeper into the side nave, where statues and
big imposing confessionals drowned in the shadows. He frowned, hearing the
knock again. He swallowed, now glad his father had given him a gun. The sounds
were becoming louder, and he approached the confessional at the end of the
aisle, gun heavy in his hand. His heart was in his throat when he looked at the
thick red velvet curtain of the old wooden confessional, the angels carved on
it looking at Seth with their hands clasped together. Through the furious
pulsing in his ears, he could hear muffled voices. Drawing in a sharp breath,
he yanked the curtain to the side, stepping back with the gun raised high, but
his hands fell along with his stomach. He felt sick.

Domenico was spooning
another man on the kneeler inside. It wouldn’t take a genius to understand what
was going on. Their pants were pulled down, and Seth got an eyeful of
Domenico’s ass in what was possibly the only time he didn’t want to see a
gorgeous male ass. Both men looked back at him, and the stranger writhed in
Dom’s embrace, his eyes going wide like a dog’s that got caught stealing
sausage. Domenico wouldn’t let him go though. Within a few moves, he clasped
the guy’s mouth shut with his hand and forced his face into the wooden grille
between the compartments. He fucked the exposed ass in quick, sharp jabs. His
eyes though were on Seth, pale, clear, challenging.

Seth inhaled deeply and
couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He had to force himself not to pull the
trigger. He stood there, watching, shaking in utter shock but couldn’t help
feeling scared as well, even though it was him with the gun in his hand.
Domenico didn’t even look away, just kept on fucking. Fucking a guy.
Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck.

Seth couldn’t believe
it. The cold-blooded beast was even fucking like a demon. “Do you have no
shame?” he yelled in disbelief, and his voice resonated between the ancient
walls. At the back of his mind, the realization that Domenico was having sex in
a church, at Seth’s mother’s funeral, was making him completely numb with rage.
But all the answer he got was a groan and a choir of slaps as Domenico’s eyes
glazed over.

“Are you fucking kidding
me? Get out!” Seth screamed at him, but his voice shook. Anger flowed through
him in the most primal form. These men had no respect for the funeral, and Seth
wanted to rip them apart, but in the end, he took a step back, his face and
ears on fire.

The loud, prolonged
groan in Domenico’s rich baritone told him the bastard was coming. Seth looked
back just in time to see his cock slip out from between the other guy’s buttocks.
At least Dom’s partner had the decency to hide his face in shame as he quickly
pulled up his pants.

Seth lowered his gun and
watched Dom lazily follow the example. He couldn’t hate his guts more, yet a
shiver went all the way down his chest as he observed Dom rearrange his
clothes. The fucker was too sexy for his own good, and Seth was afraid of just
how attracted he was to those darkened lips. Dom’s deep breaths and loose
strands of his hair only reminded Seth of the way he’d fucked just seconds ago.
The sexual tension was so strong Seth felt a tingle in his lips. He barely even
noticed the other guy quietly slip away, too transfixed on Dom rearranging his
hair with a slight smile.

“You fucker,” Seth
finally choked up and pulled Dom up by the front of his jacket, but the smile
never left Domenico’s lips like it was all a big joke.

“Oh, fuck off,” he said,
without even raising a finger in his defense.

“No way! What do you
think you’re doing?” Seth shook him, ignoring the sharp pain in his hand where
his finger was missing. He pushed Domenico against the wall of the
confessional, barely managing to breathe when the man’s warm breath brushed
over his fingers.

“You’ve never seen
people having sex?” asked Dom without an ounce of guilt. Or embarrassment for that
matter. The guy was freaking gay and didn’t care the Don’s son found out? What
kind of holy cow was he?

“You will not get away
with this.” Seth shook him, breathing hard and standing so close their noses
almost touched. Seth could smell the sex on him. When Domenico snorted, opening
his mouth, his warm breath became even more tangible, giving Seth the
beginnings of a very confused boner.

“Oh, that’s rich. What
is it that you want to do to me?”

Dom’s words were making
him just as angry as his own excitement, and there was no other way to deal
with it.

He punched Domenico
right in the face, so hard the fucker’s head hit the wooden wall behind him.
The moment Seth felt control of the situation back on his side, a wave of pain
hit his hand, and he swore.

Domenico’s face relaxed,
and he shook his head, straightening his neck as if nothing had happened.
“There, now leave my shirt the fuck alone. It’s worth more than your sorry
gun.”

Seth bit on the inside
of his lips, frustrated to no end and hugging his hurt hand close. He let Dom
go but shoved him at the wall once more. “Are you not ashamed at all?” he
whispered, completely lost.

Domenico buttoned up his
suit jacket and swiftly made a knot on his tie. He was looking at Seth as if he
were being forced to interact with a complete idiot. “No.”

Seth felt as if he were
trapped in some parallel universe where none of his words made sense anymore.
“In a church? With a man?” he added, and grabbed Dom’s arm when he saw him
walking away with a shrug. “I’m talking to you!”