Redemption - Garrett Leigh Page 0,58

think he didn’t care, and that was the problem. He cared so much Luis couldn’t hide from him, and that was why this shit had to end. Why he had to get as far away from Paolo as possible before he kicked down Luis’s walls and dragged everything out of him.

Tell him you love him.

Luis shook his head to clear it. Where had that come from? He needed to tell Paolo they couldn’t see each other anymore. That Luis couldn’t work at the cafe and sleep in Paolo’s bed. Not that he was so in love with him that he couldn’t see himself surviving what he had to do next. “I—”

Paolo cut him off with a growl and shoved him hard enough to make him sway on his feet. “Don’t. Whatever deflective rubbish you’re about to come out with, just don’t. Tell me the truth or don’t fucking bother. This is my life too. My business your brother is fucking with to get to you. Why can’t you just talk to me? Tell me what’s going on in your head?”

Something inside Luis snapped. He moved so fast he had Paolo pinned against the wall before he knew what he was doing. “Why do you want to know what’s going on in my head? Do you think it belongs to you because I suck your dick? Is that where this is going? You think you can fucking control me?”

Paolo’s gaze was wildfire and something else that Luis was too far gone to contemplate. “I don’t want to control you. I want to help you.”

“Why? So you can mould me to fit your world instead of mine? Do you think it’s that easy?”

“None of this is easy, Luis. I just want to understand.”

“You don’t want to understand. You want to know everything. That isn’t the same.”

“Isn’t it? Not everyone has an agenda.” Paolo fought Luis’s hold on him. He was strong, but Luis was stronger, and he kicked out in frustration, catching Luis’s shin with his boot.

The pain opened the gate. Every ounce of fear and despair burst through, and Luis clenched his fists. He pulled his arm back and punched the wall behind Paolo’s head. His fist broke through the plasterboard, leaving a hole by Paolo’s ear. His knuckles erupted, blood seeping to the surface of his broken skin. Beige dust from the wall littered Paolo’s hair. It should’ve been enough to bring him back to his senses, but it wasn’t. Rage still flowed through his veins like lava, and he couldn’t think straight.

Luis leaned closer to Paolo, close enough that they could’ve kissed. “Everyone has an agenda, cos every fucker’s out for themself. Sooner you learn that, the sooner you can be done with my shit.”

He backed off, every physical disconnect a bullet to his heart. His feet hit the back door.

Paolo stepped forward. “Luis—”

But Luis was already gone. He ripped the door open and fled, pounding the busy streets in the pouring rain until he found himself on the dilapidated street he called home. Wet through and breathless, he stopped and doubled over, shock and cold slamming into him like a sucker punch. What have I done? Paolo hadn’t flinched at Luis’s flying fists, but the damage to the wall was the same as if Luis had punched him in the face. The cafe was everything to him, to his family, and Luis had brought trouble to their door. He was the fucking trouble. Paolo had been right about him from the start.

Nausea rolled through Luis. He forced himself upright and trudged to the bedsit. The front door of the old house was half hidden by the overgrown trees by the porch. It took him a moment to notice the blood-red spray paint covering the battered wood—another faceless clock, this time with a crude interpretation of the Italian flag blotted into it. A marker or a warning, it didn’t matter. Dante’s message was clear: fuck this up and I’ll kill him.

Luis didn’t come back. It was becoming such a theme, Paolo was almost bored, but this time felt different. He locked the cafe without wondering if he should wait in case Luis returned, and went home. Shut the door behind him. Bolted it. Only then did the magnitude of what had happened hit him full force.

Trembling, he sank to the floor to sit with his head in his hands, his back to the door. What the hell just happened? He pictured Luis’s face as he’d driven his fist into