Sergio (Benedetti Brothers 3)

Maybe in some way, I hope her innocence will absolve me. Even as I know that for someone like me, there is no absolution. I’m hell bound. I will burn for what I’ve done, for the sins I’ve committed. And I don’t deny that’s where I belong. But I want my time first. I want my time with her even though I know it’s selfish. Even though I know I should walk away now before things get more confused.

Because they’re already confused as fuck.

And when she mentioned the other things, the lack of birth control, I don’t know what I was thinking. What I did before I left—rubbing my cum into her—in a way, what she said, the fact that a child is a possibility?

Fuck.

I don’t even know what I’m thinking. What I’m doing. What do I want? To put a baby inside her? What the fuck is wrong with me? She’s still in school. She’s got her whole life ahead of her. And what if I’m right? What if I’m not around for long? What the fuck am I doing to her? How much more selfish can I be?For the last few nights, I’ve been determined to have ‘normal’ time with Natalie. Drinks, dinner and sex. A lot of sex. Tonight, I’m picking her up and bringing her to my house.

I park at my usual spot at a lot two blocks away, tipping the attendant generously. I get a text from my father.

“Why the fuck is it so hard for you to do me this one goddamned favor?”

I roll my eyes. I know what he’s talking about and I’m going to have to talk to Eric. I realize he’s on my father’s payroll, but still.

I stop to text him back. “I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself.”

My phone rings a moment later.

“You make sure Eric drives you. I don’t like you out there on your own. We have enemies, Sergio. You fucking know this.”

“Fine. Christ.”

“Good. I’d hate to have to fire Eric. He’s got a family to feed.”

“I’ll make sure he earns his money. I have to go.”

“I mean it, Sergio.”

“Me too, dad.”

When I get to the tiny house, which I love but which I also know is something that is so not possible given who I am, I peek in the kitchen window. The lace curtains are open and I can see straight inside. I wonder if she realizes how much of her life is lived on display, with people always looking in. This is one of those things that gives me pause because I’m stealing that ease from her simply by showing up here, by inserting myself into her life. Because my enemies will become her enemies. And she doesn’t even have a clue.

Without knocking, I unlock the door and go inside. At least she’s good about keeping it locked.

“Nat?” I call out, walking through the kitchen, not bothering to take off my coat since we’ll be leaving.

“You know I don’t like anyone calling me that.” Her voice comes from upstairs.

I smile, but before I can reply, a hairdryer goes on. There’s a strange scent in the house today. It’s familiar but I can’t quite place it. It doesn’t fit here and it leaves me with an uncomfortable feeling.

Pepper’s lying on the floor beside the couch and her tail makes a thudding sound against the hardwood as she wags it when I approach. “Hey Pepper.” I pet her, and she lays her head back down. She looks tired and I wonder how much longer she’ll be around.

The blow dryer switches off and I hear heels click at the top of the stairs. “Hey, the bathroom window’s stuck. Can you see if you can open it for me?” Natalie asks.

“Sure.” I climb up the stairs. She’s in her bedroom applying mascara. “You know you don’t need that.” I walk to her, meet her eyes in the mirror.

“I like it,” she says, straightening, closing the tube.

That’s when I realize what the smell is. Why it makes me so uncomfortable.

“What’s that?” I ask, pointing to the chipped vase on the nightstand that holds a small bouquet of lilies. The flowers are pink and white and for as beautiful as they are, I can’t fucking stand them or their stink.

“Oh,” she glances at the flowers, then at me. “It was on my doorstep when I got here.”

I go to it, and I’m holding my breath. “On your doorstep?”

“Yeah. I think it was Drew. He can be dramatic. I’m assuming they symbolize the death of the internship.”

I glance at her as she rolls her eyes and returns her attention to her reflection, picking up a tube of lip gloss.

“So, no note?”

“Nope.”

“Who’s Drew again?” I vaguely remember the name.

She puts the gloss down and looks at me. “My best friend since we were kids,” she says matter-of-factly.