Broken Bride
I feel myself blush when his gaze falls on me, even though it is just for a moment. I feel laid bare all over again.
“We were just shopping,” I say.
“We need to be prepared,” Angelo says, ignoring me. “The British are coming. I have word that several agents departed Heathrow an hour ago. I think it’s likely that they are en route here, if they can glean where ‘here’ is.”
“Are we going to move Tilly?”
“Not at this point,” Angelo replies. “Our location is currently secret, as far as I’m aware. One never knows.”
“If you’re wrong, then it will be too late,” Bobby points out. He’s a little shit, but he does have a function here. He says what nobody wants to say. He actively defies Angelo. I can’t imagine what Angelo does to him for that.
“We have multiple avenues of escape, as usual," Angelo says. “What I want from the three of you is awareness, and obedience. I have little tolerance for disobedience at the best of times. This is not the best of times. Fair warning.”
Bobby makes a little snorting noise.
“What?”
That’s a question I would know better to answer coming from Angelo as he stands before us right now. Apparently, Bobby doesn’t.
“You’ve never sat us down and lectured us before. This isn’t for our benefit. This is for Tilly. Because we all have to walk on eggshells now because she’s here. And because she’s here, now we have British agents coming for us. As if we don’t have enough to worry about. Mark has the entire FBI looking for him, Tilly has MI5 or whatever the fuck, and here I am, being fucking ignored so you can fuck a girl.”
The end of his rant takes a hard left, and there’s no doubt that he’s bitter. There’s also no doubt that he knows Angelo and I were together. Was he watching? Listening? How did he know?
“See me in my office, Bobby.”
* * *
Angelo
"You were the first, Bobby, and I’ve made you share.”
His expression becomes slightly less guarded. I know he expects me to beat him. I know he wants me to. Pain bonds us. But we have to talk. What’s going on now is too important to leave to flesh meeting flesh.
“She doesn’t belong here. She’s not one of us. Nobody is. It’s not even that she’s a girl. It’s that she’s here at all, Angelo. How many others are you going to bring into our lives? Is every fucking room in this house going to be filled?”
“She's not here to replace you.”
“Every time you’re with her, that’s time you're not with me.”
“True.”
Bobby gives me a resentful look.
We have never solved anything with words. I don’t know why I am trying now. Perhaps because the situation is more complex than it should be. Perhaps because I feel a deep obligation to and affection for this young man.
“Get rid of her, Angelo.”
He knows he has no right to speak to me that way, and that I might well beat him for daring to say it. He doesn’t care. Bobby has never really liked sharing.
“I’m not going to do that. You’re going to have to learn to live with her.”
“Or I could leave.”
Bobby could leave me the same way a domesticated tiger could leave a zoo. Could it technically work? Yes. Would it result in widespread carnage, destruction, and misery? Definitely.
“You’re not going anywhere, boy.”
“You can’t stop me. Not if I really want to. I know where the bodies are buried, Angelo. I know where the…”
I shut him up with a brutal kiss.
“I need your help,” I tell him. “You and I are going to become even richer and more powerful. Handled properly, this could be an opportunity to expand into England, and then Europe. I want you by my side. And we both need Tilly. Without her, none of this happens.”
“None of what, exactly.”
“Have you ever wanted your own castle, Bobby?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“No. I don’t want this shit.” Bobby is firm. “Why can’t you just be happy with us? Why did you have to go and get a girl too?”
“Because that girl needed saving.”
“So do thousands of people. Why her?”
“I’ve given you two reasons, Bobby.”
“And they’re both bullshit.”
Ordinarily, I’d whip his ass for this kind of insolence, but he’s right, and frankly, I have to start treating him with a fraction more respect if I want him to step up. Bobby can’t be my bratty boy forever. It’s time I level with him.
“You’re right. I didn’t need to marry her. I didn’t need to sleep with her. But I wanted her, and I take what I want.”
“You slept with her?”
The expression of betrayal on his face would be priceless if I were still the heartless bastard I was when we first met. Today, I do not want to hurt him senselessly.
“She’s my wife, Bobby,” I say, knowing that the words don’t mean anything.