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A Brand New Day
Felinus woke up the next morning to the smell of pancakes, sausages, and coffee. “I’m going to take your card key,” he muttered, rubbing at his face as he walked into the kitchen for the fridge.
“If you did that, you’d have to make you and your guest breakfast every morning,” his not-so-little brother pointed out as he flipped a pancake so perfect it made Felinus a little sick, “and we both know you aren’t going to do that.” Brutus turned around as Felinus opened jug of orange juice and put his hand over the spout before Felinus could lift it to his mouth. “You’re the one who invited the long term house guest. Get a cup.”
“Dio onnipotente, you are worse than Ma,” Felinus grumbled, pulling a cup out of his cabinet and pouring juice into it. “Happy?”
“Not really,” Brutus said, rolling his eyes as Felinus sat on the counter next to the opened insulated bag and peered inside of it. His brother had already started packing enough food to feed a small army from what he stocked the fridge with, plus various snacks that Felinus was sure now filled his usually nearly empty pantry. “I’d be happier if you admitted the real reason you moved a grad school twink into your apartment.”
“It’s an opportunity, Brutus,” Felinus said, taking a drink of his juice. “An investment into the future.”
“Really,” Brutus said, “because from where I’m standing and the pictures Lucio sent me, it looks like you finally gave in to your little head instead of the one on your shoulders.”
Felinus paused and clenched his jaw. He was going to kick Lucio’s ass the next time he saw him, assuming his cousin didn’t have those death hounds with him. “Issac Maus is going to be a big player one day, Brutus,” he said seriously. “No matter what he ends up doing, people are going to fall in line at his command and want to be in his favor. I’m making sure when he steps up to that role we already have the favor signed and sealed. Anything else is just-” he took another drink to buy himself a second, “a benefit.”
“Right,” Brutus said in that tone that he used when he didn’t believe a single word Felinus said. “And you aren’t at all concerned with the fact that Snake, the same guy that managed to steal from the Family for a year before the bastard using him got greedy, can’t find anything about him other than his transcripts?”
Felinus tipped the cup back to drain the last of his juice. “Concerned, no.” He looked at Brutus. “He’s got some level of affiliation. I’m not stupid. He’s too comfortable and observant of details not to have had someone teach him how to do it. But it doesn’t change the fact he’s got no one now.”
“He can’t be affiliated with the Family,” Brutus pointed out. “We’d know of him.”
“And it’s not the Russians either,” Felinus told him. “He’s been keeping Little Volkov at arms length for the better part of seven years. If he was part of the Russians, the Pakhan would have done something about that.” He licked the rim of the glass. “I think it’s the Irish. A couple of them were getting nosy at No-Man’s and it was the only time Issac got twitchy. But whoever taught him doesn’t really matter. He doesn’t want to be involved with any of our business and I have no plans to get him involved.”
“Except for taking him into your home and telling him all of our names,” Brutus said, turning back to the stove to make more pancakes.
“Brutus,” Felinus said, setting his cup down on the counter next to him. “He needs people to help him. I may have only known him for a day but even I can tell he’s too damn stubborn for his own good. If someone doesn’t make him take care of himself, he’s going straight into an early grave. You saw how thin he is and all the medicine he needs to take. He needs help and there is no one he feels like he can turn to. I’ve convinced him to let me help until the New Year and from what the doctor said if everything goes to plan by then he’ll be out of immediate danger.”
Brutus turned back around as Felinus talked and slowly tilted his head to one side. “So he’s a brat.”
Felinus raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
“He’s. A. Brat.” Brutus grinned. “You like brats. It’s the only consistent thing in your dating life, at least until the brat gets too complacent.”
“He’s not a-” Felinus started then scowled as he remembered how Issac acted all last night. “He’s a bit of a brat,” he admitted begrudgingly. “But my point still stands. Brat or no brat, he needs support and help and no one else knows his situation.”
“Fine, fine,” Brutus said, turning the pancake. “I’ll follow you on this, Felinus, like always. Just be careful. If the Russians or the Irish figure out that Issac is more than just a passing investment, they might try to use it against you.”
“I’d like to see them try,” Felinus said, grinning viciously.
The brothers started at a voice shouted from the direction of Issac’s room. “What did he just say?”
* * *
Issac jerked awake to the soft sound of voices and the smell of food, his stomach twisting. Groaning, he pressed into the soft pillow that smelled like fabric softener before lifting his head to squint out the massive windows letting the twilight in. Where- Twilight?
He sat up on his knees as he looked to his watch and swore at the silver face. “Verdammt die uhr!” It was six-thirty. He’d overslept and it was all that damn Italian’s fault for getting rid of his watch. Ten minutes later, he was toweling himself off in a bathroom that was tiled completely in white. There were hair ties in a drawer that he used to pull his hair back into one of the ponytails the stylist was talking about to get all of it out of his face and neck. Walking back into the room, he put on the same clothes as yesterday rather than dig through the boxes in the closet before heading for the living space.
Felinus was sitting on the kitchen’s island bar when Issac stepped into the hall, looking far too attractive in a white undershirt, wrinkled slacks, and hair that was only combed with fingers. He looked around as Issac pulled the door shut and smiled as he jumped down from the counter to meet him halfway. “I bought you more than one shirt you know,” he said, catching Issac around the waist and crowding him against the wall inside the hall.
“I don’t have time to go digging through all the boxes for them,” Issac said, feeling his breath catch in his chest as his back pressed into the wall and Felinus’s cologne washed over him. “We need to get going.”
“We have plenty of time, baby boy,” he said, his hands on the wall on either side of Issac’s head.
“No, we don’t,” Issac countered, checking the time again. He didn’t know how long it took to get out of the building or to Felinus’s car at this time of day and despite Snake’s comments about the drive being forty minutes max, he wasn’t willing to risk getting locked out of his lecture because of other people. “Either drive me there or I start walking.”
“It takes two hours to walk from here to the campus,” another voice called from the kitchen, and Issac narrowed his eyes.
“Brutus was kind enough to make you breakfast,” Felinus said, “and pack your lunch bag. You should go thank him.” He moved his hands from the wall. “Go eat while I get dressed. Then we’ll go.” His hand wrapped around Issac’s neck as he made to move, his mouth against his ear. “Don’t even think of going down that elevator without me. Dr. Najjar was very clear that you should not be doing any running or long-distance walking. Do not make me handcuff you to the breakfast bar every morning.”
