DESI
Sweat dottedthe back of my shirt as I waited for her to react to what I had just said.
“A dead body?” Scout smirked. “Real tough guy, huh?”
Relief washed over me in such a way I almost dropped my hands from the wheel. I laughed and kept driving.
“Are you sure you don’t want…” She placed her hand on my thigh and ran it along the inside of my jeans. The erection I had from finger fucking her in the backseat was gone after telling her about my trunk, but it began to stir from her quick touch.
“Watching you come all over my lap is fine for now.” I reached down and strung my fingers through hers. “You make the sexiest faces, by the way.”
“Stop.” She blushed and pushed her hair behind her ear.
“Oh, now you’re shy?”
“Stop!” The mood relaxed, and when I dropped her off, she offered to let me come in, but I refused.
“I would, but I want to take this slow,” I said and shook my head. “I know, what happened in the car isn’t exactly slow, but still, slower. I don’t want you to run once you get to know me.”
“Why would I run? Because you’ve got money? Or because of the dead body in your trunk?” She rolled her beautiful brown eyes. I never knew how much I loved that color of eyes before seeing them on her. Would she look just as good in the icy blue of a Bloodshed? No. That was blasphemous just to think. But they’d look absolutely stunning in Bloodborn red.
“Yes.”
“Well.” She put her hands on my chest, and I savored the warmth before she pushed me off the stairs playfully. “Then let’s take it slow. Good night, Desi. Thank you for today.”
I stared at her for a long moment, praying that this wouldn’t be the last time I saw her, but just in case, I still tried to memorize everything about her.
“I had a lot of fun. I’ll call you soon.” I turned and walked to my car. She stood on the porch and waited until I was out of the driveway before she went inside. I drove down her road and the few blocks after, and then raced to my parents’ house. I turned my stereo up as loud as I went, blocking out all thoughts of before and now after, my date with Scout. Focus on the good.
She. Was good.
I drove through the gates of my parent's estate and followed the drive. The house was lit up, and I noticed my brother’s car.Good. I’d need his help. I climbed out of my car and looked up at the house I had been raised in.
Until now, it had been rather unimpressive to me. It was just a house. Three stories, nine bedrooms, wings on both the second and third floors. Each of us kids having our own living area. We never had to share space, clothes, toys, or anything else. Everything we ever owned was new and the latest trend. We were privileged.
How had Scout grown up? Certainly not like this. She would make fun of me if she saw this. She would resent me. I couldn’t ever let her see this part of my life. She’d never see me the same. I sighed, kicked off my car, and hurried up the tall stairs to go inside.
My sister, Caterina, was the first one I found. She was dancing all alone in the gallery. Judging by her movements, she was very drunk. I stuffed my hands in my pockets and waited for her to see me. It took longer than I would have liked. Her record player finally stopped, and she opened her eyes. She jumped when she saw me.
“Desiderio, what are you doing here?”
“I’m looking for Gianni. I saw his car out front.”
“Why would I know where he is?” She scoffed. “Where’s Aleida?” She looked around me as if she was behind me. “I haven’t seen her since she turned.”
“She’s with her friends. She’s become just as obnoxious as you, dear sister.”
“You’ll think differently once you’ve gone through the change.” She shrugged. “He’s probably with Daddy, in his study.” It was my turn to roll my eyes. My sister was almost thirty, and still, she called our fatherDaddy. She was definitely more spoiled than I was. That thought made me happy, and I left her to dance to her Madonna records and drink more wine.
Our dad’s office door was closed, so I knocked and waited for the invite.
A moment later, I heard my brother’s sharp voice.
“Yeah?”
I opened the door and found him and both of our parents sitting in chairs and sipping glasses of what looked like bourbon.
“Desiderio,” my mother greeted me. “How are you?”
