Page 25 of The Big Fix

“Oh, ’cause I said boy. But you know how I meant it.”

“I do?”

“Yeah. Just like Efrem is Darius’s boy and Noah is Dante’s. Like, your guy, your boy. Like my wife, Jill, is my girl.”

“No,” I said flatly. “That’s not—no. Owen’s not my—”

“Oh, the fuck he isn’t, Jared,” he scoffed, taking another gulp from the bottle of beer he was nursing. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you, and it’s the same way Jill looks at me. Like I belong to her.”

I couldn’t breathe.

“It’s sexy as hell,” he murmured, and I knew he was thinking about his wife.

“What?”

“What?” he echoed, sounding confused.

“Owen doesn’t look at me like your wife…”

His brows furrowed. “Are you fucking with me right now?”

“No, I’m not fuck—of course not. What the hell is with everybody?”

He laughed at me then. “Jared Colter, you cannot think for a minute that when I said your boy, I meant anything other than your boy, the one who sleeps in your bed and whom you fuck every night.”

I stood fast, before my brain even registered who I was thinking of attacking. This was retired Army Major Christopher Mancuso, one of the best snipers I’d ever seen and the man I’d once watched take out five guys, alone, in a bar in Kabul. I was fairly certain he’d been armed with a spork or something at the time.

To his credit, Chris didn’t even get up. “Sorry, sorry. He fucks you, then,” he said dismissively. “Didn’t mean to get it wrong. Don’t get your panties in a wad.”

“I’m going to kill you,” I threatened him.

He squinted up at me. “Are you sleep-deprived or some shit?”

I stood there, dripping water, staring at him.

“You’re not serious?” he said, suddenly looking like he felt sorry for me. “For fuck’s sake, Jared, that man is head over heels for you. How the fuck did you miss that?”

“I don’t miss anything!” I declared. “And he can’t be in love with me. He’s too young.”

Chris sat up then, swinging his long legs over the side of the chaise, and met my gaze before gesturing me down. Once I took a seat, facing him, I noted how pained he looked. “Jared…are you stupid?”

Not what I was expecting. “You know I’m not,” I spat out defensively.

“Yeah, but…” he began hesitantly. “How are you missing the torch he’s carrying?”

“He’s not—”

“He is,” he assured me. “I’ve seen it, and think about it—I don’t see you that often, but the last time I was at your house…two years ago now? It was there, plain as day.”

“He’s too young for me,” I reminded him. “And whatever you saw, I’m sure was just him being grateful.”

“Grateful for what?”

“Chris, I saved him from being sold into sexual servitude when he was ten.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“And you don’t think that’s enough?”