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“What the fuck?”
I shrieked at the sound of the stranger’s voice, shock ripping through my pleasure.
“Matt,” Marco rasped, looking past me toward the threshold to the bedroom. “This isn’t—”
“You’re a fucking fag,” the boy spat out. “Your father sent me here to find out why you haven’t been taking his calls. I heard screaming, and I thought something was wrong. But you… Both of you… You’re fucking fags,” he hurled the insult again.
Joseph cursed, and but he moved with slow care as he pulled out of me. I could hear footsteps pounding down the staircase. Matt was running away.
“Fuck, fuck,” Joseph repeated, frantic. He lifted me off Marco, still handling me carefully so he didn’t hurt me. “Go after him, Marco. We have to explain. We can’t let him tell anyone.”
“I know,” Marco said grimly, getting to his feet and yanking on his jeans.
I heard tires squealing against asphalt outside. Marco looked out the window, then shook his head.
“He’ll be out the gates before I can get to him.” He turned back to look at me, his face paler than I’d ever seen it. “Clean up and get dressed. We have to get into the city and do damage control.”
“I thought it wasn’t safe to leave the estate,” I said, but I started to climb out of bed.
He shook his head sharply. “We can’t stay here. They’ll come right for us. We have to head them off and try to explain.”
“But why?” I asked, not understanding why the situation was so dire. Of course, it was odd for the three of us to be together. But Marco made it sound as though we were in danger.
“Homosexuality isn’t accepted in our world,” Joseph told me, just as grim as Marco. “If my father’s enemies catch wind of this, it’ll be all the excuse they need to come after my family.”
“But you’re not gay,” I said. What we shared didn’t really have a definition that I was familiar with, but we were all together. The three of us.
“They won’t see it that way,” Marco said. “Come on. We have to go. We have to get to Matt before he turns on us.”
Chapter Thirteen
Ashlyn
“Why are we splitting up?” I asked Joseph as we pulled through the open gates that guarded Marco’s estate.
Marco zoomed past the Porsche on his motorcycle, already speeding toward the city.
Joseph hit the gas, following him. For now.
I didn’t like that we weren’t all in the car together. I didn’t like that we were about to go in different directions.
“You and I need to get to my father at the restaurant,” Joseph explained. “Matt might’ve already called him to tell him what he saw, but we need to try to get to him first. We have to explain.”
“And what are we going to say?” I asked, concerned. “Will your father accept that the three of us are together?”
His knuckles turned white on the steering wheel. “Probably not. But it might make enough of a difference that he’ll protect us from the rest of the family.” He glanced over at me. “I hate that I’m bringing you into this, but I can’t leave you alone on the estate without one of us to protect you. Just stay close to me.”
“But what about Marco? Where is he going?”
“He’s going to try to find Matt, if he hasn’t gone to the restaurant. If we’re lucky, Matt will go straight to my father.”
“And if we aren’t lucky?”
His jaw ticked. “Matt might decide to go to Gabriel Costa, my father’s rival. He might forsake our blood family for what I’ve done.”
“But I don’t understand why it’s so terrible.”
He reached over and squeezed my hand. “It’s not. There’s nothing wrong with what we share. But other people in my world won’t see it that way.” He returned his grip to the steering wheel and pressed down on the gas. “Hold on, angel. We’re about to break a few laws.”
Joseph pulled up to the curb in front of his family’s restaurant. I was sure the parking ticket he would get would be far less expensive than all the traffic violations he’d committed getting us here. It was a miracle we hadn’t been pulled over, but I was fairly certain he’d be getting a ticket for running at least one red light.
My heart pounded in my chest from the frightening ride. Joseph had seemed in control the whole time, but the speed had still been unnerving.
He opened my car door and helped me out, shielding my body with his as we crossed the sidewalk to the restaurant entrance.
“Shit,” he cursed under his breath.
The place was deserted, the lights off. The sign on the glass door was flipped to closed.
It was six in the evening. The restaurant should be open and packed with patrons. My stomach turned with anxiety, and I noted that Joseph’s fingers shook slightly as he found the right key attached to the car keys. He slid it into the lock on the front door, and we stepped into the darkened space.
