Page 3 of Complications

The stairs led us into a foyer, all traditional wood banisters and plaster walls. I wasn’t an expert in houses, but even I knew this wasn’t anything like Ralphie’s shitty apartment or my uncle’s craptastic trailer. This place screamed money and elegance. I hoped like hell I’d figure out a way to recover and complete my duties. After seeing how quickly they took out Ralphie, I had no delusions about my odds of making it out alive.

The still unnamed man emerged from the direction of the elevator sound and stopped directly in front of me. I didn’t dare look up at him, so I studied his shoes instead. The shine was enough that I could see the reflection of the hall. When my dad was alive, he polished his dress shoes every Saturday night, and I loved the smell. He’d sit in his recliner while I sat next to him on the floor. He’d kept all the supplies in a little wooden box. My job had been to hand him the polishes, rags, and waxes. That box was gone now, along with everything else.

Here to serve. Shut your mouth. Here to serve. Shut your mouth.

I kept my eyes downcast. If I’d learned nothing else, it was that looking people in the eye was a guaranteed way to get knocked around. That lesson took more than a week to sink in. Unfortunately, standing here made the ache in my side much more pronounced. I hoped he didn’t notice my gritted teeth or unintentional listing.

“Follow me.”

He turned and headed through double wooden doors that slid into the walls. I thought they were called pocket doors, but I wasn’t sure and definitely wouldn’t ask. He’d already situated himself behind the imposing desk flanked by a wall of books and electronics. He had three monitors set up, although all were black at the moment, and a stack of reports sat on the corner of the desk.

With a sigh, he stood back up and removed his jacket and cufflinks, which he dropped on a little plate on his desk. The ping seemed unnaturally loud in the silent room. His shirt was already unbuttoned at the top, but now he rolled up his sleeves. I wasn’t sure what to do, so I remained rooted right where I was in front of his desk.

“Connor, what’s your last name again?”

“Higgins, sir.”

“How do you know Ralphie?”

“My Uncle Jasper plays poker with him and lost. Ralphie said he needed someone to help around his house, and my uncle said I could work it off for him.”

“Did you want to?”

“No one asked me.”

The man lapsed into silence. He steepled his fingers and tapped them against his lips. I was too nervous to speak, so I remained silent and continued to study the floor. My side felt like it was on fire, but I steeled myself not to sway, moan, or do anything to make myself look weaker than I already was.

“What did you do for Ralphie?”

“I tried to cook and clean for him the way he liked. He was very particular, and, um, how he wanted it done changed. A lot.”

“Did he do that to your face?”

“He warned me. I should’ve listened to his instructions more carefully.”

“Did Ralphie ever hurt you sexually?”

“No. I think he was straight, but he got off on hurting me. It wasn’t sexual.” There wasn’t a reason to mention his offhand threats to have someone else hurt me in that way.

“Do you have any questions for me?”

“No, sir.”

The man returned to quiet contemplation before suddenly rapping the table twice. My head jerked up at the sound, and I realized his chocolate-brown eyes were staring at me. Staring wasn’t the right word. It was more like his eyes bore into my soul, and I wasn’t sure if he meant to devour me or kill me. Possibly both.

“How old are you? And I want the absolute truth.”

“Twenty-four.”

The man fell back against his chair with a sigh. I was almost certain I heard a quiet “Goddammit” before he said, “As it turns out, I need a houseboy.”

CHAPTER THREE

Matteo

I knew this was a dumb fucking idea, but I also knew I was absolutely going to run with this dumb fucking idea. Connor was trying hard to keep himself upright, but he was losing the battle fast. I wasn’t sure he realized how much he’d started to sway. My immediate urge was to get anything that had belonged to Ralphie off him because I wanted only myself to have the privilege. Fucking dumb.

Those goddamn eyes of his were going to ruin me. Letting him into my home without a vetted clearance was the most foolish thing I’d done in years, and I’d be damned if I would regret it right now. There’d be plenty of time to prove to myself how I fucked up later. Right now, I needed to get him off his feet and get some food in him.