Page 4 of Complications

“I’ll give you the tour later. For now, you can get situated and start your work. Your job will be to provide for me in the house. If I don’t have time to find the report from a stack or make coffee, that’s on you. If I need it, you’ll do it. In time, you’ll figure it out before I need to ask.” Shit, Connor’s sways had gotten worse over the last minute and he had a ghostlike pallor. “We’ll discuss all this later, but I’ll show you where you’ll be staying.”

I came around the desk, intending to take Connor to a room where he could lie down. I didn’t know if the pain or his exhaustion or maybe just fear took him out, but his knees buckled. I caught him before he crashed into anything, but when I grabbed his torso, he let loose a blood-curdling scream. There was a chair next to him, so I lowered him onto it and raised his shirt.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

His entire torso was a mess of bruises, bulges, and abrasions. Ralphie was a piece of fucking shit. It was one thing to fight someone, but something else to torture someone for your own amusement. Priority one was figuring out how closely connected his Uncle Jasper was to Ralphie. Even in his current state, Connor struggled to get away and stand up.

“Sir, I’m fine, and I can work. I promise I can.”

“Pup, stop,” I ordered. My voice was harsher than intended, but it had the desired effect. Connor ceased his movements immediately. A trip to the hospital was out of the question, but I wouldn’t be satisfied until he received medical care. “You’re going to hurt yourself worse than you already are.”

“Please don’t send me to the houses. Please. I can do my job if I can catch my breath. I’m begging. Please don’t make me go there. I’ll do anything you want.” Connor’s voice cracked and the fear in his eyes was unmistakable.

“What are the houses?” At some point, my hand had tangled in his curly hair. The tears in his captivating eyes made them look brighter than before. “Whatever they are, you’re not going to them. You’re staying right here, pup.”

“The houses,” Connor gasped out, “are where Ralphie said I was headed because I was a shit houseboy. I tried to do what he said, but he changed the rules every day, so I never knew what they were, and then he’d get mad when I guessed wrong.”

I wished like fuck I could have been the one to put a bullet in that piece of shit.

“You’re not leaving,” I repeated, hefting Connor from the chair and striding out of the room with Frankie, my bodyguard, right behind.

I had intended to install him in the room that adjoined mine. However, once I had him in my arms, I knew that shit wasn’t going to happen. I stopped at my bedroom door. Frankie opened the door for me and hurried forward to pull back the covers on the bed.

“Call Doc and tell him to bring the x-ray machine,” I murmured to Frankie.

He gave an abrupt nod and left the room. I sat Connor on the edge of the bed, tossed the blanket he still wore on the floor, and then did the same to the slides. That shit was getting burned.

“I’m fine. I’m fine. Oh my God, I still don’t even know your name.” Connor sounded panicked at his realization.

He started to fight me, which did nothing but cause him to take a sharp breath and let out a pained mewl. I eased him back onto the pillows and smoothed his hair off his forehead. The coolness didn’t reassure me.

“Shh, pup, it’s Matteo. My name is Matteo Leone. The doctor needs to come and make sure you’re okay.”

Connor looked so small lying on my bed. His pallor was sickly white, with only his cheeks flushed pink. I traced a finger down his cheek, and he didn’t flinch. I wasn’t sure what it was about this boy, but some part of me recognized he had the potential to be important to me. Fuck, he already was.

Most of my relationships were voluntarily transactional. All parties knew it was about getting off, and no one had delusions of it being about love. Some were for a weekend, and some for a few months, but all eventually ended. When someone got bored—usually me—I gave a thank-you gift and walked out the door. It was painless and quick.

I damn sure hadn’t installed anyone in my home. Now that I thought about it, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d even invited a hookup into my home. Hotels were less messy and more discreet.

“Boss, Doc said he’s on his way. He’s across town, so his ETA is about thirty minutes. He said not to give the kid anything until he gets the x-rays done,” Frankie said in a low tone.

Connor’s eyes were closed, but it was hard to tell if he was sleeping or had passed out. My fingers trailed over his high cheekbones, dusted with freckles. His straight nose turned up at the very end and his lips were full and soft-looking. In better circumstances, they wouldn’t be drawn tight with grimace lines framing them. Every whimper he uttered made the rage in me worse, but there’d be no answers and explanations until he could breathe without pain.

“Matteo, what happened?” Michel Laurant asked when he entered the bedroom, escorted by Frankie.

Michel provided private medical care for those who demanded absolute discretion. We’d gone to college together and had known each other for years, but even I didn’t know who else he cared for in the city. He approached where I sat next to Connor and whistled low.

“Goddamn. Someone did a number on his face. And more than once.”

Michel set his bag on the nightstand, then chuckled at my growl when he leaned forward to pull up Connor’s T-shirt.

“Simmer down, Teo. I’m not doing anything but what you asked me to do. I’m not going to steal your boy.”

“He’s not my boy.” In unison, Michel and Frankie snorted at my declaration.

“Careful, Frankie, I can fire your ass.”

Frankie straight-up laughed. He knew there was no damn way I’d ever get rid of him. He and I grew up together. His father had been my father’s bodyguard.