He sputters a laugh. “Yeah. They weren’t abusive or anything, but I’d call them neglectful. We spent more time being raised by nannies than by either of them. And, yeah, we were close.”
He bumps his shoulder purposefully against mine as we walk.
“So, I left home, developed a drug habit, and basically died, and you were left to pick up the pieces?” My throat tightens as it really hits me how much he must have gone through during those years I spent lost in a drug haze, being used and abused by the Reapers.
“Yeah. I handled it super well though. I faked my own death, paid a famous hitman to turn me into a trained killer, and moved to Wildcliff to start murdering the Sleepless Reapers who I knew were with you the night you died. Or whoever died, I guess. Shit, did I murder the wrong scumbags?”
I choke on a laugh. “It doesn’t matter; they all deserve it.”
“They do,” he agrees solemnly.
“Can I tell you something?”
“Anything,” Sparrow says without hesitation.
“I hate how much it hurt you to think I was dead, but I’m glad that whoever you buried got a proper funeral. I’m glad he had someone to cry over his casket and mourn him. Most of them didn’t, and when I was lying there dying in that ditch, I didn’t think anyone would mourn me either.”
He reaches over and squeezes my arm briefly before letting go. “I’m glad too. Everyone deserves to be mourned.”
We’re both quiet for a few beats, and then the mood lightens inexplicably and we share a smile.
“Do you think vigilante murder is genetic or what?” I ask, and we both chuckle again.
“Could be. Xav let me know that Lorenzo approved our plan, by the way. So, once the time is right, we’re good to go.”
“Alessio told me. I’m keeping an eye on the group chat, so I’ll know as soon as they have a date for their next big blowout.” We both fall silent again and keep walking. “Shit, we’re like coworkers trying to find something to relate to each other about that isn’t work.”
“Shut up. No, we’re not. We’re brothers.” He bumps my shoulder again. “We just need to figure out what we have in common now aside from a lust for vengeance and hot mafiosos to play with.” He speeds up just a little and turns to face me, walking backward without breaking stride as a wicked smile spreads across his lips. “Alessio is such a sub, right? I have to know if I’ve been right about this whole Moretti inner circle.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “Thewholeinner circle?”
“Except for Salvatore, so far. I thought for sure his husband, Dante, was the Dom between those two, but it just goes to show, you can never be sure about somebody. I’m holding my breath to see if Lorenzo is in the sub club, but with Declan MIA and possibly dead, the world may never know.”
I know some of the names he just spouted, but that was a lot of gossip and information to get all at once.
“I’m going to need a hell of a lot of backstory on all of that.”
“See, there’s something we can bond over. These guys are more interesting than a soap opera.”
“I’m not sure it meets the requirement of not being about work though, does it? I mean, technically neither of us work for the Morettis, but still.”
“Fair enough. I’ll fill you in anyway.”
“Obviously.” I let out another laugh. “Can I admit something to you?”
“Of course you can,” he says again with a slightly exasperated chuckle. “You don’t have to keep checking in like that. Just say whatever’s on your mind. I’m sure I can handle it.”
I nod, and we round the corner to a more secluded section of the park, surrounded by tall trees with a long stone tunnel that the jogging path winds through. We stop right outside the tunnel, and I turn to face him.
“I’m itching to take out the Reapers once and for all, but I’m kind of fucking terrified too,” I confess. “For seven years, the only thing I’ve thought about is getting my pound of flesh from them and making sure no one else will suffer at their hands the way I have. I haven’t dated, aside from casual, pre-arranged encounters with subs I never played with more than once. I haven’t had a job other than breaking into penthouses to steal overpriced knickknacks. I don’t have hobbies or friends. I don’t know what I’m going to do with all my time once they’re gone.”
“Honestly, Spet, hard same.” Sparrow gives me a flicker of a grin. “I’ve been so fucking focused on revenge for so long that I don’t have the first fucking clue what I’ll do when I’m not constantly looking over my shoulder, watching for Reapers.” His eyebrows furrow and his gaze lingers over my shoulder for a few seconds. “Speaking of which…”
The hair on the back of my neck stands up.
Reaper? I mouth, and Sparrow nods, his gaze staying fixed just behind me, his body language subtly shifting from relaxed to alert in an instant.
He gives an inconspicuous tilt of his head towards the tunnel, his eyebrows going up an inch in a silent question. I smirk in response and start towards the tunnel without glancing in the direction of the Reaper. As soon as we’re in the shadows, I shrug my jacket back on so my hands will be free, and my brother does the same.