Page 3 of Alessio

But that was good, too.

Partly.

Why should Alessio be the only one to hurt?

He wouldn’t be alone.

He needed to get his shit figured out before he went back for a second round. He didn’t want to keep cutting into Corrado. As much as he hurt, it wasn’t fair he continued hurting Corrado, too.

Because he loved.

He gave a shit.

He would have never done this to Corrado.

Ever.

“You tell him you’re safe,” Cree said, “so he doesn’t do something fucking stupid, and make a scene.”

“He knows, and he won’t do anything. Relax.”

“No, he—”

“He knows—shit he doesn’t understand is what bothers him. That’s Corrado, and it sounds like something he should deal with because I can’t fix it.”

A lot about this thing between him and Corrado couldn’t be fixed by him. Too much shit had been left unsaid for years, and other things they shoved under a rug, ignoring while they pretended to be fine with the things between them.

All lies.

White lies didn’t stay white when they became dirty with time.

“Les—”

Typically, he had more patience, especially with Cree or Dare, and yet he only wanted to hang up the phone. So, he did, not even bothering to say goodbye before he reached over and hit the End Call button on the lit up screen, ending the conversation whether Cree wanted that or not. He would pay for the decision later, but … worth it.

With the phone call finished, and the conversation over, Gian turned in his chair to give Alessio his attention. Respectful, always. Never imposing or intruding unless they gave him no other choice.

“How much longer do you want to stay here?” Gian asked.

Alessio shrugged. “Not sure.”

The answer didn’t seem to bother Gian when he only nodded. “All right, you’re more than welcome.”

“Thanks. Shouldn’t you be sleeping? Doesn’t your wife get prickly when you walk the halls at night.”

Gian grinned. “I have things on my mind.”

“Me, too.”

“Probably similar things.”

Alessio scoffed and looked away from the man. “Doubtful.”

“Don’t. I have always worried about the two of you. I wouldn’t be a good father otherwise.”

“You’re not my father.”

Gian cleared his throat, but Alessio refused to take his gaze off the line of trees in the distance. “And yet, that never made a difference, Les.”