"I'm addicted to you."

~

Stuck on You: Kapitel Vierundzwanzig

"I feel like utter shit," I ran a hand through my hair as I flushed the toilet, bile going down the drain. I brushed my teeth with the available toothbrush as I looked at myself in the mirror. It had been two days since my mother was killed right in front of me. I admitted that while she wasn't a good mother to me, a part of me still mourned for her. She was the best mother at some point and even if those memories were long gone and replaced with the ones of hate, I still grieved for her. 

Santiago's medical team cleaned me up in their underground vault just below the base of the syndicate. I couldn't go to the hospital because I couldn't explain how I got these wounds or what happened to the person who put them there. Like it or not, Santiago was a criminal, well-known or not. He was dangerous, utterly dangerous. He was beautiful, he was relentless, he was ruthless, he was intelligent, he was a killer. All of those reasons were proof that his very being was lethal. He may be just Santiago Luzardi, CEO of Masters, to everyone on the surface, but to people who weren't stupid and looked past what met the eye, they knew how malicious and cunning he could be.

Because then he was Santiago Luzardi, the godfather of the Zonglovia.

I thought I could get used to how dangerous he was. I really thought I could. Me, a man who was born to uplift justice and cruelty, was playing house life with someone who could kill an entire nation with the snap of his fingers. It went against everything I stood for. 

There were similarities between him and the Santi that I knew from long ago, but there were some things about him that had changed. He was able to pull the trigger and end someone's life without regard. He had this aura of a lurking panther, threatening, vicious, and wild. He didn't care who it was, he pulled the trigger. Life meant nothing to him and that was what scared me. Would he be quick to pull the trigger if it was Ivory? If it was me? What if it came down to the point where I had to sacrifice my love for him to keep my integrity as a lieutenant? 

"What's on your mind, Brad?" I had come out of the bathroom to sit on the bed. Someone was changing the bandages on my face and I winced as the cuts were exposed to air. "Careful, Kennocha." I hissed, the bright light burning my eyes. "And nothing," I murmured in reply, darting my eyes away but the capo caught me. "Are you scared of Santiago now that you've seen him actually kill a person?" I scoffed, not saying a word. She apparently read minds. Kennocha chuckled as she put some ointment on my wounds, the white of the room distracting me from the pain. "Listen," She said after a moment of silence. "I can't say I understand your feelings because I don't," She stated. "Boss isn't a bad person. He only kills when he's been wronged by his enemies. He's not stone-cold like you think he is, he actually has a heart. You may not see it," Kennocha continued to talk and I frowned.

"But his heart is reserved for only you." 

My eyes widened as she finished bandaging me back up. I didn't have many wounds as I thought I did. Genevieve mainly slapped me the whole time because she thought she would leave the torturing to later.

"I'm surprised that you guys didn't die in that car," She traced the edge of a knife against my throat and I hissed, my left eye swollen shut from her earlier punch. While I was unconscious, she had kicked me brutally, banged my body against the floor among other things, so when I came to, I was hurting like a bitch. My body throbbed all over and it felt like I was hit by a car. She had me bound to the chair with tight rope and I could feel my circulation cutting off. Blood was trickling down my temples, sticky and wet like slime as my brain pulsated from within my cranium. 

I couldn't move a thing. All I could do was sit there and let her beat me. She had on several rings so whenever she punched me with a fist full of fire and rage, I felt the gold embedding itself like a scar into my face. "Why do you hate me so much?" I managed to squeeze out through my tight and closed throat. I was sure that it was bruised and raw. I couldn't see anything because my eyes were swollen and filled with blood. My voice was probably low and filled with pain and sorrow. It probably cracked several times as my eyes started to water. I just wanted to know why she hated us so much, why she deliberately waited for so long to kill me. 

Genevieve paused in her actions, looking down at me with hate-filled eyes and her hand raised in a fist. She had a sneer on her lips, from what I could tell, and she seemed undeniably vengeful. From what I could see, the wedding ring that my father gave her still sat on her fingers. I didn't know how she got it, considering that she was in jail for a long time, but she never took it off. She started to laugh evilly, shaking her head as she used her free hand to yank my head back by my hair. "I have no reason, dear son," She sounded utterly menacing like she wanted to crush my skull beneath her feet.

"I just do."

I snapped my head back to reality, willing myself not to cry. The only mother that I had ever known hated me. I had no clue if it was because I was gay or if it was because I was intersex. I had no clue, but both of those things, I couldn't help. I hated her, I really hated Genevieve Thorpe, I did, but I craved for the touch of a mother. When I was younger and my dad used to work all the time, she would make my favorite food and read me my favorite bedtime stories. 

Is it bad that I missed that?

But it was no use now because she was dead. 

Because of Santiago.

I clenched my hands, blood rushing to my palm as I let out a sigh of frustration. "I think you underestimate how much love he has for you, Brad," Kennocha reached around me to help me down from the bed. "If he didn't have to kill your mother, then he wouldn't have." I darted my eyes to her. "Then why did he?" I folded my arms, heart twinging in pain. I should be hopping with joy that the bitch was dead, but I had so many unanswered questions. "He had a reason to," Kennocha smiled gently at me and I was taken aback. "She was hurting you."

My eyes widened as I stared at her, her words marinating into my head. Santiago may be dangerous, but he had one weakness.

"Do you understand now?"

I let a small smile course my lips as I nodded, all negative thoughts vanishing into the air. "Yea," I replied. Santiago may be more destructive and ferocious than the flames of fire, he may have that allure about him that makes death look beautiful, he may be darkness in its true form, hidden but strong. 

But even so, I couldn't leave him.

She helped me slip on a shirt as I cracked my back, pain from the wounds leaving my body. "Do you think that you can take me to see your boss?" I tilted my head as Kennocha grinned, nodding gleefully. Her light eyes twinkled in mirth as she grabbed onto me, dragging me along as she hummed to some pop song. When we came to the glass elevator, there were two men guarding it. "Stavos, Johan, thank you," Kennocha said and the men in black saluted her before allowing us to step onto the contraption. 

"You'd be surprised at how much Pate talks about you when you're not around," Kennocha pressed her nose against the glass as it moved between floors. "Hm? What's that?" I murmured as she turned to me. "Boss is going to marry you, I call it now." She raised her hand up in the air and I rolled my eyes, leaning my warm body against the glass. "You really think so?" I arched a brow at her, just wanting to be in his arms as he held me, the pain vanishing under his cool touch. "You practically already are. You just need rings to solidify it." I looked down at my left hand, seeing no such thing there.

"I don't believe that there's anyone in the world who can make him happier than you can."

I tilted my head.

"Hey, Kennocha," I murmured, the cool glass soothing my sores on my face. I looked like I got beat up by a sumo wrestling baby. "You, you don't think that Santiago will ever someday see me as an enemy?" I whispered as the car came to a slow stop, the doors opening on the designated floor in which Santi was on. "I just don't want it to come to a day where he feels like he has to pull the trigger on me," I let out a sigh, my troubles piling forth. I didn't know where this was all coming from or why I was thinking about it now, after everything was already done and gone.

I never got my heart back from him and this time, it looks like I never will.

"Anthony."

I heard a deep and sharp voice and I flicked my tired gaze over to the man standing in front of the elevator, arms folded and cocoa eyes burning with fire as they stared me down coldly. Shit. I hadn't meant for him to hear that. Kennocha shot me a look of pity as she ushered me along, gently handing me to Santiago. "Thank you, Kennocha." Santiago grunted out as she nodded, running along to do her duties. "Santi—" I went to speak but he put a hand up. I could see the hurt on his face as he grabbed my waist.

"Let's go." He didn't even look at me as he hoisted me up into his arms. "You need time to heal." His voice was void of all emotion as he held me in his arms bridal style. My heart thumped as I registered the pain in his eyes. Shit. Why did I say that!? I knew it was probably not wrong of me to think that way, considering his lifestyle was just dumped on me and I had to swim through it to see the bigger picture, but it was unfair of me to judge Santiago. Especially when he had done so much for me.

It was the summer of '06, and we were in the backyard of my house, swinging around in a hammock that we shared. The sun was shining on us as a cool breeze wafted through the air, soothing us of our worries. 

"Anthony?" I turned my head on the shoulder of the owner, flicking my gaze up to him as he spoke. His arms were around my waist, hands resting on my hips as if they belonged there. This was nothing unusual for us, but it made my heart flutter because I saw more into it. I saw a future. "What is it, Santi?" I replied as his brown eyes flicked to me, lips quirking softly as his hand reached up to push the hair out of my eyes. I blushed softly as his free hand tangled in my hair, rubbing softly at the locks. 

"Have you thought about what is that you want to do with your life?" He asked as we swung back and forth, ignoring all things around us. "Hmm," I ignored the tracing of my hip with his finger as I put a hand up to my chin. "Well, I do want to go to Columbia University, so that means I need to work extra hard. I want to go for criminal justice so that I can become a cop. Who knows?" I shrugged casually, knowing that I had dreams higher than that. "Maybe I'll work my way up the ranks." I looked up at the blue sky, birds chirping around us as we relished in the comfort of each other.

"What about you?" I asked and he smirked. "I've always wanted to become a lawyer, so there you go. It looks like our jobs will go hand in hand so there will be no need for us to ever stop talking to each other.

"Another thing, Anthony," I didn't look at him but I hummed for him to keep talking. "No matter what happens in the future, no matter what routes we take, promise me that you'll never give up on me." His voice was raw with emotion and it was baffling me because I had no idea where it was coming from. He had never seemed so serious before. But nonetheless, I nodded with a smile on my face. "There's no way in hell that I would ever give up on you." I flashed my eyes to the clouds, finding comfort in him.

"Good." He seemed content with that answer as he ran a hand through his hair, tugging at it as he followed my line of sight, resting on the clouds as we swung back and forth.

"I promise that I'll always protect you. You can count on that." 

Santiago set me down in his bedroom gently, not having said a word the whole walk here. It was only five minutes, but it felt like sixty. He didn't even look at me nor speak to me, and I could the clench of his jaw as his nostrils flared with every sharp breath he took. 

He moved away from me when I went to grab onto his arm, shaking his head. He was tense and rigid. I internally slapped myself for making him feel this way. It was my harsh words that changed the outcome. It wasn't that I didn't trust him but I was too fearful of what could happen. 

"Have I," Santiago spoke, standing near the door as his hands trembled. His voice was cold and hard and I could tell that it was taking so much to hold himself back. "Have I ever given you any reason to doubt my words?" He didn't make eye contact with me but with his hands. He looked down at his hands as if they held the answer to everything. "No," I replied, giving him the true answer. "Have I ever strayed away from anything that I told you, how I would stand by your side if you gave me the chance, how I promised to do right by you, no matter what?" He fumed, his voice clipped and curt as he squeezed his hands into fists, wanting to punch something.

I was ashamed.

"No."

He waved his arm back and forth in a stagnant motion, biting his lips to keep his anger from spilling out. Damn, I fucked up. "I seriously cannot believe that you think so damn low of me," He was quiet, not looking me in the eye. I could feel the intensity of his utmost wrath as he cracked his neck, hurt underlying his words. He was so hurt, that I could tell. I fiddled with my fingers, trying to find the right words to say. He stood there at the door, quiet as he could be, thoughts running through his mind as his lips quivered.

Then he spoke.

This time, he turned his seething scrutiny on me, brown boring into green. I couldn't help but take a large gulp when I saw the tears in his eyes. They were small, but they were there. "Do you realize how much I fucking love you!?" He spat, eyes mulling over with fiery rage as he snapped at me. I flinched at the sheer vigor of his voice. "Do you have any fucking idea how far I would go for you!?" My heart was beating slowly in my chest, my lips moved in a frown. I wanted to reach out and pull him into my arms, letting him know that I was sorry. I couldn't do anything but stand there as he unleashed his true feelings. "I do," I didn't know if these words would mend the situation or if they served as a catalyst. "That's the thing," He smirked humorlessly, chuckling as he came to an earth-shattering realization.

"I don't think you do."

Then he turned around and walked out of the room, leaving me in a pit of despair.