32

I entered the room without knocking and found Tomy sitting in the armchair without a shirt, drinking whiskey straight from the bottle, his jeans soaked in blood. My father was standing, wearing gloves, removing a bullet from his pale friend’s shoulder as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Maybe it was.

"I looks bad," I commented as I approached.

"Not as bad as your face," Tomy grumbled, clearing his throat, seemingly unfazed by my father prodding him with a thick needle. "You need more training," he advised, his gaze distant.

"Shouldn't you let a professional handle this?" I asked, catching the pungent smell of blood before glancing at his ruined shirt on the white floor.

"Why ruin tradition?" my father said, making his friend laugh. "Are you guys okay?" he asked, meeting my gaze.

"I couldn’t do everything I wanted, but I think it was good," I replied, sitting on the arm of the plush sofa.

"I’m sure you’ll do better next time," he stated, focusing back on stitching up his friend. "And your face looks awful. You should spend more time training instead of with your new girlfriend," he accused, leaving me frozen in place.

Tomy lowered his gaze, and the silence became so tense it was almost painful.

"Done," my father announced, cutting the thread. He set the scissors on the coffee table and removed his dirty gloves before picking up his glass of whiskey.

"Girlfriend?" I asked slowly, the word feeling heavy on my tongue.

"I know you’ve barely slept at home since you got back. What’s her name?" he demanded, meeting my gaze. "And since you’re sleeping outside the complex, that means she’s not a Hebi," he added, sitting next to Tomy, who remained motionless.

"No," I answered after long minutes of not knowing what to say.

"Alright, but if you want to continue with this, you’ll need to bring her to Hebi. It’s too risky to be involved with people outside our life," he explained, crossing his legs.

I shot a discreet glance at Tomy. Even though he was my father’s best friend, he had never told him about my sexuality or that there had never been any girls.

"Do I know her?" my father pressed, pulling me from my thoughts.

"It’s not a girlfriend," I admitted, feeling my heart pounding and heat creeping up my back.

"That complicates things," he said, watching me.

"It’s him," I finally confessed. "I have a boyfriend," I revealed, seeing him hesitate with his glass inches from his lips.

Tomy cleared his throat and took a sip of his drink. My father just kept staring at me, digesting my sudden words.

"Since when?" he asked directly.

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to keep my focus on his eyes. I couldn’t back out now.

"Since I was six," I answered more firmly.

"Isn’t that the age when you met the twins?" he asked, frowning.

My heart trembled at his quick deduction.

"Yes, it is," I forced myself to say.

My father nodded and took a sip of his drink. I remained still, watching him swallow the alcohol with distant thoughts.

"So when I asked you to take care of Karma, you…" he trailed off, unsure of how to continue.

"Shin took care of her for me," I explained, but he showed no emotion, just kept studying me.

"And why are you telling me this only now?" he asked, swirling the drink in his glass smoothly.

"I don’t know," I confessed, forcing a sheepish smile. "Would it have been better not to tell?" I asked, diverting my gaze to his long fingers. I hated feeling like this.

"No, I’m glad you told me. I’m just surprised," he admitted, catching my gaze. "Her or him, it doesn’t matter to me. You need to bring him to Hebi," he returned to the topic.

The image of Matias wearing the black Lily jacket beside Gabriela flashed in my mind.

"I might not be able to do that," I stated uneasily.

"Then break up with him," he ordered without hesitation. He took another sip of whiskey and shot a glance at his friend, who remained silent, waiting to be ignored in the conversation. "If you want a boyfriend, find someone inside Hebi," he said more calmly, as if it wasn’t the first time he was advising his gay son to find a suitable boyfriend.

I clenched my jaw at the thought of being with someone from Hebi. I wanted Matias, and only him.

"Understood," I muttered as I stood up. "If you don’t need me, I’m going to sleep," I announced, heading for the door.

"Take care of those wounds," my father ordered, and I closed the door behind me.

Without telling anyone, I took one of the parked cars and drove to Matias’s apartment. I avoided the streets full of police from the previous night and took the longer route. When I entered the apartment, I took off my jacket and hood, feeling exhausted and wrecked.

"I wasn’t sure if you were really coming," Matias said, helping me with my clothes.

Surprised, I turned to him. He left my dirty clothes tossed in the corner, and I didn’t complain when he placed two white pills in my mouth. Matias was wearing a cotton tank top, his damp brown hair tousled.

"Drink this," he said, handing me a bottle of water.

I took a few sips before hugging him, seeking his warmth. I buried my face in the curve of his neck and pulled him tightly against me.

"I’m tired," I murmured sleepily.

Matias chuckled softly, making his skin vibrate, and I cursed myself for not being able to see his face. Without haste, Matias led me to his soft bed, and I groaned when he cleaned my wounds and gave me more painkillers.

"That will never happen again," I assured him in a hoarse voice.

Matias was sitting at the edge of the bed, finishing organizing the first-aid kit. I didn’t need to go into details—he knew what I was talking about.

"Do you think I was scared?"

"Not even a little?" I raised an eyebrow.

"It wasn’t my first time. That kind of thing doesn’t scare me anymore," he said, shrugging.

"Oh!" I murmured, surprised. It was hard to tell if he was lying. "I was scared," I confessed, diverting my gaze to the ceiling, confused by my sudden honesty.

"Were you?" Matias murmured back, searching for my gaze.

"I’m not saying it again," I retorted, stealing another smile from him, and despite all the bruises, he was still breathtakingly handsome.

"You shouldn’t worry. I’m not stupid enough to die from a Hebi blade," he declared, turning off the bedside lamp.

In the darkness of the room, Matias lay down beside me, bringing his comforting warmth and familiar scent. I closed my eyes when his fingers intertwined with mine. His skin was rough and warm—it was enough to lull me to sleep.