“No. No.” Dom sighed. “I’m sorry. Just… there was some shit out on the water today, and I…” He swallowed. “I’m just glad you weren’t tangled up in it.”
Sergei was quiet for a moment. He looked down at their hands, and his thumb ran alongside Dom’s. “I’m sorry. You came here tonight for something a lot more enjoyable than—”
“I came to see you.”
“Not like this.”
“I’m not complaining.”
“I am.” Sergei shifted. “This is bullshit.”
“Trust me. I’d rather be here than…” Dom trailed off, not sure how to fill in the rest of that thought without tipping his hand too far. Finally, he shook his head. “Anyway. I’ll stay as long as you need me to. God knows you’ve been there for me lately.”
Sergei studied him. “All I’ve done is sleep with you.”
“You’d be amazed how much I need that.” Dom gazed at their hands. “Being with another man like this, it’s…” He sighed. “I guess I feel like I have to get it as far out of my system as I can.”
“It doesn’t work that way, you know.” Sergei drew slow arcs along Dom’s hand with his thumbnail. “The more you have, the more you want.”
“I know. But I’d rather experience it than get married and spend the rest of my life wishing I’d spent more time with a man.”
Sergei gently freed his hand and pulled the oxygen mask down.
“You need to keep that on,” Dom said. “The doctor—”
“I know what he said.” Sergei moistened his lips and took Dom’s hand again. “Listen, we both know what happens if the people in your world find out about this. And all you’re doing is torturing yourself. Or guaranteeing yourself a lot of torture in the future when you can’t have this anymore.”
Dom nodded. “Yeah, I know. And maybe I’ll regret it later, but I’m not ready to walk away from it yet.”
Sergei held his gaze. “Can I ask something kind of personal?”
“If you put that mask back on, yes.”
Sergei laughed. He pushed the mask over his mouth and nose again, and as he took Dom’s hand, said, “Happy?”
“Yes.”
“So, I’m curious…” Sergei paused. “We both know what you are. I’ve known since the night you got beat up outside my club.”
Dom shuddered at the memory.
“Why?” Sergei asked.
“Why what? Why did they kick my—”
“Why do you do it?” Sergei’s brow furrowed. “Is it… I mean, I get that you’re in it because of your family, but how do you do it? How do you live with…?”
Dom let out a long breath and stared at their loosely entwined fingers. “It’s the only life I’ve ever known.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Dom wanted to say it was the only answer he could give, but that was bullshit, and he swore Sergei’s piercing blue eyes saw right through him anyway. Why lie? Hell, there was probably no one on the planet he could be honest with about this, and with time running out, there was no point in wasting the opportunity.
“Like I’ve told you before,” he said finally, “if I could walk away from this life, I would. And it just kills me that…” Dom swallowed, his throat aching. “Sometimes boys come to us, and they try to get recruited. The Sicilians want to get made so bad they can taste it.” Shaking his head, he sighed. “These guys, they have a choice. They can do anything. And they want… this life.”
“So if you’re born into it, you have to…?”
“It’s…” Dom sighed. “It’s not that cut and dried. Most of us who are born into it stay in it, but for me…” He paused. “Like I said the other night, my father fucked up. He broke omerta and got several people killed. A few more went to prison because of him. The family almost lost everything. My uncle almost lost his power over it because they thought he was unfit to run the organization. Being related to my father and all of that. They thought the genes were defective, and that anyone who was actually a Maisano was a narc waiting to happen.”
“But your uncle is still the boss.”
“A lot of blood spilled to make sure that still happened,” Dom whispered. “Including my father’s. My uncle took me under his wing, especially after my mother died, and he told me in no uncertain terms that either I toed the line, or I’d wind up in the same hole my father was in.”
Sergei blinked. “Just for bowing out and doing something else with your life?”
Dom nodded. “There’s more to it than that, but the punchline is that everything I did was a reflection of my father, and it reflected on Corrado too. Becoming a made man, it was… it was survival.”
“Have you ever thought about trying to find a way out?”
“Every day of my life. But there isn’t much point.”
“If you weren’t part of it, what would you be doing?”
“I don’t know. I really don’t.”
“You don’t?”
Dom shook his head. “Can’t let myself think about it, or I’ll drive myself insane. I could spend all day fantasizing about things I could do if I weren’t a Maisano, but it won’t change anything.” With a shrug, he added, “So I don’t.”
“When were you made?”
Dom shifted uncomfortably. “When I was twenty-two.”
“Twenty-two?” Sergei’s jaw dropped despite the form-fitting mask. “Isn’t that, uh—”
“Young?”