Ranger - Jericho's Boys #4 - ch. 3 (Patreon)

Unedited/Unbeta'd. Seven and Enzo are bickering so loudly I can't ignore it.

There was evil.

 There was diabolical.

 And then there was his mother. 

Enzo took another slug of the expensive scotch in his etched crystal glass, then shook his head. He sat slumped in his seat at the back of Lost Eden. He could feel eyes on him. He wasn’t one to just sit around drinking. Whenever he came, he came to play. But not tonight. He’d already waved off no less than three boys who’d offered to play with him. But he wasn’t in the mood. He was too busy seething. 

He grabbed the bottle of Glenfiddich, popping the top and pouring another healthy shot into his glass. What the fuck was she thinking? What had he ever done to her? 

“What did I ever do to her?” he asked out loud as his brother dropped into the seat opposite him. 

Vincenzo Conti—Vince to those who knew him—raised a brow, flipping his own rocks glass upright before tugging the bottle from Enzo’s hand and pulling it towards himself. Enzo watched, expression sullen, as his brother poured a fingerful for himself, then gently slid the bottle to the center of the table. 

“So it’s true?” Vince asked. “Mom got Blackwood to hire him? Is that why you’re muttering to yourself like some lunatic conspiracy theorist?” 

Enzo ignored his brother’s snarky assessment, taking in his usual all black outfit. “I refuse to be talked down to by someone dressed like some mafioso in a bad romance novel.” 

“Right. I’m the one that looks like a criminal here,” Vince said, giving him a hard once over. 

Enzo glanced down at his maroon button-down with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, then to his black work pants. “I just came from work.” 

“With all that ink, you look like you’re planning a prison break, Michael Scofield.” 

Enzo snorted, snatching the bottle back and filling his glass despite the amber liquid in his glass still sitting untouched. 

“Come on,” Vince said. “Tell me what happened? I keep getting conflicting stories.” 

“Mom was mad at me so she got even by getting my one night stand a paid internship at my company,” Enzo said. 

“Since when does mom care about your bed buddies?” Vince asked. 

Enzo huffed out a breath, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Since he was one of Navarro’s kids.” 

“Jericho Navarro-Mulvaney?” Vince asked, shaking his head. “You can’t be serious. Why the fuck would you go after one of them?” 

“He came after me,” Enzo shot back. “He texted me. He propositioned me. It was only supposed to be a one night stand and now I get to look at him every day giggling at Owen Grayson.” 

“Who?” 

 “He’s the hotshot fucking attorney who’s office is across from mine. Rich, talented, hot and older, just how Seven likes them.” When Vince didn’t say anything, Enzo glanced up to find him studying him, a smirk on his handsome but annoying face. “What?” 

“You sound…jealous,” Vince said, amused. 

Enzo’s gaze darted to Vince’s. “What? No,” he said, maybe a little too quickly. 

Jealous. Yeah, right. He was irritated. Annoyed. Exasperated. But, jealous? Enzo didn’t get jealous. What was there to be jealous of anyway? Its not like Seven meant anything to him. They’d had one night together. One very hot night together. Fuck. 

“If you’re not jealous then why do you care who he interns for?” Vince asked, his smirk making Enzo want to punch him in his face. 

“Because I don’t need to watch their love affair play out across the hall from me like my own soap opera.” 

“Love affair?” Vince asked, chuckling as he brought his glass to his lips. After a small sip, he asked, “Why do you care who he falls in love with? You said you already fucked him once, right?” 

“Yeah,” Enzo said, defensively. “So what?” 

Vince nodded pointedly, like Enzo was making his point for him. “Yeah, exactly. What do you care who he fucks? What exactly is mom mad about? That you had a one night stand? That can’t be it.” 

Enzo closed his eyes with a sigh, letting his head fall back on the booth. “It wasn’t the one night stand. It was what came after.”

“Did you, like, blow him off or ghost him?” 

Enzo rocketed forward, slamming his fist on the table, making everything on the surface jump. “No, that’s the thing. He ghosted me. He let me fuck him and then just went completely radio silent for two weeks.” 

“Then when did mom get involved,” Vince asked. “Carli said the kid was crying in her office. How did he get there?” 

Crying? That had to be an exaggeration. Right? Carli was known to embellish like any other teenager. 

“I don’t think he was…crying. Not exactly.” 

Enzo knew he wasn’t explaining himself well but he didn’t want to tell Vince the whole truth. Though, he’d hear it eventually. Gossip flew fast and far in the Conti family. He was honestly surprised more of his family hadn’t tried to weigh in on this like it was any of their business. 

“What did you do that made him ‘not cry exactly’?” Vince asked.

“I made him an offer.” 

“I thought you said he ghosted you? Did he think you had ulterior motives when you reached out to him again?” Vince asked, sounding more like it was a rhetorical question. 

“He reached out to me. Literally sent me a ‘you up’ text in the middle of the night.” 

Vince raised a brow. “And how did you respond?” 

“I told him to try again,” Enzo said. “Then I ignored him for the night.” 

Vince tilted his head, studying Enzo’s face. “So you implied you wanted something more than a hook up from him.” 

“Well, yeah,” Enzo said. “And I did. I wanted a…contractually obligated relationship with a clear end date. I even offered to train him.” 

“Train him?” Vince echoed. “To what, exactly?” 

“To be my submissive.” 

“Wait,” Vince said. “He’s not even in the community?” 

“So what? Everyone starts somewhere.” 

This time it was Vince who looked exasperated, rubbing the back of his neck. “Let me get this straight. You used this kids request for another booty call to try and convince him to be your trained submissive but only for a set amount of time?” 

“When you put it like that…” 

Enzo spent the next fifteen minutes attempting to outline what he’d offered him. 

“You basically told this kid that you wanted a contractually obligated booty call who wouldn’t be mad that you had to cancel plans and you wanted him specifically because it would be convenient when you didn’t have to lie about what we do that’s outside the bounds of the law.” 

“I-I wasn’t trying to hurt his feelings,” he muttered, swallowing the rest of what was in his glass before reaching for the bottle. 

“Trying or not, you did,” Vince said. “And he’s one of Navarro’s kids? You know his best friend literally works for Mama at the restaurant. Why would you even play around with that? She takes those alliances very seriously.”

“I know,” Enzo huffed, this time slugging back his whole glass. “Like I said, I didn’t think it would like…offend him or break his heart or something,” Enzo said, feeling sorry for himself more than Seven. “He didn’t act like he wanted a relationship when we were together that first night. He’s the one who dragged me into bed.” 

“What was he supposed to get out of this arrangement, other than your dick?” Vince asked. 

Enzo rolled his eyes. “He said he wanted a Daddy? I offered to be that for him.” 

“He said he wanted a Daddy?” 

Enzo huffed out a breath. “Well, he called me Daddy. What else was I supposed to think? That’s how this started. He started it.” 

“That’s very mature,” Vince said, shaking his head. “But there’s a difference between just casually calling your fuck buddy Daddy and actually looking for a dominant. You know that. Did he express any interest in BDSM at all?” 

Enzo shrugged. “It didn’t exactly come up. But that night we were together. He was more than willing to let me be in charge. He liked being told what to do. He liked when I was a little rough with him.” 

“That’s almost anyone with Daddy issues,” Vince said, shaking his head. “That’s hardly a request to be trained as your submissive. A submissive you told in advance you planned on disappointing regularly.” 

“I didn’t mean it like that.” 

“Maybe not, but that’s what you offered him.” Vince frowned. “If you had just broached the subject when you were in bed together, this probably would have gone much differently. Instead, you got his hopes up and then cut his strings. And you did it in our mother’s restaurant. What the fuck, bro?” 

Enzo slammed his glass down with just enough force to make himself feel a little better. “You’re supposed to be on my side.” 

“Me?” Vince said. “Why? Because I own this club? Because I’m a dominant? Have you ever seen me take on a sub who hadn’t come here seeking a dom? No, because I don’t play with people who don’t understand what they’re getting into.” 

Enzo’s guts felt like they were twisted in knots. “I just wanted to…” 

“Wanted to what?” Vince prodded. 

“Nothing,” Enzo muttered. 

“Listen, you and I have two very different reasons for playing here. I do it because I enjoy it. You do it to keep people at arm’s length. And Mama knows this. We all know it. Somewhere deep down, you know it too.” 

Enzo rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure.” 

“If you like this kid so much, why not just ask him on a date? Try to have a real relationship with him? Its been a decade. Isn’t it time to move on?” Vince asked. 

Enzo grunted. Why wouldn’t people stop bringing up his past? “I’m not fit to be in a real relationship with anyone. I’ll only end up hurting them.”

Vince rolled his eyes. “Well, on the brightside, you already hurt him, so way to rip off the bandaid, I guess.” 

Enzo snorted, glowering at his brother. “You’re kind of an asshole.” 

“At least I’m not the asshole who has to work with the guy I asked to be my sugar baby,” Vince countered. “Talk about a hostile work environment.” 

“Yeah, for me,” Enzo fired back. “Why is nobody taking my side on this? You guys get he’s not a little kid right? He’s twenty-six.” 

“Compared to you, that’a baby,” Vince said. “Besides, its your own fault for choosing someone close to one of Mama’s favorites. She loves that Levi kid and loves having more access to Jericho himself. You doing a favor for Thomas has finally given her a closer personal connection with the Mulvaney family and she’s not going to let you fuck this up for her. She likes them.” 

“So this is…what? Punishment for seducing one of her…assets?” 

Vince stared at him like he was an idiot. “If you think she’s doing this to punish you and not to get you married off to someone of her own choosing, then you’re dumber than you look.” 

Enzo let his brother’s words sink in, then shook his head. “No way. She knows better than that. She knows I’ll never date anyone seriously again. I’m a permanent bachelor.” 

Vince’s mouth flattened into a hard line. “Bachelor? That word is so old-fashioned. It makes my skin crawl. Whether you think she’ll be successful or not, it doesn’t negate that she’s trying to play matchmaker.” 

“What do I do? Do I just try to make him so miserable he quits?” Enzo asked, stomach churning at the thought. 

“You have no reason to even interact with him. If you harass him, it will be you getting hauled into HR, not him,” Vince said. “Be smart about this. If you won’t try dating him, at least try to get along. Extend an olive branch. Apologize for insulting him and try to take him to lunch or something to smooth things out. Do not flirt with him.” 

Apologize? What if that just gave him false hope again? “What if it-” 

“You really over estimate your stock value,” Vince said, clearly reading his mind.

“How so,” Enzo asked, offended. “I’m hot, successful, rich, smart.” 

“You just described ninety percent of the men in your law firm. You’re not special. The kid wasn’t in love with you. He was just insulted. Be a man and apologize.” 

“Just like that?” Enzo asked. “Just ask him to lunch and apologize? You think that will really fix things?” 

“It will if you don’t try to put your dick in him again,” Vince cautioned. 

“Oh…right.” 

Why was that thought so depressing?

Vince huffed in exasperation. “You’re fucking hopeless. You’re already thinking about sticking your dick in him again.” 

“You haven’t seen the kid, you’d understand if you did.” 

“Don’t worry,” Vince said. “I’m sure I’ll meet him at the wedding?” 

Enzo’s head jerked up to stare at his brother. How had he missed that news? Or an invitation. “Wedding? Who’s wedding.” 

“Yours, dumbass.” 

###

Two weeks had passed since Seven started working at the firm. Two weeks of watching him pass Enzo’s window a hundred times a day. Two weeks of watching him flirt shamelessly with the paralegals, two weeks of hearing that loud cackle he called a laugh. It was torture. 

The first two times they’d met, Seven had worn baggy jeans and oversized hoodies that hid his hot little body underneath. Now Enzo was forced to endure him wearing fitted trousers that hugged every curve and button down shirts that showed off surprisingly muscular forearms. The labels on his clothes cost hundreds if not thousands of dollars. Had he already moved on? Was he someone else’s sugar baby now? 

Just the idea of it had him growling and tossing his clients folder across his desk. Someone cleared their throat, attempting to get his attention. Drucilla. She was, as always, impeccably dressed in a suit that made every other person in there look frumpy. She claimed she was dressing for the job she wanted, not the job she had. The job she had was being the assistant to the attorney’s on the floor, though her attitude implied they worked for her. 

Even the way she cleared her throat felt condescending. 

“What is it?” Enzo asked, warily. 

“Lordes wants to see you in her office at three,” she said. 

Lordes Fairchild was the co-founder of the firm. There was rarely an occasion for them to talk. “Why exactly does she want to talk to me?” 

“Who knows?” Drucilla said, her lip curling like she smelled something bad. “Maybe she wants to make you a partner or something. Haven’t they been threatening that for years now?” 

They had. 

Enzo didn’t really care about making partner. It would help to keep his family’s extracurricular activities hidden, but it wouldn’t increase Enzo’s already comfortable life. “Maybe. Just clear my calendar, move things around. Let me know if any clients give pushback.” 

“‘Kay,” she said, turning on her heel without so much as a goodbye. 

Enzo watched her leave before his gaze snagged on Seven. He was perched on the corner of another intern’s desk. He wore caramel colored khakis that were practically painted on and a creamy cable knit sweater with a zipper at the neck. His laugh cut through the office at whatever the other intern said, earning smiles from the others. They all loved Seven. 

Enzo’s insides burned as the two bantered playfully. He glanced down at the demand letter he was supposed to be drafting, then leaned back in his desk and ground his palms into his eye sockets, hoping when he removed them, Seven would have magically disappeared. 

He was surprised to find it worked. Seven was no longer at the intern’s desk or his own. Instead, he was sitting at Owen’s desk. Did he think it was appropriate to allow an intern to sit at his desk? Did he not see how it made them look overly familiar with each other? Maybe Enzo should invite Seven out before others start to get suspicious of Seven’s relationship with his new boss. 

He could feel the confused glances of the others in the bullpen of interns and paralegals. Enzo couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a reason to visit Grayson’s office. He didn’t knock right away, just lounged against the door frame waiting for Seven to notice him. 

When it was clear that wouldn’t happen without help, he forced himself to give a cheerful, “Hey.” 

Seven flinched, but didn’t otherwise acknowledge him. 

He knocked softly on the frame. “Hello?” 

“I have a name,” Seven muttered. “Though you probably don’t even remember it.” 

“Stanley wasn’t it,” Enzo teased, wincing internally when Seven gave him a scathing look. 

Right, Seven hated his dad. With good reason, it seemed.

“Sorry,” Enzo said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I come in peace.” 

“I don’t care how you come. I’m busy.” 

Was that meant to be as suggestive as it sounded? His dick clearly thought so. What was it about him that just drove Enzo crazy? 

Enzo realized he’d been too wrapped up in Seven’s accidental innuendo to acknowledge he’d spoken when Seven flicked those beautiful pale green eyes at him. “What do you want?” 

“I, uh, wanted to see if I could take you to lunch?” Enzo asked, cursing himself for feeling nervous.  

Seven snorted, returning to his work. “Why? Is there another sex contract you’d like me to sign?” he asked loudly. 

Enzo’s eyes went wide, jerking around to see if anyone had been within earshot. “Damn, kid. Why not just tell the whole office? Wanna put it in the company newsletter?” 

“Maybe,” Seven said, his tone deceptively conversational. “Letting everyone know what a douchebag you are, seems like a public service.” 

Enzo huffed out a humorless laugh. “Trust me, there’s not a soul in this building who doesn’t know what a douchebag I am. It probably was in the newsletter at some point.” 

Something felt floaty in his chest as he watched Seven fighting back a smile. It was gone as quickly as it came. 

He didn’t look up when he said, “I can’t. I have plans with Owen.” 

“Owen?” Enzo muttered. “Already on a first name basis? That was fast.” 

Seven tossed down the pen in his hand, leaning back to glower at Enzo. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

Enzo scoffed. “You tell me,” he shot back. “You did say that you called every hot, older man Daddy,” Enzo reminded. 

Seven sneered at him, crossing his arms over his chest. “Oh, you think Owen’s hot? Does his wife know? I thought you preferred hot younger boys with Daddy issues and financial trouble.” 

“That’s not-” 

“Should I ask Owen if you can join us?” he asked, making for his phone that sat screen down on his desk. “Or maybe you two would like to be alone?” 

Enzo blew out an exasperated breath, already exhausted. How had this gotten so out of hand so quickly? What was it about this kid that drove him crazy? Couldn’t Seven just cut him some slack.

“Can you please just…behave?” Enzo asked, tone almost pleading. “I’m trying to apologize to you.” 

Seven sucked his teeth. “Apologize? For which part? Treating me like a whore or trying to pay me like one?” he asked, his voice sullen.

Yeah, he’d definitely hurt Seven’s feelings. 

Fuck. 

Where had he gone wrong? Had he just misinterpreted when Seven wanted from him? Had Seven just wanted the occasional…what had he called it…maintenance dick appointment? A guy to have on standby to pound him into the mattress then forget until next time? Had Enzo violated some unspoken agreement between them without even knowing about it? 

Or was his mother right? And Vince. Had Seven wanted more from him? More than he was capable of giving? This was why he didn’t do relationships. Or have friends. When it came to the law, his instincts were impeccable. When it came to relationships, he was stumbling in the dark. 

“I just want to clear the air so we don’t feel weird working in the same office,” Enzo said. 

Seven shrugged. “I feel fine. Seems to me like you’re the one feeling some type of way about this.” 

 Enzo tried again. “It just seems like the professional thing to do since our paths are bound to cross frequently,” 

“Will they? Owen specializes in cyber crimes. You work in white collar crimes. It doesn’t seem like a lot of overlap. We can just avoid each other. Okay?” 

“Owen and I-” 

“What about Owen and you? Are you friends or something? Do you guys hang out and…do whatever old guys do?” Seven asked, arching a brow like he already knew the answer and wanted to catch Enzo in a lie. 

Enzo didn’t miss the dig about his age. The little brat. But Seven was right. He and Owen were not friends. They were barely coworkers. If anything they were rivals for making partner. 

“We’ve had dinner a few times,” Enzo hedged. 

Seven’s brows made a run for his hairline. “That’s not what he said. He said he couldn’t remember the last time you two were even alone in the same room together.”

Enzo felt like his heart stopped beating in his chest. 

“You asked about me?” he asked, unable to hide his smirk. 

Seven rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I wanted to know how often I’d be forced to endure your presence. He assured me our paths would rarely cross. Yet, here you are.” 

Was that really all it was? Why did Enzo even fucking care? What was it about this kid that was like catnip to him? Vince had told him not to harass him or he’d end up in trouble with HR. Or worse, their mother. 

“Fine. I’ll leave you alone. But I’m here if you change your mind. See you whenever, I guess,” Enzo said. 

Seven huffed out a humorless laugh. “Don’t look so dejected. You’ll see me Sunday.” 

That brought Enzo up short. “Sunday?” 

“Mm,” he said, tone smug. “You’re mom invited me to Sunday dinners. She invited my mom, too.” 

Sunday dinners. Plural. As in more than one. Jesus, his mother wasn’t even playing chess, she was playing Risk, attempting to unite two empires. What was she thinking? Sunday dinners were sacred. They were reserved for immediate family and a handful of close friends. His mother barely knew Seven. Did she? How often did they speak since she’d gotten him this job? Would she use Seven to spy on Enzo? Or was she just playing matchmaker? He didn’t know which was worse. 

She was clearly off her nut…or having some mid-life crisis. Didn’t she have plenty of other kids' lives to play with? Why couldn’t she marry off one of the others. Jericho had plenty of other kids to choose from. 

Just not Seven. If any of his brothers so much as looked at Seven in any type of way, Enzo would be the one needing an attorney. 

When he realized Seven was staring at him expectantly, he gave a jerky nod. “Oh, right. See you then.” 

Enzo forced himself to scroll back to his office like his head wasn’t spinning. But once inside, he flopped back into his seat and grabbed the remote to close his office blinds. Seven didn’t look up at him. Once Enzo was certain they’d closed, he let his forehead thump against his desk, once, twice, three times. 

He was about to do it for a fourth time when he heard Drucilla ask, “What are you doing?” 

“Meditating,” he told her, deadpan. 

There was a long pause before she said, “Sure, whatever. You’re two o’clock refused to reschedule to another day. They asked if you could meet for lunch instead?” 

Enzo sighed, forcing himself to raise his head and face her judgy pinched face. “Sure, why not. It’s not like I have plans.” 

“Okay?” she asked, like she wasn’t sure why that was pertinent information for her. “I’ll let them know. Where do you want to eat? Your mom’s place…again?” 

God, no. The last thing he needed right now was to see her. He was already in a weakened and susceptible state. She’d smell it on him and try to break him down. He and Seven would be engaged before dinner and married before dawn. He groaned loudly. 

“No, the Asian fusion place downtown,” he said. When she gave him another nasty look, he shrugged. “What? I just…have a craving.” 

“Cool,” she said with an epic eye roll. 

“Cool,” he muttered back, waiting until his door was closed to once again bang his head on his desk. With any luck, he’d give himself a head injury. Maybe it would help him forget about the bratty little shit across the hall and his own mother’s betrayal. 

How had things gone so wrong, so quickly?