Re: Venetian penthouse: Sam & Cris
"I don't think I could do it, yeah? I mean, my family is-" She stopped, because even with the sedation she wanted to make it so he didn't hate everyone she was related to, yeah? And she had the sense to know that he easily could do that easily or whatever, because the cop thing, and because he was moral in a way her 'rents weren't. "It isn't any of the kids' faults, yeah? My 'rents sold them all of hella young, and no one got to pick their jobs. For me and Tess it was getting hitched, but for the boys it was shit like gangs and mobs, yeah? The version of Joey that was here, the hotel aged him back or whatever, but before he'd spent twenty years in prison for killing someone during an armed robbery. He was just a kid, yeah? The guy pulled out a gun and Joey got scared." She was whispering by the end, and maybe she shouldn't have used Joey as the example, but it was too late. She lapsed into quiet, fingers idly popping the bubbles that hovered along his chest. But she came back to it, yeah? To what he was saying. And maybe he was going to leave that whole thing about telling Neil where to put the gun, but she leaned up against him and kissed him anyway, guilt in the press of wet lips. "I'm sorry." And she meant that. She didn't mean lo siento; literally, she meant she was sorry he had to do that shit. She was so fucking sorry.
She closed her eyes for the kisses that led nowhere, and she knew better than to ask for more. And maybe that made her some kind of filthy slut or something, yeah? Even thinking about that shit when Joey was dead, but whatever. It was part of living, part of being alive, and if she didn't think about things because of a pharmaceutical haze she wouldn't think about much of anything at all.
But he scoffed a second later, and he nuzzled beneath her chin, and he told her to shut up; she laughed.
Iris was playing behind his eyes, though, and she could tell. Thoughts about her sister, and she waited as his jaw went tight. She dragged wet fingers there, along that muscle that gave him away every fucking time. "I don't remember," she said of time spent maybe reassuring Iris, and she really didn't. She was good with the sedation in the moment, but short-term memory was swiss cheese, and there were holes or whatever. She shook her head when he said he'd talked to Iris on the phone, but it was the mention of a kid that made Sam sit up in the water. Slosh, and pale pink nipples above the water, and her expression was confusion. "What the fuck? She didn't say anything about a kid. You're sure?" Family, it was a big thing or whatever, and a kid of Iris' was family.