Page 72 of Taken In Trade
“Here, just try half.” Moretti brings one of the gummies to his mouth, biting it in half. He swallows part and offers the rest to Vanessa.
She takes it but examines it rather than eating it.
He tosses one to me and presumably one to Hawk, but the enforcer is behind me, so it’s only an educated guess.
I give it the sniff test—it definitely smells like a weed gummy—and take it. It has an artificial tart raspberry flavor lined with the earthy undertones all edibles have.
It’s not bad.
“I can’t take this when I’m on duty,” Hawk growls, and Moretti raises a hand, catching the gummy.
He offers it to me, and I take it.
I probably should have asked what the dosage was, but if nothing else, I’ll munch out when we get back to Moretti’s mansion.
“Did you just take two?” Vanessa asks, peeking at me over her shoulder. “Holy shit. Is that safe? Can you overdose on weed?”
I snort.
“He’ll be fine.” Moretti chuckles. “Possibly extra hungry, but with his size, he took a reasonable dosage.”
Damn, she has been sheltered in a lot of ways.
“You’ll enjoy it,” I murmur, nuzzling my cheek to hers from behind. “High sex is good sex. Every sensation is enhanced, and everything feels extra enjoyable.”
“I guess we’ll see,” she says, finally popping the gummy into her mouth.
I’m surprised Moretti is down with edibles. He seems too uptight to partake in any kind of relaxation, but it’s nice to be surprised once in a while.
Watching Vanessa curl up next to Moretti on the love seat on the wall opposite the bar leaves me feeling some type of way. She trusts him on some level, and I don’t think she’ll walk away with me, even once things settle down. Not unless he does something truly awful to her.
I’m not sure how I feel about that.
He’s hard to get a read on.
I had no plans to stay in Boston, and I’m still not sure how I feel about sticking around. At the same time, my instincts riothardwhen I consider leaving. Even thinking about dipping out on Vanessa leaves a sour taste in my mouth.
Goddammit.
This wasn’t what I was expecting to happen when I came to Boston. I thought maybe she’d come with me. We’d travel, having fun for as long as it lasted, but I get the feeling that Vanessa has been disappointed a lot in her life.
Fucking weed.
This is why I prefer uppers.
I never get emotional and contemplative after doing a line.
Moretti sees a congregation of visitors that come in, one by one or in small groups. From the bits I gather, he’s addressing issues on a community level.
Who the hell knows why he has them come into his club when he could do this shit somewhere more reasonable, but I’m not the boss. Maybe he’s hoping they’ll stick around and have a drink, thus contributing to his profits.
Seeing that he cares enough to meet with his people kinda makes me hate him.
Ziggy—one of the enforcers I met at Moretti’s mansion—escorts the last couple away and comes back, squatting next to his boss’s side.
Moretti nods, and his eyes meet mine.
Great…
