CHAPTER 1- LOVE IS A BATTLEFIELD
Therapy....
The thing you need to know is that Brian and I aren't like normal couples. Sure we have our ups and downs but we handle them... differently. It's not that we feel trapped-- often our jobs require us to be apart and lead separate lives. The problem is when we come together. Our arguments lately have consisted of space and silence-- no words, all actions. I could say that we've grown apart as many people do but that would be an outright lie. We're still the same... only we didn't know it. I guess for my part of this story, I should start at the beginning....
So here's the thing... I'm....VERY fond of my husband. Oh alright, I'll admit to loving him but ONLY to you. No, I don't tell him much, but I try to show it. Although that's been a little difficult to do lately. You see, I'm not much of a talker whereas he is and the space between us just keeps filling up with the things we don't say to each other. At first, it didn't bother me because I would just wish for him to shut the fuck up but now... Now it's become...tedious, a trial, a terrible existence. He's NOT my Sunshine anymore. He's cold...I mean the sex is still hot as hell but afterward he's...cold, distant, running off to work at all hours just...NOT Justin. I guess I should tell you what we were like before and then maybe you'll understand what I mean....
Justin walked into the Art Gallery where he was debuting his latest work. People were milling about everywhere as they often were at these sort of functions. His agent had set him up to be interviewed shortly after his arrival, which was a good thing. Although he was used to socializing with every walk of life, he couldn't stand it. There were always a bunch of sycophants desperate and eager to garner his attention, like flies flocking to shit.
Oft times he would find himself actually daydreaming about putting a bullet between the eyes of a particularly annoying critic or slitting the throat of some diva who thought she was better than everyone else in the room. But he didn't kill unless he was ordered to, and so he would endure the requisite hours of bullshit until it was time to get down to his real purpose for being in NYC on New Year's Eve. He was about to head over to his agent when his phone rang. Looking at the caller ID, he was most grateful for the distraction.
"Justin, just wanted to call you with the plan for the night," his mother said, her usually chipper voice in his ear. He would never understand how Jennifer Taylor remained so fucking happy in their line of work.
"Well what is it this time? Last minute trip out of town?"
She laughed. "No nothing like that, Son. It's that the target has changed somewhat."
"How? What?"
"Now there are three of them."
"What the fuck, Mom?" Justin breathed a heavy sigh, not at all happy with this turn of events. It was hard enough to get to former Police Chief Stockwell by himself and now she was adding people to the list?
"Justin...do NOT take that tone with me, young man. Not only am I your mother, but I'm your fucking BOSS too." Her voice suddenly became hard and he was reminded of a time when she was teaching him the rules of their trade. All of his trainers combined hadn't been as hard on him as his mother. It made for a very interesting dynamic between the two of them.
Justin snickered. "It's not like you're going to fire me. That would kill the whole ‘family business' angle now wouldn't it?"
"Smart ass," Jennifer responded. "Anyway, our contact has stated that there are going to be some people with him tonight that have been helping him move arms into the country. His cohorts have a monopoly on the drug market and runs the most lucrative dock here in the northeast. Sounds like an opportunity too big to ignore, Justin. Besides we don't know all of the details of the deal. It could be that he arranged for one or both of his friends to take over once you kill him. It makes sense to kill all three birds with one stone tonight."
Justin rolled his eyes. He had been tracking Jim Stockwell for almost a year but with the arms deal being set up on the New Jersey waterfront, he knew Gardner Vance, the owner of the dock, and Chris Hobbs, who brought the biggest amounts of Chinawhite into the country would be swarming around eventually...just NOT on New Year's Eve. "Great... so now I not only have to deal with Stockie but Gardner and Chris too. Who's taking care of Hobbs, senior?"
"He's being dispatched by another agency tonight."
"And the escape route?"
"Come on, Son," Jennifer said. He could hear the smile in her voice and wanted to laugh. He already knew what it meant.
He chuckled, he couldn't help it. "Right out the front door."
"You got it. And try NOT to make as big of a mess this time, will you?"
The last job had gotten messy indeed... the twenty-three people dead kind of messy. "If no one gets in my way, this should be easy. The last thing they'll be expecting is a stripper who really can dance and will entertain them even as he puts a period to their existence. Killing them clean won't be a problem."
Justin disconnected the call, already anticipating ridding the world of the three assholes the government had been trying to catch for years. The fact that they were paying his mother eight million dollars to see it done was good, but for Justin it was personal. He hated hypocrites and the three closeted men had made his, and millions of other lives, a living hell. It only seemed fitting that they should go to hell by the hands of an out and proud gay man.
Across the room....
"Cynthia, why the hell are we here again?"
She rolled her eyes as she looked around for Ronnie Davidson, whose gallery they were standing in. "I told you Brian, Ronnie's gallery is looking to expand and I suggested that she use Kinnetik for advertising."
"That would work well for me except that it's New Year's Eve and I could be at Therapy or some other gay club getting my dick sucked." He scowled at the passerby who had the audacity to look at him in both shock and disgust. "Instead I'm in this no-name gallery, looking at the artwork of a no-name painter, and being gawked at by a bunch of no-name nosy bastards."
"Justin Taylor isn't a no-name artist Brian. He's young, but his paintings have been selling into the triple digits since before he left high school."
Brian took a look at the nearest painting, admitting only to himself, that the work was exceptional. But that still didn't change the fact that he was there, instead of doing the job he was really in New York to do. He was trapped in a gallery full of people and not one of them was the target. He felt antsy to have the night over with, so he could beat a hasty retreat back to Pittsburgh before the sun would even think about rising.
He had received a call from Debbie just as he and Cynthia were leaving the hotel, advising that he needed to dispatch Samuel Hobbs posthaste. The latest word from her government contact suggested that the arms deal was about to be concluded, which would give some enemies of the state a foothold in the US.
"Send Ted, Deb. I'm busy tonight," he said when she concluded her explanation.
"No can do Brian, besides you're in New York, right?"
Fuck! There was just no use lying to her. "Yeah I am, but I'm working on Kinnetik business."
"All the more reason for you to do it Brian. Kinnetik gives you the cover you need to wipe fucking Hobbs off the face of the earth."
"Won't he be with his son and family tonight?" Brian questioned. "It is supposed to be a night of celebration after all."
"It will be... for his wife. Brian, she's the one who ordered the hit." Debbie cackled through the phone. "Apparently the last place he stuck his dick was into a spy from who-the-fuck-knows-where but his WIFE is one of the higher-ups in the State Department."
"All's fair in love and war, huh?" Brian snickered.
"Pretty much, smart ass. So since you're in New York, it makes sense that you get the job done. As for Ted, he's on assignment elsewhere."
"Where?"
"A place called none of your damn business. Call me when you're done with Hobbs. Hopefully Ted will be back by then. He's the best cleaner we've got and for this I'm sure we'll need the best. I'll text you the information about where Hobbs will be later tonight."
Brian sighed heavily. "Fine, just make sure that all is in order, okay."
"Don't I always? Besides, there's an all-night poker game where he's supposed to be. Another incentive for you to get your ass in gear and toast the ass of that son of a bitch."
Debbie knew and understood Brian's occasional foray into gambling. Once a year...on New Year's Eve, Brian always took part in some form of gambling. He had told Debbie once that it was like his luck was strongest on the last night of the year and it made the first day of the year feel more optimistic when he won. Brian never really thought about the tradition much except that his father used to say something like the luck of the Irish was always strongest and tied into one important day or another. In Brian's world, the start of the New Year was always that day.
"All right Deb, I'll call you when it's done." He disconnected the phone and began the tedious evening of a gallery opening.
Shifting his focus back to the present, he put on his most passive face as Cynthia pointed out that Ronnie was on her way over with the young artist. Brian couldn't help but stare at the beautiful young man. His golden blond hair stood out like a beacon and was a little on the long side. His face couldn't be called handsome, but pretty and delicate looking. What arrested Brian the most was that the same assessment he'd been performing on the young artist, the boy was returning in kind.
The moment their eyes connected, Brian felt as if he couldn't look away. The instant heat between them was palpable and he could hear his own heartbeat drumming in his ears. The lithe young body glided steadily toward him, pulled almost by some magnetic force, even as people constantly tried to get the artist's attention. If Brian was captivated, then so was Justin. When Ronnie had approached him and asked if he would come with her to meet the representatives from Kinnetik, Justin had no idea what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn't the magnificent man before him.
He was tall, with a physique that Justin immediately knew he wanted in his bed. Justin made no secret of letting his eyes traverse the classic and elegant appearance of the man, from his auburn hair, down the fine fabric of the Armani suit he was wearing, and the Prada shoes completing the ensemble. Yeah, Justin was a label queen, and he'd never seen any of the items look better than they did on Mystery Man. Instantly Justin's gaydar pinged-- it was more like blaring sirens-- and Justin couldn't have been happier.
"Hey, how's it going?" were the first words the man uttered to him.
Justin let the voice slide through his body, awakening senses he usually deadened upon entrance to these events. He was never interested in any of the patrons who frequented openings, although they were always sexually interested in him. "It's going pretty well. Everything is almost sold out, so I'd say it was a good night," Justin said, proud that he was able to play it cool, regardless that his insides were shaking.
"I guess I should introduce myself. I'm Brian Kinney."
"Justin Taylor," he responded, extending his hand.
The instant attraction and awareness created a small shock in the palm of their hands, and they couldn't have broken apart in that moment if they tried. Justin's nostrils flared as he was assailed with the mixture of expensive cologne and an essence that was pure Brian. The sudden widening pools of hazel bored into him, creating a heat that Justin wasn't sure he would ever want to put out. He'd never believed in the phenomena of love at first sight, but he was assured enough in himself to know that this-- whatever he was feeling-- was much more than the lust he was accustomed to indulging. By all accounts, Brian felt the exact same way.
Swallowing hard, Brian asked, "What are you doing later?"
Justin boldly responded. "You."
"Good answer."
Justin chuckled in response. "I have another appointment after this but it shouldn't take very long. Perhaps we could meet at the Plaza around 2 am?"
"Sounds good," Brian said, staring into the bluest eyes he'd ever seen. He leaned in closer to whisper in Justin's ear. "Top or bottom?"
"I'll let you decide," Justin whispered back.
"Interesting. So you're versatile, then? " Brian laughed quietly, thinking how fortuitous it was that Cynthia basically strong-armed him into coming to the opening. By night's end, he'd be balls deep into the man in front of him.
"You have no idea, but you will," Justin assured, much to Brian's amusement and pleasure.
Justin knew he was being a cheeky little imp, but Brian made him feel wanton, and for the first time in a long while, his recklessness wouldn't have anything to do with being an assassin. It was a newfound experience-- one he was welcoming more and more the longer he stayed in Brian's company. They talked a bit more with Brian explaining the ins and outs of what a company like Kinnetik could do for the gallery. Justin told Brian of his graphic design business, which he did in addition to painting.
To anyone watching, the conversation would have looked commonplace and mundane, but to the participants it was riveting. Already they couldn't stop touching in some capacity. A finger grip here; a palm radiating heat there; a bump shoulder-to-shoulder or the eye-fucks given and returned. Connection--that's what it was, and both craved it like their next breath.
They reluctantly parted ways at the end of the gallery opening. Wishing each other a Happy New Year and solidifying their plans to meet at two, they set off in opposite directions to complete their ‘other' business.
Justin entered the hotel room, racing to get to the shower. He was hot and horny, but it had to be put off. First, he needed to get across town to the Trump Towers where he had a date with some very naughty boys requiring his services. Switching into the mode which kept him alive, he forcibly pushed all thoughts of the tempting brunet from his mind. Digging into his closet for one of his favorite outfits for this line of work, Justin donned the tight-fitting leather pants and even tighter light blue lycra shirt.
He wouldn't need his usual assortment of firearms for the night so he picked up the one gun he would take with him and threw it into the bag. His silver handled Desert Eagle was a jack of all trades. If he was lucky, he wouldn't have to use it but it was best to be prepared just in case. He sat on the bed to pull on his boots, making sure he had everything to complete the task. The idiots had requested a dance rendition to Marcy Playground's ‘Sex and Candy'.
Justin almost laughed aloud when Jennifer had told him that it was one of Stockwell's favorite songs. Justin picked up the CD uttering "Music to die by" as he placed it alongside his gun. He also made sure that his set of jeweled pocket knives were handy. He would be using his favorite one, which looked no bigger than a standard safety pin but when stuck into the jugular vein, severed it more accurately than a scalpel. On his way out, Justin gave himself one last glance in the mirror, admitting to himself that he looked the part of sex and candy.
Then, grabbing his scarf and leather jacket from the hook beside the door, he left to do his job. Hailing a cab was one of the things he hated about New York especially during the holidays. It always seemed that there were never any when one was necessary. With that in mind, Justin had the forethought to rent a car for this occasion. He handed the valet the ticket and once the low-level black Jaguar came vrooming to a stop in front of him, he was off.
The ride to the Towers was uneventful which seemed like a miracle to Justin. He'd already parked his car when his cell phone rang again. Noticing it was his mother, he knew he needed to answer.
"Already here, lady."
"Yeah, I kinda hated to call now but..."
"But?"
"Yeah. I figured I should warn you about the exit strategy."
"What is it this time?" He couldn't keep the exasperation from his voice.
"It seems that Chris Hobbs brought some people with him that were... unexpected."
"Bodyguards or people people."
"A little of both."
"Well not to worry, Mother. I never leave home without the Eagle."
"Good to know, Son, and I thought that would be the case, but you might need just a little more help." She sing-songed the word ‘little' which let Justin know that there was more to this than what she said. "Be sure to stop by the front desk on your way in. Ask for a package in the name Ken."
"Seriously mother? Ken? Back to the Barbie jokes at a time like this, are we?" It was a standing joke between them because of Justin letting his hair grow out from the boyhood style he usually wore.
"What can I say other than you look like the doll so it seemed fitting. Be careful, Son, and come home in one piece."
"I always am and I ALWAYS do. I'll call you in the morning."
"Not tonight?"
"Nope. I have a hot date when this is over. And I do mean HOT."
"Well at least one of us does. In that case, I will issue my warning of ‘be careful' again and I expect to be called by seven. Happy New Year, Justin."
"You too, Mom. Later," He hung up the phone as he entered Trump Towers.
The lobby of the hotel was spacious and inviting. He remembered the first time he'd entered the building. He couldn't believe that his first job was going to be in this luxurious hotel and he was afraid he'd fuck up. He had none of those fears riding his coattail this time. Straightening himself up to his full height, Justin walked over to the front desk and asked for the package his mother left him. The attendant gawked for a moment when he'd given the name Ken but that was expected. This wasn't the first time his mom's sense of humor had the desired result. He felt the anxiousness that usually accompanied the hits he'd done; the thrill of anticipation and the need to have it done and over with.
Sometimes Justin found himself wishing for a normal life, but there was no point. In his world, this WAS normal. He'd grown up with a mother who did this for a living. He remembered the many arguments she and his father had about her having to travel so much while he was basically a single parent. But it certainly hadn't stopped Craig Taylor from cheating on his wife at every turn while he ran his own multi-million dollar company, or from spending her hard earned money on said whores while his money languished in his account collecting interest. His mom's cover job was in the hotel business, which is how she could always find out who was staying where. Jennifer Taylor had contacts everywhere, and they now extended to Justin.
Once again focusing in on his task, Justin looked up just in time to see his ‘cleaner' coming through the door. He gave a slight nod of his head which was returned by the man who would make sure there was no evidence left behind when Justin was through. Emmett Honeycutt was always thorough and meticulous in his job. When the front desk attendant came back with the package for Justin, he made his way over, sitting across from Emmett who had opened a magazine, looking as if he was reading. Justin opened the envelope, pulling out its contents. He had to smile at his mother's deviousness. He showed the contents to Emmett to let him know what they would be dealing with.
Emmett looked, but had not removed the paper from in front of his face. It was a standard practice between them in places like hotel lobbies and restaurants where his services would be required. "How long do you think all of this will take?" he asked.
"With what she left behind, no more than an hour. I'm using the jewels, but since there are more targets than originally expected, I may have to use the Eagle. Hopefully some of the company will have silencers on theirs; it should be easy enough to relieve them of their guns and use them. Eagle isn't exactly quiet."
Emmett couldn't help the quiet chuckle. "Let me know if you need help, although I doubt you will. You may look like a boy, but you kill like a man."
Justin smiled at the compliment. Emmett had come into the business ten-years before Justin made his first kill. He'd learned what to do and not to do based on the stories Em fed him of his predecessors. "Thanks, Em. That's pretty big coming from you. You won't see me when you come up so I'll say ‘goodnight' now. You can drop by the Plaza anytime after eight."
"Out the window this time, huh? Well okay then. Better you than me. See you in the morning."
Justin got up from his seat. It was time to get this show on the road in more ways than one. He looked at his watch. It was just past midnight. Justin got on the elevator and instructed the attendant that he was bound for the top-floor. The lower floors in Trump Tower were for guests who were staying no more than a week or two at a time but the upper floors were apartments meant for long-term and indefinite visits. Jim Stockwell had been making the Towers his home for well over a year.
Justin stepped off the elevator, immediately counting four bodyguards at the door. He knew immediately that they belonged to whomever was inside, but not to any of his intended targets. Hopefully he wouldn't have to kill any of the men who were just doing their jobs but he was prepared in any event. One of them approached him.
"What's in the bag?" he asked and automatically Justin revised his last thought. Yep, this was one night he would definitely have to kill everyone.
The arrogance of the man grated on Justin's nerves. Even as the goon made to reach for the bag Justin had on his shoulder. Without warning, Justin's hand lashed out, severing the jugular vein of the man. He stood passive as he watched the man's face go from shock to dead. The ensuing fight was just as silent as the first attack and when Justin had finished there were already four dead men. None of the men had a chance to get off a shot or scream to alert the others inside. Justin shook his head at the mess, checked his clothes and boots to make sure there was no blood splatter on him and calmly stepped over the bodies. He entered the door with the same stealth.
Inside, the party was in full swing or so it seemed to Justin. The mystery guest revealed himself to be Ethan Gold-- a pompous musician of Justin's acquaintance. There was no way he'd risen to the ranks of needing bodyguards, except in his mind. It was kind of funny now that he thought about it. Unfortunately, it could also be problematic if Ethan made a positive ID of him. This was the one time his mother's standing joke had better work out to his advantage.
As Justin stood silently watching the occupants of the penthouse suite, he took notice of everything around him. The large living room had an open floor plan which gave way to the kitchen and dining areas. To the left of the room were glass doors which led to a wrap-around balcony. He knew the bedroom was to the right of the room and also shared the balcony. With that in mind, it was time for Justin to make his presence known.
"Good evening, gentlemen."
All were silent at first, until Stockwell realized who the young man was. His eyes traveled Justin's body from head to toe, licking his thin lips as his eyes widened. "You must be Ken. I was told you looked like you should be wrapped up and displayed in a toy store. I see the description suits you."
Justin smiled but it didn't quite reach his eyes-- not that anyone noticed. "I suppose you could be right, but trust me Sir, I'm all man, and not made of plastic."
Gardner, Chris, and Ethan snickered at the comment. "He looks sweet, Jim. Will we get to take a bite later?" Gardner asked also licking his lips at the thought of tasting that round bubble butt.
Justin looked directly at the other men, "Perhaps," was his only response to the question.
"I guess you would like to change then, Ken. The bedroom is that way," Jim said.
Justin turned in the direction of the bedroom, measuring off the paces in his head. Once he reached it, he looked back to see the four men drinking and engaged in an intense conversation. No doubt planning his rape. Justin rolled his eyes at the thought. It was bad enough he had to be in their presence at all, but he hated when they were inebriated. It made his job that much harder when they got touchy-feely. Before he stripped down, Justin crossed to the far side of the bedroom where the balcony was. He was a little afraid that it hadn't extended as far as he wanted it to and was very pleased that it did. Justin quietly unlatched the door and stepped out on to the terrace. The view of the Empire State Building from where he stood was mesmerizing. He would have liked nothing better than to paint it, but his memory would have to serve him once again. He moved along the balcony, once again counting the steps. He always held to the theory that it was a poor rat who didn't have more than one hole to crawl out of and even though he would still be going off the balcony, he still needed to gauge the distance between the two doors. He wasn't taking any chances with the obnoxious lot awaiting him.
He listened intently outside of the living room door as Ethan described his one and only encounter some years ago with a man who looked exactly like Ken. Leave it to that fucker to remember, and it was far from an encounter. Ethan told the others how he and Justin had fucked, and that the musician had made him beg for it before he finally gave in and fucked the little blond. Justin almost laughed aloud which surely would have given him away. He sneaked back into the bedroom still pondering Ethan's lies. Ethan had gone after Justin and when he turned the arrogant pissant down, Ethan made the mistake of trying to manhandle the blond. Justin was merciful in only breaking his leg in three places. I should have crushed his larynx instead, that way he wouldn't be able to talk, annoying little shit. Justin went about preparing himself for his ‘performance.' He donned the shiny baby blue short pants, taking care to oil every inch of his body and his nipple ring so it gleamed. Then he strapped the angel wings to his back. He looked down at himself to make sure his cock outlined the front of the garment artistically and tastefully since it was the last thing any of them would see.
"My, don't you look tasty," Gardner said as he watched Justin finish his preparation from the doorway. "Any chance I could take a bite out of you before you go out there?"
Justin narrowed his eyes at first, but then remembering this was the role he had to play, he pasted on his most flirty smile and said, "Maybe afterward but you have to promise to be a very good boy. Are you a very good boy, Sir?" He asked lowering his voice huskily, knowing instinctively that the man in front of him was a total bottom.
"Yes. I have been very good and deserve a reward," Gardner said as he stepped closer into the room.
Justin backed up until he felt the bed hit the backs of his bare knees. "You have to prove to me that you can follow directions. What's your name?" Justin knew it already but since the other occupants hadn't given theirs, he still had to ask. He smirked at the knowledge that this is what he'd been reduced to-- playing the innocent when he was anything but. After Gardner said his name, Justin instructed, "Get on your knees, Gardner, and face the door for me."
"But I want to look at you," Gardner complained, petulance evident in his voice.
"You will in a moment," Justin promised. "Look into the mirror, little boy." When Gardner's eyes had risen from the ground to obey Justin's softly-given command, he reached out and grasped the older man's shoulders and began to massage them lightly. "Now keep your eyes focused on the mirror. Does this feel good?" Justin asked as he began to knead the tightly wound shoulders underneath his hands.
"Yesss," Gardner hissed behind the moan Justin's touch had solicited.
Justin spoke again softly, while still ministering to the knots within the broad shoulders. "You know, Gardner, I happen to know you've been a very bad boy." He leaned over and blew into the bald man's ear, enjoying the slight shiver which raced through the balding creep's now-relaxed body.
"How do you know that?" asked Gardner. "We haven't met before, have we?"
"No but in my other line of work it's impossible not to know who the bad guys are."
"And what kind of work is that? Ooohhh, keep your hands right there. Yesss.." Gardner moaned as Justin crept his hands up to the back of his neck.
Justin smiled wide and bent down again to whisper into the man's ear. "Good bye, Gardner."
He met the older man's eyes in the mirror, just as Justin gripped both sides of his neck and with a hard twist using his weight for leverage severed the connection between Gardner's head and his spine. The surprise the man had shown at Justin's whispered words was still displayed in the lifeless eyes staring back at him in the mirror. Justin reacted quickly, catching the body before a thump could be heard from it hitting the floor. Placing the corpse on the bed, Justin worked to angle it so that it looked as if Gardner had merely fallen asleep. He closed the eyes and removed the older man's shoes before exiting the room.
"Where's Gardner?" asked Jim as he stumbled over to the bar to pour himself another whiskey.
Justin entered the room in time to hear the question. He smirked before he said, "If you're talking about the bald guy who was here, he said that he was going to take a short nap. But honestly, it looks like he's going to be out like a light for the rest of the night."
Jim nodded. "I guess the shit you brought, Chris, was stronger than he thought. Hey would you like a hit? I think you should have a hit. This is a party and what's a party without good drinks, good drugs, and good entertainment."
Justin fumbled with the small package in his hand, noticing that the men were not indulging in chinawhite but purebred coke instead. He almost thought it a pity since it was damned easy to overdose on the drug Chris Hobbs spent most of his life pushing. However, Justin could also see the good fortune before him. Although misleading, cw was actually a very VERY light brown; if mixed well it looked off-white in color. The contents of the packet in his hand definitely would have stood out in comparison but mixed with the purebred white on the table... well that was something else entirely. "I brought my own party favor but I'll tell you what; add mine to yours, and while I dance for you, I'll take a hit or two during the show."
Jim grabbed the package out of Justin's hand greedily. "I like the way you think, boy. What's yours is mine." He handed the small package off to Hobbs who began to mix it in with the cocaine displayed prominently on the table. "Did you get the song request I asked for?" Stockwell wrapped his arm around Justin's shoulder and led him further into the living room.
"Sure did, Sir." Justin sauntered over to the CD player mounted in the wall. Loading it in, he found the requested song. Instantly the sultry sound of the music began to fill the room and Justin's body naturally swayed to its rhythm. "You have good taste in music, Sir," Justin gushed as he was expected to.
"Call me Jim. This is Chris and Ethan. Why don't you move a little closer to us?"
Without another word, Justin continued to dance even as he followed Jim's request for his proximity to them. Justin's hips gyrated seductively as he envisioned dancing for Brian as he was doing for Jim and his cohorts. The silk of the short pants caressed his ass as a lover would. Although he was still cognizant of what was going on in the room around him, he allowed himself to escape briefly into the fantasy that soon the most unpleasant part of his evening would draw to a close.
Justin placed his foot onto the coffee table, being mindful not to step into the pile of drugs. He bent over in front of all three men to allow them a clear view of his goods and his flexibility. He was gratified to see all three mouths drop open in utter disbelief and open lust. The angel wings on his back added to their ‘fallen angel' fantasies even while the shorts made them want what they would never have.
"Oh my... I want him. I want him so fucking BAD," Ethan whined.
"Take a number, my friend. No one gets him before ME," Jim said as he reached up to lightly smack Justin on the ass.
The blond looked back over his shoulder and winked at Stockwell, noticing the tent in his pants. "Don't forget our deal big boy. For every hit you take, I'll join you when I'm finished." He turned his back again and made the movements of his swaying ass even more pronounced.
He almost laughed aloud hearing the snorting sounds going on behind him but then just as suddenly, he heard the gasping gurgle of a death rattle.
"Oh my God. Call 911," Ethan said. "What the fuck was in those drugs?"
Justin turned to see both Jim and Chris struggling to breathe. He couldn't help the smile which appeared. "It looks like they are suffocating from the inside of their bodies. But that's what happens when you inhale polonium; it's very dangerous shit."
"Wh-- Why would they inhale polonium? They didn't have this reaction until..."
Justin looked at the short brunet. For all his big talk while Justin was on the balcony listening, Ethan was still nothing but a whining, sniveling coward. It gave Justin satisfaction to know that he would be putting the little asshole out of his own misery soon. "Would you care to finish that thought, Ethan?" Justin asked, sardonic smirk still in place while he watched Chris succumb to the poison and Jim still struggle to fight that which he couldn't.
"HARRY, JACK, BENSON, CHUCK!!!" Ethan yelled, fully expecting them to come bursting through the door at any moment. He called for them again pleading for someone to hear him. Justin couldn't help but laugh at the look of terror on Ethan's face.
Justin repeated the names in an imitation of Ethan's whiny voice, along with the names of Gardner, Chris, and Jim. "Looks like no one is coming to your rescue. You do have a choice however."
"Choice? What choice?" Ethan's voice quivered as he looked intently at the man who looked like an angel but was really the devil incarnate. "Oh my God, it IS you isn't it?"
"Who? My name is Ken, remember?" Justin said smiling.
"No. Fuck! You're Justin Taylor. You have to be."
"What makes you think that I ‘have to be?'"
"No one else could possibly look and sound this fucking cold even surrounded by dead bodies."
"It's a gift," Justin answered with his voice dripping sarcasm. "Now, back to your choice. You, my lucky pompous ass, get to choose the way you want to die today."
"What the fuck? No, I don't want to die. I DON'T WANT TO...oh God, I don't want to...." he rambled.
Justin rose from his seat and slapped Ethan as hard as he could. "Shut up you fucking pussy, before I just throw you off the fucking balcony and have done with it." When Ethan was stunned into silence, Justin continued. "As I was saying you have a choice. You can die here among your friends or,"
"Or?"
"Stop interrupting and pay attention. I'm trying to be compassionate here," Justin said chuckling which only compounded Ethan's fear. "As I was saying... Again...or I could let you go and then hunt you down and kill you. If I were you I would pick the first option because if I have to expend much more energy to hunt you down, your death will NOT be as quick or as painless as the others I've killed tonight."
"Others? Justin, what the fuck are you? A serial killer? A patient who escaped a psych ward... a prison escapee? Why do you want to kill me? I won't tell anyone what I saw, I promise. Please Justin, let me live. I promise I'll...."
Justin listened to Ethan's pleadings and promises over and over again, getting more agitated even as he sat there listening. He almost felt bad and considered letting Ethan go. Justin figured Ethan now knew enough about him that he would indeed keep his mouth shut. As Justin pondered this, the idea of releasing Ethan back into the wilds of society evaporated as Ethan pulled a gun from inside the couch cushions and shot at Justin's head. Thankfully Ethan was a poor shot but it didn't keep him from trying to shoot at Justin again and again until the six shooter was out of bullets. Grabbing one of the jeweled knives from a hidden pocket in the shorts, Justin came up and moved around behind Ethan and without warning, slit Ethan's throat from ear to ear. Justin released the body, hearing the thump from it dropping to the floor. He looked at his hand in disgust. Lots of blood was a natural occurrence in his job, but he still didn't like anyone else's all over him. Justin washed his hands thoroughly in the kitchen sink even as he looked over to the three lifeless bodies directly in front of him. He fought the urge to giggle at how easy this particular hit was. Outside of Ethan's body guards, the others hadn't really presented a challenge at all. It wasn't always the case, so Justin would take the easy night as not too bad of a way to start the New Year.
He went back into the room where Gardner's lifeless body continued to lay. Dressing in a hurry, he collected his things and digging into his pants pocket, Justin found the valet ticket. Walking back over to the coffee table, stepping over Ethan's crumpled form, Justin laid the ticket on it so that Em would find and return the car first thing in the morning. Justin was sick to his stomach at the smell coming from each man. Each had lost the contents of their intestines and bladder at some point during their deaths and it was not a pleasant aroma emitting into the air. This was definitely one of those times he didn't envy Emmett his job. Pulling out the thin steel cord from the side of his duffel bag, he walked out to the balcony, a little nervous but exhilarated at time. Jim Stockwell's apartment was 98 stories from the ground. It had been a long time since he'd had to scale a wall from that high up. Laughing and excited, Justin fastened the grappling hook to the rail, secured his belongings to his shoulders and pushed himself over the balcony, leaving all that death behind and looking forward to the night he would be having as soon as he got back to the Plaza. He just hoped he made it back in plenty of time to shower and calm his raging libido.
Brian's night was going in similar fashion to Justin's as he entered the high-priced hotel room on the other side of Manhattan. Hobbs had spared no expense for his guests as the casino-like atmosphere indicated. A sea of fashionably dressed ladies and gentlemen dazzled amongst a colorful array of poker chips and green baize tables. A cacophony of sound could be heard ringing, including peals of laughter and curses, from every corner of the refurbished penthouse suite.
Brian noticed the closed door at the other end and knew exactly what was going on behind it. Ordinarily it would have been deemed as a dining or conference room but in this case it was the poker game in which the minimum bet was a cool fifty-thousand dollars. Due to an earlier meeting, Brian was already feeling lucky and he couldn't wait to test that theory.
Walking up to the burly bouncers guarding the door, Brian paid his entrance fee up front as one of the guards patted down his person. Brian almost laughed aloud as the touch became more and more personal as the meaty hands traversed the planes of his body.
"You have a nice package, Mr..."
"Kinney," Brian said in a sultry baritone causing the hands roaming the outside of his Armani suit to stop. He looked into the green eyes of the man allowing his own to flirt and speak of bedroom promises. Brian had always had a thing for gym bunny brunets and this one was definitely a looker.
"Kinney," the deep-voiced guard said and smiled. "So will you be busy later?"
Brian smiled back, adding a wink for good measure. His distractionary measures were working in overdrive. Another few passes closer to his cock, the marauding hands of the bouncer would have found exactly what type of nice package Brian had in the form of his gun. "Let's see if I win first and then ask me again," he told the burly man.
"I'd like that. By the way my name is Charles."
"Good to know."
Charles backed away from Brian, giving the eye to his partner. "Let him through. He poses no threat to the occupants of the room." Turning back to Brian, he said softly. "Don't forget about me. I won't like it."
Brian chuckled at the threat. "It might be for your own good if I do." And with that he moved through the doors.
Brian walked down the longish hallway following the sound of raucous laughter and smell of cigar smoke. The marble floor was a decided disadvantage but one he could work with in needing a quick escape. He peeked his head into the room directly across from his destination noting the state-of-the-art kitchen and the terrace just on the other side of the eat-in area. It was perfect. While making one last adjustment to his outfit, Brian surreptitiously unlocked the outer door located on the other side of the room and then entered with a flourish.
"Mind if I join the game or should I wait for the next round?" Looking around the table with his hazel eyes relaxed and unassuming, he took a quick inventory of the faces around the table.
"Who the fuck are you?" the surly voice of Samuel Hobbs rung out.
"Someone who paid their money to bet and win," Brian answered smirking at the matter-of-fact tone of the man who was about to die but didn't know it.
"Your name?"
"You can call me Kinney." He watched as Hobbs mulled over the name and rolled it about his tongue as if he was trying to place where he'd heard the name before.
Finally, realizing that he hadn't, Samuel said, "Well if you paid your money already, might as well sit down and be relieved of it...permanently." The other men, including Brian, chuckled at the older man's response.
Brian took the fourth chair as he was dealt in. The round of play was fast and furious but he was able to keep up, betting recklessly, winning some and losing others. Around the sixth hand he decided that he'd had enough and it was time to get down to the business at hand. Fortunately, he didn't have to provide a segue into business matters. One of the others who Brian had come to know as Howard Jennings, provided the perfect opportunity.
"Any word from Stockwell about what time the deal is going down tomorrow?" the tall, sandy-brown haired man asked.
"Not yet, but I expect to hear from him by the end of the night. Chris is with him so whether James or Gardner calls is really irrelevant. My son will tell me all I need to know," Samuel responded still looking intently at his cards. He motioned for another card, frowning in disgust as he peeked at it.
"Good," Jennings said. "We need all the ammunition we can get, Samuel. This turf war is about to get nasty. The Columbians aren't letting up, and are acquiring new businesses as we speak. I fear our government contacts aren't going to lift a finger to help us with this one. It's all about who has the most to gain."
Brian listened to the ongoing conversation without appearing as if doing so. These men were responsible for his sister's demise at the hands of the Columbians. No, he and Claire weren't close since there was a six-year age difference between them, but when she got involved with Antonio Carrera, otherwise known as Tino, whatever protection and sibling bonding that could have been done had been severed in that moment. His mother had died praying for her daughter's deliverance to a god that wasn't in the mood to answer, and his father.... well he died during the same drug war his sister had, trying to save her. These corrupt men who he was in the presence of, were directly responsible for what had become of his family, such as it were.
"You know, Jennings is right," Brian interjected figuring it was time to join the conversation. "The more money, lands, drugs and power, the more your contacts will do for you. It's the American way." Brian shrugged as if talking about this subject was the most commonplace thing in the world.
Samuel looked at the young man sitting across from him. Brian returned the look dead-on not backing down from the gesture. He smiled his characteristic sardonic smirk and raised an eyebrow daring the older man to refute his interference. He didn't have to wait long.
"I don't know who you are, but this is business that isn't yours, so shut the fuck up and play your goddamn cards."
Brian folded his lips in to hide his ever widening smile before answering nonchalantly. "I noticed when I came in, you were trying to place where you've heard my name before. I guess I should help you to figure it out now since I'm in a gracious mood and am on a winning streak. A few years ago there was a similar turf war to what you are about to experience, or should I say would have experienced if you weren't going to be dead within the next three minutes."
Samuel registered the threat immediately and looked at Brian hard again. Brian registered the moment the recognition entered into his eyes almost as if he was reliving the night Claire and Jack Kinney died. He rose out of his seat, taking the chair with him. "KILL HIM!" he screamed as he rushed over to the wall where the intercom leading to the outside room was.
Brian placed his cards on the table face up, showing the flush he'd been holding. Reaching for his gun, he first shot the dealer, then Jennings and the other man at the table who'd been silent. He took care of the bartender who was reaching for his weapon, inconspicuously hidden behind the Grey Goose vodka, and the other three attendants who were there as waiters. By the time Samuel registered what was happening around him, the guards at the door including Charles, were entering the room and Brian dispatched all of them immediately without regard or hesitation. Brian looked around as did Samuel, counting up the bodies littering the dining area cum poker room. Each dead man had a bullet between the eyes making sure that no one lived.
"Why?" Samuel whimpered at seeing his most trusted friends and colleagues lying there lifeless. "Why would you do this? What have I ever done to you?"
Brian laughed. "Outside of the fact that this is my job, it's pretty simple Samuel. You are a vile piece of shit."
"My son is going to come for you and then where will you be? Dead, just like your fucking family. Your sister and father deserved everything that befell them, EVERYTHING. Goddamn traitors, I took them in, put your sorry ass through school and look at the thanks I get."
"Exactly. You reap what you fucking sow. Now GO TO HELL!!" Brian moved closer to Samuel, grabbing the man by the scruff of his neck and enjoying the fear, anger and regret displayed in the coffee colored eyes staring back at him. His next words made the older man's eyes widen even further. "Say hello to your son." And without further preamble Brian offloaded the remaining rounds into Samuel's skull.
He let go of the body as it crumpled to the ground looking around at his handiwork again. Fifteen bodies. He smiled looking at them. Although to Debbie this was just part of the job, for Brian it was personal and he couldn't be happier with the results. Gathering up his winnings and that of the others left behind since they wouldn't need it, Brian turned his thoughts to the more pleasurable pursuits he'd be indulging in a little more than an hour's time.
Justin.
He wondered what the young artist would think of him if he knew that in addition to running the Kinnetik Ad Agency, Brian was a contract killer. It bothered him a little that just as he'd found someone who he could like, business would be picking up because of his actions in the ritzy hotel room. Well, I'll just have to make sure he never finds out. Brian grabbed the remaining duffel bags, filled them up with the discarded weaponry and walked out of the door directly outside of the dining room.
About a forty-five minutes later, Brian was stepping into the almost deserted lobby of the Plaza Hotel. He couldn't stop the small shivers assailing his body-- one source from his still-damp hair from the shower after finishing the contract hit and the other source from the pure unadulterated anticipation of seeing the hot blond again. From the moment he'd left the scene where he'd finished Samuel Hobbs, all he could think about was Justin Taylor and his delectable ass. He couldn't wait to get into it. Stepping further into the luxurious space, he wondered how the young artist was able to afford a room at one of New York's premier hotels.
"May I help you, Sir," came the voice from the attendant who somehow surfaced next to Brian without his notice.
At first, Brian was about to ask if he looked like some fucking tourist who didn't know his way around a hotel lobby but he stopped himself. He imagined that somehow he did look a bit lost and like he was gawking in the unfamiliar territory. "Actually, maybe you can. I'm looking for a gorgeous blond, about five-nine with blue eyes."
"Then I guess that blond would be deemed picture perfect," came another voice from directly behind Brian... a voice his body recognized immediately.
Brian turned to see the blond in question. He watched silently as Justin dismissed the attendant and refocused his attention on him. His eyes looked even bluer in the bright light amid the crystal chandeliers and marble floors. "How did your meeting go?"
Justin smiled wide. "Productive. And yours?"
"The same," Brian answered, returning the smile. "Do you want to have a drink first and discuss business or..."
His words were cut off as Justin stepped closer, grabbing the back of his neck and pressing those plush lips against his own. Brian couldn't contain the small moan which escaped him as he let his eyes drift shut for a moment, savoring the exchange.
"Does that answer your question?" Justin asked releasing Brian from the kiss but still keeping his lips attached to the taller man's. He pushed his tongue out to swipe at Brian's full bottom lip.
"Yeah. Well. Let's not waste any more time, huh?" Brian's tongue came out to meet Justin's causing a whole new wave of heat between them. He felt the loss of Justin's body heat keenly when Justin disengaged for the moment.
"Follow me, Mr. Kinney," said Justin as he stepped around Brian, moving briskly toward the elevators.
Brian watched Justin's ass sway as he moved in front of him. God, the young man was beautiful and moved with an innate grace that couldn't be taught. The jeans Justin wore framed his ass as if they had been painted on. Brian wanted nothing more in that moment than to fill his palms with the twin mounds taunting him through the fabric. The ride to the top floor was quiet, with surreptitious looks passed back and forth between them while the elevator attendant hummed a little no name ditty to himself. He wished them both a good evening when they disembarked from the cab.
Justin could barely contain himself as the elevator door closed, leaving them in the empty hallway, completely alone for the first time all evening. He stood against the wall, moving his eyes up Brian's body, lingering on his cock, which he noticed was hard and ready for action. It was that thought which spurred Justin to action more than anything. He practically ran down the long hall with Brian hot on his heels, to the Legacy suite at the far end of the hallway. Key card in one hand fumbling with the door, he grabbed Brian by the collar with the other and moved inside the spacious foyer. As soon as the door closed they were on each other, both men hungry to finish what had been started hours ago. Teeth clashing, tongues delving and hands gripping, Brian and Justin caught fire from the word go.
Brian tore open Justin's shirt craving the skin on skin contact. He had never felt as anxious, or as needy of anyone as he did the young blond man in front of him. He was pleasantly surprised by the nipple ring, he never would have expected it of the almost virginal-looking man. Brian moaned into Justin's open mouth, hearing the gasp which escaped Justin. Reversing their positions, he pinned the blond up against the door, licking a path from his luscious lips, down his neck, to settle over the bejeweled nipple.
"Oh damn," Justin yelped out when Brian bit at the protruding flesh then licked away the stinging pain. "Again." Justin moaned.
"Mmm...liked that, huh?" Brian asked as he followed the command.
Justin's back arched off of the coolness of the door and into the heat of Brian's mouth. He was completely lost in the sensation. When Brian's mouth detached from one side to lick, suck and bite on the other nipple, Justin thought he would cum in his pants. The hot mouth felt so fucking good on his flesh, and it had been so long since he'd found someone who knew how to please him without Justin having to utter even a single word of instruction. As Brian's teeth continued to nibble at his flesh and his hand continued to torment the deserted nipple, Justin's hands, which were tugging at Brian's hair began to shift around of their own volition, moving to do away first with the Brian's coat and then with his clothes. Justin was tempted to do the same as Brian had done to his shirt-- rip it apart-- but he kept in mind that although the man was spending this one night, he still had to go back out into the cold in the morning.
He thoughts were interrupted by a single word uttered from Brian. "Bed."
The demand was softly given, but no less effective as Justin moved his back from against the door. Looking into the gleaming and lust-filled hazel eyes, Justin saw his own need reflected back at him.
Entering the bedroom, Justin wasted no time divesting himself of his clothes. Brian did the same in kind. When they both stood naked by the bed, Justin pushed Brian onto his back, climbing on top while once again fusing their lips together. Brian's hands found their way into the longish locks of the man currently pillaging his mouth. Kissing until they both needed air, Justin detached his lips from Brian's making his way down Brian's body. The man was one happy erogenous zone; everywhere Justin kissed caused a moan or a grunt in response to his ministrations. Brian raked his nails down Justin's back, making the younger man groan in response. Justin finally reached the hard cock he'd been thinking about ever since their parting at the art gallery hours before. He buried his nose into the short hairs, absorbing the scent of sandalwood and the unnamed scent that was uniquely his bed partner's. Justin treated every ounce of flesh to a tongue bath before finally deep-throating the brunet. The whoosh of air that escaped before the swift intake of air from Brian was music to Justin's ears. He opened his lips, licking his way back to the head only to tighten them again on his descent.
"If you keep that up, Justin, I won't be able to... oh fuck," Brian gasped again.
Justin picked up speed challenging Brian's resolve, bobbing his head with the punishing rhythm he was setting, backing off when he felt the tremor in the well-toned thighs on either side of his body. Brian pleaded and begged for Justin to relieve him from the expert edging Justin was employing. All the while, Justin was preparing his own ass for Brian, his fingers stretching his hole and grazing his prostate on every pass. Moving his free hand under the pillow while continuing to please Brian and himself, Justin pulled out the pre-lubed condom he'd placed there earlier in the night. Justin gave Brian's dick one last long suck before tearing the small square packet open and rolling its contents down the prettiest cock he'd ever seen.
For Brian's part, all he could do was watch the little blond prepare himself to get fucked. He was more than aware of Justin's every move, even as he was lost in ecstasy as the most talented mouth he'd ever experienced brought him time and again to the brink of no return. Justin had handled him in a way that should have been illegal for someone so fucking young to know. He moved his hands to steady the blond bombshell as he positioned himself over Brian's cock. Brian couldn't help the gasping moan he let out as the tight ass encased his cock, the heat feeling as if it should be melting the condom adorning his dick. Justin's sharp intake of breath came just before the lithe young body slammed itself down, embedding Brian fully inside. Justin took the moment of adjustment to open his lust-hazed eyes and stare into Brian's. Brian reached up to pull the young man to him, kissing him with every ounce of feeling in his soul in that moment. The kiss seemed to go on for hours, instead of the minutes it had been, before Justin's ass started to rise and fall over Brian. Justin reared up, his eyes never leaving the man beneath him as he set another rhythm, slow and grinding at first and then fast and furious. His thighs began to burn with the effort, but Brian was worth every sting in his muscles. Justin relished the feeling of Brian's fingertips digging into his skin, bruising him in their intense grip. It drove Justin to want more.
Not one to be outdone, Brian rolled the blond underneath him, still keeping the same pace. He joined their hands above Justin's head as he heard the harsh breathing from both he and Justin mingling. It made him even hornier than he was when they started the exchange.
"Fuck me. Fuck Brian," Justin whispered even as he felt Brian hammer the walnut-shaped gland embedded inside of him. Justin released his hands to hug Brian's sweat-soaked body even closer to his own. Justin used all his strength to pull himself onto Brian and counter every maneuver Brian performed.
Brian drove into the body that was giving as good as it was getting. It was Justin's turn to rake the older man's back as Brian continued to delve deeper and deeper into the tight channel. Brian reached down on either side of him, unhooking Justin's legs from behind his back and lifting them over shoulders. The wonder and lustful way Justin looked at him told Brian that the change of angle was both new and welcomed by the younger man. The hissed ‘yesss' encouraged Brian to continue fucking Justin into the mattress for as long as he could. The tight ass got even tighter, which caused Brian's movements to become stilted before he could force the orgasm back. He was determined that Justin wasn't going to unman him before he'd had his fill. Will I ever really have enough of this man? The thought entered Brian's head before he could stop it, and looking down into the eyes staring back at him, he decided that he wouldn't. He would never grow tired of Justin Taylor; never grow tired of fucking Justin. It was impossible, but he knew somehow they would have to make it work. He wasn't letting the blond go; not now and not ever if he had anything to say about it.
At the tail end of the thought, Brian felt that moment just before culmination again and knew he wasn't alone. Justin's breathing had changed, becoming deeper and harsher as he neared his own orgasm. His eyes were tightly shut, while his tongue rapaciously molested his bottom lip. Brian bent down to capture that mouth as he increased his rhythm again. The moans and sighs of a few moments ago became grunts, groans and curses as Brian continued to fuck Justin as hard as he dared, and harder still because of the demanding man beneath him. Justin's grip became punishing even as he used his raised legs around Brian's shoulder for leverage to slam his ass against Brian's cock. The final crest took both men by surprise, Justin spilling his seed between their bodies as Brian continued to pump his release into the rubber within Justin's ass. They fucked each other through each wave battering them, unable to cease their hips from claiming each other even as they were spending themselves. When the ebb and flow of their mutual climax ceased, then and only then were they able to relax-- well spent, well used and well sated.
After their breaths were caught and as they laid there, holding each other and sharing a cigarette, neither one was willing or able to sever the connection they'd found. There was a deep peace which reigned between them; a mutual understanding that this-- whatever it was-- wasn't over. But still Justin asked, "So what's next for you?"
Brian took a long inhale of the cigarette, letting it out slowly before he answered. "More Kinnetik business, more travel...More YOU." Justin's smile then could have made the sunshine seem like it was covered by the moon, so bright it was in its intensity. Brian was mesmerized and warmed by it. He felt like he'd come home.
"I like the way you think, Mr. Kinney," Justin said as he'd had similar thoughts.
And six months later...they were MARRIED.