Pros & Cons of Vengeance

by Wasp, A. E.

  I kicked my shorts into the pile of dirty laundry on Ridge’s floor and stole a cute pair of boy-short trunks from his drawer. I also liberated a teal polo I was pretty sure would look better on me – Ridge was way too grumpy to pull off teal – and another pair of cotton shorts for after my swim. Then I closed Ridge’s door behind me.

  I had intended to head for the pool, but somehow after dropping my stolen clothes in my room, I found myself walking in the opposite direction, upstairs instead of down. I wondered if Ridge would be up there with Wes, manning the comms in the media room.

  But when I got there, Wes was watching the giant screen at the front of the room, alone.

  “S’up?” he said when I wandered in. He was sitting all the way at the back of the room near the popcorn machine, where he’d set up some kind of command center – a huge terminal with two keyboards, two monitors, and an endless number of peripherals. I could only see from his neck to his cap of red hair.

  “Nothing,” I said. “Bored.”

  “Rifling through Ridge’s shit got old, so you decided to look for fun up here?” he asked, sounding amused.

  I flicked a suspicious glance at him, and he lifted his chin at the big screen, which he switched to show security footage of the hallway outside Ridge’s room.

  “You have cameras in the halls?” I demanded. “Do you have them in the rooms, too?”

  “Nah. Chill out,” he said easily. “I didn’t install these, Charlie had ‘em before we got here, and I just took over his system. Even I know cameras in the rooms would be a breach of privacy. Hallways are fair game though, so keep your naked sexcapades away from public spaces.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Or don’t.”

  I snorted. “Sorry to disappoint, but no sexcapades here," I said. I added under my breath, “Not for lack of trying.”

  “Aw. Steele’s playing the gentleman and shutting you down, huh?”

  “He told you?” I said. I wasn’t sure why I’d find that so surprising, but I did.

  “Nope. Just an educated guess based on the fact that he’s been grumpy and distracted as hell for the last two days.” Wes grabbed a tablet and walked forward, taking a seat on the sofa across from mine. “I figure if my boy had been gettin’ any, he’d be less grumpy…though probably be just as distracted, as long as you’re around.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Wes’s gaze met mine, and he smiled slightly. “I worked with Steele in the past. A couple of times, actually. Me behind the scenes, and him out front.”

  I nodded.

  “Steele takes pride in being mission-focused. You go into a planning room with him, and you can be sure you have one hundred percent of his attention. He’s not thinking about the football game, or the errands he has to run, or the ass he got the night before. He almost gets…” Wes hesitated. “I don’t know how to describe it except to say he’s manic. Like he’s pulled so tight, he vibrates. And then as soon as it’s go time, and he’s off the leash?” He snapped his fingers. “Instant relaxation, like he’s absorbed all the adrenaline and turned it into fuel. That’s why he’s the best in the business.” Wes shook his head fondly. “He’s a machine. Nothing gets past him. And he has no fear.”

  “I can see that,” I said softly. I knew what it felt like to have that focus turned on me, how it burned me up from the inside out.

  “Well, this time things are a little different,” Wes said wryly, and I frowned.

  “How?”

  “He’s been stomping around like a bull in heat, distracted as fuck.” Wes grinned, setting the tablet on the arm of the sofa. “Yesterday, we went over the details for tonight, right? Carson heard back from the senator, and everything was a go for the public event, plus he got invited back for the private after-party. All going according to plan.”

  Wes steepled his fingers and flared his eyes like a cartoon villain. “Leo says, ‘Okay, Steele’s going to act as personal security for Ben Waters, I’m gonna act as driver, Wes will man the comms, and Ridge is gonna stay back in the van in case we need exfil.’ We all think this is a solid plan, and Steele nods along with us, right? Totally on board.”

  “Yeah, and?”

  “And we go through the whole plan – the timing, the new communication devices I developed, which are kickass and totally undetectable, if I do say so myself. We’re ready.” Wes chuckled softly. “Then, just as we’re about to all put our hands in a stack and do the whole One-Two-Three-Go-Team! thing? Steele shakes his head like he’s just waking up and says, ‘Okay, this is great, but who’s with Carson?’” Wes laughed out loud.

  I didn’t find it funny, I found it horrifying. “You’re saying that he’s out there right now, distracted? Because of me? What if he makes a mistake? What if he gets caught?”

  Wes snorted and shook his head. “Oh, baby. You really don’t know who you’re dealing with, do you?”

  Well, of course I didn’t. I’d known Steele approximately three fucking days – less if you counted the fact that he’d barely spoken to me in twenty-four hours. But what was shocking was how badly I wanted to know. He was fascinating to me, this combination of danger and protection all twisted into one package. And he looked at me like he really saw me. Not as some perfect paragon, the way my brother did, but as a smart, competent person, someone worth knowing. It was something I hadn’t known I needed until I got it from him.

  And now… I wanted more of it.

  Wes gestured to the screen again and tapped something on his mystical, magical tablet. The image changed from the empty hallway in the Bat Cave, to another hallway, in another house. This one was decorated in dark terracotta with heavy wood wainscoting.

  Wes tapped something in his ear. “What up, Superman?”

  A strangled cough came through the speakers. “You know I hate that name, right?” The voice was unmistakably Steele’s, though the words were garbled just slightly, like he was trying to speak without moving his lips.

  “Dude, it’s the best code name ever. Man of Steele, you know?” Wes laughed. “Hilarity.”

  “Yeah? You know what would be even funnier, Mighty Mouse?” Steele began hotly.

  But before he could finish the threat, Leo interrupted from wherever he was. “What would be great is if both of you could keep the chatter down. Remember Carson’s looped in and you don’t need to distract him.”

  “Right,” Wes agreed cheerily. “Status, Steele?”

  Steele sighed. “All good,” he said in that same soft, garbled voice. “Harlan brought Ben back to his playroom. Had plenty of boys and ladies there, ready to party. Drugs, booze, you name it.”

  Someone, maybe Ridge, whistled. “And he just… brought in a near perfect stranger and offered you blow? Like you’re at a buffet, and he’s all, ‘Try the creampuffs! And while you’re at it, here’s a hooker!’?”

  “Mmhmm.” Steele agreed. “Arrogant beyond fucking belief.”

  It didn’t surprise me, but then I’d become used to men like John Harlan. They were so smug, so confident of their position and power. Taking him down would be more satisfying than any sex I’d ever had.

  Yet, my brain added. Any sex you’ve had yet.

  Leo’s voice echoed my thoughts. “You’d be arrogant too, if you had the kind of insurance policies this guy has.”

  “No shit,” Steele said. “Speaking of, Ben’s been in a private room with the boy of his choice for, like, thirty minutes now.”

  Huh. I hadn’t gotten a gay vibe from Carson. Then again, I really hadn’t gotten much vibe from him at all. Carson seemed to have his shit locked down tighter than anyone I’d ever met. I wondered if, after playing so many different people over the years, he even remembered who he was anymore.

  “There a reason to be worried?” Leo asked, a thread of concern in his voice.

  I didn’t really get Leo either – he had a definite cop edge to him, but he seemed committed to this weird band of thieves, like now that he considered these guys teammates, he’d throw down
if Carson was in trouble. It shocked me that Ridge, who barely trusted me for fuck’s sake, had cast his lot in with these guys.

  “For him?” Steele snickered. “Nah. Worry about me. I’m standing in the hall guarding the door, and my virgin ears haven’t heard squealing like this since I was eight and my neighbor butchered a hog.”

  “Ohhhh,” Wes said, his eyes gleaming. He tapped a key, and Carson’s muffled voice came over the speakers, accompanied by unmistakable wet, slurping noises.

  “Yes! Just there. Harder now. That’s it! Oh, good heavens! Oh, merciful lord!”

  Wes and I looked at each other and burst out laughing.

  Carson was doing the bored, affected rich-guy voice he’d done during the meeting the other night. While his dick was in some guy’s mouth.

  “That’s dedication,” I muttered, shaking my head.

  “It’s something,” Wes said, looking shocked and impressed at once. “I kinda wanna keep listening to see if he orgasms in character.”

  “Turn it off, Bond,” Leo said dryly. “There’s some information we really don’t need to know about each other.”

  I privately agreed. Dude was a fucking identity crisis waiting to happen.

  “Oh, sure,” Steele muttered after Wes restored the comms to their previous settings. “Lucky you, you get to shut it off. Some of us are stuck here. Not even getting paid.”

  “Don’t whine, Alvarez,” Ridge said. “At least you didn’t spend two hours sweating in the back of a limo with Captain America. Man won’t let me turn on the radio or the a/c. You know how I feel about a/c.”

  I knew how we both felt. Growing up in arid Colorado, we couldn’t survive on the east coast without it.

  “Driver gets to make the call,” Leo said mildly. “Besides, we servants of the rich and famous don’t get to waste gas while our betters live it up.”

  Steele grunted, a laugh in disguise. “Where are you now?”

  “Leo’s still with the car, but I’m doing my Birdman thing, perched in a tree,” Ridge said happily. “Spying and enjoying the fresh air.”

  Wes looked at me. “Hey, Steele,” he said over the comms. “How many guards are posted?”

  “Nine confirmed,” Steele answered promptly. “Two in the guard house with security feed, two on the front door, two at the entrance to the back room, and one particularly ugly guy who stays with Harlan. Two at the back entrance.”

  “Where are his cameras located?” Wes said, still looking pointedly in my direction.

  “Exterior is covered, unsure of possible blind spots. Interior, every public room has cameras mounted. Party room has cameras hidden in the grandfather clock and a brass sextant on the mantle. Mics in the potpourri bowl on the side table – who the fuck has potpourri? – and likely others, but I didn’t get to make a thorough search.”

  “And the mics you planted?” Wes demanded.

  “Doorframe next to the entrance to the party room, to catch chatter from the guards. One under the back edge of the telephone table where Ben pretended to drop his drink. And Ben took the third.” Steele sounded amused. “He has access to things I don’t have.”

  “Thanks, Steele,” Wes said cheerily.

  “No problem.”

  Wes hit a button in his ear, like he was muting his next words. “You see what I mean? You don’t have to worry about Steele being distracted. He’s compartmentalized, so he’s fine. But watch out when he comes home tonight. The adrenaline plays havoc with a man’s libido, and I’m not sure if he’ll feel like playing the gentleman.” Wes smirked. “Unless, of course, that’s what you’re going for.”

  My heart skipped a beat, and I swallowed. That was definitely what I was going for… though I wouldn’t wanna take advantage of Steele either.

  “So, you two worked together in the past?” I said, changing the subject slightly. “You saw him after jobs in the past?”

  Wes’s smirk grew. “I did. And honey, you are cute as a puppy right now. But as amusing as it is to watch your little junior high crush come to fruition, I’m not telling you anything more about Steele. He has a past. We all do.” Wes’s expression darkened. “If he trusts you, he’ll tell you.”

  “And what about me?” I demanded, stung by the dead-on-target accuracy of Wes’s snarky comments. “Are you telling Steele everything I do?” I nodded toward the monitors.

  “If he asks,” Wes said. “I’m not gonna lie.”

  I nodded stiffly and stood. “Have a good night,” I told him.

  He smiled and gave me a quick salute, and I wandered back down to find Danny.

  Danny was swimming laps across the broad expanse of the pool, but he stopped as soon as he saw me and pulled himself up to sit on the side. The underwater lights set the planes of his face in weird relief.

  “Hey,” he said, wiping a hand over his face. “You get lost on your way down here?”

  “You might say that,” I said morosely. I’d gotten lost at some point, anyhow. I had no idea which way was up anymore. I knew Steele was attracted to me, and I was pretty sure he liked me, too. But he was too focused on the mission to act on it, and I couldn’t decide whether he’d be pleased or pissed if I stepped in and made him reconsider his priorities.

  I wandered over to sit down on the edge of the pool next to Danny, dangling my feet in the water, and he leaned forward, peering at my face curiously.

  “Ahhh,” he said, nodding to himself. He leaned back, resting his hands on the stone pavers behind him.

  “Ah, what?” I demanded, all affronted.

  “Ah, you’re thinking about the delectable Señor Alvarez,” Danny said, snickering. “It’s cute.”

  “It is not,” I argued. “It’s awful.”

  “You’re right,” he agreed sadly. “So awful. Having a guy so hot he could be a body double for Jason Momoa stare at you whenever you’re in the room and scowl whenever you’re not, like he can’t relax without you there, is a terrible, terrible fate. I feel like, as a friend, I should offer to take this burden from you. No, no,” he protested, laying a hand on my chest. “I insist.”

  “Shut up,” I said, whacking him in the stomach with the back of my hand. “It’s not like that. He’s focused on the thing with the senator.”

  “Oh, right right right! The truly terrible thing is that he’s trying to avenge you like a knight in shining armor. Like that doesn’t get my dick hard at all.” He snorted. “You poor creature.”

  I chuckled weakly. “I guess, when you put it like that.” I shook my head. “It’s just… I kinda want him to want me more than he wants that? Or as much, at least. I want to be a part of getting the vengeance, so I’m not a distraction but, like, a partner.” It sounded dumb when I said it out loud, but Danny nodded.

  “You want respect,” he said sagely. “You don’t wanna be the princess in the tower who never gets found. You want the Pretty Woman fantasy. You wanna rescue him right back.”

  “Maybe,” I said, turning my head to look at him. I ran a hand through my hair, messing up the curls. “Maybe that’s it.”

  We sat in silence for a minute, staring at the lights reflected in the water and the ripples we made with just the smallest movements of our feet.

  “Breck,” Danny said suddenly, then stopped. He turned to look at me. “It’s so weird calling you that.”

  I’d dropped the whole Rocky pretense as soon as we got on the plane, considering Ridge couldn’t seem to remember to call me by my alias.

  I laughed. “I know. But good weird. I kinda like that you know my name now. That I can trust you.” I shrugged. “It’s like my life was fake for a long time, pretending to be this mild-mannered college student by day and a rent boy at night. Both of them were me, but neither of them was completely me.”

  “You can’t keep up a lie indefinitely,” Danny whispered.

  “Exactly. But I wasn’t really thinking about the future. It was kind of day to day thing.”

  And I was treating this thing with Steele the same way, I
realized. Maybe it didn’t matter if we fucked today or tomorrow. Maybe there was a long game in there that I hadn’t considered. Not a commitment - though I was kind of weirdly not freaked out by the idea of that with him - but a way that not everything had to happen today. That we could wait and let things develop, after I’d helped him bring down the senator and shown him just how formidable I could be.

  “Breck,” Danny said again, and I looked at him, distracted.

  “Yeah?”

  “I did something bad. Two somethings, really.” His voice was barely audible, and he looked so terrified, my heart picked up speed.

  “What?” I demanded. “What are you talking about, Danny? What did you do?”

  “That night,” he breathed, his eyes huge. “With Snow White? I was terrified.”

  “I know,” I said, putting my arm around his neck and pulling him in for a wet hug. “Honey, we both were. But he can’t hurt us now. Like you said this morning. He can’t hurt us ever again.”

  I pulled back and put my hands on both his cheeks. “Listen, I know Ridge. And I’m pretty sure I know Steele too. We can stay here as long as we want, no matter how pissy Ridge is with me. It’s gonna be okay.”

  Danny shook his head tearfully. “But it won’t, though. Listen, Breck, that night, after you passed out? He beat me for hours. I didn’t…” He sobbed and pressed the side of his knuckles against his mouth. “I didn’t know if I was gonna live. And I…I wanted people to know he’d done it. You know? I didn’t want him to frame it as some kind of overdose or hit and run. So after he passed out, I… I took his pinkie ring. The antique one he wears all the time. A-and I swallowed it.”

  I stared at him in disbelief for five seconds, ten, and then I exploded. “You did what?”

  “I swallowed it,” he repeated miserably. “I imagined them doing an autopsy, like in one of those police shows, and them finding the ring in my stomach, like a clue.” He shook his head. “All I can tell you is that it seemed like a good idea at the time and I… I did it.”

  “And what happened?” I demanded. “Do you… did you…” I made a vague gesture at his abdomen.