by Lourdes Skye
“He’s busy.”
Wow, rude much.
“Too busy to learn that he has heat on him,” Weasel countered.
Snorting nastily, the big guy demanded, “Follow me.”
The inside décor of the house pretty much fit the same as the exterior. The furniture was modern and expensive. In the neighborhood, no one would suspect what the house truly represented, a holding depot for trafficked young girls and sometimes, boys. Weasel was led to a room just off of the great room. Axl opened the door and ushered him inside. No sooner he entered, the door slammed behind him. He flinched. Dude at the desk looked up at him. He swore he could feel the malice rolling off of him in waves. With his ash-blonde hair pulled back in a neat ponytail, he resembled actor Julian Sands, in his younger days.
“What do you want? I thought I told you not to soil my doorstep with your presence again.”
Weasel rolled his eyes. Here he goes with his high and mighty bullshit. “Well, I figured you’d want to know that the cops are sniffing around the streets trying to dig up information on your—operation here.”
Spike’s eyes darkened. “What do you mean, the cops are out sniffing around. How do you know this? Who have you spoken with?”
“I haven’t spoken with anyone. You know I keep my ears to the streets. I hear a lot of things.”
“And what exactly have you heard?”
“The cops are closing in on these missing girls. They’re like, sweeping the streets. Leaving no stone unturned.”
“So, you just felt the need to come here and enlighten me on the situation,” Spike folded his hands over his chest, looking sharply at Weasel.
Under such a microscopic glare, Weasel swallowed. “Well I thought I’d prove my loyalty to you by watching your back.”
“Mm,” Spike sat back in his chair. “Weasel. You know, that name alone doesn’t inspire trust.”
The thin man looked down at his scuffed shoes before lifting eyes to Spike. “I told you before, I got the name as a kid. It’s all about my small build. And my ability to get in and out of tight spots.”
Spike chuckled. “Speaking of tight spots. I may just have a little job for you. Go to the kitchen and grab some lunch. Hang around the house for a bit. I’ll call you when I’m ready for you.”
Weasel left the office wondering, just what did Spike have in store for him.
Again alone, Spike picked up the phone and made the call. “Boris, I have a most precious girl for you. You demanded fresh and young. I have what you ordered. The price is still the same, one hundred thousand U.S. dollars. Give me a time and location you’d like to meet up.”
“You say fresh and pure. I say I need proof. I have been duped in the past. I won’t take that chance again. I want visual proof of the girl. Hans and I will meet with you at a location of your choosing. There, you will provide me with current pics of the girl and yourself. Only if I am satisfied with the pictures, will I purchase the merchandise. Of course at a different location and date.”
Spike grind his teeth. Why did these rich guys have to be real assholes? “How about tonight, say 7pm at the Silver Bullet on W. Houston Street?”
“I shall see you there.”
Upon disconnecting, Spike jogged out of the office and entered the kitchen. Weasel was at the table eating a roast beef sandwich. “Hey, how are you at taking pictures?”
“Uh, I’m not professional but how hard can it be. You point the camera at the target and press the button.”
“Fine, you’ll do. Hurry up and swallow that and follow me.”
Weasel’s eyes widened as they ventured down to the basement. He’d never been on this level of the house. The place resembled a medieval dungeon. The walls were dirt and stone, and the floor was all concrete. On both sides of the corridor were steel doors. From inside, one could hear the muffled sound of crying and limited conversation.
Spike handed Weasel the digital camera and opened the third door on the right.
By 5 o’ clock, Jace was smiling and engaging the patrons in laughter and drinks. He recognized a few of the men from the night before. Mickey was in the back going over the books and Lydia was on the floor taking orders. The bar sported a full functioning kitchen and had two cooks, Leroy and Jetson. Lydia gave him the lowdown on the cooks. They’d been at the Bullet for seven years now. They’d met in culinary class. Jace couldn’t help but scan the room every now and again in search of the sexy cop.
Two and a half hours later, Jace’s cheeks reddened as the two cops from last night walked in.
“Uh, I see Mr. Sexy is back,” Lydia whispered in his ear.
As Jace was mixing, The Three Wise Men, a mixture of Jack Daniels, Jim Beam and Johnnie Walker, his eyes scanned the room, settling on intense brown ones. Oh wow, he never knew cops looked like that. The jeans he wore, fit his body in such a way that it displayed his package nicely. His muscular thighs and tapered waist only added to his alluringness. He winked at Jace, then chuckled as he blushed and turned to the next customer.
So the cute blond wasn’t unaffected. He was simply playing hard to get.
“11 o’ clock,” Barney delivered before taking a healthy swallow of his drink. As Barney was sitting across from him, his 11 o’ clock was behind Cobra. Very nonchalantly, Cobra rose and walked over to the bar. “Hey cutie, can I get another one of those drinks that you fixed me last night.”
Jace’s pulse quickened as he grabbed a glass and began making the drink. Cobra leaned back against the bar, lazily looking over the crowd. His eyes picked up the three well-dressed men at a table not far from theirs.
Oh shit, was that Weasel? He thought taking a closer look. Hot damn. Speak of the devil. And he was sitting with Spike and two other guys.
“Uh, your drink is ready,” Jace sweet voice cut into his thoughts.
Turning he smiled, “Do you remember my name?”
Jace nodded.
“Say it.”
“Cobra.”
Damn that was sexy as hell. His cock twitched in his jeans. Jace’s voice was soft and sweet like honey. He wasn’t even trying to be sexy and yet, the way he executed his name, made Cobra wonder what it would sound like in the thralls of passion.
Jace nervously licked his lips as Cobra was staring at him.
“Cobra,” he repeated.
The cop blinked then took his drink and took a swallow. “So good.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
“Jace can you tell me something?”
“What?”
“That table over there,” he motioned with his head. “Do you know any of those guys? Ever seen them here before?”
He looked to where Cobra was mentioning. “I don’t know how much help I’ll be. Today is actually my second day. I don’t know any of those men.”
Picking up his glass, he saluted Jace, “Well thanks cutie. I’ll see you later.” Again Jace blushed as Cobra walked back to his table.
“Mm, somebody’s got it bad for you,” Lydia teased.
“He probably flirts like that with plenty of guys.”
“I’m usually a good judge of character and I’m going with my guts on this one. I think he wants you.”
How’s the bartender this evening?” Barney asked.
“Sexy as ever and still shy.”
Barney chuckled. “Turn on the charm, you’ll wear him down.”
“In time. Right now we have to get our heads back in the game. Have you noticed that one of those guys at that table is none other than our good friend Weasel,” Cobra said sarcastically.
Barney peered closer. “Son of a bitch! I should’ve let you choke him out.”
“Damn, I wish I knew what they were talking about over there.”
Spike slide a manila envelope across the table. Boris sat by, while Hans reached for the envelope, opened it and looked at the pictures. Pleased, he handed the package off to Boris. A look of intense lust filled Boris’s face as he sift from picture to picture.
“Ah,
she will do quite nicely. Do you guarantee that she’s pure?”
“Absolutely,” Spike vouched.
“Then I would like to take charge of her right away. Tomorrow if possible.”
“Fine. The price is still the same. You name the place and time.”
While Spike and Boris worked out the formalities, Weasel picked up his beer and took a drink. His eyes widened when they came across a certain table. Oh hell no, those were the cops from the other day. That was why he didn’t want to come here, but Spike insisted. Oh shit, if the look on dude’s face with the snake name was anything to go by, they were pissed.
Shit, he wanted to save his own ass as well as drop a dime on Spike, but he never expected to be stuck in the middle like this. Ever since Spike moved into the neighborhood with his trafficking bullshit, street drugs were on a low. Spike’s goons shot and killed anyone who they thought would hinder their exporting business. So when the two cops grabbed him and started questioning him, he saw an opportunity. If they could get Spike and his crew, then the regular street clientele would return. The nickel and dime hustlers could eat. He’d only came to Spike to try and throw off any suspicion that he was the one running his mouth. He never thought Spike would pull him into his business like this. Weasel’s eyes widened when the cop made a gesture with his hands as if he was shooting a gun at him.
“Uh, excuse me. I have to use the bathroom,” Weasel managed. He was up and gone before anyone at the table could say a word.
“Looks like Weasel is on the run,” Barney said.
“I bet.”
“I’ve got the bathroom. You stay with the table.”
Cobra sat sipping his beer as he watched to see what the others at the table would do. A few minutes later Barney rejoined him.
“The little bitch climbed out of the window.”
Shaking his head, Cobra said, “I wonder what Spike will do when he learns that his companion just jilted him.”
“Should we take Spike now?” Barney asked.
“No. I think we need to tail Spike’s company. I saw something pass between them. I think it’s something important. If we take Spike in without enough evidence, he’ll just be out in a few hours. We don’t really have anything to hold him on but the word of a two-bit street hustler. We need something concrete before trying to take him in.”
A little after nine, Spike and his company decided to part ways. Seeing the men at the table stand, Barney and Cobra quickly left the bar. They waited for the guys to exit the pub and walk to their cars. It was then that they climbed into the smoke grey Charger and followed the silver Mercedes.
Barney whistled as they pulled up in a parking spot across the street from the famous Waldorf Astoria. “Son of a bitch, why is it that the crooks live so fucking grand?”
“Well you might as well get comfortable. It looks like we’ll be here all night.”
“Mm, I feel like those cops from the movie Beverly Hills Cop. I’m almost expecting Eddie Murphy to come out at any moment now and stuff a banana in our tail pipe.”
Cobra laughed, “Man, you’re a fool.” he reclined his seat and settled back, keeping an eye on the hotel’s entrance. “You got first watch.”
“Don’t I always.”
Jace was disappointed when he saw the cop leave so early. In truth, he was looking forward to some more flirting from the guy. Did he really just think that? Twisting the spot where his wedding band once occupied, he shook his head. He better stay focused. In his current situation it wouldn’t do any good to get involved with anyone. He’d just managed to escape Octorian, whom he was sure was still hunting for him. The fear of what he’d do when he finds him, burned within him.
Around 12:30, Mickey came from the back. “You’ve got a phone call son. I’ll take over for a while. Take the call in my office.”
Jace’s heart was nearly beating out of his chest. A phone call. Who would be calling him and why here? Though he was frightened beyond belief, he made his way to the office and picked up the phone. “Hello?” he couldn’t stop the quiver in his voice.
“Hey cutie.”
“Cobra?” He sighed in relief.
“Damn, you sound like you’re glad to hear from me.”
“I-I’m surprised. How’d you get this number?”
“I called 411.”
“Oh.”
“I had to leave and I didn’t get a chance to say goodnight so…I called.”
“Oh.”
“Am I getting you in any trouble?”
“No, no I’m just taken aback that you went through all that just to talk to me.”
“Jace, you know I find you attractive. I want to get to know you better. How about dinner and a movie, nothing heavy.”
“Uh-.” God he wanted to so bad.
“When is your day off?” Cobra continued when he didn’t respond.
“I-I have the weekend off.”
“Okay so how about this, we catch breakfast on Saturday morning then maybe a carriage ride around the city. How’s that sound?”
“Uh-,” Do it, do it, you deserve some happiness, his inner voice cheered. “Okay.”
“Great. Do you have your phone?”
“Yes.” The day he arrived in NYC, he purchased a prepaid phone.
“Store my number. Call me right back and I’ll store yours.”
“Okay.” Cobra’s number made the third person he had stored in his phone. Lydia and Mickey were the others.
“How’s the atmosphere at the bar now?” Cobra found himself asking. He didn’t want to get off the phone just yet.
“Basically the same as when you left. Mickey says it doesn’t get violent here. Just a lot of loud drinkers.”
Cobra chuckled. “Well you take it easy. I’ll call you tomorrow. Goodnight.”
“Night.”
Jace couldn’t help but smile as he hung up the phone. Why was he acting like a teenager with a crush? And why did he agree to go out with Cobra?
His inner voice answered; “because you want to.”
Maybe one outing wouldn’t hurt.
“Oh wow, getting calls on the private line. Somebody wants to talk to you awfully bad,” Lydia teased.
Jace blushed.
“You know, you’re just too cute for words. You ever thought about doing some modeling?”
Jace heard those words and a panic unlike any he’d felt before started to rise in his chest. Blood was pumping in his ears and suddenly the room began to spin. Luckily Mickey caught him or he would’ve been kissing the floor.
Lydia rushed over and grabbed a clean cloth then wet it and padded his face.
“I’m okay. Just a little tired is all,” Jace argued as he straightened up.
“Son, I’ve never seen nobody faint from just being tired. Sure you ain’t coming down with something. The weather is changing.”
“No, I’m just tired is all.”
“Well I’ve got the bar for the rest of the night. Why don’t you go on home. Get some rest. I’ll get Jetson out here if I need any additional help.”
“Really Mickey, I’m fine. I can stay till closing.”
“I insist. Go home and rest.”
“Don’t argue with the boss,” Lydia smiled.
“Alright, I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”
It wasn’t until after Jace left that Lydia replayed the conversation over in her head. Jace had been fine, laughing in fact, up until she mentioned modeling. Come to think of it, ever since he’d been there he’s been kind of skittish, afraid. Almost as if he was looking over his shoulder. There was a story there. Of that she was sure. And she aimed to get to the bottom of it.
No sooner Jace arrived back at the apartment he stripped and jumped in the shower. As he lathered his body with liquid soap, his mind drifted to Cobra. Damn, he was good looking and that body… Oh man. Those muscle shirts he wore displayed his chiseled chest and bulging arms, in a way that had Jace almost drooling every time he saw him. As his mind pulled up a picture of those
sexy whiskey brown eyes and those sensual lips, his hand found itself sliding down his abdomen to his rock hard cock. It wasn’t that he was overly large of anything, but he wasn’t small either. He had a nice seven inch dick that was just thick enough and semi-bent in the middle. Gripping his prick, he began a steady up and down stroke. The soap worked as lube, making his hand feel wonderful as it glide back and forward on his dick. He moaned as the thrilling feelings began in his balls. Stroking hard and twisting at the head, he moaned Cobra’s name as ropes of warm jizz shot forth from the slit. He watched as his seed swirled with the water, down the drain.
Oh god, he’d just jacked off to the mental image of the cop. And damn…it was good. Laying down across the bed, he draped the sheet over his midsection and closed his eyes. He found himself looking forward to Saturday. First thing first, he had to get a hold of himself. He can’t afford to fall faint every time someone said something about modeling. Any more episodes like tonight and people were bound to get suspicious.
And that, was something he did not need.
Closing his eyes, a mental image of the cop surfaced again. Sighing, he felt himself rising to the occasion. He’d have to rub another one out if he was to get any sleep this night.
6
Stake outs were a real bitch.
It was now 10am and there was no sign of the two men from last night. Barney left the car ten minutes ago in search of breakfast. A light tap at the window, alerted him to his return. The aroma coming from the brown paper bag, promised something tasty.
“Any movement?” Barney asked, sipping his coffee.
“No.”
“Damn, I hope this doesn’t take all day. I’d like to get a shower at some point.”
“Mm, I think what you’d really like to do is get a hold of a certain blond bartender,” Barney joked. “I heard your phone call last night.”
“Well even if I did want that. I wouldn’t try it with yesterday’s breath.”
“Eh, don’t remind me.”
About an hour later, they noticed the silver Mercedes leaving the hotel. “I’m on it,” Cobra started the engine and proceeded to follow.
Hans watched the rearview mirror. “We got a tail.”
“Get rid of them!” Boris demanded.
