by BA Tortuga
Sonny flopped under him like a rag doll. “Fuck, Precious. Better than Twinkies and cigarettes.”
“Mm-hmm.” Sonny mattress. Yum. He could just stay right here.
“Stay.” Looked like Sonny agreed, one big hand cupping his ass to keep him close. Sonny kissed his temple, just nuzzling all up on him.
Yeah. Way better than washing and thinking.
Even if his jeans were soaking on the bathroom floor.
Chapter Thirty
IT WAS just not fair that Sonny had to have this stupid old car.
A newer car would have a computer system.
Electronic doors.
Locks.
A GPS system.
Something he could use.
This crappy old thing just zoomed down the road.
Maybe he could steal MJ’s cell phone. The laptop stayed in the trunk after that morning in the hotel two days ago that ended with him having a black eye and Boomer doing that weird growling thing.
“Excuse me,” Neil said, right on the heels of that thought. “But I have to use the toilet.”
“We’re almost to the boat, man. Hold it.”
A boat. If they put them on a boat….
Paddy’s brain started working a million miles a minute, trying to figure out a way to escape. Maybe if they wrecked the car….
Neil’s hand closed over his, Neil shaking his head. Okay. Okay, he trusted Neil’s instincts. The man knew shit. He held on tight, a real, honest fear settling in his belly. A boat. In the ocean. With Boomer.
This was bad.
“Shhh.” Thumb rubbing over Paddy’s hand, Neil leaned against him, letting him feel warmth and security and hush and it’s okay.
He nodded, trying to believe that. MJ’s eyes met his in the rearview mirror. “Sit tight, Rick, yeah? You’ve been doing so well. Don’t fuck up now.”
“I… I don’t.”
“Just don’t, Rick. Breathe. Sit.”
Right. Breathing. Sitting.
“That’s it.” Sonny’s voice sounded so cheerful he wanted to whap the man over the head. “Y’all are doing good. MJ hasn’t killed anyone, we’re almost home… I like it.”
“I’m not home. I need to call my mom, Boomer. She’ll be scared.”
“No. I told you, Rick. No phone calls.” Boomer turned around, stared at him. “She thinks you’re dead, Rick. You have to just let it go. They all think you’re dead.”
“But… I….” He could feel things trying to short out, trying to twist in his head. “I’m not dead.”
“For all intents and purposes, you are, man. You aren’t real anymore. You’re a fucking ghost.”
No. No, he wasn’t a ghost. He wasn’t a…. “Why did you do this, you… you bastard?”
MJ’s hand shot out, grabbed his shirt faster than he could even see. “Because you are creating smart bombs, you asshole. Because the technology you created with the molten copper is being used by the Israelis, by the Palestinians, by the Chinese, to blow shit up and burn people to death!”
“Oh fuck a duck,” Sonny growled, and the car went faster.
The sound of Neil’s hand hitting MJ’s face was loud, ringing in his ears. Boomer didn’t even react, which was almost as scary as the way those eyes held him and that mouth kept moving. Snarling at him. Growling. Accusing. Telling him that he was hurting people.
Killing people.
Him.
Him and Bethy.
On purpose.
And it was his fault.
“Stop it! Just stop it.” Neil came up out of the back seat, hands closing around MJ’s throat. “He didn’t know, you rotten bastard. He didn’t know.”
He sort of sat there, watching as MJ cuffed Neil, and Neil went flying, nose gushing blood. Then Sonny jerked the wheel and the stupid big car slid onto the shoulder and—
God, it was quiet without the engine.
Then it wasn’t quiet, because Sonny’s voice could boom. “You, get back in your goddamned seat.” Sonny yanked MJ down in the passenger seat. A white handkerchief flew back and landed on Neil. “You, shut up and mop up. You get blood on my seats, and I’ll make you regret it. And you….” Sonny turned to look at him. “Stop gibbering. We’re going to the boat. We’ll deal with the rest then. Got it?”
Sonny gave them all a vicious glare.
Boomer snarled, and Sonny puffed up and growled, and it was sort of like watching two dogs fight, but Boomer backed down. Sat. Stayed.
Paddy looked at the car door. He could run now. Right now. They’d chase him, and Neil could get away from him.
Neil reached out for him, grabbed his arm. “He’ll shoot you, Paddy.” He wasn’t sure if Neil said it out loud or not, but he heard it.
“I….” But what if they were right? What if he was…? What if it was…? Oh God.
Oh God.
He was dead already.
Paddy! Neil’s voice all but rocked his head back on his neck. I need you. You’re not dead. I need you with me.
“Not dead.” His family was going to…. He didn’t. He…. Neil.
Neil.
“Give him the pill, dammit. He’s going to short out.” Boomer sounded pissed.
“Shut up. Just shut up,” Neil said that out loud.
Sonny growled, and suddenly the big guy was in his face with a little pill and a can of Coke. “Take this, man. Okay? It won’t hurt you. It will help.”
“Neil?”
“He’s not trying to hurt you.” Those eyes…. Neil was all worried for him, hands moving on him. Soothing. “It might make you feel better, love.”
Dead. He was. His mom.
“Okay.” He took the pill, trying not to choke on the Coke.
“There, see? That’ll do you.” Sonny’s voice sounded almost… kind.
He nodded, curled into Neil, and closed his eyes. Okay. Okay, he was good.
He could cope.
He could.
Sort of.
Chapter Thirty-One
JESUS FUCKING Christ. When things went tits up, they went in a hurry.
Sonny pulled into the marina, carefully not looking at MJ. No sir. If he looked at Precious now, one of them was gonna bubble over.
They had a knocked-out kid, a sick-as-a-dog Englishman, and a pile of tension that was making him want a fucking cigarette now, and MJ had thrown his last pack out the window.
“I’ll get these two in the boat,” he finally said. “You get the car locked down after you go grocery us up. And you owe me a fucking pack of smokes.”
“Suck my ass, redneck. I’ll get you what I fucking get you.”
“Look, you little terrorist fuck. If you hadn’t gone apeshit back there, I wouldn’t have to carry these two to the boat. You’ll fucking do what I tell you.” Goddammit. He was tired. He wanted a shot of something strong and some fucking Twinkies.
“The day I fucking do what you tell me is the day you’re burying my goddamn ass at sea, fuckhead. I happen to fucking care about what the hell I do for a living!” Shit, MJ could growl.
“You blow shit up. That makes you a psycho, Precious.” Was he up to this? No. He finally looked over at MJ, meeting those furious eyes. “God knows, I love you, but right now I’m ready to kick your sorry ass.”
MJ looked at him, cold as ice. “Get the fucking hostages into the goddamn boat.”
Sonny sighed. Nodded. Rolled his head on his shoulders. “Yeah. Yeah, sure, Precious.”
Sometimes he wondered when exactly his number would come up with MJ. He tried not to grin, because that would piss MJ off more. Oh fuck that. He grinned hugely and leaned over to kiss that mouth hard. “Get us something yummy.”
That cold look melted, and MJ’s lips quirked. “Cranky fucking redneck. I’ll get fried pies.”
“Cool. And bottled water, yeah?” He didn’t say “for the kid” because he knew MJ knew, and he knew that if he let on that he knew MJ knew…. Jesus, he needed to sleep.
Sonny hauled his ass out of the driver’
s seat and handed over the keys before getting the kid out of the back seat, doing an over-the-shoulder carry. “Come on, English. You can walk on your own.”
The kid shivered against him, hands reaching out for Neil. Christ, that was pitiful. Sonny muscled up the plank and took the big step onto the boat, teetering a little. Then he set the kid down and got English across. “Help me get him inside.”
Neil blinked at him and nodded, grabbing one of Paddy’s arms. That was it. Give the man something to do.
The car took off like a shot, MJ burning rubber and setting his teeth on edge. That was his goddamn car.
“He’d better not wreck that fucker.” They got Paddy inside and laid out on a bunk, and Sonny turned a critical eye on Neil. “Antinausea patch.”
Neil nodded, sitting next to Paddy and putting a hand on the kid’s back. “God, yes. Please?”
Shit, this whole thing was way more trouble than it was fucking worth.
Well.
Okay.
Three-quarters of a mil plus bonuses plus expenses was a lot of moonshine….
Still.
Adjusting himself, Sonny went and dug through their little cache of meds. Their medium-sized stash. Shit, they had a big honkin’ chest of drugs. He came up with a patch and handed it over.
The kid was murmuring, curling around Neil. Lord. He needed a shower. Needed to get on the water. MJ’d better not fucking dawdle.
The hunt for smokes began. He thought sure he’d left some hidden away. They weren’t in the galley or in the entertainment center. Maybe the head.
He checked the cabinet, growling as he found a note saying, “Fucking cigarette companies are evil, Sunshine.”
Bastard.
Dammit. Sonny went back to the stash of drugs, idly looking for something to ease the itch. Somehow, seeing Mr. Brit and the kid all curled up and snuggling just made him even more grumpy. There was all sorts of shit in there, and he set to sorting it all out some. Getting the stuff he needed where he could get to it.
“Stay out of the fucking toy chest and come unload.” MJ nudged his ass with one foot. “I got a carful.”
“Shit.” He’d been standing there almost twenty minutes, just staring. “If you were a snake, you woulda bit me.”
“Good thing I like you. Come on.” MJ looked fucking tired, a hair wild around the edges, but that smile was all for him.
“C’mere.” Sonny reeled MJ in for a kiss, just needing it after all the shit that had happened. Rough, deep, and a little bloody, the kiss eased him.
MJ held the back of his head, the kiss going on and on until his head was swimmy. “Okay. Better. Now, let’s get going, Sunshine. I want our life back.”
“Me too.” He trailed along behind MJ, shaking his head to clear it. “Lord, you bought one of everything, Precious.”
“Two of some things.” There were sodas and chocolate and meat and soap and all sorts of shit. Lord. MJ must be fucking hungry.
He was too, so he wasn’t gonna complain. “You got the car taken care of? Someone will house it for us?”
“Along with the Starfire and that ’vette I got you for your birthday, yeah. They’re driving down.”
“Excellent.” That was good news at least. Sonny hauled bags, checking on the terrible two again on the way in. Out like a light, both of them.
“We’ll lock them down there and go. When they come around, we’ll be at sea.” MJ sounded just determined as fuck.
“Yeah. Yeah, we can do that. We’ll have to make sure the kid can’t get to anything and make a taser.”
“Christ. He’s fucking amazing, Sunshine. He could fuck our shit up.”
“He could. We’re gonna have to be careful.” But right now the kid and the weirdo were both asleep. His belly rumbled. “Feed me, Precious.”
“There are Twinkies in the bags somewhere.” MJ winked at him. “Did they test the engines when they undocked her?”
“They did.” Everything was go. “Did you get me smokes?” Sonny grinned, waiting for the inevitable protest.
“I got lots of lube. Lots.”
“Yeah? I knew I could depend on you.” Man, what they could do with that much lube boggled the mind. “Be careful. I’ll be putting stuff in you that you don’t think will fit.”
“You think? There’s all sorts of shit we haven’t tried, you know?” MJ patted his hand and grinned, then turned to head up, leaving him standing with his teeth in his mouth.
Sonny flexed his hand, looking down at it. Huh. He grabbed a box of Twinkies and a Coke before wandering up too, latching the door to belowdecks.
MJ had started up the engines, stripped off his shirt, and started the process of backing them out. His Precious looked about a million times better, sunglasses perched on his nose.
Hell, he felt better himself, just watching the boat move out of dock and into the bay. Sonny searched out his own sunglasses and put them on. Then he moved up behind MJ and rested against that bare back. “Hey, Precious.”
“Mmm. Hey, Sunshine.” MJ looked up and back, smiling some. “You find the Twinkies?”
“I did. Brought them up. For later.” Right now he wanted skin. Leaning back a few inches, he took off his own shirt, then rubbed a little.
“Yeah?” Oh, now. That sound? Was pure happy.
“Uh-huh. I’ll have to go back, though. I didn’t bring you chocolate.” God, it was good to be just the two of them and out in the open.
“Oh, man.” MJ chuckled, nipped his jaw. “You’re so fired.”
“I was thinking about my hand in you.” That had just… occupied him. Taken all his attention.
“Yeah?” MJ leaned harder, skin hot against him. “You think it’d work?”
“I think it would. I think it would be fucking amazing.” Damn. His cock hardened in a rush. The thought….
MJ nodded, heart throbbing against his chest. “It would be something… big.”
“It would.” What else could he say? He sucked up a mark on MJ’s shoulder, rubbing his tongue back and forth over it.
MJ groaned, slow and deep, head falling forward, breath coming faster. “Sunshine. I have to get us out to sea.”
“Uh-huh. Good thing you steer well while distracted.” MJ tasted so good that he went looking for more, licking along that strong upper arm.
“Mm-hmm. I want you to ink me, remember? Leave your mark.” MJ flexed for him, hot as all hell.
“Gonna. I promise.” He had ideas. Had plans. Hell, he had someone to train with. All he needed was the time.
MJ nodded, ass sort of rolling back, rubbing his cock with those tight cheeks.
“Uhn. Tempting me, babe.” Lord, that man. He loved that ass with a passion.
“Is that bad?” MJ had a shit-eating grin on his face. Lord, he was gonna tear the man up.
“Precious, we need to get out to sea. Then….” He laughed, backing off and popping that ass. “What do you want from the groceries?”
“What do you think? Chocolate is almost—almost as good as sex.”
“Asshole.” Grinning, he unlatched the door and slid back down the little ladder steps, making sure no one was waiting at the bottom to clock him one.
“Yeah, but I’m entertaining as all fuck.” Shit, but MJ could make him laugh.
The two kidnappees were still asleep, so Sonny got Ding Dongs, Slim Jims, and tequila, along with a big old bottle of 7Up. Then he locked Neil and Paddy back in and went to talk interesting bargains.
“So when can I do it?”
“We’d need time and for Tweedledum and Tweedledee to leave us the fuck alone.” MJ grabbed a Ding Dong.
“Uh-huh.” Rats. “Well, you let me know. I’m ready.”
He watched MJ lick chocolate off those lips. Oh yeah. Ready. “What are we gonna do with them?”
“I don’t know, man.” MJ got serious all of a sudden, that switch clicking again. “I don’t like that Brit. He knows shit—personal shit—about us. We could toss him and drop Rick off somewhere remo
te, but that seems sorta vicious.”
“Well, and your buddy? He’s a little unstable. The Brit helps keep him calm….” Damn, they couldn’t just keep sailing around with them.
“It’s in their own best interest to fucking lay low now.” MJ finished the Ding Dong, took a big swig of tequila. “It was more fun wondering when I was going to let you in me.”
“It was. The whole tattoo thing was good too.” Sonny unzipped his jeans and shucked them. They were far enough out now for boxer briefs.
“Mmm. Yeah. They’ll be sleeping it off for a while. They’ve got food.” Oh, his Precious needed some one-on-one time.
Sonny scratched his belly, feeling the sun on it for the first time in too long. “What do you want, Precious? Fight? Fuck? Want me to bend you over the wheel?”
“We’ve already fought, asshole.” MJ looked at him over the top of those sunglasses, then deliberately bent, offering him that ass. “Let’s make up.”
“Fuck yes.” He was over there like a shot from a cannon, rubbing up against MJ, hands on those lean hips. “Want.”
“All yours.” MJ went up on tiptoes, just rocking away.
“Uh-huh. God, Precious. It seems like forever.” That string of hotel rooms just hadn’t done it. He struggled with MJ’s pants.
“Yeah.” MJ got them down, let him look at the lean back with all that black ink toward the bottom, that tight ass that hadn’t been anybody’s but his. Ever.
Just like he was MJ’s, all the way through. Sonny yanked his cock out of his shorts, rubbing MJ’s crack. “Hot. So hot, Precious.”
“Yeah, Sunshine. I need it, yeah? Need you, now. Come on.” MJ spread for him, braced himself on the console. A little spit and two fingers were inside MJ, stretching him out, letting him feel it. Sonny grunted at the tight-hot-good of it. No one had ever been as good as MJ—fucking psycho, beautiful badass.
MJ worked him, driving back against his fingers like the man was made for fucking. And Sonny was just the one to do the fucking. Yes, indeed. He couldn’t hardly wait long enough to get his cock lubed with spit before he pulled out his fingers and pushed his prick in, wondering idly why he hadn’t grabbed lube with the Ding Dongs. There had been six tubes. Of course, he had plans for those. He caught sight of his hand on MJ’s hip. He’d need at least a few tubes for that.
