by Luna, David
“You think?”
“Yeah. We’re still working through the details, but it looks like he spent some time in the Philippines and later in Latin America, feeding munitions through to several guerrilla insurgent groups within Columbia. We lost him for a while but followed the money and finally picked him back up in Jordan which was a fucking mess last year with weapons stolen and funneled to arms merchants on the black market.”
Gideon whistled low in surprise. “I think I read something about that. Guy gets around.”
Zavier took a drink of his scotch. “He does. And, ironically enough, most recently, he blipped in the States, but it’s not his normal MO so it may be just that, a blip, before he headed back out of the country.”
Gideon tilted his head. “It’s almost as if he has a death wish.”
Zavier looked up from his glass, his gaze steady when he answered, “Perhaps you can help him with that.”
Surprised by that sentiment, coming from his brother, he raised a brow and replied, “Perhaps I can.”
“We’re trying to get his last location and I’ve got several guys on that right now. He had people working for him in Latin America, but his network was relatively small. We believe he might be working for someone with a bigger reach this time around. Not exactly a runner, but not the leader by any means.”
Gideon shrugged. “That might actually make things easier.”
Zavier nodded. “My thoughts exactly. I wanted to give you a heads-up tonight because we’re not looking at weeks or even days, we’re looking at hours before we have the final pieces of the puzzle. I’m not sure how fast you wanna move on this, but knowing you it’ll be immediately, so be prepared to go wheels up when we’ve got what you need.”
Zavier shared a few more salient details and they finished their scotch. He told his brother to head back out to the party, he was going to do a little planning. What he really wanted was a moment alone to think. He had no idea how long the op would take. He could be gone for a week, or three months. What he did know is that he wasn’t going to let the chance to take the guy down slip through his fingers, because more than likely, he wouldn’t get another one.
He’d been the one to visit the family members of every single one of Lars’s victims from his team. He’d had to see the devastated parents, clutching onto each other’s hands when he expressed his condolences, the tears on the children’s faces, as they watched their fathers’ caskets get lowered into the ground, and he’d had to hug and console the grieving widows that were left behind.
Adrenaline and anger rolled through him like a tidal wave. That fact that he was finally going to be able to take the man down finally sinking in. He mentally warned himself to slow down and to plan meticulously. Going off halfcocked wasn’t going to get him anywhere. He’d need to scout a place, like he always did.
As he left the office, someone opened the bathroom door and walked out into the dimly lit hallway, closing the door behind him and leaning on it slightly as if gearing himself up for something. That someone wasn’t supposed to be there. That someone was supposed to be too sick to be at a party. Gideon stilled, not believing what he was seeing.
The first thing that hit him, surprising him with its ferocity, was warmth and happiness at seeing his boy after so long. He was then hit with an overwhelming sense of relief that he was all right. And then a feeling of rightness. This was where his boy belonged, at a family gathering in his parents’ house. But then he remembered that couldn’t happen, and those thoughts vanished, replaced by anger. Anger that it couldn’t happen, anger that he’d gotten in too deep, anger that the trust he’d had in his boy was slipping away.
Because, what the actual fuck? He’d been stood up twice that week and here his submissive was, at his parents’ house, rubbing shoulders with his family and friends. Hadn’t they talked about this? Hadn’t they agreed they wouldn’t mix their personal lives? Sebastian had agreed and he’d stuck to that agreement, until now. What the hell was he thinking coming here?
He knew his emotions were too close to the surface. He was being irrational and letting his feelings take over. He’d been stressed out, worried sick, and emotionally wrung out for what seemed like weeks now and being knocked off his feet with his greatest desire when it was literally the last thing he’d expected was akin to being hit by a Mack truck. He needed to back away and regroup. He didn’t know how to react, but he knew, he knew if he talked to Sebastian right then, it wouldn’t go well.
He was about to turn and head out the way he’d come in, however, Sebastian glanced his way, the soft, fake smile he’d pasted on slipping from his face. Looking unsteady, he kept a hand on the bathroom door as he faced Gideon. Gideon turned his back on the boy and headed outside through the mudroom entrance, knowing Sebastian would follow.
Once outside, he walked towards the front of the house and stopped. Sebastian stood more than a foot away, looking too scared to get any closer. Yet one more thing that pissed him off. His boy crossed his arms over his chest self-consciously and said, “Hello, Sir.”
Gideon narrowed his eyes and was about to say hello to him, but instead blurted out, “What are you doing here?”
What the fuck, Gideon?
Sebastian flinched and Gideon very nearly reached out, but held himself still. “I’m sorry. Braden invited me. I didn’t—”
“We agreed not to mix our contract with our personal lives. I don’t appreciate being blindsided by you being in my parents’ house.” He wanted to stop the words, to call them back, but something, some uncontrollable thing kept him from it.
Gideon watched as Sebastian gulped and nodded. “I understand. I’m sorry, Sir. I didn’t realize it was your family’s party. He just gave me the address. I wouldn’t have—”
Again, his mouth ran without thought. “And when you found out? Why didn’t you leave?”
Sebastian reacted like he’d received a physical blow and Gideon’s heart broke. God dammit what was he doing?
But true to form, Sebastian acquiesced, nodding. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Sir. I don’t know what I was thinking. I should’ve left as soon as I found out. I’ll go now.” As his boy turned to leave, Gideon moved to follow him but stopped when Sebastian held up a shaking hand. “It’s okay. You don’t need to… I can see myself to my car. I really am sorry, Sir. It won’t happen again.”
His mind was screaming at him. The boy had really done nothing wrong. NOTHING! He wanted to tell Sebastian that he was in love with him more than he wanted to take his next breath. So why did he treat him like that? Why not just hug him, tell him he was happy to see him, ask him if he was all right, tell him to stay, introduce him properly to his parents? Because all those things were true!
But so was the fact that his boy had lied to him. So was the fact that his boy had blindsided him at a family party. So was the fact that he couldn’t stay with Sebastian in the long term. Because what the fuck had he just talked to Zavier about? His brother would have the information Gideon needed, in hours. Information he’d be using to kill a man.
To. Kill. A. Man.
And without remorse. Not to mention all the others he’d killed. How could he, for one minute, think he could be the kind of man Sebastian needed, the kind he deserved? He was a killer. That was who and what he was. And the evil he had in him that allowed him to do the things he’d done would eventually snuff out the beauty of his boy. He was darkness and he was tainted.
No. He had to stop this now. He had to end it before he lost more of himself to Sebastian. Or worse, before Sebastian lost more of himself to him. He had to do it for them both. Determined to do just that, he followed Sebastian to his car on the street. Everything in his body was pulling him in the opposite direction. Everything in his soul was telling him to let Sebastian go tonight and to go see him in the morning, explain himself and get them back on course. But his mind, his mind knew what had to be done.
And so he continued, regardless of the force pushing him back so har
d it felt like a physical thing. He continued and saw Sebastian drop his keys. Saw him scramble nervously to pick them up, pause and then glance back. Saw him realize he was coming and practically run in the opposite direction. God. He’d done that. He’d made his boy afraid of him. Something in Gideon broke, but he’d grieve later. Clenching his teeth, holding himself rigid, he approached and placed a gentle palm on Sebastian’s shoulder, before he could get into his car.
And when his boy turned, trepidation in his eyes, knowledge of what was to come, he did nothing to assuage those fears. No, he stood there and he broke that boy’s heart and he watched as everything bright and beautiful in the boy’s eyes shattered and died. He watched as those now dead eyes looked away from him, avoiding his gaze. And he listened as the boy took the blame for every goddamned thing. As he worked hard to make sure Gideon knew that he understood. As he did his best to convince Gideon to go back inside and enjoy his family and friends.
Just when he thought he couldn’t take anymore, his boy turned, made to get in the car, paused, and then turned back around with a gift bag in his hand. A fucking gift? Jesus, he couldn’t take this. His boy then proceeded to try his goddamned hardest to joke about what he’d gotten Gideon. And as Sebastian finally got in his car to drive away, Gideon stepped forward as the door was closing and said, “Sebastian, wait…”
But his boy didn’t hear him, or pretended he didn’t. And as the love of his life drove away, Gideon shattered, gift bag falling from his hand. A billion pieces of pain, anger, self-disgust, and self-hatred falling around him like sharp shards of glass, just waiting to cut him open, to make him bleed. But to bleed, he’d have to have a heart, and he no longer did. It had just left in that little rat trap of a car and he knew he’d never get it back.
He let out a gut-wrenching, primal roar. Fisted his hair in his hands and curled in on himself before jackknifing up, hands now gripped behind his head as he began to move, walking aimlessly. Towards the house, away from the house, he didn’t know. At least, not until he heard Braden’s dismayed voice say, “Why did he leave? What have you done?”
Gideon lowered his arms, fingers now lax, strength having left him. “I ended it.”
“You… What?! Why?”
He turned towards Braden who was standing in front of Zavier at the top of the stairs to the front door. He had his arms crossed over his chest and he looked just as devastated as he himself felt. “I didn’t expect… I didn’t… He wasn’t supposed to be here.”
“So, you ended it, and sent him away because he wasn’t supposed to be here? What the fuck does that even mean, Gideon? And he was! He WAS supposed to be here. I invited him. I wanted to spend the holiday with my newest friend. The friend that was fucking alone on Thanksgiving, and Christmas Eve, and Christmas Day.”
He didn’t think he could hurt anymore. He didn’t think it possible. And yet, he could, he could hurt so, so badly. Almost feeling sick with it, he managed, “What?” He shook his head. “No.”
“Yes. I heard Zoe talking to him on the phone at work.” Braden shook his head in disgust and swiped at his tears, angrily. “What is wrong with you?”
Braden turned and walked into the house, slamming the door. Zavier stared him down, anger and disappointment, like he’d never seen directed at him, blazing in his eyes. He shook his head and folded his huge arms across his chest, the dappled light around him illuminating his tattoos, which just reminded him of the man he’d just run off. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on with you. But from what I could see through the window, that wasn’t you. That’s not the older brother I’ve looked up to all my life. You crushed that boy. God, the love he had for you.” He shook his head again. “Every time your name was mentioned his face would light up. If you didn’t see it, you were blind, brother.”
“I’m not good enough for him. He needs a good man, Zavier. That’s not me.”
“Well, you got one thing right, but only one. You’re not good enough for him, just like I’ll never be good enough for Braden, but you know what? I’m gonna bust my ass for the rest of my fucking life to be good enough for my boy, to deserve him. And if you’re not willing to do the same thing for yours, you’re not the man I thought you were.”
Gideon’s shoulders slumped and he shook his head, turning away from his brother, hands on his hips. When he turned back around, he tried to say something, but couldn’t. There was nothing he could say to make what he’d just done okay. Nothing he could do to make up for the pain he’d caused. He closed his eyes and tilted his head up to the sky. The quiet of the night surrounding them both.
When he opened his eyes, and looked back toward Zavier, he was surprised to see his brother had approached him. “You need to sort your shit out, Gideon. Get the info from my guys, do what you need to do to set your mind at ease, free yourself from the past. But you get back here and you fix this.”
His brother turned, walked up the steps and entered the house. Knowing he couldn’t be around anyone right now, he walked out to the street, picking up the gift bag as he walked by it on the way to his car, and left for home. He had a lot of shit to do to get ready to go and his brother was right. He needed to sort the shit out in his head, deal with the ghosts of his past, before he could move forward.
WHEN SATURDAY EVENING ROLLED AROUND, Sebastian was feeling a bit better. He hadn’t had a seizure in a full week and he’d gotten a lot of rest and a lot of drawing done in his downtime. He felt a bit like himself again. The meds they’d given him at the hospital had been working so far, but he didn’t want to jinx it by assuming all was well. He’d just have to take it a day at a time. And that day had been good. So, he was feeling mostly well enough to go to the New Year’s Eve party with Braden because the chance to spend a holiday with someone he cared about was so new and exciting he wouldn’t dream of giving up that chance.
He was nervous. Of course, he was nervous. But he was also excited. He might not get the chance again so he was going to make the most of it, even if he knew it would take every ounce of energy he possessed. He looked at himself in the mirror and frowned, shaking his head. He was three notches down on his belt and his pants, once fitted, were loose and baggy. His shirts were the same. He’d put on a button-up and covered it with a sweater in the hopes that he’d be able to mask some of the weight loss with bulk. Instead he just looked like a waif with clothes that hung loosely on his frame.
There was nothing he could do at that point. He hadn’t even thought of shopping for new clothes for the party. He’d had other things on his mind. He’d heard from his doctor the day before and he and his partners had come up with a plan of attack and wanted to meet with him on Monday. When Dr. Cabrera had asked, he’d agreed that he’d like to get the insurance pre-approvals process started so it wouldn’t be delayed.
He slid on his shoes, grabbed his keys, phone, and a nice bottle of wine for the host and was on his way. He turned on his music full blast, gathering courage and getting more eager as he drove. But when he finally arrived at the location Braden had given him, he was completely intimidated at the sheer size and elegance of the home and its posh location. Jesus. Whoever they were, they had money. And a lot of it. Losing the confidence he’d gained on the way over, he parked on the street out of view of the house and sat gathering his courage for a minute.
He nearly jumped out of his skin when his phone buzzed in his pocket, but when he saw the text he smiled wide.
Braden: Let me know when you’re here. I’ll come out to meet you.
Thank fuck. He texted back that he had just arrived and that Braden had perfect timing. He got out of the car, wiped his sweaty palms on his pant legs and walked up the driveway. He was met halfway by a grinning Braden and the same gorgeous dog he’d seen at the café a couple times now. Thor was his name, if he remembered correctly. He’d wondered whose dog it was, and now he knew. He was so well behaved he didn’t move from Braden’s side. He stopped, not knowing if he should shake Braden’s hand or hug him, or what.
That problem was taken right out of his hands when Braden hugged him. He then got down on one knee and ruffled the dog’s fur. He looked at Sebastian and asked him to put his hand out, palm down for the dog to sniff. “Thor, this is Sebastian. He’s a friend.”
The big dog’s tail wagged at the last word and he glanced at his owner and then back and Sebastian, tongue lolling, and he could swear he could see the gorgeous dog’s mind working. Braden said again, “Friend.”
As Thor moved forward to sniff his hand, Braden assured him that he could pet him freely now. That Thor would recognize him in the future as his friend. When Sebastian raised his brows at Braden, his new friend answered, “I have diabetes, and you probably know some of the story of my stalker. From that situation, I have PTSD. Zavier got Thor from the shelter I volunteer with. He had him trained as a service dog for both my diabetes and my PTSD, not to mention as a guard dog. My husband is ridiculously protective. If he’s not with me, he wants Thor with me, at all times.”
Sebastian smiled. “Kinda nice to be loved that much though, right?”
Braden laughed and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah it is.”
They turned and started walking towards the house, Thor between them. Sebastian offered, “I saw him at the café a few times. I wondered who he belonged to. He kinda seems like the unofficial mascot of the place.”
Braden laughed again. “Oh, there’s nothing unofficial about it. He’s definitely become the Sugar n’ Spice mascot. Maya even suggested getting him a vest that matched their aprons, but I put my foot down at that.”
“Is he a German shephard?”
“No. He’s a Belgian Malinois.”
He gave a confused look to Braden who laughed in response and said, “Exactly. I had no idea what kind of dog that was either until Thor came along. Apparently, they’re very popular military and police dogs. Take well to training of all kinds, really. Zavier knew that and surprised me with him.” Braden looked over at him and looked like he was debating saying anything, and then finally asked, “Are you all right, Sebastian? I know you haven’t been feeling great. You look like you’ve lost weight. I just…want to make sure you’re okay.”
