by J. C. Owens
The Martinelli lineage ensured that.
Enzo lived in violence, reveled in it at times when the darkness within him was at its peak. Chase was strong, but gentle in himself. Was he strong enough to endure the world that Enzo walked in?
“You need to think about this, Chase. You need to decide whether you are ready to endure Enzo’s life. If he takes you, you will become a target more than you are right now. You will have to be able to stand up to him, show him who you are now. He still sees you as the fragile boy he rescued.”
There was silence for long moments before a deep breath sounded over the phone. “How can I prove I am more than that? He can have anyone he wants. What am I?”
“The one who loves him truly.”
Kirith could almost see Chase chewing his lip as he often did when he was thinking deeply. “Stacey is pregnant with his child.”
He damn near dropped the phone.
“What?” His voice must have been louder than he intended, for he heard Landon move in the next room moments before his naked lover flung the door open, hair on end, wild eyed, gun in hand. For long moments, Kirith almost forgot the chill of the news, so entranced was he by the enticing picture before him. Perhaps they needed to role-play more, because that pose was damned sexy.
He waved his lover down at last, shading his eyes with one hand so he could focus on the conversation. “Enzo did not tell me this!”
“He just told me the other day. He said that even if he married her that she would not live with us, so…I guess that is something, right?” The tone begged for assurance.
Kirith pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing under his breath as he felt Landon behind him, strong hands kneading his shoulders in a comforting touch.
“Let me talk to him, Chase. I will phone him today—later—” he glanced at the clock with tired eyes. “I will find out what is going on with him. Perhaps…”
“You and I both know there is no hope, Kirith. Thank you for trying, but it won’t do any good. Once Enzo has made up his mind, he does not change it. I just have to get on with my life. I had hoped that I could still have a part in his life.” Chase’s laugh was bitter. “But I can’t watch this. It will always be someone else, not me. I have to find a path of my own, Kirith, create something that will keep me from being so foolishness.” Kirith could hear the choked breathing for a moment, and he wished with all his heart that he could hold Chase, comfort him, as the boy had held him in the dark days after Kirith’s rescue.
“Maybe, just maybe, I can get to a point where I can have his friendship again, be able to be in his presence without wishing for more.” The tone held no particular hope.
Kirith cleared his throat, feeling his own emotions rise. How he wished, for Chase’s sake, that Enzo would see the light, but he knew his brother too well.
Unless…
Thoughts coalescing, he sat up straighter. “Chase, there might be a last chance, something that would awaken any possessive feelings Enzo might have for you.”
There was potent silence on the other end of the line, then Chase’s doubting voice. “What could possibly…”
“Dark Whispers.”
Landon stirred behind him, a hiss of surprise escaping his lips, before he leaned down over Kirith’s shoulder.
“You would send the kid into that place? Seems a little risky to me.”
He raised a hand to trace a finger over Landon’s lips. “That’s where you come in. Take him there, my love. Take a couple of the men with you. They’ll love the break and you will all be there to see Chase is safe. But Enzo does not need to know that.”
Landon straightened, and looked at him in disbelief. “Are you trying to get me fucking killed? Enzo hardly likes me at the best of times. If he sees me without you—there, with Chase—you think he won’t gut me?”
“I will leave a message for Enzo, telling him I asked you to take Chase out for the night. It is my brother’s club after all. He owns the damn thing. Of course you would take him there, not knowing what it is. You have never been there.”
“You are placing a lot of faith in Enzo taking the time to find a reason. He might just use the knife first, and question later. That frickin’ knife is always on him. He is one scary fucker when he is riled, Kirith. I thought you loved me.”
Kirith grinned and pulled Landon down for a deep kiss. “I do, completely.”
“Then why endanger me and my balls like this?” Landon’s tone was plaintive.
“You are fully able to protect yourself. Stop sounding like a helpless little virgin.”
Landon grinned then. “Oh, no virgin here. Gave that to you, didn’t I?” He bent forward to rake his teeth up Kirith’s neck, making him shudder in reaction. It was all he could do to retain enough thought to remember Chase was on the other end of the line, and hearing everything.
Gently, he pushed his lover back, ignoring the growl of displeasure his move produced.
Chase’s voice echoed from the phone. “I have heard of the club. Who hasn’t? But, really, I don’t understand what going there with Landon could possibly achieve.”
“That is what we are going to find out. If it does nothing, then you know you might as well move on. If it does—be prepared. My brother’s passions come from dark places. Be sure he is what you want, Chase, or you could be terrified of what he can be.”
Chase did not speak for long moments, and Kirith was satisfied that the boy was considering things, not foolishly leaping into this.
“I want to try.” Chase’s tone started out softly, then morphed into determination. “If this is the last chance, I will take it. Thank you, Kirith. Thank Landon for me. I wish you could come.”
“So do I.” Kirith shook off the familiar longing for freedom. “Someday. Enzo says he will make it happen. I can only wait for that.”
Landon traced a finger down his face, and freedom faded from his thoughts. He had his lover and his daughter here, and that was all he needed in this world.
He sighed into the phone, eyes fixed on Landon. “Get ready, Chase. Hurricane Landon will arrive this weekend.”
Chase found himself shifting from foot to foot, impatience thrumming through him as he waited by the front door. His behavior had finally attracted Sergei’s attention, and he had had no option but to tell the security chief who was coming and where he was going. He feared that the grim Russian would immediately go to tell his boss, but the huge man had eyed him for long moments before returning to his office.
He was not sure what that meant, whether condemnation or support, but he was too nervous to really dwell on the matter.
Landon had phoned him from the airport and was on his way to take him shopping before they arrived at Dark Whispers that evening. Just the thought of entering such a place was making his stomach jump, not to mention spending time with Landon alone. The other man was not all that much older than Chase, but he exuded a type of cocky self-confidence that always made Chase feel dull and unworthy. He knew it was nothing Landon meant to do, and certainly he respected the other man totally, for loving Kirith so completely if nothing else. Watching the two of them grow together after the horror of Kirith’s kidnapping had been a true joy, and sometimes he still got emotional just thinking of the love between the two men. It was what he himself wanted so desperately with Enzo, and the fact that it seemed impossible, he placed on his own shoulders.
He was not enough for the Martinelli. That much was perfectly obvious in all ways, and Enzo had been right to push him away. That much was clear in the light of day. Chase wished that Landon was not coming, that they were not going to play through this farce.
Then he took a deep breath and stood straighter. He had to be strong. He had to make a life for himself beyond Enzo, make his mentor proud, and relieve him of the burden that he was beginning to be with his unwanted emotions. Going to a nightclub, meeting others, was a good introduction into a world beyond this place. With Landon at his back, he would be safe, and perhaps could hone his s
ocial skills in a way he had never before desired. Before there had only been Enzo. Now there must be something beyond that, and he had no wish to be lonely when he went away to college.
A friend. That was what he needed, and although he had no expectation of meeting such a person at a place like Dark Whispers, it was a start in his quest for independence.
More than that could not come of this night, not even with the greatest of wishing.
When the car carrying Landon finally arrived, he left the house, closing the door behind him with a sense of grim determination.
Chapter Seven
Enzo entered the house, sighing with weary relief. Raymond was right behind him, hard at his heels.
The assistant nodded to him, looking just as worn as Enzo himself, before disappearing to work on their notes.
The day, mirroring his mood, had been difficult, and it had taken all his reserves just to act like a rational human being, instead of taking out his inner fury on his subordinates. Something, somewhere, was going wrong in his dealings with the South American suppliers, and he needed to get to the bottom of it. All his senses were on alert. Someone was making a move, and he suspected his uncles, Benito and Paolo, although he could not rule out others outside the family.
Before, he would have relished the coming conflict. Now, he just felt annoyance and a certain degree of distaste, as though he wanted no part of what was to come. His usual eagerness to face dangerous challenges seemed strangely absent.
Loosening his tie with one hand, he nodded to Sergei, who stepped forward, drawing Enzo aside.
“Well?” Sergei as ever was short and blunt, welcome after a day of lies and smooth words.
“We are checking the southern lines, and John Cho is making sure there is no influence in the Asian connections. Someone is fucking with us and I want to know who.” Enzo could not work up the energy even to snarl about it all.
Sergei nodded, then shooed him up the stairs.
“I will send up food and you better damn well eat.”
Enzo waved a hand in acknowledgement before tackling the stairs with slow, heavy steps. He paused for a moment at the top of the stairs, almost turning back to ask about Chase, but pride made him clench his teeth and move on to his rooms. He would only make things worse by pressing the boy at this time. Give him room, and hopefully he would see the insanity of his wishes.
He could only hope that whatever the outcome, that their relationship would survive. The thought of losing Chase entirely made his stomach clench, and he could not quite decipher the reason why. Only a short time ago, Chase had not existed in his world. How then had he managed to become an important part of each day? He had been a duty to begin with, a sort of symbol for all that had gone wrong, all the pain and suffering that Kirith had endured. He could not have Kirith close enough to be able to help the way he wanted, so somehow, Chase had attracted all those protective instincts that rose within whenever his brother was threatened.
Those instincts still ruled, and he wanted the best for Chase. He wanted to give him everything and anything at all. It was good that the boy had a growing streak of independence, otherwise he would have been hopelessly spoiled, something he had not even done with his own niece, little Laura.
The enduring abuse that Chase had undergone and his subsequent years of therapy had produced a connection of sorts between them. He respected Chase’s strength, his courage in fighting to overcome what was within himself. He had only ever seen such a thing in Kirith, and to find it also in this young man, so broken, had intrigued him, caught his attention in full.
And yet, for all that strength, Chase was gentle, again rather like Kirith, although his brother had more of a temper, and the ability to be a dangerous force. At first, he had thought the similarities to be why he had kept Chase beyond the time of therapy and healing. In his mind, it seemed rather like the boy was a younger brother, someone to care for. It had seemed no more than that.
But now, with Chase’s protestations of love—he did not know what to think, what to do. This was outside his experiences, and all his power and money, his prestige and reputation, gave him no help in this.
He frowned as his entered his rooms and threw the silk tie carelessly on the back of a chair. Perhaps he should phone Kirith. His younger brother seemed a little more inclined to understand emotional nuances. He knew that he himself had little talent in this direction. He was making a perfect muddle of this whole thing, but he did not have a clue how to dissuade Chase from his advances other than to be honest.
Look how that had turned out.
He flinched at the memory of hearing Chase’s heartfelt sobs from the other side of the door. Everything within him had screamed to return, take the boy in his arms, and soothe away the pain, but he could not.
None of this was right.
With all the underhanded, seamy, bloodthirsty things he dealt with, at least he could be honest to himself.
He had no illusions about himself, knew exactly what he was and what was within him. There was no way he wanted to smear Chase with the darkness he carried. The thought of tainting that gentle soul with his bloodstained hands made him feel slightly ill.
His enemies, should they discover exactly how strongly he felt for the boy, would use this to their advantage, just as they had used Kirith and Laura against him.
He could not allow that kind of weakness.
Surely, a man such as him was meant to be alone. Surely that decision had been taken out of his hands, long, long ago, the moment when his father had congratulated him on his first kill.
Weariness settled upon him, so deep it felt like his body would be crushed beneath its weight. He toed his shoes off with effort, then rose to his feet, shaking off the heaviness with a shrug of his shoulders. Methodically, he unbuttoned his shirt, pulling the tails out of his pants as he crossed the room. He poured himself a glass of scotch and stood before the large French doors that led to his balcony. Drawing a deep breath, he pushed them open and passed into the waning sunlight, the pastel beginnings of the sunset just appearing on the horizon.
He sank into his chair, his favorite spot in the entire house, with a faint moan of appreciation. Its thick cushions welcomed him, and he felt his nerves begin to settle. This was his refuge from the world outside, the barrier against his responsibilities.
Here he could just be Enzo, and not the Martinelli, not the strong killer that was expected of him.
He let out a pensive sigh, swirling the scotch absentmindedly. He would have to speak to Chase tonight. It could not be left as it was—but oh, how he wanted to avoid it. He had not the faintest idea what to say, how to ease them past this stage in the boy’s life. He was not used to this indecisiveness within himself. He was known for his clear head, cool, calm precision in all he did.
He could not say he liked this new side of him. It seemed like weakness, and yet…
It all came back to Chase.
He laid his head back and watched the growing sunset with half lidded eyes.
Chase.
The knock on the door roused him from his reverie, and he felt irritation spike for a long moment, before he thrust the emotion away.
“Entrare!”
Sergei entered the room with the silent grace that was so much a part of the huge man. Suitable, as he had spent many years as an assassin for Enzo’s father, though now that life was behind him, as he had been chosen as Enzo’s head of security. In his own silent way, Sergei was the closest to a true, loyal friend he had, and the two men had often sat out on this balcony, sometimes speaking, sometimes not. Either way they were completely comfortable in each other’s company.
Sergei stopped at the small bar and poured himself vodka—straight—before venturing out onto the balcony, taking his own accustomed chair.
“So, where is Ren?” There was a hint of dislike in the tone.
“He wanted to see a play in Miami. I could not go because of that meeting, so I sent him on the helicopter. He has fr
iends there, so it is not like he will be lonely. He should be back in a few days.”
Sergei nodded, relaxing back into the cushions.
They sat in silence for some time. Sergei finally ran a hand over his short, military-cut blond hair before turning slightly in his chair, letting one leg lounge over the arm as he faced Enzo.
His silent scrutiny made him smile ever so faintly.
His friend would wait forever if necessary, if he thought he needed to talk about something.
They both knew what the topic would be.
“Have you ever wished you had done things differently, lived your life differently?” He took a bracing gulp of the scotch, thinking how inane those words sounded out loud.
Sergei snorted softly. “Different? You, me, Raymond…we are what we are, my friend. Even if we had had different childhoods, I think we would have ended up on the wrong side of the law. We like power too much and dislike rules equally.”
He nodded, staring blindly out at the ever shifting sunset.
“Still, I cannot help but wonder.” He shook his head. Sergei was right. He was where he had always been meant to be, and to wish otherwise was pure foolishness.
“This is about Chase.” Sergei’s tone held no doubt. Enzo could not say he was surprised. It was Sergei’s job to notice everything around the Martinelli, and there was no way he could not have known what had occurred.
He did not respond, not in denial, but in that he had no idea what to say. There was silence between them for long moments.
At last he shook himself free of his morose and counterproductive thoughts.
“The boy thinks he is in love with me.” His tone held no mockery, but a certain sadness.
“He is in love with you, Enzo. Whatever you might think, the boy lives for you. What he feels is no small thing, no phase of his life he will get over.”
He felt a frisson of irritation. Sergei was making more of this than needed to be. “Then it is first love, and—whether you think so or not—it is because of what he has undergone. I am safe to him. He needs that security more than anything else, so he looks to those he knows.”
