“Let’s go,” said Jed, as if annoyed by Dom looking at his reflection.
“At your service,” said Dom and followed Jed out of the room. The other bikers were already outside, but not on bikes. They were all packed into the back of a yellow van with dark windows and a picture of a smiling man with tools in his hand. The huge letters next to him read Call John the Handyman and were followed by a telephone number.
Domenico slowed down slightly, asking himself how he’d ended up in this dump. Was this how his life was going to be from now on? Hiding away in vans? But he walked into the back anyway, ignoring the strong smell of sweat and leather.
“So, what is it that you actually want me to do?” he asked Ripper.
“Be safe, Dom!” Dana said before Ryder pulled the door shut.
The van was off to a shaky start, and Ripper sat down on a bench inside. “You need to ask the guy about buying a girl like Jo, or an experience with her. She is around twenty, with green eyes and blonde hair, very small, flat chested. She has a large gap between her front teeth, so that could help make the search more specific.” Ripper passed Dom a photo of the girl. “If you get the chance, ask him to let you have your pick. Maybe they have a cellar or a facility where they keep people, and you could find her there. Though I doubt he’d take you there on the day.” Ripper let out a sigh. “This is a long shot anyway. Do a foreign accent, dangle more offers in front of him if he provides good service.”
“What kind of accent? Russian?” Domenico straightened up, looking at the girl. She looked like a child with makeup, but he assumed she could be an adult and just had a baby face.
“As long as it works,” muttered Ryder from the back of the van, his brows drawn tightly together.
Domenico sighed and looked around at all the men. The girl might as well have been snatched away by a lone wolf. There would be no trace of her then. “This is your turf, so how can you not know what happened? Aren’t you staying in touch with those people?”
Ripper grunted. “Don’t test my patience. We’re not pimps, and we don’t get dirty with human trafficking. Those fuckers stay away from us for a reason, and this is literally the first time we have a lead on a group like this existing in the area. We checked, and other than Jo, there were no missing girls in the county in the last few months. I would not have kids from our area pulled into the hands of some deviant fucks.”
Domenico spread his hands. “I’m not saying that. I’m just wondering if they would really take someone close to you? Risking war? Maybe the guy who took her isn’t affiliated? And the man I am meeting? How much do you know about his organization?”
Ryder cleared his throat. “They’re not on our turf. We wouldn’t allow that. The guy you’ll be meeting traveled here just for the meeting. He thinks you’re a pimp.”
Domenico pressed his lips together. “All right.” They wouldn’t admit they were clueless, but he was already sensing that the girl was a lost cause, and they were grabbing at air in the dark to find any leads. Unfortunately for them, from Domenico’s experience, the girl was by now probably dead or smuggled out far away. Sad story, but such was life, and Dom had his own problems to worry about, so he’d do the meeting, hope for no follow-up, and he, Seth, and Dana could leave. It was about time. Seth needed to be somewhere where he wouldn’t constantly get in trouble.
“Do any of you have a gold chain, or ring, or something?” asked Domenico, gathering his hair into a ponytail that lay low on his nape. If he were to convince the man he was meeting that he was a serious Russian client, he needed to look the part of an Eastern European gangster. He opened the gold chain on his neck and removed the cross.
Ryder shook his head but passed Dom a signet. Jed spread his arms. “Don’t look at me. I don’t wear this kind of stuff.”
Domenico snorted. “I’m guessing no one here’s orthodox?” His joke fell flat, but he chose not to worry too much and just waited, remembering bits and pieces of a persona he’d used a few times. Gribov. Dom couldn’t help a smirk as he thought this was the man he told Seth would come for him.
The bikers didn’t bother him, and none of them had even tried to search him for a gun, so he supposed they really wanted his help. It took a good half an hour to get close to the meet-up place, so Dom figured it was somewhere out of town.
When the car eventually stopped, he was eager to get out of the van that smelled of far too many men in warm leather, but when he jumped out, he couldn’t help but laugh. It was the same diner he and Mark ate at after the lesson he had given the kid in the woods. Without asking any more questions, he casually marched across the parking lot, hoping they weren’t being watched. It was a big risk to just unload him at the venue. Now that he was Sergey Andreyevich Gribov, his gait became slightly slumped, his knees softer, even as each subsequent step was longer than the previous one. He kept his hands in his pockets and smiled as he entered the diner with his sunglasses on. The meeting was supposed to start in one hour, so he decided to take his time and have a look around the place.
He had some coffee and pie, he talked to two elderly ladies, who told him they came here every Tuesday, he spoke to the waitress, and he examined the large window in the toilet stall. Ultimately though, he sat down at the back, in the same place where he’d eaten with Mark, and pretended to read a newspaper, looking at the empty parking lot and sipping even more coffee. He was quite relaxed.
A man in his thirties approached him slowly from the moment he entered the diner. He wore a T-shirt too tight for his muscular chest, and his bald head glistened with sweat.
Domenico leaned back, sliding his arm over the backrest of the seat. His heartbeat picked up. This had to be the guy. He gave a slight smile and looked at his watch. It was five past. “And there I was, thinking you chickened out,” said Domenico and removed his sunglasses to wipe off a smudge.
The man was halfway to sitting down when he stalled in the awkward position, staring at Dom as if he’d seen a ghost. “I know you…” he whispered.
A few hours earlier…
Mark sat on the porch, unsure how he felt about going to talk to Seth now. He wasn’t lying. He’d stopped watching them fuck at some point, as even he felt that he had overstepped a boundary, but the images were in his head, and he couldn’t get them out. Even with the sex being so rough, he could sense both of them being so there. Not getting sex over with, not like when Mark fucked for money, not like on porn clips. Also not the way he fucked Raj, since Raj was a newbie to it all, and their sex was fervent but not that harsh.
Domenico and Seth had a connection much deeper than he’d initially thought. Their story was like something out of a movie. So much so that he wasn’t even sure if he hadn’t been lied to. Yesterday’s showdown with the bikers revealed a new, darker side of his new friends that Mark was still dubious about. And the explosives? No one had told him about those. Wait, Dana had, but it was such an outrageous claim that he hadn’t believed her.
Mark got up with a deep sigh and knocked before entering the shack. He needed to give Seth back the money.
“Come in,” chirped Seth, and Mark pushed the door, peeking inside.
The table was so pristine one could eat from it... again, and the whole room smelled of soap. Seth’s muscular forearms flexed when he squeezed out excess water from one of Dom’s T-shirts.
Mark cleared his throat, unsure how to approach Seth about the topic. The image of Seth so pliant, with his skin a dark pink hue, kept running through his mind as if it was stuck in a loop. “Um... so you’ve made up, I guess.”
Seth licked his top lip and smiled. “Yes, just a small misunderstanding. We both have tempers, I suppose. There always needs to be some compromise. Come, help me hang the laundry.”
Mark frowned when he thought back to the way Domenico just suddenly shot down Seth’s anger with sex talk. He supposed that meant Seth’s ass was the compromise in this equation. “Sure,” he said and grabbed a stack of wet clothes, following Seth outside. To be fai
r, he rarely saw Seth as laid-back. As if there was absolutely nothing he could be worried about. “You two seem close... after the homophobic bullies from your hometown, and all that.”
Seth shot him a glance and carried out the rest of the laundry in a plastic bag. “Of course. Things like that bring you close. You have to know you can depend on the other person.” He approached the clothesline Mark had earlier hung between the house and a tree.
Mark scratched his head. He couldn’t quite work out how their bizarre relationship worked. “I mean, Dom’s retired now? Does he plan to find another job?”
Seth frowned and put some clothespins in his pocket. “Um… yes, I suppose. At some point. He’ll have to assess his options.”
Mark cleared his throat, and the thick wad of cash in his pocket burned him through his jeans as he tried hanging the clothes one by one along the line. “Is there something he knows how to do, you know, except for shooting people?” muttered Mark. Judging by the confidence with which Dom pulled the trigger at a bottle in the hand of his beloved man, his proficiency was outstanding.
Seth hid behind a T-shirt he was hanging. “You shouldn’t say that. He’s got… people skills.”
Mark sighed. “I don’t know. I mean... he’s telling me and Dana what to do, and then you do all the work at home, and he’s just reading in the chair. Doesn’t that bother you?” he asked, looking for any cracks in that perfect picture. There had to be a catch.
Seth’s face became less cheerful, and Mark was almost sorry that he was the reason behind the change, but he had to know.
“He does stuff.”
Mark swallowed hard. This was what he had suspected all along. Domenico wasn’t a normal person. Many of the things he did for Mark weren’t normal, even if they were good for him. “Illegal stuff?”
Seth groaned and hung up a few more pairs of underpants before answering. “That’s not what I said. He’s retired. You know, sometimes your partner needs support in finding himself and all that. Dom has been there for me, and I am there for him. It’s his money we live off now. He does all the research on the places we’re going to and makes sure we’re safe. Sure, I could work on that, but he’s better at it. You have to know your limits.”
There it was, the key word that normal people didn’t have to use. “Why do you need to research safety? You guys keep your money in cash, and you live in those rundown places. Is someone after you?” asked Mark, stalling for a moment when he looked at a pair of Dana’s panties, with a cute human-like melon at the back. They were the last thing he’d expect her to wear.
“Don’t ask questions you don’t want answered. Why can’t you just take it one day at a time?”
Mark exhaled. He needed to know this before they would part ways. Something unexpected had happened since he met Domenico and Seth. He’d been made to work for his keep, but he also knew he’d be fed, that he’d have a place to sleep without anyone molesting him, that he was safe, and Domenico wouldn’t let anyone hurt him. On the contrary, he was given money for his own needs, a car, and a lot of encouragement. Even if some of the things he experienced were unconventional, he still couldn’t help but think that he’d miss this stability in life. Not of place, as this changed, but of Dom and Seth around. Maybe after parting ways with them, he could just knock at the gates of that cult he heard about from Raj. If he told them he wanted to rethink his life, maybe they would take him in? He could help them with farm work and even pray to the wooden statues they apparently worshipped. Then again, it could be one of those cults where they sacrifice people to demons, and as an outsider, he was obviously more at risk. After a moment’s thought, he decided he’d rather not tempt his luck.
“I don’t know, maybe because Domenico told me to give you this,” Mark said and whipped out the cash.
Seth slowly took the money, watching it intently as the smile melted off his face completely. “Did he give you anything else? Did he say anything?”
Mark stepped back and shook his head. “No. He just told me to give it back to you as he was leaving.”
Seth’s Adam’s apple bobbed, and he put the money in his pocket. “Okay,” he muttered and went back to hanging laundry.
Mark bit his lip, surprised by the way Seth suddenly deflated, instead of being happy he got money. He cleared his throat. “You could get married and have a luxurious honeymoon for that,” he offered.
“There will be no one to get married to if he doesn’t come back.” Seth’s breathing became shallower.
Mark opened his mouth, and his brain went empty. “W-what? Why are you saying that?”
Seth gave up on the laundry and sat down on the ground, his eyes strangely empty. “He doesn’t usually give me a lot of money, because he takes care of things. He’s gone to do something dangerous and gave me this just in case. Fuck!”
Mark stopped breathing. “W-what? But he didn’t say anything. He even took his food with him.”
“Well, he’s not gonna go to McDonald’s for what’s potentially his last fucking meal, right?” Seth hissed, ripping a weed out of the grass. He was heaving and so utterly lost even Mark could see it.
Mark looked at their feet as his heart sped up. Would this mean he’d have to take care of Seth now? Why else would Domenico have given the money to him? “Maybe just call him?”
“He lost his phone yesterday. Don’t ask. He’s out there, doing some bullshit task, and I’m stuck here doing laundry like some 1950s housewife! Fuck! Fucking fuck!” Seth got up but didn’t look like he knew where to go.
Mark hugged himself and looked around the swamp. “I—so what do we do now?” he asked, suddenly as unsure as when falling asleep in the street.
Seth took deep breaths, and the gator tooth pendant Mark had given him moved on his chest with each inhale. “We have to find him. Be there as backup, just in case. He’d kill me if he found out, but I’d rather have him angry than dead. He hasn’t left long ago. And he’s going to the club, that we do know.”
Mark looked at his feet, trying to get his heartbeat in order. He was surprised to see Seth so decisive for once. Had he too been in special forces? “But... isn’t the pickup blocking the way?”
Seth nodded. “We will make it somehow. We can try to bring it back here despite the fucked wheel.”
The plan was getting more extreme by the second, but if Seth was going to these lengths, Mark was beginning to think that Domenico really was in danger. Especially as Seth was limping on the way to the shack.
“Okay,” he said quietly. He wanted to help after all the support he’d received, even if his stomach quivered at the thought of danger. “Will I get a gun?”
Seth turned to look at Mark all of a sudden, as if he’d seen him for the first time. “I mean… sorry, Mark. I got carried away. You don’t have to go.”
It was like being a spanked child, and Mark gritted his teeth in anger. “No, I have to go! You two really made a difference, I—” He swallowed hard, embarrassed by the outburst. What Seth and Domenico had done was probably nothing for them, and it was just him who put so much meaning into their friendship. He didn’t want to imply this should continue. “Domenico helped me talk to a guy I like for the first time, and you cook for me... I wanna give back.”
“Can you use a gun?” Seth asked, and his serious side was surfacing by the second.
Mark opened his mouth and wanted to say yes with all his heart, but in the end, he shook his head, deflated. He couldn’t even shoot at someone who threatened Domenico’s life.
Seth pulled out a gun from his bag and removed the bullets. “Take this one, so you can at least threaten people if necessary.”
Mark bit his lip and nodded, squeezing his hand over the hard steel. “O-okay.”
“Dom taught me to shoot, you know. He was a real bastard during training, but a good teacher nevertheless.” Seth looked around the shack and in the end stuffed a medium-sized, tattered notebook into his messenger bag, and headed for the way out. Seeing him so determin
ed was a new side of him Mark didn’t expect.
Seth did limp, and his face was twisted with discomfort when Mark ran up to him, but he moved with a purpose. It was clear nothing short of dying would stop him from getting to the Coffin Nails clubhouse.
Mark sat at the steering wheel of Dana’s car, and they drove off, reaching the truck soon after. It was blocking the way, and so they moved it a bit, despite the flat tire. Seth even found his phone under the pickup, but the battery was dead. Seth swore when he realized Dom had taken the shotgun home last night, and he ended up getting a small gun from a hidden compartment under the seat. Mark was beginning to wonder how many more weapons they had, and whether Domenico and Seth, as foreigners, had the right to carry them. Not that he would ever testify against them.
“Dom would know what to do,” Seth hissed and rubbed his forehead as they climbed into the car and immediately drove off, grazing the pickup with their side mirror. At least it only slightly changed position.
“You’re not Dom. Don’t beat yourself up about it,” Mark tried, pressing on the gas to speed up on the empty road.
Seth just nodded, but by his expression, Mark was guessing Seth was drowning in grim thoughts. Mark had never truly loved anyone, so he wasn’t sure how it felt to care for someone so deeply, but he could try to imagine what the risk of losing that person could do to someone.
About half an hour later, Mark parked down the road from the clubhouse and kept the windows open, as the old car had no air conditioner. Seth wore a cowboy hat, and Mark got a big pair of round sunglasses from the glove compartment. On the way here, they needed to stop at a gas station to refuel, and Seth got Mark a caramel frappucino, but even with the sweetness melting on Mark’s tongue, his adrenaline levels were rising. He felt like he’d landed a part in a spy movie.
In front of the clubhouse stood an ugly colorful van that from afar looked like child bait that should never be parked in front of a playground. Mark slurped the delicious and expensive drink and squinted at the men in black clothes, who boarded the back of the car one by one. They were too far away to recognize anyone though. “They’re going somewhere.”
Guns n' Boys: Swamp Blood (Book 3) (gay dark mafia erotic romance) Page 23
