The Mercy of the Mako Shark

by Nicole Castle

  Miko stared at him wide eyed, the spoon shaking in his hand. He closed his gaping mouth, then opened it again to speak. “What did he do?”

  Hector smiled and continued just as vehemently. “There were only seconds left to live before he would bleed out, and Rodrigo brought that gun against his wound and burned it shut.” Hector clapped his hands together. Miko swayed a little, but his attention didn't wane. “Do you know why I told you this story, my boy?”

  “So I will try and eat food.”

  “Rodrigo has a terrible scar from his attack. But he survived. He lives today, and he is proud of that scar.”

  Miko looked down at his hand, wrapped in bandages because he could still see blood that had since stopped flowing. Miko couldn't imagine ever being proud of it. He could barely stand to look at it.

  “You survived, Miko. You will get better.” The oven timer went off and Miko jumped halfway to the ceiling. Hector just clapped his hands together again. “Let us eat!”

  A Return to Normalcy

  Miko: Age 27

  It was so silent that Miko could hear his own heartbeat, thudding in excitement as a grin of anticipation spread across his face. He stood perfectly still, hidden behind the door, ready to attack.

  The knob turned and he sprang into action, grabbing Toby and forcing him forward against the wall. Toby gasped, somehow startled by this every time, even though they fucked in the doorway nearly as frequently as they fucked in bed.

  It had been awkward between them at first, Toby concerned not that Miko was capable of hurting him, killing him, but that Miko had been hurt, and asking for it rough would bring back memories of the events. Miko was not opposed to being gentle; it had brought a new tenderness to their relationship. But he found that he missed the way things were and quickly got into the habit of being the initiator.

  “I'm soaked, Miko,” Toby laughed. “It's pouring out.”

  Miko turned Toby to face him, realizing that yes, he was wet, and now so was Miko. But Miko was already nude, had in fact not even bothered getting dressed that morning in the first place, and he would quickly dry. Unzipping Toby's coat, Miko slipped it off his shoulders and tossed it aside. Toby opened his mouth to protest, then just sighed and shook his head, pulling off his damp shirt and tossing it on the pile. There was no time for practicality in their little game, for worrying about wet floors or damage to groceries. Toby no longer went shopping for eggs when Miko was waiting for him at home.

  Spinning Toby back to the wall, Miko pressed his entire body against him, Toby shivering, his skin chilled and moist. Miko held Toby's arms above his head with his right hand, reaching around to unbutton Toby's pants with the left. Toby groaned, arching his back to greet him. Miko had already applied lube to himself so there'd be nothing stopping him and he thrust inside, feeling the tension in Toby's arm go slack as he relaxed into the pleasure.

  Bringing his other hand up, Miko held both of Toby's wrists above his head as he fucked him, warming Toby's skin with his own. “I missed you,” Miko said, their cheeks together, Toby's face flushed and hot unlike the rest of him.

  “I was only gone a few hours,” Toby panted, then kissed him hurriedly, proving just how long those few hours had been. He entwined his fingers with Miko's and begged, “Touch me,” drawing Miko's right hand down across his cold chest to another place that was warmer than the rest of him. He shivered again as they gripped his cock together, and he rested his head against their outstretched arms, moaning softly when Miko began to jerk him off.

  Toby liked the feel of the prosthetics more than Miko ever had, and it made Miko almost happy to have them. But when their hands were together that way Miko may as well have not had them at all, Toby's fingers giving full function to Miko's hand, allowing him to touch Toby like no one else could.

  Stroking him faster as he got close, Miko snapped his hips so hard that Toby had to brace himself, that familiar grin growing across his face, his eyes vacant of all worry. Miko loved that the most, fucking him senseless, and he laughed with pure joy as Toby came, tensing magnificently to bring Miko his own climax.

  Miko kissed the back of Toby's neck, his hair wet and dripping down Miko's face. “It was not raining when you left.”

  “No,” Toby said drowsily. “I would've brought an umbrella.” He tilted his head and Miko moved to kiss his throat instead. Miko finally released Toby's wrist and Toby swayed in his arms as if that was the only thing keeping him up.

  “I think he did not buy you enough coffee.” One of Toby's clients had finally returned from his prolonged honeymoon, and invited him out for coffee for what Toby imagined was more than just gratitude for baking a wedding cake that could withstand a flying bouquet. “How did it go?”

  “Business proposition.” Toby patted Miko on the ass so he'd get the hint and pull out. “Let's get dry.”

  Miko went and got a towel to dry off and one to clean up, and they snuggled together in bed under the blankets. “He is getting married again so soon?”

  Toby laughed. “No, his father is a senator. He's doing a lot of fundraising for reelection. Huge events, pretty much every weekend for the foreseeable future. It would be a substantial amount of work.”

  “Would be?”

  “I told him I'd think about it. I'm not sure if I want to commit to something like that, considering all that's going on.”

  There was actually nothing going on. They lived a simple, domestic life, with very little excitement apart from just being together. It felt like it had the first time, when Miko came to stay the night and didn't leave. It was steady, and perfect, exactly what he needed. He had even tried taking a Polish class until he realized that a room full of people saying “Do Widzenia” was not conducive to his mental health.

  Miko had survived through the holidays, spending much of his time under the kitchen sink with Toby. And he made it through the release of the Marlowes' new book, detailing how Hamlet, as even they were calling him now, had approached them one night and told them the truth, at first suspecting Jonathan Peterson and then coming to them for help. Miko was described as “almost handsome” with “dark hair and soulful eyes behind his mysterious mask.” They did not mention that he and Nasir tortured them, or mention Nasir at all, nor did they mention that Miko had told Mrs. Marlowe he had no need of money.

  But Miko knew that Toby's real reluctance wasn't the commitment to his job, it was his commitment to Miko. Having no desire to see less of Toby himself, Miko would just as soon have him decline the job. “You do not have to work. I will take care of you.”

  He frowned. “This is what I've always wanted, Miko. It's not the money, I like making people happy. It's just...catering parties for rich donor's checkbooks isn't exactly contributing towards someone's happily ever after. And I can't help thinking these are the kinds of people you work with. For. Against?”

  “Kill.”

  “Kill. Anyway, I'm still considering it.”

  Miko gripped Toby's arms, wrapped around him from behind. There was a levity between them that hadn't been there before, making Miko admit just how much strain the lies had placed on their relationship.

  “Have you thought about it? Getting back to work, I mean.”

  “You want rid of me?” he teased. Toby smacked him. “I do not think there is work.” Nasir had been in touch, saying that apart from Simon going grayer with every press conference from Mrs. Marlowe, Miko's name was never mentioned. To Miko's knowledge Simon still had at least a dozen men working for him, and he'd never gotten Silva's book, which would've been the only definite link to work. And to Silva's clients. Even if Simon was able to sweet talk the clients he did know, it certainly shouldn't have been more work than his men could handle. Miko couldn't imagine Simon sweet talking anyone. “Not for me.”

  “Well even if there was, you shouldn't work with that asshole again.”

  “You are squeezing me.”

  “Sorry.” Toby relaxed his painful embrace. “He pisses me off. Why not have
Joe Russell be your handler?”

  “Nas says I am not to talk to him.”

  “Then I guess you're stuck with me.”

  “Be gentle.”

  Toby laughed and squeezed him again. Miko wanted to be stuck with him forever. Doing nothing no longer felt like purgatory as it had in the hotels in Nevada, waiting for something to happen, for the mystery to be solved. It felt like heaven, and Miko was content to carry on their boring life for the rest of his. Then the letter came.

  Toby held the letter in both hands like the weight was substantial, staring at the sender's address. Ohio State Penitentiary. Then he set it down again and clasped his hands together in his lap. Miko sat beside him on the sofa, watching as he repeated the action over and over, pick it up, put it down.

  If it was bad news about Isaac, Toby's father would've called. If something had happened to his father...

  Shaking his head, Toby took the letter and tore it open, then dropped it back on the table for the hundredth time.

  “Do you want me to read it?” Miko asked.

  “No, I....I'll do it.”

  Miko put his arm around him, imagining Toby doing the same thing with Ophelia's letter, up and down, all by himself, thinking she'd written to tell him Miko was dead. “How long did it take to open Fee's letter?”

  “Three days.” Toby took a deep breath and pulled the letter from the envelope. He skimmed it quickly, his knit brow smoothing out as his eyes widened and he read it slower, raising his eyebrows. Miko didn't try reading over his shoulder, even if he could decipher handwriting worse than his own. He just watched Toby's face, a smile he successfully fought, tears springing to his eyes that didn't fall. Toby flipped the letter over and read it again, going through the same motions, the worry on his face like he expected it to be something different than whatever was on the page becoming a genuine smile now, and tears he had to wipe away. “It's from Isaac. It's...” He swallowed hard and gripped the letter firmly. “It's an apology.” He held the letter out to Miko expectantly, so clearly still in a state of disbelief that Miko didn't want to read it and discover that Toby's eyes were deceiving him after all.

  Miko reluctantly took it, but by then Toby was so excited he started giving him the abridged version before Miko could read it. “He said he's done a lot of thinking in jail, and he was wrong to say what he did to me, and that I was the best thing in his life and he fucked it all up and he doesn't expect me to forgive him but he is sorry and hopes I'm happy.” Toby stopped, smiling giddily and waiting for Miko to respond.

  He had no idea what to say. He'd decided that he hated Isaac the first time Toby mentioned him, telling Miko what Isaac said about letting their father beat the gay out of him. Miko had grown to hate him even more as he fell in love with Toby, and now he was expected to let that go because the man apologized in a letter. “This is good?”

  Toby threw his arms around him and laughed, then pulled back to face him. “He's...he's sorry.” Toby did that adorable scrunched up face thing and Miko held him while he went between crying and smiling just like he had picking up and setting down the letter. “I think I wanna go see him. Do you want to come to Ohio?”

  “On purpose?”

  Toby laughed again. “Yes, on purpose.”

  “But I think I still do not like your family, Toby.”

  Putting a candy into Miko's mouth, Toby gave him a quick kiss. “You don't have to like him. You don't even have to meet him. He's not going anywhere for awhile, so we can worry about that later.”

  “You worry about everything.”

  Toby turned back to the letter in his hand, something Miko knew he must've been wishing for since he was eighteen. Isaac may not have expected Toby to forgive him, but he had, and it reminded Miko how trusting Toby was, how naively ready to see the best in people. To believe the lies. “I'm not worried about this, Miko.”

  Miko wasn't trusting. He was worried. “What if he says horrible things to you again? Is there a harbor in Ohio?” Toby gave him a wounded look. “If Simon apologized to me would you still be so angry you squeeze?”

  “Yes,” Toby relented.

  “I am happy for you, Toby.” Miko pulled him closer. “I do not want to see you get hurt. For how can I break his limbs if he is safe behind bars?”

  Toby rolled his eyes, settling comfortably into Miko's arms. “I'm sure you'd find a way.”

  “Read me the letter.”

  Toby proudly read it to him, as if it could convince Miko that the world was just and fair, and bad things never happened to good people. But Miko knew the worst things happened to good people. And Toby was the best thing in Miko's life too.

  “We go to Ohio and you will buy me a new shirt?”

  “Considering what little care you took of the last one?” Toby smiled. “Yeah, I'll buy you a new shirt.”

  To Miko this was a practice run, a quick trip out of town that would serve as an introduction to a lifetime of traveling together. And a shopping excursion. But to Toby it was a full weekend culminating in a mere hour of visitation, eight years of sadness and loss of familial support eradicated merely by seeing his brother across a thick pain of glass. Miko took the keys for the rental car. “I will drive, you are delusional.”

  “I'm not delusional. I'm idealistic.”

  “That is what I said.” Miko tossed his bag in the backseat. Without guns and Kevlar there was more than enough room for Toby's things as well, and they'd only packed one bag for the weekend away.

  Toby ducked into the car, visibly more comfortable on four wheels than two wings. He was a nervous flier, but then, he was nervous in general. “Do you remember where you stopped before?” he asked when Miko got in. “When you were going to California?”

  “No.” The only thing Miko remembered of that room was the closet where he'd sat surrounded by flowers. And that the desk had a candy dish filled with completely useless flavors that Miko nevertheless demolished. “I can ask Nas. He would know.”

  “It's okay. We wouldn't want to stay there anyway.” Toby sweetly gripped Miko's hand, then turned the GPS on his phone for directions to where they were staying. Their hotel was nicer but did not have a candy dish. It was a fifty minute drive from the prison and an hour and a half from Toby's hometown. It was also the first hotel Toby had ever checked into, and only the second he'd ever stayed in. The first was with Miko in Nevada. He'd never even rented a car before, and Miko felt overly protective of him for his lack of experience.

  “Come here,” Miko said, reaching for him as Toby looked curiously around the wholly unremarkable room. Toby gave a self-conscious smile, like he knew the “bumpkin” in him was showing. “You know what I do when I come to hotel?” Miko held his hand and brought Toby down to the floor with him. “Look under the bed to see if I fit.”

  “You don't.”

  “I know.”

  Toby kicked off his shoes and pulled Miko onto the bed instead, wrapping his arms around him and resting his head on Miko's chest. “I used to pretend I was scared of monsters under the bed so Isaac would stay with me. He was so annoyed.”

  “My sister did that too. But I did not mind. I think she was scared of monsters.”

  “You're a good big brother.”

  Miko kissed Toby's head. Then he thought of something. “Do you want your photograph?”

  “My photo—” he started confusedly, then firmly said, “No!” when he realized what Miko meant. He sat back up, shaking his head. “No, Miko. “I appreciate the thought but—”

  “But you should have photographs.” It still bothered him that Toby didn't have photographs, and couldn't have them of Miko. Toby's expression became stern. Miko just smiled. “Now your brother apologized he would get it for you but he cannot get for you from jail so...” He smiled wider. “I think he would want me to do it.”

  Crossing his arms over his chest, Toby asked, “You think Isaac would want you to break into my father's home and steal from him?”

  “We are bonding alre
ady! No worrying just like you said.”

  Toby snickered despite his best efforts to be firm. “Now who's delusional?”

  “Me now, so you should drive. You know the way.”

  “This is such a bad idea.” He closed his eyes. “This is such a bad idea.”

  “No worrying,” Miko sang, rocking Toby until he smiled and looked at him. “We will go when he is not home. After we get my shirt!”

  “We could've just gotten you a shirt online. Or in Boston.” Toby leaned down to kiss him. “It's not like they'll have the same things anyway. Even as backwards as this place is, fashions change.”

  “It is special from here.”

  “Okay,” Toby sighed. “But I have to warn you, I wasn't really out when I was here. For a reason.”

  Miko raised an eyebrow like he was being challenged. He would've gladly opened the minds of the townspeople if they harassed Toby. With a hacksaw. “You want me to not hold your hand at the mall?”

  “I want you to not attack people for looking at us funny. Because they will. And they outnumber us.”

  Thinking about Hector's reaction to his son being in love with a man, Miko slowly nodded. “Okay.”

  The store where Toby had bought Miko's beloved shirt years ago was no longer there, and that disappointment, along with the stares of small town people who had likely never seen a foreigner at all, much less someone as foreign as Miko, had not left Toby in the best mental state to break into his father's house. He paced back and forth on the very short leash of the payphone cord as he dialed the number for his childhood home. “He's not answering,” Toby said grimly while Miko bounced on his heels in excitement.