by Evelyn Drake
“If you’re supposed to kill me, then why the hell didn’t you let me fall? It could have saved you the bullet !”
“I kissed you,” Steve mumbled, again more for his own benefit that Michael’s .
“No shit, Sherlock. You kissed me !”
Michael was the only peace he’d known in years. The man made the world stop spinning off kilter. He made everything right again. And, more than anything—more than he even wanted to live—Steve wanted to hold onto the tiny, precious piece of comforting sanity of having Michael in his life .
He’s a better man than I am, he thought with a start. I should be the one to throw myself over the banister. He glanced sideways at the long drop down .
“I’ve don’t care if you’re the blessed Mother Teresa .”
“She was a sadist .”
“What? ” Michael said, and it was clear that his entire thought process had just stopped cold in its tracks .
Why did I say that? Steve shook his head as if he could clear away the cobwebs. “Look,” he continued, this time out loud, “Operations is going to kill you. They were always going to kill you, they just needed you to get the stone first. I heard that things went south with the Family, but I don’t have any intel on that .”
“What the fuck is Operations?” Michael’s belligerence was growing, and his fingers rubbed at his temple hard, as if he could reach inside his skull and pull out whatever it was that pained him .
“Operations. They hired the Family to get the stone. That brought you into the picture.” That was the short explanation. Government-shaping, international, clandestine organization felt like too much of a mouthful. What was also going unsaid was that Operations wanted to sever all links that could tie them to possession of the stone, and that was what landed Michael as marked for termination. And that brought him into Steve’s sphere. Michael was to be his fifty-ninth non-wartime kill .
Michael shook his head as if shaking off water. “Look, none of it matters. Your people want me dead and I need to be dead to save my sister. So get it done already. Shoot me .”
“No.”
“Then turn me back in to the Family .”
“No.”
“Then fucking turn me over to someone else from Operations and let them do the job !”
“No.”
Michael looked at the banister as if he were considering going over it again. Steve closed the distance between them with one large step and wrapped his vise-like hand around the smaller man’s arm .
“No.”
Michael’s expression shifted several times as if he were sorting through various what-to-do scenarios. “What are you willing to say ‘Yes’ to?” he finally asked .
Standing so near Michael, touching him, Steve thought about taking another kiss. He’d say, “Yes,” to another kiss. What’s wrong with me ?
“I’ll call my partner, Charlize. I’ll have her put your family under protective surveillance .”
“Surveillance? What, so that they can watch when my family gets slaughtered? It’s been twenty-four hours. I’m losing time here. Surveillance ain’t gonna cut it .”
“It’s the best I can offer,” Steve said, his voice going cold .
“Your best isn’t good enough,” Michael challenged, stepping a couple of inches closer so that their chests were nearly touching .
Steve had to look down at Michael, especially with them standing so close. But, his eyes sank even lower to Michael’s mouth and locked there. His struggle against kissing Michael again was fought in every cell of his body, and it was a battle he nearly lost .
Pulling on Michael’s arm, Steve stepped Michael away from the banister and placed himself between Michael and his surest path to permanent escape. He pulled out his phone and made a call, the phone ringing on speaker so that Michael could hear as well .
He put a fingers to his lips just as Charlize’s voice filled the void of their mutual silence .
“Please tell me you’ve got something good to report.” Charlize sounded desperate. “Monica has suspended two more people and got into a behind-doors screaming match with Hancock .”
This is worse than I thought, Steve thought, picturing how Hancock must have looked when being yelled at by a subordinate two rungs of command below him .
“What happened to Monica?” he asked, fully anticipating to hear that she’d been suspended as well .
“That’s the thing. Nothing happened to her,” Charlize whispered. “She stormed out of his office, slammed the door behind her and mobilized the team .”
“They’re on the move?” A tinge of stress raised the timber of his voice, making Michael look at him with sudden concern. “Do you know the mark ?”
“No, but I think it’s connected with your work. Have you found him ?”
Steve hesitated before answering. “I have, but we’re in negotiation for the gift.” He used “gift“ as a euphemism for the uncut diamond. “He’s hidden it and he’s withholding the location .”
“You can’t torture it out of him ?”
Steve winced at Michael’s sudden wide-eyed look, and he gave him a reassuring head shake to let the smaller man know they wouldn’t be going there. But in answer, he said, “I’ve tried. He’s made of tougher stuff than I realized.” He never let his eyes waver from Michael’s. He wanted the man to know the truth of his feelings for him. “I’m going dark until it’s resolved .”
“Turney, don’t! You stay dark too long and Monica will label you a traitor. You’ll be marked. The way Monica’s going right now, she’d do it without even clearing it with the ups .”
“I’ll keep it as short as I can,” Steve reassured. “And Charlize, I need a favor. It’s one of the negotiating points for the stone. Michael’s family needs to be put under active protective surveillance, with order to terminate hostiles with extreme prejudice .”
Charlize hissed into the phone. “I don’t know if I can get that put through without you being called in first .”
“It’s gotta happen, Charlize. All negotiations will terminate without it and the stone will be lost.” He hated lying to his best friend, but he had to in order to protect them both from the rampage that the truth would bring .
“Okay, Turney. You’ve got it. I’ll make it happen .”
“Thanks, Charlize. Be careful .”
“You too.” Her voice softened, losing its focused drive .
As soon as the call ended, Steve removed the battery and the sim card from his phone. Holding them up, he asked, “You fine with this, or would you rather I destroy the phone altogether ?”
“No, I’m good .”
“This pouch offered additional protection,” Steve said as he put the dismantled phone back in his holster, pushing in the battery and the sim card. “It’s lined with lead and will block any signal that the phone is transmitting .”
“So it hasn’t been transmitting all this time ?”
Steve shook his head no .
“Then why take the battery and card out ?”
Steve shrugged. “Extra layer of protection .”
Michael shifted his weight as he eyed Steve, looking as if he were grappling with the quickly changing situation. His mouth was tight and his eyes hard .
“If something happens to her — ”
“It won’t. I promise .”
Anger settled in on Michael’s face, and with lighting speed, the heel of his palm shot forward and slammed into Steve’s solar plexus .
Pain exploded in a firestorm of waves inside Steve’s chest and he lost his breath. He went down on one knee, one hand on his abs and the other one held white knuckle to the banister. Michael hiked a leg over the balcony’s banister as he stared down at Steve with open contempt .
“Don’t!” It was all that Steve could croak out. He shook his head, pleading with his eyes as he mouthed the word again. Don’t .
The world turned sideways and Steve fell shoulder first to the ground. He gasped like a fish out of water, fo
rcing small sips of air. In his narrow field of vision as he curled his body around his center, he saw first one foot... and then a second one. Relief flooded through him even in his pain-filled state. He didn’t jump. Thank God, he didn’t jump .
Closing his eyes, Steve focused on his breath and easing the spasm of his diaphragm. He kept his breaths small and steady and then slowly made them deeper. But when he opened his eyes at the feel of Michael’s touch upon his shoulder, the world still spun, and this time the edge of his vision were filled with darkness .
Too long without sleep. It’s pulling me under. He remembered what happened when he slept next to Charlize. His forearms still bore the scars of her attempts to wake him as he choked the life out of her. It had been the end of the non-platonic side of the relationship .
“Go back inside,” Steve said, forcing the words out. “Lock the door. Don’t come near me when I’m sleeping. Keep me locked outside, no matter what .”
“You’re a really weird man,” Michael said. “And that’s saying something considering the people I’ve met .”
“Lock me out here.” Steve closed his eyes to shut out his fading vision. It had all been too much on him. He’d been barely holding on even before he pulled Michael up over the railing. Now, there was no more fighting it. Fatigue had won .
“You’ll die of exposure. Night’s coming... and the cold .”
Steve wanted to say more, he wanted to warn Michael off. He moved his lips but all that came out was jumbled sound. He tried again with the same effect, and then a blanket of darkness overtook him that faded the entire world—Michael too—from existence .
9
Michael
B reath... no breath. Pressure over his mouth and nose, hard and holding his face in place. Michael’s body bucked as he tore his way up to the surface from sleep. His lungs burned and the sight of Steve’s face hovering above him seared its way into his memory. Real fight took hold as he thrashed to throw off the heavier and more powerful man .
I should have run when I had the chance !
Michael questioned his decision to drag the big man back inside the house, instead of locking him outside exposed to the elements as Steve had instructed. He questioned staying when he could have already turned himself back into the Family .
“Shhh.”
Steve’s censoring hush stopped Michael’s efforts, and then he heard it—movement inside the house .
Steve lifted his hand from Michael’s mouth with the same intense care he might give releasing an unstable bomb. Michael’s lips parted and he sucked in air, opening his mouth wide to minimize any sound .
Michael tried not to flinch away when Steve’s huge fists twisted the fabric of his shirt, hoisting him with ease to his feet. Within Michael’s head, questions tumbled over themselves to get out, but he held them back .
Glancing behind him at the floor, where he had made a pallet bed from a comforter and pillows for an unconscious Steve to sleep on, Michael resisted the urge to hide the evidence. But, Steve’s vise-like grip around his arm dragged him onto the balcony .
“We’re going over,” Steve raspy voice cut through the night .
“What? You stop me earlier and now you want me to jump ?”
The beam of a flashlight swept the interior of the house. Whoever was inside, it definitely wasn’t the homeowner .
“It’s that or die,” Steve whispered, moving Michael toward the railing before climbing over. The toes of his military-style black boots peeked through the railing’s vertical posts and were the only things holding him above the dizzying drop below .
“Then I’ll die,” Michael said with a hiss, angry that he had to rush his death rather than doing it on his own time. He should have let me jump when I’d wanted to .
“I swear to God—” Steve’s angry rant cut itself short when Michael took a single step backward, out of his reach. “Please, Michael ...”
Michael’s heart thudded a hard, skipped beat as Steve matched his entreating words by reaching out his hand. Yet, Michael squared his shoulders in the face of the truth. “I can’t make the climb. Go without me,” he whispered .
Steve’s hand kept reaching for him, unwavering .
A beam of light pierced the darkness to their right, before it disappeared down a path .
He’ll stay and die waiting for me, Michael realized .
Nodding his head in a silent yes, Michael took Steve’s hand and slid over the rail to perch on the porch’s edge next to Steve .
“Get on my back,” Steve directed .
Michael considered objecting, but he knew he couldn’t make the climb down on his own, and he knew they were running out of time. Moving carefully but with practiced ease, he shifted his body onto Steve’s back. Hooking one arm over Steve’s shoulder, he wedged his bent knees into Steve’s sides rather than trying to hook his legs around the bigger man. He didn’t want to impede Steve’s ability to move .
Once Michael was in place, Steve wasted no time, crab walking to the patio’s corner .
“Here,” Michael whispered, his mouth close enough to Steve’s ear that he was sure the heat of his breath could be felt. “One of the main girders of the house’s stilts should be right below us .”
To Michael’s surprise, Steve’s huge body shifted immediately, following Michael’s advice. Keeping his toes on the patio’s edge, he shifted his hands to shimmy down the railing’s posts. The move rounded Steve’s back as his body folded in on itself, and soon Michael found himself dangling from the big man’s shoulders as his feet swung over open air .
Let go, the little voice inside Michael’s head niggled at him. It would all be over so quickly. He closed his eyes. He let his muscles’ tension ease, and his arm slipped from its mooring by two inches. Let go ...
“Don’t leave me !”
Steve’s panicked whisper cut through Michael’s silent meditation, and the arm hooked over the big man’s shoulder tightened of its own accord .
I guess I’ll be staying after all, Michael mused, though he felt no humor. Life was a cruel mistress and he felt that he’d been playing by her rules for too long .
Steve’s body shifted again, his feet swinging free of the porch’s edge so that only his huge hands kept them aloft. He wrapped his legs around the enormous, solid wood timber stilt .
This is it. This is where we’ll die, Michael thought to himself in the moment before Steve reached for the pylon recessed more than a foot back. But they didn’t. Steve’s hands didn’t slip, his legs didn’t give way, and they didn’t fall to their deaths. Instead, the big man clung to the stilt, his breath loud and labored in his chest. His body shook from strain, but he held on. Less than a minute later, Michael’s feet touched ground. Safely .
Letting his arm slip from Steve’s shoulder, Michael’s entire side spasmed with pain as he attempted to lower it. He teetered off balance as his foot slipped on the steep hillside leading to the frigid lake a couple of hundred feet below. Moving with a speed Michael had not thought possible, Steve’s large hand wrapped itself around his wrist to steady him. But even after he’d been steadied, Steve’s hand held on .
“Come on,” Steve whispered, beginning the controlled skid down the steep slope .
Michael stayed close, shoulder to shoulder, and found himself glad more than once for the extra balance Steve’s anchoring hand provided. It felt odd to move over the earth and be so affected by its pull, but injured as he was, Michael suspected that he moved with the grace of a toddler first learning to walk. The last dozen feet were little more than a controlled fall for both of them .
As soon as they reached the bottom, Steve was on him, pulling and ripping at his clothes .
“Hey!” Michael knocked Steve’s hand away only to have it return, undeterred. “Get a room—with somebody else !”
Steve grabbed him, nearly lifting him off the ground as his rough hands forcefully stripped Michael’s shirt off. Bunching the shirt repeatedly in his fists like a baker kneadi
ng a ball of dough, Steve tossed it with a growl to the rocky ground before reaching for Michael’s pants .
“What the fuck!” Michael exclaimed, his voice going up an octave as he fought against the big man, knowing without a shred of doubt that it was a fight he was losing .
“Where is it?” Steve demanded .
“Where’s what? The gem? It’s in my pocket! Take it already, take it!” He pushed and turned in his struggles but nothing helped. When the zipper of Michael’s fly jammed, Steve tore the fabric .
Michael fell to the ground as Steve pulled his pants free from his legs. Again, Steve balled Michael’s displaced clothes into a tight wad before tossing them to the ground .
“The tracker. Where’s the tracker ?”
Michael tried to scramble backward as Steve advanced on him, but it was no use. Big hands canvassed his body, squeezing and touching every inch of him .
“They have a tracker on you,” Steve growled .
He flipped Michael onto his stomach as if he weighed nothing. Steve made fast work feeling his shoulders, back, and legs, but it was an indignity beyond what he wanted to endure when the big man yanked his boxer briefs down, the thin fabric ripping as Michael struggled .
Michael tried to escape again, but Steve shoved him down hard with a single hand between his shoulder blades, Steve’s thumb rubbing a deep trail over one of his bare ass cheeks .
“Found it — ”
“Yeah, my ass. You found my ass, you fucking pervert !”
“Shut up!” Steve hissed, and Michael went still when he heard the unmistakable click of a switchblade opening .
“Hey, we can talk about this?” Michael moved passed indignation and on to bargaining .
“It has to come out. I’m sorry,” was Steve’s gruff reply before searing pain had Michael fighting again .
