Retribution

by Evelyn Drake

  Sigmund stood at Michael’s side with an enormous smile. His eyes had lost their hold on humanity and gleamed with the joy of a zealot, lost within his experience .

  Steve had never seen anybody look so happy, and it was terrifying .

  Dangling from Sigmund’s hand was one thigh-high stocking. At its toe-tip was what looked like a baseball .

  “What are you? Reliving your glory days? Or, couldn’t you get anybody to play ball with you in high school?” Steve goaded, moving at an angle to Michael. As he’d hoped, Sigmund kept pace directly opposite him, which moved the maniac away from Michael .

  “Oh, a few played with me. They didn’t like it, but then I never gave them the chance to say no.” Sigmund began twirling the balled hose like a pair of nunchucks .

  Steve could see the skill in his simple movement, and it alerted him to the fight ahead. He felt like Quasimodo with his hunched and deformed back. As the two circled, Steve’s instincts told him that he might not come out on top .

  I’ve got to cut Michael loose. Got to give him a chance to run. But, when Steve’s arching circle inched him closer to Michael than Sigmund was, Sigmund moved forward with a smile until his shoulder was parallel with Michael. He kept more than five feet away. Steve saw that Sigmund wouldn’t be making the mistakes of his too-dumb-to-live henchmen upstairs .

  “Okay,” Steve said, giving his neck a stretch and accepting his uncertain fate. He advanced on Sigmund and Sigmund’s smile got brighter, excited by the challenge .

  As soon as Steve was nearly in Sigmund’s range, Sigmund lunged forward with the ball twirling in a fast, tight arc toward Steve’s deformed shoulder .

  Steve tilted so the ball’s blow glanced down the line of his back. The scorch of the nylon left a burning trail down his skin. But he didn’t back off from the fight. He lunged forward towards Sigmund .

  With the pommel of the blade in his good hand, Steve drove a straight punch into the flat of Sigmund’s face. The impact snapped Sigmund’s head back, exposing his neck. With a backward follow-through swipe of the blade, Steve cut at Sigmund’s throat .

  The blade’s trajectory was true and it sliced through flesh, but it was barely more than a shaving cut .

  Sigmund went low, swiping at Steve’s legs. Steve jumped it but couldn’t dodge a follow up swing of the ball into the hinge of his hip .

  Steve faltered to the side and limped a tight turning circle. He saw the nylon’s movement and stepped backward into Sigmund, driving the blade into the bone of Sigmund’s thigh. He had to yank hard on the handle to pull the blade free .

  Sigmund’s attack missed when his body reacted to Steve’s attack, but he didn’t cry out. Sigmund’s smile didn’t even fade and his eyes shone brighter, but there was less glee in them now and more acceptance that he’d finally found an opponent worthy of his particular gifts .

  Steve stepped away, slicing at Sigmund’s cheeks. Sigmund tossed his head back to avoid the blade, but this time, instead of cutting, Steve followed up with a punch to Sigmund’s exposed throat with the butt of the knife’s handle .

  Sigmund’s legs wobbled. With his hands on his throat, he went down. His breath wheezed, his windpipe crushed .

  Stepping behind him, Steve tried to use his free hand, then remembered his dislodged shoulder .

  “Lift your chin if you want this to be clean,” Steve warned. He waited a heartbeat, then Sigmund lifted his face to the heavens. His eyes were still alight with whatever fervor held him, but they dimmed when Steve dragged the blade across his neck deep enough to cut tendons .

  Stepping back, he let Sigmund’s body slump to the floor .

  Michael sat curled in the fetal position a few paces away. Stepping over Sigmund’s body, Steve had Michael cut loose a moment later. He ached to be able to carry Michael, but couldn’t .

  “Get up, baby,” Steve encouraged. “I’ve got you now, but you need to get up.” He helped Michael to his feet, and Michael put his arms around Steve and held on as if his life depended on it. There he cried out his anguish and his pain as Steve kissed his head .

  “I need your help, babe,” Steve said once the tears had subsided. “Hold my arm while I twist it. Hold it tight .”

  Michael jerked in surprise when Steve’s shoulder popped loud enough to fill the room with its sound, and Steve paced in a small circle until the pain subsided enough that he could hear his own thoughts again .

  “We got to go, baby,” Steve prompted Michael again. That they both stood there naked wasn’t even a part of Steve’s escape equation. He just wanted gone from that house, that place .

  “At the back of the estate, there’s a guest cottage .”

  “Can you walk ?”

  Michael nodded, and bent to retrieve the stone—tucked away at the toe-end of Sigmund’s weaponized stocking .

  “We walk,” Steve said quietly, looking at the stone in Michael’s hand. Interlocking his fingers with Michael’s, they left Michael’s childhood home together, putting death and the souls it had claimed behind them. Forever .

  20

  Michael

  T he winding path that led them to the back of the estate could have been easily overlooked as the garden’s vegetation got heavier. But that was as it was designed. It was meant to be a private spot for guests to stay, one that felt as if it had its own existence separate from the mansion. Luckily, the moon was high and bright, and Michael’s memory proved true, leading them down the small garden path—not unlike Adam and Adam—to the picturesque, fairy-like opening that framed the hide-away cottage that Michael had loved as a boy .

  Michael said a small prayer followed by a moment of thanks when he turned the handle. It wasn’t as if they couldn’t break into the small cottage, but they’d seen enough destruction and Michael’s soul was tired from it .

  Stepping inside the one-story cottage, Michael flipped the light, then looked back at Steve to find him leaning against the doorframe, winded .

  “You okay ?”

  Steve nodded his head. “I will be.” His eyes turned hard. “I want a shower .”

  Michael’s own need to wash the filth off was intense. “It okay if we share one ?”

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” was Steve’s gruff reply. He took Michael’s hand and lead them forward, but it was Michael who guided them to the bathroom .

  With the shower’s water steaming, they stepped in, already naked. Steve turned his back to Michael, tired and wordless as he lifted his powerful arms above his head and rested his forearms on the cool tile above. Retrieving a bar of soap, Michael washed his back, letting his hands explore and follow the lines of his muscles .

  “What did they do to you?” Michael asked .

  “It doesn’t matter now,” Steve said, turning around with a groan as he lowered the arm of his damaged shoulder. He wrapped his arms around Michael and pulled the smaller man to him. “I can’t lose you,” he whispered, shaking his head. “Anything but you .”

  Michael bit the inside of his lip before he spoke. “I’m sorry about Charlize .”

  Steve’s eye twitched and his gaze grew distant as if he were living it all again. But, with a sharp shake of his head, he was back. “She was never going to make it to old age .”

  Steve’s answer surprised Michael, its dismissive callousness making him want to pull away. But Steve’s hold on him was firm .

  “Just like me,” Steve continued, his gaze locked with Michael’s, “just like I’m never going to make it to old age .”

  Michael did pull away that time, putting distance between them as if that would diminish the pain of the emotional slap Steve had just given him .

  “The chance of either of us growing old went away the day we signed on with Operations .”

  Michael’s eyes narrowed. “But you’re not a part of that now, are you? I mean, not anymore, not really .”

  Steve shrugged. “They might not be a part of me, but I am most assuredly a part of them—my name big and bold on th
eir company roster .”

  Michael stalled by lathering the soap and washing himself, but Steve took the soap away from him, lathered, and began to wash Michael’s body. He turned him as he pleased, following the lean lines of his form wherever his fingers took him .

  “Do you want to be a part of them ?”

  “No.” Steve’s answer was simple and absolute. “Do you want to remain a part of the Family ?”

  “No.” Michael’s answer was equally absolute. “What do we do about it?” he asked after a pause .

  “Monica will never stop hunting me. Should have finished her off when we had the chance .”

  “Chandler—the Family’s Papa—he’s obsessed with me .”

  “So I’ve got some competition. Good to know .”

  Michael cracked his first smile since leaving his family behind .

  “You know you’re pretty, but I’m not going to let you fuck me tonight,” Steve teased as he leaned in for a kiss .

  Michael filled his palm with shampoo before going to work on Steve’s hair. Steve hissed as Michael’s fingers brushed the bruised lump at the back of his skull .

  “Sorry about that,” Michael said, wincing in sympathy .

  “Mmmmm,” Steve growled, advancing on Michael for another kiss, “you should be sorry .”

  “What happened to you not getting fucked tonight?” Michael laughed as his hand slid around Steve’s hip to let his fingers trail between the cheeks of his firm ass .

  “I’m not... we’re not,” he amended when Michael pulled his kiss back with a look of warning, and Steve blushed .

  “You’re so fucking cute,” Michael laughed, but his laughter stopped as he trailed his fingers down Steve’s chest. “Face the wall .”

  “No.”

  “It wasn’t a suggestion,” Michael said, heat filling his eyes .

  Steve hesitated and then did as he was told, turning his back to Michael. Michael guided him in, lifting his strong arms high above his head .

  “Lean in,” Michael said, his voice barely loud enough over the water’s spray. Again, Steve did as he was told, and moaned when Michael wrapped his hand around Steve’s shaft. He rolled his softness in his fingers before stroking its underside, and was rewarded by its growth. It wasn’t long before Michael’s hand found the rhythm that had Steve moaning as his hips pumped forward with a need to sink into something .

  “What about you,” he groaned as Michael felt his length thicken in his hand .

  “This is just for you,” Michael said, kissing Steve’s back between his shoulder blades. When Steve groaned again, Michael caught Steve’s flesh in his teeth and held him. His hand quickened its pace as he shortened his stroke, and reaching between Steve’s legs, Michael cupped and gently pulled Steve’s balls .

  It was the magic touch that Steve needed to push him over the edge, and with several tilted thrusts forward, Steve painted the tile wall with his cum. When they were done, he slouched again the wall and struggled to regain his breath .

  “Hey, hey... you okay?” Michael asked again .

  Steve nodded. “Worn out. This place got a bed ?”

  “With a pillow top mattress,” Michael said with a smile and was rewarded with an answering smile from Steve .

  Fifteen minutes later, Michael carried a tray of candles and food into the bedroom. Steve already lay on the bed, his head resting on his arms. His eyes were open and he watched Michael with seemingly patient curiosity .

  “I found a pouch of smoked salmon in the kitchen and some beers. You’re going to eat before you sleep .”

  “And the candles?” Steve asked as Michael set them up on a chest of drawers across from the bed. He lit all three before turning off the light. Their soft glow illuminated the entire room in a way that felt as if the rest of the world didn’t exist. Only each other .

  “The candles,” Michael said, climbing onto the bed and setting down the tray of food, “are because I like them .”

  “You sure you’re not the bottom ?”

  Michael laughed. “Which felt better, coming with my dick in your ass or with my hand wrapped around your cock ?”

  Steve shifted his hips as if he were remembering what it felt like to have Michael inside of him, and a small moan escaped his lips .

  Michael laughed again before leaning forward to kiss Steve’s lips. “I’m sure, baby .”

  “Don’t you like it... when somebody is in your ass?” His voice got tight as if he regretted the implications of his question halfway through .

  Michael shrugged. “Sometimes. I’ve only done it a few times, but it always left me wanting.” At Steve’s scrunched expression of confusion, Michael continued his explanation. “It’s the pleasure I see in another person that does it for me, and there’s no more beautiful a sight than a man moaning on my cock .”

  Steve smiled, his gaze falling away from Michael’s as his cheeks heated .

  “So fucking cute,” Michael laughed again and laid down next to Steve. Steve’s arm went around him, pulling his back against the bigger man’s chest. Within moments, Steve’s breathing changed to the steady in-out of someone asleep, and Michael knew that getting him to eat before sleep was no longer part of the plan .

  Twisting his body as much as he could without disturbing Steve, he opened one of the beers and took a long drag, letting the coldness of it fill his belly before the warmth of the alcohol reached out to ease the rest of him. His entire body hurt from his head to his toes, and he closed his eyes as the beer eased his tight muscles and took him a little closer to sleep .

  The vision of his sister tied to a chair remained frozen in his mind, and he could see it whether his eyes were open or closed. But when his eyes were closed, the image became more of a memory and grew life-like instead. His heart ached along with his body, and he closed in eyes in quiet thanks that his sister would now be spared from any of the harshness life had hidden in its folds of time .

  Free. But was it a freedom she truly wanted? He knew what she had said, but those could have been the voice of lost hope .

  The uncertainty of it sat heavy on his stomach, and he picked up the opaque and flawed uncut diamond to study it as his mind drifted. The candle’s light caught it in a spectral prism splashed across the bedroom’s pale walls. He turned the stone in his hands as he held it aloft, wondering which side of it had been stamping its imprint into his body via Sigmund’s skillful hands .

  The light changed as he turned the stone, becoming clear but blotchy on the walls. He turned it some more and the blotchiness sharpened before becoming unfocused again. His curiosity piqued, he turned the stone again, trying to recapture the flaws within once more with the sharp clarity that the candle light offered .

  Michael sat up on one elbow as the light once more lost all color besides the shadows. He watched as the shadows lost their blur and became defined. He watched as something which was nature-made showed itself to hold man-made secrets. Dots, thousands and thousands of dots filled the walls in varying patterns .

  “Steve,” he whispered, eager to share his findings, but Steve’s soft snore was all that answered him .

  Michael looked again at the stone and then at the pattern of light and shadow that danced across the walls in every direction. The amount of information the stone held within seemed limitless as the dots blurred and then reformed in new patterns when the stone was tilted the barest degree .

  “It’s why they all want it,” Michael whispered. “It’s information—it’s power .”

  He set the stone down on the bed, once more inert and secretive. Staring at it, he took another swig of his beer .

  Freedom... The little voice within his head whispered. How can we use it to get what we want ?

  He was already free now, freer than he had been in years. The Family had stripped away all that could be used as leverage to control him—all but one, he reminded himself as he took in Steve’s warmth at his back .

  “But that won’t stop them from hunting m
e,” he whispered, working it through step by step. And Operations would hunt Steve. They would never be free, not in any way that was meaningful for a lifetime. They would always be on the run, looking over their shoulders. And eventually, Steve might actually lose the fight to save him. It was a risk of inevitability. Time was not on their side. The variable would play out over and over, and eventually they wouldn’t come out in his or Steve’s favor .

  “But you change everything, don’t you, little darlin’,” Michael said, studying the stone where it lay on the bed. It looked like nothing more than a pretty paperweight .

  Putting down his empty beer bottle, Michael lay back down into Steve’s arms and was rewarded by the man snuggling closer to him. Michael rested his hand on Steve’s hip as he closed his eyes and willed sleep to take him .

  The vision of his sister haunted him and he opened and reopened his eyes time and time again. Finally, with another beer down, he sank into Steve’s arms once more. He stared at the opaque, uncut diamond on the bed inches before his eyes. He stared at it and willed his mind to see nothing else until the arms of sleep caressed him and pulled him in. He saw it and only it, and in the shadows beyond it, he saw the chance of a future. With Steve .

  21

  Steve

  S teve rolled over in bed, then groaned as pain pulled him awake. He’d rolled onto the shoulder he’d dislocated, and it complained intensely at being lifted above his head while he slept .

  Groaning and wishing he could sleep longer, Steve rolled onto his back. But the smell of fresh brewed coffee soon had him opening his eyes. The smell of bacon reached him next, and while he couldn’t smell them, his belly rumbled in the hopes that there might be pancakes and eggs somewhere in that mix as well .