Murder Aforethought

by Parker St John

  “Yesss, just like that,” Maksim groaned. “I want to come all over those gorgeous muscles. Fuck… fuck!”

  Stripes of hot white liquid painted Val’s chest and throat. It felt amazing. His exhausted dick twitched back to halfhearted life, but he was too absorbed in watching the man above him come apart.

  Maksim was spectacular in the throes of orgasm. He was no longer cool or arrogant or sardonic. He wasn’t refined and untouchable. He was so damned raw, so desperate and beautiful in his release. His skin gleamed, and he threw his head back as he undulated on top of Val.

  Val gloried in the sight of him.

  In that crystalline moment, he knew this man. They were there, together, on a level he’d never even approached with his countless random fucks. Maksim was real. He was kind and lonely, and so goddamn breathtaking that Val felt a pang in his heart.

  Maksim came off his high slowly. His body relaxed one muscle group at a time. His eyes refocused. He slid like butter off Val’s body and collapsed beside him.

  Val trailed his fingers through the spend on his chest. For a crazy moment, he wanted to rub it into his skin, until the scent sank deep into muscle and bone and blood. This man could claim him. He could wrap himself up in Maksim’s safety and respectability and pretend he hadn’t fucked up his own life beyond any hope of repair.

  It was a nice dream.

  “You were right,” Maksim said. He turned his head to smile languidly at Val. “That wasn’t stupid. That was one of my better decisions to date.”

  Val managed a smile. He took Maksim’s hand and kissed his fingers.

  He wanted to return the sentiment, to tell Maksim that he would sell his soul just to see him come alive on top of him like that again. But he didn’t have a soul. He’d forfeited it long ago.

  No orgasm in the world was strong enough to call it back.

  18

  Maksim

  The winter sky was all pale blue and cotton candy pink with the sunrise.

  They’d risen in the dark after a night of fitful sleep, packed their supplies, and taken the back roads of the Columbia River away from town.

  Mt. Hood loomed like Everest on the horizon. A patchwork of farms sprawled between the road and river, dotted with a mix of evergreens and scrub brush. The drive to the Wasco Alternative Power Station was only set to take them half an hour, according to the truck’s GPS. But during that drive it hailed, then the sun came out, then it rained. Now a warm wind blew in through Maksim’s cracked window.

  “And I thought Portland weather was crazy,” Maksim remarked as he turned off the windshield wipers.

  “It’s beautiful in the spring,” Val said between bites of the breakfast sandwich they’d picked up at a drive-thru. “Wildflowers all over the place.”

  “You’ve been here before?”

  “Class trip in high school. The Washington side of the river has a fake Stonehenge.”

  Maksim took a sip of coffee. It was terrible, but he was a man who regularly drank police station brews. He wasn’t picky.

  “Why Stonehenge?” he asked.

  Val shrugged. “I don’t remember. Some war memorial, I think.”

  “Would you ever live in a place like this?” he asked curiously.

  “Me? I’m a city boy, born and bred.” He looked out the window at a naked cherry orchard. “I guess I appreciate the quiet here, though. It’s peaceful. Maybe I’ll relocate if I’m still alive when all this is over. It’s not like I’ve got anyone to stick around for now that Mom and Pop are gone.”

  Maksim silently turned onto a dirt road with a large private property sign.

  “What about you?” Val asked.

  “I prefer non-bovine neighbors.”

  They hadn’t discussed the night before. Maksim knew they should. It was undeniably on both their minds, hanging between their sentences, lurking in their sideways glances.

  They’d shared a bed, partly out of exhaustion and partly because Maksim had hoped a living body beside him would keep Val’s nightmares at bay. It hadn’t. He’d woken them both with his thrashing at least half a dozen times. It was another thing they didn’t speak about when they finally got out of bed, but Val had looked ashamed when Maksim ordered triple shots of espresso in his coffee.

  He pulled the truck to a stop in front of a ten foot metal gate. It was locked. Beyond the gate, the dirt road twisted around a few rolling hills and disappeared.

  “This it?” he asked.

  Val nodded.

  “I did some googling last night. The wind farm is hundreds of acres. Where are you planning on finding Russo, assuming he didn’t change his plans about visiting today?”

  “I hear a hell of a lot of skepticism coming from that side of the cab.” Val had a smile in his voice.

  “It’s the lawyer in me.”

  “Hmm.” Val sipped his coffee. “You think I’ve been winging it this whole time without you, huh? Guess I need some lawyer in me, too.”

  The way his voice deepened sent a bolt of lust straight to Maksim’s groin. He shifted and casually pressed the heel of his hand against his dick.

  Val chuckled. “But to answer your question, we aren’t going through the main gate. Like you said, the place is hundreds of acres. No one has any interest in fucking with a bunch of metal windmills, so the back roads just have farm gates with padlocks. Easy enough to break. Here, take that sheep trail to the left over there. It’ll lead you to Copperhead Road.”

  “This is the most dirt this truck has ever seen,” Maksim declared as he shifted to reverse, executed a tight turn, and headed down the rut-filled road. Mud splashed onto the grill and over the hood.

  “There’s one equipment substation in the middle of the property,” Val explained. “Russo will check that out, regardless. That’s where I’ll be waiting.”

  “That’s where we will be waiting,” Maksim corrected.

  “Nope. You’ll be with the truck, far enough away that you can’t catch a stray bullet.”

  “Like hell,” he snarled.

  Val set his coffee in the cup holder since the truck was joggling too much to take a drink. “Look,” he said calmly, “you have no idea how much I appreciate how rock solid you’ve been the past couple days. You don’t deserve all the shit I dumped at your doorstep. I know you want to help, but you don’t know these people. No matter what kind of metropolitan badass you think you are, you aren’t ready for the kind of blood that’ll spill if things go wrong.”

  “Isn’t that for me to decide?”

  “No.” Val stared out the windshield. His jaw was clenched so hard that a muscle ticked in his cheek. “No, your front row seat to this shitshow is more than enough. I’m not getting you killed.”

  “If you’re killed, I’ll likely die anyway,” Maksim pointed out. “As you said, I don’t know these people. But they sure as hell know me and Emma. Don’t act like I don’t have skin in this game.”

  “Fuck.” Val scrubbed his hands through his hair. “I don’t want you down there with me!”

  They crested a hill. Beneath them was a sloping plain, covered with hundreds of thirty foot posts with enormous propellers on top. They were spaced at regular intervals, like rows in a giant’s vegetable garden. At the base of the hill sat a small, square building with a metal roof and a generator.

  “Okay. In that case, how about I stay with the truck and the rifle?”

  Val drummed his fingers against the armrest. “Have you ever fired a weapon?”

  “Not even a BB Gun,” he said cheerfully. “But I’m sure I can point and shoot far enough away to not accidently hit you. I may not hit anyone else, but it’ll let them know you’re not alone. Tell them there’s a sniper in the wings.”

  “A sniper who can’t hit the broad side of a barn.”

  “Call it a warning shot.”

  Val shook his head, but there was something that resembled a smile touching his mouth. He picked up his coffee, took a long drink, and gazed out over the desolate landscape.


  “We can offroad the truck to the back of that little western hill.” He pointed through the windshield. “There’s only two roads they can take into the substation, so they won’t see the truck. You can lay flat at the top of the hill and watch through the scope. If I give you the signal, you fire off one warning shot, then hop in the truck and burn rubber.”

  “And leave you there?”

  “Your distraction is all I’ll need. I’ll be fine. I’ll take their car and meet you at the motel.”

  “If you’ll be fine, why do I need to leave?”

  “Jesus Christ, has anyone ever won an argument with you?”

  “Not that I recall.” Maksim winked.

  Val rolled his eyes. “Look, you need to leave because it will make me feel better, okay? I can’t do what I need to do if I’m worrying about you. Knowing you’re going to follow the plan will keep my head in the game.”

  Maksim examined him critically. The way he wouldn’t meet his eyes, the tense line of his shoulders, the telltale flush rising up the back of his neck, they all indicated one thing. Val was ashamed. Ashamed of his association with criminals? Or ashamed of how easy it was for him to kill?

  Some of Val’s life choices were problematic, but he couldn’t say he found them terribly unethical. But in the end, it didn’t matter how Maksim felt about Val’s choices. It mattered what Val thought of himself, and he clearly thought of himself as a killer.

  Poor kid. The thought came unbidden to Maksim’s mind.

  He impulsively reached across the divide to wrap his hand around Val’s hot neck and pull him into a kiss as gentle as air. He pulled back and looked straight into those gorgeous gray eyes. “Okay,” he lied. “We’ll do this your way.”

  Val brought his hands up to cradle Maksim’s face and drew him close for a longer kiss. It was probably a kiss of gratitude, or at least it began that way, but Maksim grabbed Val by the jaw and took more. His mouth was so lush, so giving. He kissed like a man who hadn’t had much kissing in his life, like it was something he’d never known he enjoyed until now.

  Maksim was ready to yank him over the center console, but Val turned his head and broke their kiss.

  “We can’t waste time.” He sounded regretful. “We don’t know what time Russo will show up.”

  Maksim reluctantly shifted the truck into drive. They bumped and jostled across the hill as slowly as possible, so the big wheels wouldn’t churn tracks into the vegetation, and parked on the far side.

  Val tucked his handgun into his waistband and covered it with the hem of his sweatshirt. Then he retrieved the rifle and a box of ammunition from the backseat.

  “Right. Let’s get you set up,” he said.

  They walked to the apex of the hill. With a little groan, Val plopped down and braced the rifle on its stock between his legs. He patted the damp grass beside him, and Maksim lowered himself to the ground. The wet grass immediately soaked into the seat of his jeans.

  “Okay, so your friend has good taste. This is a Barrett M95. It has a manual thumb-lever safety here.” He pointed to the safety. “Keep it on unless you’re absolutely sure you need to take a warning shot.”

  Maksim nodded his understanding.

  “It’s a manual bolt-action, so I’m going to walk you through the steps.” He put a hand on Maksim’s shoulders and guided him to stretch out on his stomach.

  There was a smoothness to his motions that spoke of long familiarity as he adjusted the scope and squinted at the view. Maksim had never seen the man so comfortable in the short time they’d known each other. He watched the graceful competency of his fingers, the chiseled line of his jaw, and felt a pang that Val’s guilt and shame could have taken such a toll on him.

  Val looked up from the scope and flashed a boyish smile. Maksim had to resist the urge to lean over and claim his mouth.

  “Here, take a peek,” Val said, scooting to make room. “See that rain barrel about fifty feet from the building?”

  Maksim peeked through the scope. A large blue barrel sat dead in the crosshairs. He nodded.

  “If I need a distraction, I’ll raise my hand, and that’s what you shoot. Don’t get fancy and try to aim for anything else, for the love of Christ, or you might hit me.”

  “Ye of such little faith,” Maksim said.

  “Oh, I have faith in you, or I wouldn’t be letting you fire a bullet anywhere near me.”

  Maksim couldn’t deny the logic of that. He sat up and dusted off his hands. The idea of Val going down there to face a violent crime boss had settled like a block of ice in his stomach.

  He shook his head. “You shouldn’t have to do this.”

  Val sat up, guarding his injured side with a protective hand. He draped one arm over his upraised knee and sighed, looking out at the rolling lines of windmills that stretched to the horizon.

  “I have options,” he mumbled. “I could relocate. Chances are they wouldn’t find me on my own. I wouldn’t even be losing much, because what kind of life do I have here anymore? But that means whoever ruined my parents’ lives goes free, and that still leaves you and Emma at risk.”

  “We could go to the police. Nilsson is a straight shooter, and Miguel has friends in the department. I have a friend with the D.A. You could turn evidence and maybe get into WitSec.”

  Val was already shaking his head.

  “If Russo is behind this, he has guys everywhere. He would find us in any program. If it isn’t him? We’re betting your safety on trusting the right people. Are you that trusting? I’m not willing to leave your safety to chance like that. Are you?”

  Maksim brushed a knuckle across Val’s sharp cheekbone. “Not ordinarily,” he admitted.

  Val looked like he wanted to smile, but the desire quickly faded. “Besides,” he said solemnly. “No matter my reasons, I’m the one who chose this life. I was the one who wasn’t smart enough to find another way. I’ve got ghosts following me, Maks, and I need to see this through or I’ll never be able to look myself in the mirror again.”

  “And if you’re killed?”

  Val shrugged. “The threat of death has never been a big deterrent for me, or I would’ve made a piss poor Marine. I wonder if Russo knew that when he came for me? He didn’t threaten me. He threatened my parents. That was enough.”

  Maksim sighed. “Just remember that Emma and I have a terrible chance of surviving this if you get yourself killed.”

  He took Maksim’s hand and set it on top of his thigh, lacing their fingers together and squeezing once. His eyes were cold as steel when he said, “I know.”

  19

  Val

  They sat around in the damp and the fresh air for two hours before Val finally spotted the gleam of sunlight on an approaching vehicle.

  He flattened himself onto his belly and took a quick look through the scope of the rifle. A black SUV was winding down the muddy road beneath them, still a fair distance off. The windows had aftermarket tints, so it was impossible to get a head count.

  He sighed. “I better get down there.”

  Before he could heave himself to his feet, Maksim grabbed his wrist and yanked him into a hard kiss.

  Val couldn’t help but sink into the warmth of his mouth, despite the tension pounding down on top of him like a waterfall. The way Maksim kissed was like nothing he’d ever experienced anywhere else in the world. It was hot and deliciously firm and somehow… reassuring. Like he could make his home in it. Val allowed himself to lick up some of that comfort before pulling away.

  “Be careful, Valentine Rivetti.”

  He gave Maksim a wink as he climbed to his feet and checked his weapon. “Remember your promise.”

  The substation was a quick jog down the hill. It was a small building with a metal roof and dirty white siding. Apart from the rain barrel and a few pieces of heavy machinery, there was nothing within five hundred feet, so there wasn’t anything to conceal his presence.

  He leaned against the building’s cool shingles and es
timated he had about ninety seconds before the SUV’s driver caught sight of him. He closed his eyes for a brief moment and felt the pale winter sunshine on his face. A breeze ruffled his hair.

  There were worse places to die. Hell, he’d been to many of them. All things considered, he’d rather die here, with the taste of Maksim in his mouth.

  Despite everything he’d said to Maksim, there was more than a fair chance of his being murdered today.

  He was forcing a mob boss to meet with him. The way he saw it, there were only three possible outcomes.

  The first possibility was that Russo was the one who’d ordered the murders on his own people, despite how nonsensical it would be. If that was the case, there was no chance of Val walking away from this place.

  It was also possible Dominic Russo had nothing to do with the recent violence, but would be so offended at Val’s gall that he’d kill him, anyway.

  There was an off chance Russo wasn’t involved and didn’t plan on taking action, despite the increase in mobbed-up bodies turning up in the city. That was the least likely possibility, as far as Val could figure.

  Thank God that Maksim Kovalenko was, above all things, a practical man. He was a good man. Val had no doubt of that, but he knew Maksim’s strong sense of self-preservation would keep him safe. He’d proven himself resourceful and unshakeable. He might hate leaving Val behind, but he would, and he’d find a way to keep himself and Emma safe.

  Val needed to believe that. He needed to believe that, or the guilt of having dragged him into this mess would torment him to his last breath.

  The SUV had slowed to a crawl, so he stepped clear of the building. After a moment, it picked up speed again, coming in faster than before. It pulled to a stop in front of him. He shut one eye as mud splattered up from the tires and struck his face.

  Both front doors opened and two men in dark suits stepped out. He didn’t recognize the driver, but he noticed the way he unbuttoned his suit jacket for easier access to his shoulder holster.