Murder Aforethought

by Parker St John

“Could’ve been any of his capos,” Val supplied. “Maybe a rep from the Russian side of things. But my money is on his wife.”

  “His wife?”

  “Mary Russo isn’t the typical mafia wife who spends her days buying new furs. She likes to be hands-on.”

  “I’ll ask my buddy if he’s got anything on her,” Miguel offered.

  “No,” Maksim insisted. “Keep your head down from now on.”

  “No worries, bro. I’ve got a hungover terminator here to keep us safe. Hey, how’s my truck?”

  Maksim disconnected the call without answering.

  Val regarded him with a strange twist to his lips. “You enjoy being an asshole, don’t you?” he asked.

  “There’s a certain satisfaction to it, yes.”

  Val smiled and looked out the window again.

  “I hated Russo for what he put my family through,” he announced suddenly. “But I still have this sick feeling in my gut.”

  “That’s a natural reaction.”

  “I keep thinking I did it.”

  Maksim pulled into the parking lot of the West Lake Inn and cut the engine. Neither of them moved.

  “You mean you feel guilty?” he asked carefully.

  “No.” Val closed his eyes and sucked in an aggravated breath. “I think I did it. I’ve made so many headshots. I close my eyes, and I see it, and I have to remind myself that he wasn’t mine. I wasn’t the one who pulled the trigger this time. How fucking scrambled is my head if I can’t keep a basic fact like that in it?”

  “As I understand, PTSD can play with your sense of time and place. Apart from that, you’re under extraordinary amounts of stress and have been for some time. You’re injured, and you haven’t slept nearly enough in the past forty-eight hours. All those things wreak havoc on your perception.”

  “You’ve got an answer for everything, don’t you?” Val’s pale eyes gleamed.

  “If I don’t, it’s easy enough to reason something out.” He reached across the cab and brushed his knuckles over the hollow of Val’s cheek. “No good comes from wallowing in guilt, Val. It’s just circling the drain. There’s only one destination when you do it.”

  Val’s lashes drifted closed at his touch, but they snapped open a second later. He shook himself and blinked rapidly.

  “You hungry?” he asked bracingly.

  Maksim let it go. For now. “I could eat.”

  * * *

  Val

  Neither of them were up for being in public, so they ordered takeout from a Chinese place down the block. Maksim ran to pick up the food while Val took a shower.

  He turned the water up as hot as it could go and stepped beneath the spray, wishing fiercely for a cold beer to magically appear in there with him. He took a ridiculously long time, washing up, rinsing crusted blood from his neck, and poking at the swollen flesh around his stitches.

  He shouldn’t be getting the stitches wet, but he couldn’t bring himself to give a fuck.

  He pressed his forehead against the cold tile and let the spray pound down on him.

  If he could just stop the spinning of his brain for a minute, he knew he’d be okay. All he needed was to not think of Russo’s eyes, empty as polished marbles. But every time he forced himself to think of something else, he’d see his mother’s gray complexion as he pulled her from her poison filled car.

  He remembered the last words he’d ever spoken to his father. Pop had been blaming himself for his wife’s death, but it hadn’t felt like enough. Val had wanted the weight of his selfishness to come down and crush him. Pop had just stood there and taken every hateful word Val had yelled. When he’d left, he was bent and shrunken, like an old man. He’d stopped on the threshold of Val’s apartment and looked over his shoulder, but he hadn’t been able to meet Val’s eyes. He just stared somewhere at the level of his knees and said, “I love you, Valentine.”

  He was dead by morning.

  Val thought he should be crying, remembering that look on his face. But he wasn’t. He’d given lots of tears to his mother, but he hadn’t even cried when he stuck his father in the ground. He was bone dry.

  Russo had said he was loyal. They’d all been loyal, every single one of the bodies that had turned up in the last six months. All except Esposito, who Russo had confessed to killing himself.

  Some things are personal, Russo had said.

  What could Robert Esposito have done to infuriate the crime boss enough to take matters into his own hands? Why had Brent Miller and Vito been at Esposito’s club at the same time the day after his murder?

  Who had they been meeting?

  What was he missing?

  He thumped his fist against the shower wall.

  When he finally exited the bathroom on a cloud of steam, Maksim was sorting fragrant white cartons on the dinette table. He glanced up long enough for his eyes to roam Val’s body, but he politely turned his attention back to the food as Val dressed.

  They were out of clean clothing, so Val pulled on his muddy pants but left the blood-spattered sweatshirt on the floor.

  “You need a dry bandage,” Maksim reminded him.

  “Food first.” He plopped down into a chair and hauled over the nearest carton.

  “That’s the orange chicken. If you eat all of it, I’ll kill you.”

  Val snatched up a pair of chopsticks and popped a piece of chicken into his mouth. “Did you know I can kill a man with chopsticks?” he asked around his mouthful.

  Maksim rolled his eyes, grabbed the carton from him, and dumped half of it onto a paper plate. He handed it back. “We need to talk,” he said.

  “Yeah.”

  “What did Russo say?”

  “He killed Esposito, but said he had nothing to do with the other murders.”

  “Considering he’s dead, I’m inclined to believe him.”

  Val huffed out a breath of a laugh. “Yeah.”

  “Did you learn anything else?”

  “Not much.” Val dug through his chicken listlessly. “Russo thought Pop was just using Esposito for his club full of girls. He didn’t have any side hustle going. Esposito was different though. Russo was furious, even after killing him. He said something about how men just need to handle some things on their own.”

  “That sounds very personal.”

  Maksim was an elegant eater. He handled his chopsticks like a pro, chewed well, and used a napkin. Val wondered if his mother had taught him manners, or if it was something he’d learned so he wouldn’t stand out at his fancy prep school. It was probably second nature to him now, after a lifetime as the cream at the top.

  Maksim took a sip of water and asked, “Who do you think was shooting from inside that car?”

  Val tore his gaze away from those frosty eyes and looked down at his meal. He tried to recollect the exact sequence of events from the wind farm. Russo had been in the middle of saying something about family, hadn’t he?

  They can break your heart.

  “It has to be the wife.”

  “What’s she like?”

  “I’ve only met her once,” he said thoughtfully, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling as he searched his memory. “She seemed… nice. It was kind of a surprise, someone like her marrying a guy like Russo. He was two decades older than…”

  He trailed off, eyes flying up to scan Maksim more closely.

  “I’m forty-two.” Maksim sounded amused.

  Val cleared his throat. “Not two decades, then.”

  “Not quite.” He was smirking, just a little. “Is that a problem for you?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “Good.”

  They both turned their attention back to their food at the exact same moment. They ate in silence for a while, then Val said, “Anyway, from everything I’ve ever seen or heard, Mary’s a good person. She kept tabs on Russo. I think she probably steered him away from the most heinous shit. Tried to, anyway.”

  “Yet, she married him. She knew what he was.”

&nb
sp; “Yeah. So… what? She didn’t like how Russo was running things?”

  “Perhaps. By all accounts, Robert Esposito was an ambitious man. They may have planned a coup together.”

  “Then why would Russo kill him and leave her?”

  “He might not have known she was involved in his plans. He might not have wanted to believe it. This is, of course, presuming she was the one in that car.”

  Val braced his elbows on the table and buried his face in his hands. “This is so fucked up,” he muttered, pressing his fingertips into his eyelids until he saw stars. “My life is so fucked up.”

  “I’ve seen worse,” Maksim assured him. He rose and went to him, threading his fingers through Val’s short hair.

  The touch was enough to make Val’s entire body shudder. He pressed his face against Maksim’s flat stomach and squeezed his eyes shut, focused only on the soothing feel of those strong fingers massaging his scalp.

  God in heaven, it felt good. No lover had ever touched him like this. It reminded him of his mother, but not. It was masculine, and it was sexy, but it was pure comfort. It felt like… home.

  He swallowed thickly. “You’ll be gone as soon as this is over.”

  “Will I?”

  “You don’t need a shit magnet hanging around your neck.”

  Those fingers tugged hard enough to make Val’s scalp sting. It brought his head up, so Maksim could meet his eyes. “You’ve had a run of bad luck; I’ll grant you that. You’ve made some bad choices. But this is where my two extra decades come into play. Trust me when I tell you, the way things are right now won’t last forever. Things change. You change.”

  “Have you changed?”

  Maksim’s mouth twitched as if he were tamping down on a laugh. “Very little,” he admitted. “Just enough to make some room in my life for other people. I never really saw the point before.”

  “You do now?”

  “I’m beginning to.”

  Maksim leaned down slowly, so slowly, and Val’s breath hitched. The kiss was soft and gentle. It was chaste. Val had never shared anything like it. If he kissed at all, it was usually hot and wet, a means to an end. This kiss was an end all by itself.

  When Maksim drew back, Val chased him. Their mouths touched again, firmer this time. Val’s lashes lifted enough to meet a gaze like an iced over sea, pale and deep, and focused on him with an intensity that made his heart kick against his ribs.

  Maksim’s tongue traced the seam of his lips. He opened beneath the prompting, and Maksim moved in deeper. He loomed above Val, one hand cradling his face, bent low enough to plunder his upturned mouth. A sweet, strong tongue licked against his, and Val moaned. He wanted to drink him in.

  Maksim was panting when he broke their kiss. He brushed his mouth across Val’s cheek and kissed his jaw, then the bridge of his nose. “You’re so damn lovely,” he whispered. “I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you.”

  “Even in all those extra decades?” Val teased, but need distorted his voice until it was almost unrecognizable.

  Maksim tugged on his hair. The warning glint in his eyes made Val smile. He reached up and slid his hands around the back of Maksim’s neck, pulling him steadily and inexorably into a renewed kiss.

  He dragged his hands down Maksim’s neck, over his wide shoulders, down the hard pair of arms bracing Maksim’s weight against the back of his chair. Maksim felt so good under his hands. Everything about his body turned Val on. He was healthy and raw and masculine.

  Despite his own preference for keeping his body at peak strength, Val didn’t need or want a muscle bunny in his bed. Maksim was strong enough to hold Val’s pieces when he fell apart and not feel the burden of them. That was all that mattered to Val.

  Maksim’s hands smoothed over Val’s delts and biceps, and Val couldn’t help but give an instinctive flex.

  “Come with me,” he said into Maksim’s mouth. “Come to bed with me.”

  Maksim pulled back just enough to lay his forehead against Val’s. They breathed together.

  “I could have lost you today,” Maksim said hoarsely, “when I only just found you.”

  Val kissed him for that.

  He led Maksim to the bed, guiding him down on the mattress with gentle pressure. Maksim willingly obeyed, laying back on the flowered comforter with one arm pillowed behind his head. The grin he flashed was pure deviltry.

  He crooked a finger, and Val eagerly joined him, straddling his hips and sinking down on top of him to take his mouth in another soul bleeding kiss.

  They undressed each other. Val didn’t think anyone had ever helped him undress before, and he found it ridiculously sexy to watch Maksim’s large fingers peeling his pants down over his hips. His abdomen quivered when Maksim’s fingers brushed teasingly against his lower belly. Goose bumps rose on his skin.

  As soon as he stripped the last piece of clothing from Maksim’s body, he leaned back and admired the view. Everything about the man was strength and long lines, like one of those naked Greek statues. His cock rose, proud and erect, against his belly.

  Val had never wanted anything in his mouth so much. He bent his head and brushed his lips over the plump head.

  Maksim’s breath wooshed out of him on a sudden gasp. One hand pressed against the back of Val’s head. His hips arched reflexively, driving his shaft between Val’s lips. Val moaned and shut his eyes to enjoy the taste and silky texture on his tongue.

  Maksim’s deep groan got inside him and filled a part of him that had been empty far too long.

  He wasn’t sure how long he spent making love to Maksim with his mouth. But that’s what it was, for sure. This wasn’t some damn hookup.

  He trailed his tongue languidly up the underside of Maksim’s cock before running the flat of his tongue over the leaking tip. He sucked with varying degrees of intensity, from soft and wet, to a nice tight seal with his lips and hollowed cheeks.

  He pinned Maksim by the hips, controlling him every time he bucked and twitched, reveling in his power over a man rapidly turning helpless beneath him.

  There was no more guilt or anger. It didn’t exist in this space. Nothing existed except the scents and tastes and sounds of Maksim. There was nothing but Val’s fierce desire to please him. The ache in his own groin was irrelevant.

  Languid fingers carded through his hair, and he practically purred.

  Maksim tugged, guiding Val back up his body. “I can’t… I can’t last if you do that. And I need to last.” His voice was ragged. “I want you inside me, Valentine Rivetti.”

  21

  Maksim

  Maksim had never gloried in his world weariness the way some men did, but he’d long ago accepted his boredom with humanity as a permanent condition. But this... this was new.

  This man was so very different from anyone Maksim had ever taken to bed before. He was real in a way Maksim had never been. He didn’t hide who he was from others, but more importantly, he didn’t hide from himself. He was young, and wounded, and traumatized in ways Maksim hadn’t begun to understand, but he was strong. He kept fighting.

  He gave Maksim hope. It had been a terribly long time since he’d felt that.

  It would have been such a rush to let Val get him off right then. But as much as he enjoyed those cushiony lips surrounding him, and as desperately as he wanted to spill into that sweet mouth, he wanted something else more.

  He wanted them to take their time with each other. He wanted to be tender, for once.

  Val settled on top of him, though he considerately kept his bulk off to one side to avoid crushing his lungs. Not that it mattered. He stole Maksim’s breath with his deep, sweet kisses.

  Val’s arms were like iron bands, holding them close together, and Maksim allowed his own touch to roam. He trailed his palms down the muscles of Val’s broad back. He smoothed them up his sides and felt the delineation of obliques and abdominals.

  He filled his hands with Val’s tight ass and pulled their hips flush against
each other, so that every time he arched, his cock slid against Val’s hard length.

  Val’s breath was a rough stutter, as if he’d run a marathon just to be with him. He ground down into his pelvis, and Maksim split his thighs wide and brought his knees up to cradle him.

  Val drew back with a wince.

  “Are you okay?” Maksim asked.

  “Yeah,” Val croaked. “Just…” He cupped his side, and Maksim remembered the wound they’d forgotten to bandage.

  He placed his hand beside Val’s and gently touched. The skin was puffy and inflamed, but it wasn’t hot to the touch. Purple, blue, and green bruises spread out like a halo around the stitches. It didn’t look infected, though, only sore as hell.

  “Hmm.” He leaned up to kiss Val’s chin. “Switch with me. Lay on your back.”

  Val complied, grabbing a pillow and bunching it under his head as he sprawled on top of the mattress. His smile was bemused when Maksim leaned down to kiss the damaged, tender flesh of his flank.

  “You…” Val said.

  “Hmm?” Maksim kissed his insanely sculpted stomach. He licked at a dusky nipple and blew cool breath over it until it hardened to a peak.

  Val gasped. “I’ve never known anyone like you.”

  Maksim released the nipple, scraped it with his teeth, and grinned. “That, I believe.”

  Difficult as it was to tear himself away from the feast of bare skin beneath him, he left the bed and retrieved supplies from a bag on the nightstand.

  He congratulated himself on his forethought when he’d stopped at a Safeway after picking up dinner. Val’s size was considerable, and it had been far too long for Maksim to risk taking him dry.

  He returned to Val and straddled his hips, keeping his knee well clear of his injury. Rock-hard heat pressed beneath his balls, and he shuddered with anticipation.

  Val tore open the condom wrapper and quickly rolled it on before slicking up his fingers with expert efficiency, rubbing them together to take the chill from the lubricant. When Maksim leaned forward to suck at the pulse of his neck, the new position opened him up and gave Val access. Warm, wet fingers teased his sensitive opening, followed by delicious pressure and the slow glide of a finger stretching his rim.