33 Degrees of Separation (Legacy)

by Rain Carrington

  When he got the call, a voice he hadn’t heard in years assaulted his senses and brought him back to the days when things weren’t as they seemed, and his life was in constant turmoil.

  “Papi, how are you?”

  Javier Duran. The man he’d loved and who nearly broke him from ever loving again.

  “Javi, what the fuck? How’d you get this number?”

  “No questions, sexy man. I need to see you. Meet me at the Starbucks down the street.”

  Pat’s eyes closed, his chest heavy as all the hurt and love came roaring like he was being dragged back in time. “I…Javi…I can’t leave my principle.”

  “You’re no bodyguard, Papi. He’ll be fine. I promise, it won’t take long.”

  There were few that could give Javier the number, and one of them was the mutual friend that introduced them in the first place. If Javier was there, and Charlie had sent him, something serious was going down. “Okay, but I can’t be gone long.”

  “Mmm, can’t wait to see you. Are you still a mass of muscles? Still…hot?”

  “Shut the fuck up, Javi. I’m going to meet you but not for that.”

  He ended the call before Javier could say anther word. Sitting hard on the couch, he had his head in his hand in seconds, trying to think of what it could mean.

  Thinking back to those days, his early days with the government, they were a blur except for images that either made his gut wrench or set his heart to beating much too fast and hard.

  “Dammit.”

  He checked on Ian before he left, the man he was falling for still sleeping fitfully. If he woke and Pat was gone, he’d be terrified.

  Pat left a note, telling him he’d return quickly, just in case, and took off, moving, moving fast, moving so fast he had to concentrate on his feet setting down on the concrete, getting in the car, going, keeping his mind or his body from settling.

  The Starbucks was only two blocks down the road. Ian had joked that was one deciding factor for their choosing that certain apartment. It took him seconds to get there, but it still seemed like he was going backwards in time.

  Before he could get out of the car, the passenger side opened and Javi was there, in the car with him, smelling of cheap cigarettes and cheaper aftershave. “Go, get moving. Head out of here and turn right.”

  Pat didn’t ask, glad that he would be driving, and he wouldn’t have to look at Javi head on. “What the fuck is this?”

  “Old friends meeting for a reunion?”

  In other words, anything Pat would ask would be answered with a ridiculous question.

  Pat turned right and a little ways up the street, Javi pointed left and again, Pat turned the way he was instructed. All the while he was driving, memories came slamming back into his head of the time he and Javi had spent together. The intimate moments that made Pat fall in love for the first time in his life.

  While Javi was a killer, a mercenary in every sense, he’d shown Pat a soft side that Pat clung to and coaxed to come out more and more. That was most likely the biggest reason Javi left him. In his line of work, a softer side could have gotten him killed.

  Javi had them driving in a bad neighborhood, but that didn’t surprise Pat in the least. Pat was used to being in the worst places on earth with the man. It added to the danger and sex like nothing else could have. When Javi pointed to a motel touting twenty-five-dollar an hour rooms, he groaned out loud, making Javi laugh.

  “You know you like it dirty.”

  Pat was about to turn and cut him off from that kind of talk, but once he met Javi’s eyes, he saw something that made his jaw snap shut. Javi was playing a game. Another reason he had frustrated and aroused Pat so much. Pat was always on his toes with Javi, never knowing if he was serious, or playing some kind of dangerous game.

  “Eighteen, down at the end.”

  As soon as Pat parked, Javi moved over as far as he could, and before he could stop him, Javi kissed his neck, blowing a hot breath there. “Come inside with me, Papi.”

  His limbs wanted to lock up, not move, stay in the car and then drive off and leave the man, but once Javi was out of the car and standing in the headlights, grinning wickedly at him, Pat felt his hand on the handle on the door.

  He got out, hurried inside and once the door was closed, He spun to start screaming at the man, but saw Javi’s finger over his lips, warning him to be silent.

  After knocking on the bathroom door, another man appeared, shocking Pat. The other man was a mercenary type like Javi, only the more classic formula of crewcut, broad shoulders and thick neck. Javi was original that way, slim, black hair shaved on the sides but longer down the center, like a Mohawk.

  Javi with his caramel skin and full lips, almond eyes that were always drooping a little, like he was seducing the world. Smaller in stature than a lot of the military men he worked with, but meaner, faster and more dangerous than any man he’d ever known.

  “This is Cliff.”

  “Cliff, okay, hello, so can you tell me what the fuck is going on now?”

  Cliff looked to Javi, who told him, “If the place is still clean, head back in the head and wait for me.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  As soon as he disappeared, Javi grinned over at Pat. “Hear that? Yes, sir. Sound familiar, Papi?”

  “Fuck you, Javi. I didn’t come here to play your fucking games. Tell me what the hell this is about.”

  There was a small table with two chairs besides the bed and dresser, and Javi waved a hand to one of the chairs, inviting Pat to sit.

  As they sat across from one another he began, “Damn, it’s good to see you, Papi.”

  With a voice that was far less gruff than he wanted, almost a whine, he pled, “Don’t call me that, Javi.”

  For the first time, he got serious, and admitted, “I knew you wouldn’t be so thrilled to see me. I told Charlie that.”

  “I knew it was him. What the fuck is going on?”

  “Don’t fly off the handle like you do, huh?”

  Starting to protest, he saw in Javi’s eyes that he needed to listen and absorb what he was saying, so he put away his hurt and said, “Fine.”

  “This Grail shit you got yourself involved in, well, Charlie said he got you involved in, it’s bad, man. Real bad.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know, Javi.”

  “Well, you might not know it all. Charlie called me in a fucking panic yesterday. Seems those Grail mother fuckers have been handing out some warnings to anyone who knows about them.”

  As his body tensed for what was to come, he pushed, “Warnings? Who? What the fuck?”

  Squirming in his chair, Javi tentatively said, “They threatened the babies, man.”

  Pat was up and out of his chair, knocking it backward and causing Cliff to emerge from the bathroom, a gun in his hand. Javi got between them, ordering Cliff to go back and shut the door, then caught up to Pat as he was headed out of the motel room.

  He barely stopped him at the door, pleading, “Let me finish, Pat, please! This all needs to be planned, worked carefully!”

  “They threatened Charlie’s babies? They’re babies!”

  “Yeah, and they knew that was the only way to get to them. I’ve done the same thing, Papi, and I ain’t proud of it. Sometimes it’s the only way to get people in line, and you know that shit. The difference is, I could never hurt babies on purpose. They…shit man, they’d probably enjoy it.”

  After coaxing Pat to retake his seat, Javi went on, “They sent someone to warn that Steve guy and his old man, Matt. They said to forget about your boy there and the Grail or they’d all die.”

  “Jesus.”

  “Yeah, man. Charlie was ready to kill. He sent his old lady and kids to a safehouse.”

  Pat cracked the slightest grin, imagining Stacy being sent away from danger. “I’ll bet his wife loved that.”

  “That woman is a hellion! I had three of my guys taking her, big guys! Like you! She had them shitting their pants, ma
n!”

  Pat laughed a little, though he felt no humor. “I can imagine. So? What now?”

  “We take them down. Charlie said the guy you’re protecting, he ain’t into this shit. Is that true? Or will he do a flip flop and cave when he thinks he might lose the dough?”

  Thinking of Ian, in bed with sorrow and ready to give up, he knew the answer. “He hates it.”

  “Would he…would he be willing to be our inside guy?”

  “No! Fuck no, Javi, none of your schemes are touching him! You’ll get him killed!”

  Javi watched him carefully, looking over his face, the two clenched fists on top of the table, and he whispered, “You love the guy.”

  Scoffing, Pat dismissed, “I’ve known him a fucking week, Javi.”

  “That ain’t a denial, Papi.”

  Needing a change of subject, quickly, he asked, “What is the fucking plan? If there is one.”

  Javi smiled at him, a rather mournful smile, and shook his head to clear it. “Well, we’re dead in the water without an insider.”

  Unwilling to get Javi suspicious of his intentions with Ian again, Pat stayed calm and reasoned, “He’s a scrub. First degree member of the order. Only the top people would know anything real.”

  “Like his father? Charlie said he’s a thirty-third degree. Now, I’m no expert on secret orders or whatever the fuck they’re called, but isn’t that the top of the heap?”

  Pat sat back, scowling. “He hates his father, and his father isn’t the type to help anyone out without a full explanation. He handed his son a gun and made him attempt suicide.”

  “Yeah, Charlie told me that. Fucked up shit, that.”

  “Yeah. Really fucked up shit. Is that the plan? Because if it is, it is dead in the water. There’s no way I’m letting Ian be the inside man.”

  “Wait a minute, here. Charlie told me that’s been the plan all along. That Ian wants to take the Grail down. What’s changed? You falling for the kid?”

  Pat wanted to get up, walk away and hide his feelings from Javi, but he knew that would be a clear sign of them. “He’s not a kid.”

  “Then don’t treat him like one. Ask him. Talk to him, see how far he wants to go.”

  He didn’t want to tell Javi that his plan was much different than even Ian could have guessed. He was going to shine Ian on about taking the Grail down, then somehow talk him into going into hiding with him, getting him out of danger and protecting him. “I can’t do that.”

  “Wow, you got it bad, man.”

  “Shut the fuck up! You come in here knowing nothing about this situation and make assumptions that could get him killed. I am concerned about an innocent man getting caught up in something that could kill him. Excuse the hell out of me!”

  Javi reached across the table and covered Pat’s fist with his hand. The hot touch of him brought back too many memories and he pulled his hands away, setting them on his lap under the table.

  It was as if the touch had burned him, the fire of it coursing through him, reminding him of the heat they’d shared. It was all too much. “Javi, he’s a civilian. More than that, he’s a rich trust funder who’d never had hash browns before a couple days ago, let alone knows anything about the underbelly of the world. I’m not saying I want to tuck him into feathers and never let him explore being a man, but he doesn’t have this in him. Right now, he’s bereft. He’s just found out that his entire life was planned out for him since before he was born. He’s not allowed compassion or true love or friendships that his father and the others of that evil group deem good enough. If he learns much more, if he’s pushed much farther, he could break.”

  Imploring, Javi said, “Let me talk to him. Let me find out what else we can do, then. He knows more than us about it already. If there is another angle, man, you know I’ll do it. I’m not out to get innocent people hurt. But I also know that these fucks threatened the lives of babies, babies of one of the best friends I’ve ever had. Charlie, man, he’s been there for us. For anyone who’s ever called him a friend, he’d die for us, and almost did a few times. That means something to me.”

  Defeated, Pat had to agree. “It does to me too. I could rip their throats out for that. And threatening Steve and Matt. They’re good men. Matt’s already been through a lot with his own fucking family.”

  “Charlie mentioned you just helped them out with some wild shit too.”

  “Talk about innocent men, Matt…and he helped us take down his family.” It all hit him, how he’d been fine with Matt’s leap into danger, but couldn’t imagine Ian doing the same. “He, uh, went up against his father and a whole compound of men like him. They were doing fucked up things too.”

  “Is Ian any less of a man than this Matt guy?”

  Javi had him. If he said yes, that would be a slap in the face to Ian. If he said no, then his entire argument would go down the toilet. “I really hate you.”

  His grin, that cocky, confident grin shone out like a light in the dimly lit room. “You wish you hated me.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Ian woke, and for a moment, thought he was back in the cabin where he’d spent his first days after his initiation into the Grail. When he realized he was in his own bed, with his own four-thousand-dollar duvet covering him, he fell back into the goose feather pillows and sighed.

  His life had been filled with the finest things. The softest sheets, the fluffiest towels, best food served on china and eaten with silver and gold utensils. He’d never known a hungry day, didn’t know what it was like to need anything.

  Any…thing.

  Before that day, or possibly the day his father had handed him the gun, Ian hadn’t known how much he’d needed his parents. All his life, longing for something he couldn’t put his finger on, because he’d never seen it in real life. All the friends he’d had growing up had the same thing, distant, once-in-a-while parents that took family photos together for newsletters and society pages but were never there to tuck them in to bed at night or nurse their colds or fevers.

  Ian’s nannies were many, and they changed so often he’d barely gotten to bond with one before a new one was brought to work for the family. There was never an unconditional love or support system for him.

  Soft sheets weren’t warm arms and silver forks weren’t smiles from a proud father. When his father stood before him the day before, and Ian saw him, saw him possibly for the first time in his life, he realized he wanted his approval, his love and more than that. He felt badly for the man.

  The way he was beginning to feel for Pat, it was special. It was confusing, and kept him awake, kept him smiling, scared him to distraction and had him floating on a cloud under his feet. His father hadn’t felt that, or if he had, he’d had to leave it behind to be a good Grail member and marry someone he didn’t love. He lived a life of money and possessions and didn’t know how wonderful and horrible it felt to be falling unstoppably in love.

  The bedroom door opened, and Ian glanced over to see Pat standing there, the light from the hall making him only a silhouette. “How’re you feeling?”

  Ian didn’t know how to answer that, so he lied, “Better. Nothing to worry about.”

  “Sure.” He came into the room and sat on Ian’s bed, cupping his palm to Ian’s cheek. That gesture, like the ones he had longed for as a child, ran through him, filling voids. “Later, after you get out of class, if you’d like, we’ll go for a drive and get out of the city again. For the afternoon, anyway. You seem to be more relaxed in the country.”

  “I always have. When we’d go to our country homes…never mind. I’m tired of my own boring anecdotes.”

  “I’m not tired of them and they aren’t boring. They’re part of your story.”

  Ian smiled up at him, though it was a weak smile, as weak as he felt. “I was just thinking about it, how I wish I could have met you a long time ago.”

  “We know each other now.”

  When he sat up, he went into open arms and once he was there,
things didn’t seem so bad. Pat held him, and the thick, muscled arms of the man could have been twigs, and he would feel as safe. It wasn’t Pat’s size or job, his skills. It was him. His smile, his eyes, his humongous heart, and all was right with the world when he was near Ian.

  Resting his cheek on Pat’s shoulder, he breathed him in, smelling him, feeling his subtle warmth. “Thank you, Pat. I know, you said to be more grateful, but I don’t remember if I’ve thanked you at all. Of anyone, you deserve my gratitude the most.”

  “I don’t know about that, Ian.”

  “I do.”

  Pat’s lips pressed on his temple and stayed there for a long moment, then he pushed Ian back to the bed. “You need to get ready for class in a few hours. Get some more sleep.”

  “Would you stay? I hate to sound so pathetic and like a child or something, but I’d sleep better if you were here with me.”

  Pat got up and without a word, took off his shirt and tossed it to the bottom of the bed. The little light that seeped into the room from the hall showed enough of him that Ian couldn’t manage anything but a gasp.

  His body was perfect, and it fit him. His inner strength was so immense that it had to show on the outside. Ian moved over to the right side of the bed, remembering the left was Pat’s preference, and as soon as Pat was under the covers, he did as he said and pulled Ian to him.

  On his chest, Ian lay his head and right away, he felt more at ease. He could drift away and not worry about anything. That’s what Pat did for him, among a thousand other things. He could hear Pat’s strong heart beating there, echoing through his hard muscles. It was steady and a little quick, matching his own.

  “Pat?”

  He didn’t know what he was going to say, but it didn’t matter. Pat combed fingers through his hair and whispered, “Shh. Rest.”

  With his hand on his rippled stomach, Ian moved his fingertips on his skin, letting his lids drop slowly. The peace he felt only competed with the surge of arousal that seemed to happen whenever he was with Pat.

  He did sleep, though, and when he woke, Pat was still right there, holding him. He was sleeping too, but his arm hadn’t left him, his breathing slow, shallow. Ian knew if he moved, he’d wake the sleeping giant, and he didn’t want that. Pat had barely rested since they’d met.