by R. Cayden
“I guess you know them pretty well?”
“Hardly. I barely even know my father. I remember hearing that Mr. Peterson has been in hot water lately, though. Something happened with his son. I’m not sure of the details, but it sounds like it messed up the research his division was focusing on pretty bad and cost the company a lot of money. There was even a rumor that his son was kidnapped for a minute.”
Dixon, who was reaching for a glass of water, coughed abruptly and almost knocked it over.
“You okay?” Lawrence whispered.
Dixon steadied himself. “Yeah, sorry.”
“Anyway, whatever happened, it tanked Mr. Peterson’s career. Mr. Rios and Mr. Mackey are still right up at the top with my father. They’re supposed to be launching some hybrid cell phone and tablet device together soon. My father thinks he’s going to change the world, whatever that means, but he complains about the other men. I guess Mr. Mackey is crappy at his job and only keeps advancing because he plays dirty.” Lawrence leaned a little closer to Dixon, dropping his voice as quiet as he could. “Not that Mr. Rios is any better. He hit me on one time, when I was only sixteen.”
“Gross,” Dixon snarled, then shot a glare at the man, sitting obliviously across the table.
“It was,” Lawrence agreed. “He didn’t threaten me, but still, he’s older than my dad! Some of those men have no shame.”
It felt good to be sharing secrets at the end of the table like that. And strangely, it felt really good to have everyone else glancing at Lawrence and Dixon and eyeing them like they were a real couple. Sure, his grandma had only given them a stinky glare, and his mother and father had lost interest in Dixon the second the introductions were over, as expected. But a couple of the business acquaintances gave them approving nods, like Lawrence had finally done right by bringing a proper gentleman home.
Lawrence would never have expected that to feel so nice. He didn’t give a shit about their approval, and he certainly wasn’t invested in selling Dixon to them. Hell, they hadn’t even slept together. But there was something fun about the fantasy of it, too. Like they were each other’s little secrets.
As servers brought out plates of steaming French food, uncovering each one with a flourish, chitchat filled the room. Lawrence entertained Dixon by telling stories about the senator who his father was chatting up, a young woman and rising star who worked closely with Horizon Zed. Once he ran out of gossip, he and Dixon cracked each other up by making up conversations for the suited men at the other end of the table.
“As a matter of fact,” Lawrence said in a deep, grumpy voice, staring right at Mr. Peterson, “I have never smiled, not even when I was a child. It’s a medical condition that makes my face this tight.”
“That’s funny,” Dixon replied, rasping underneath his breath as Mr. Mackey talked. “I have a similar medical condition.”
“Oh yes?”
“It makes my asshole muscles so tense, my eyes bug out. Do you see?”
Lawrence devolved into giggles. He pushed some of the coq au vin around with his fork, then glanced at Dixon out of the corner of his eye. His dinner companion had a warm smile on his face, more relaxed than the practiced grin Lawrence was used to, and when he caught Lawrence’s eye, he winked.
“I’m going to run to the restroom. Will you excuse me?”
“Down the hallway, second door on your right. That’s the closest one.”
“Thanks,” he said, then tossed his napkin on the table and disappeared.
A couple of minutes passed, and Lawrence drank from his big glass of pinot noir. He wondered for a second what Raiden was doing that evening. The fantasy of dragging him to the dinner party, too, gave Lawrence a weird thrill, and he laughed to himself as he imagined his bodyguard absolutely horrifying his grandmother.
When Dixon didn’t return immediately, Lawrence got impatient and excused himself. He headed down the main hallway, but the bathroom door was slightly open, and there was no sign of his date. Confused, Lawrence poked his head in the drawing room and the library, then headed up the stairs to the second floor, assuming he might have been directed to one of the other bathrooms.
As soon as he reached the landing, though, and opened the door to the second floor, he spotted Dixon, walking out of his father’s office.
“Wasn’t that door locked?”
Dixon startled, then turned to Lawrence. “Oh, hey! No, it was open. I was just looking for another bathroom. The downstairs one was occupied.”
Lawrence frowned. His father’s office was always locked, especially when guests came by. “Why would you look for a bathroom in an office?”
Grinning, Dixon winked. “I wasn’t. I already found the bathroom. This time, I was looking for the stairs.” He took Lawrence’s hand, then pecked the back of it. “But thank you for looking for me. You’re a very gallant date.”
Laughing, Lawrence accepted the compliment, and the two of them returned to the dinner table. They kept joking around as the main course made its way toward dessert, and Dixon seemed as relaxed as ever. Still, though, Lawrence couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that he had been in his father’s office. That place was practically a fortress, and Lawrence had never been beyond the door himself.
And why did Dixon go upstairs in the first place? No one else had left the table, so the downstairs bathroom shouldn’t have been occupied.
He pushed the thoughts aside the best he could, and shortly after dinner, he found a reason to excuse himself and Dixon and call it a night. They shared the elevator down with the senator, who refused to chat with them, and then headed out into the warm, quiet night.
“So how did I do?” Dixon asked, smoothing back his hair. “Do you think your grandmother will invite me to Christmas this year?”
“You, with the sides of your head shaved?” Lawrence teased. “She’d be horrified to be seen with you at church.”
“Invitation lost in the mail again. Damn.”
They were walking into Central Park, and the trees were filling out for spring, casting large shadows across the path. Lawrence paused by the fence. Dixon hadn’t responded when Lawrence tried to pull him up to his apartment for a quick hookup, but maybe a proper date would have done the trick. So when Dixon turned to see why he paused, Lawrence stepped forward and caught him by surprise in a kiss.
Like the first time, Dixon’s body responded instantly. One of his hands found Lawrence’s curls, and his tongue slipped between Lawrence’s lips as they met. Lawrence whimpered into the kiss, warm pleasure washing over him, then pushed his hands up against Dixon’s chest, roaming for a second before bumping into something hard in the jacket pocket.
Dixon stepped back abruptly, breaking the spell of the kiss. Tipsy from wine, Lawrence grabbed at the object, and a small external hard drive clattered to the sidewalk beneath them.
Lawrence stared at it, then up to Dixon again. “What’s that?”
Dixon swept it up. “Nothing, just a little hard drive I forgot I had with me.” But as he went to tuck it back away, Lawrence spotted the label on the side, with his father’s initials and a date written in sharpie.
His head spinning, Lawrence reached for it again. “No it’s not,” he objected. “You took that from my father’s office.”
Dixon smoothed his hair back and flashed Lawrence a smile. “You must be confused, Lawrence. I brought this with me.”
The truth crashed down on Lawrence, like a storm cloud had broken up and soaked him. Dixon broke into his father’s office and stole a hard drive. Had that been his intention in going to the dinner party in the first place?
Lawrence’s gut tightened. Had every one of their meetings been intentional, a setup just to get to his family? Anger and frustration bubbled up inside of him. He had let himself believe some silly fantasy where a man would be interested in him for something other than his father’s wealth and power, just to have reality smack him in the face all over again and remind him of who he actually was.
He shoved Dixon in the chest, but the man didn’t move. “What the hell!” Lawrence objected, tears in the corners of his eyes. “What the hell, Dixon?” He shoved him again, then again. “You don’t care about me at all!”
Dixon winced, pain in his gaze. “That’s not true!” he objected, but when Lawrence dove to grab the hard drive from his hand, he pivoted, and Lawrence went tumbling to his knees on the pavement.
“That’s enough!”
Lawrence jerked his head to the side just in time to see Raiden, charging out of the shadows. Dixon looked just as surprised, and before he could react, Raiden sent him flying backward with a hard shove. Dixon scrambled, then swept his leg, knocking Raiden onto his back.
Lawrence gasped and scrambled back from the fight. Had Raiden been following him?
Dixon turned as though he was about to take off, but Raiden landed a hard kick against his back first, sending the man tumbling with a grunt. Raiden jumped on top of him, fury in his eyes as he yanked his arm back, ready to clobber the smaller man. His fist came down so hard, Lawrence thought for sure Dixon was done for, but he somehow managed to spin to the side just in time.
Raiden howled as his fist landed with a hard crunch on the pavement, and Dixon used the moment to attempt another escape. Raiden came after him again, swinging hard and fast, but Dixon managed to dodge each one, dancing to the side. Lawrence’s heart cried out for each of the men, terrified of what they might do to each other even as he tried to make sense of the fact that Dixon had betrayed him and that Raiden had appeared from the dark night.
“What the fuck is going on here!” Raiden roared.
Dixon swooped backward. “A misunderstanding, I’m afraid,” he said. “And after such a pleasant evening.” He jumped to the side, then landed a quick jab on Raiden’s chin, although it didn’t slow down the bodyguard’s momentum. “A shame, but I must be going.”
Dodging one more punch, Dixon spun to the side, then took off as though he were about to jump the fence and sprint into the trees. Raiden, however, spun all of his forward momentum, leapt straight ahead, and landed a direct blow to the back of Dixon’s head, sending him sprawling to the ground.
Lawrence and Raiden stood there in silence, Lawrence’s heart in his throat as Dixon lay on the path, still and unmoving.
“Are you okay?” Raiden asked. There was spit in the corners of his mouth and a wild anger in his eyes. “Did he hurt you?”
Lawrence shook his head quickly, staring at Dixon’s body. “Is he okay?”
Raiden bent down and inspected him with a grunt. “He’s fine, just knocked out. He’ll come to soon enough.”
All the anger and confusion and fear hit a peak, and Lawrence rushed forward and threw himself into Raiden’s arms. The strength of his bodyguard’s embrace held Lawrence up as he gasped and sobbed, his face buried in Raiden’s chest. “I don’t understand,” he whispered.
Raiden stroked the back of his head slowly, almost tenderly. “Neither do I. But I guess it’s time to get some answers.”
Cash
Cash woke up with tiny hammers pounding the inside of his skull. He groaned and blinked, and the world began to come into focus. Through the aching confusion, he figured out that he was propped up in an armchair and sitting in a small bedroom that smelled faintly of stale pizza.
“We have to tie him up.” Raiden’s low voice rumbled from the other side of the door. “Until we know why the hell he’s been stalking you, he’s too dangerous.”
“But what if there’s some kind of explanation?” Lawrence objected in a fierce whisper. “And we’ve already assaulted him and kidnapped him!”
That’s right. Cash remembered Raiden running out of the shadows. He scolded himself that he had been so careless. The bodyguard must have been tracking them all night to appear at just the right moment. But Cash had gone and let himself get distracted by flirting with Lawrence and enjoying the game of pretending he was a normal person for once, someone a guy would bring home to a family dinner.
Guess he had gone and proven himself wrong there. And the beating he received from Raiden definitely made him second-guess his choice to taunt the guy by leaving that chocolate heart in the intercom box.
He rubbed his fists into his forehead as blinding pain shot through his skull. That’s what he got for taking his eyes off the prize. Even just one minute of distraction could cost him everything, and Lawrence and Raiden were both proving to be terribly distracting.
Cash, for instance, didn’t think it would be the worst thing in the world, were Lawrence and Raiden to tie him up.
He rose to his wobbly feet, but as soon as he got his balance, the door flung open.
“Fuck,” Raiden shouted. He lurched forward, and Cash collapsed back into the armchair, his bruised body aching.
“You really do pack quite the punch, Raiden. Didn’t see it coming,” he said, wincing to get the words out.
“All right, smartass. Why don’t you use that mouth for something useful for once?”
Cash wiggled his eyebrows at Raiden. It was hot as hell, having a man like Raiden towering over him, and like with any dominant man, Cash’s instinct was just to poke the beast more and see how loud his bark got. “Why, Raiden,” he said, then licked his lips slowly. “I thought you’d never ask.”
But then he turned his eyes to Lawrence. The sweet guy stood behind his bodyguard, peering at Cash with hurt concern. His lip was positively quivering, which sent a pang through Cash much worse than the pain wracking his body.
“Come on,” Lawrence said softly. “What’s happening, Dixon?”
Cash considered his options. He might be able to muster the strength to make a run for it, break through that window, and aim for the fire escape. Assuming they were in Raiden’s apartment, he thought he remembered its location from surveillance. But even if he managed to live through that stunt, he’d still be fucked, cut off from Lawrence and permanently on Reed’s shit list.
Escape might have been the smart choice, but all of his instincts were begging him to stay. To look in Lawrence’s brown eyes and trust his budding affinity for Raiden and maybe even try to listen to that advice and use his mouth for something smart for once.
“You want to know why I took your father’s hard drive?”
“That would be a good place to start,” Raiden growled.
Cash crumpled back into his chair. He turned to Lawrence, held his gaze, and then nodded.
“I’m sorry I stole from your father, Lawrence. And I’m sorry I wasn’t entirely honest with you.”
“Is that the only reason you came to dinner with me in the first place?”
Cash winced. “It’s not like that. Not entirely, at least.”
“Not entirely,” Raiden spat out, then stepped forward menacingly. “Just like I thought. More fast talk. Tell me this, how long have you been following Lawrence around, huh? Huh?” Raiden pulled his arm back, and for a second, Cash thought he was about to receive another of those wrecking ball punches. But Lawrence placed his hand on his bodyguard’s arm first, stilling him.
“I thought it was too easy to be true,” Lawrence said, his voice cracking. “I can’t believe I fell for your lies.”
And that was it. That pushed him over the edge. Because on top of everything else, Cash could not handle making Lawrence cry right then.
“My name is Cash,” he said abruptly. “Not Dixon.”
“What?” Lawrence and Raiden both asked at the same time.
Cash groaned as his head throbbed again. “It’s a long story,” he managed.
Raiden sighed. “Lawrence,” he said, “will you grab this guy some Tylenol and a water while I keep an eye on him? Medicine cabinet.” He glared at Cash. “Won’t do us any good if he passes out from the pain again.”
“How sweet,” Cash mumbled.
Lawrence returned again with the pills, and Cash bolted the water, grateful for the small amount of kindness. It wasn’t as though he had actually earned it. Lawrence took
a spot next to his bodyguard, and they both looked down at him, waiting.
“Lawrence, you asked me if I only went to the dinner party to rob your father, and the answer is yes.” Lawrence winced, but Cash kept talking. “I’ve had my eye on your father for a long time. For years before I met you, I’ve been tracking him and a few other executives at Horizon. But I didn’t steal that hard drive from his office because I wanted money or power. I stole it because someone needs to stop those people, and I think you both know that’s true.”
“Stop Horizon Zed?” Lawrence asked.
Raiden put his arm around his charge, supporting him. “You better start making sense fast, asshole.”
“Lawrence, you’ve said more than once how much you distrust your father and his corporation. I know I don’t have to tell you all the pain and destruction that they’re responsible for. But no matter how many regulations are put in place, no matter how many laws they break and how many times they get caught lying to the public, they just keep growing bigger and stronger. They just keep destroying the planet and profiting off of poverty and exploiting the people who have the least. They’re killing the world, and they’ve killed the people we love.”
Raiden’s eyes got wider. “What the hell does that mean?”
If Cash’s head wasn’t throbbing, he might have better judgment, but with fire still in Raiden’s eyes, he just pushed forward. “I grew up in North Carolina, in a small town. There wasn’t much there except for a small chemical factory where everyone worked, making some shit that they’d ship away in barrels, apparently to spray on household products at some other factory in some other town. The company that ran the place was called Marilote. You ever heard of them?”
“Yeah, I’ve fucking heard of them,” Raiden growled.
“Of course you did,” Cash nodded. “Marilote polluted the river upstream from my town, and sure enough, the people paid the price. When I was fourteen, both of my parents died of kidney failure, just like so many other people would over the years. It’s a little different in every Marilote town. Some places it’s a high rate of miscarriages from the toxic sludge. Other towns, like the one where Raiden grew up, there’s a sharp spike in heart attacks from air pollution.”
