“Yes, I wear clothes! Just not all the time, and almost never when no one’s around. It saves on laundry.”
“Oh, now I get it. You’re just teaching me to save on laundry detergent and water? Or are you trying to find opportunities to feast your eyes on my manly beauty?”
Toby rolled his eyes and tied his bathrobe more snuggly. “Yeah – that must be it! All your manly beauty drives me wild with lust,” he joked. “All that skin and those big puppy dog eyes. I must have amazing willpower.”
“Yes, you do, Toby,” Mitchell agreed seriously. “That’s what’s going to pull you through all of this.”
Toby worried his lip for a minute and looked back in the mirror. “You think your hunky silver haired dream man will look this good in a bathrobe?”
“I don’t know and I don’t think I’ll ever find out.”
Tony raised his eyebrows at Mitchell’s pitiful tone. “Why?”
“Because,” Mitchell grinned at Toby’s reflection in the mirror and then ruffled his damp hair. “Based on your most excellent example and your wise teaching and advice on how to cut down on laundry, I am going to severely limit the clothing I allow him to wear at home. In fact, bathrobes after hot showers will be totally banned.”
This time Toby’s smile turned into an outright laugh. Mitchell’s work was done.
Wednesday morning, Mitchell fixed a quick breakfast and escorted Toby across the street to the spa. Toby had spent some time preparing himself for the day, and as a result, his mind was more at ease. Once in his office, he simply threw himself into the day, taking care of everything that needed to be done.
At three forty-five in the afternoon, a well-groomed, well-kept woman entered the doors of Time Out and walked to the reception desk.
“I have an appointment in about fifteen minutes,” the woman told SarahJune.
“Yes, I see you’ve booked an hour massage with Andre. If you’ll have a seat, he’ll be with you shortly.” The woman thanked her and took a seat in the reception area, picking up a glossy magazine and flipping through the pages. A few minutes later, an exotic, light skinned man of mixed-heritage walked through the door from the back treatment area, and walked to the reception desk. After a brief discussion with SarahJune, he walked to the woman seated on one of the sofas.
“Ma’am, I’m Andre and I’ll be your masseur today. Thanks for booking with me. If you’ll come on back, we’ll get you situated and comfortable.”
The woman followed him back through the hallways and then asked, “Can you direct me to the ladies room please? I think I’d better make a quick stop there first.”
Andre provided the needed information and the woman walked in the direction he’d indicated. After a few steps, she looked over her shoulder and saw him close the door to the treatment room. She turned and walked quickly to the breakroom. Once there, she unlocked the door to the stairs as she’d been instructed and went through. She hurried up the stairs and unlocked the door to the roof. After rushing back down, she exited the break area and almost ran to the ladies locker and shower room. When she had regained her breath from her excursion, she walked leisurely back to the treatment room. “I’m sorry for the delay,” she apologized.
She undressed and positioned herself on the table, face down, and arranged the sheet over herself as Andre politely turned his back and pulled out some lotion from one of the cabinets and heated it in a small pottery bowl. “I’m ready,” she said.
Andre walked to the table and placed his hands gently on her skin. The woman breathed out her tension and closed her eyes.
She’d done what she’d been asked to do – or rather, blackmailed into. She didn’t like being in a position of forced obligation and was satisfied that she could wash her hands of the whole mess now. As the masseur’s hands flowed down her back she found herself wondering if he’d be open to a more intimate arrangement. After a moment’s consideration she decided that he was probably one of those morally degenerate queers. She could never understand how some men couldn’t be satisfied with what she had to offer. But then again, she could also understand why they liked immersing themselves into a good healthy dose of masculine energy. Who didn’t like a nice piece of meat?
She gave a small sigh at the thought.
“Is everything okay, ma’am?”
“Yes, Andre. Everything is just fine.”
She enjoyed the next sixty minutes of the relaxing massage immensely, and when Andre indicated that – regretfully – their time was done, she sighed in contentment and sat up, letting the sheet fall from her generous breasts. Andre turned away, but not before catching a glimpse of a small flower tattoo on her pelvis. He didn’t comment and didn’t think anything more about it. The woman slipped on a robe and gathered her clothes. “That was wonderful, Andre! I think I’ll take a quick shower before I leave. Thank you again.” She laid a generous tip on the table and left the room. In the car on her way back home she made a short call. “It’s done,” she said, and hung up. Then she blocked the number. She hoped never to hear from that person again.
Reightman arrived at Time Out promptly at seven. She found Toby in a relaxed, focused mood. She looked toward Mitchell and raised an eyebrow. He held her eyes steadily but gave nothing away.
Shortly after seven, she met Jones out front and instructed him to keep an eye on the perimeter for the evening and to call her immediately if he spotted anything that was cause for concern. She went back inside and made another quick circuit. She looked over the larger treatment room carefully, and then, for some reason, she looked up to the ceiling.
The two hand bars hanging from the ceiling above the centrally placed table caught her attention as they shone silver under the lights. Her mind flashed back to the performance she’d attended with Zhou Li. She studied the bars as she walked underneath them and noted the scrape marks on the ceiling. “Oh my God,” she whispered as an image of silky fabric dropping from above filled her mind. She rushed to find Toby and Mitchell. “Watch the ceiling if you can, Toby. I think…. he’ll try and do…something with the bars above the table. Don’t let Dameron near them. Be careful.” As she started to turn, she remembered something else. “Did you drink the stuff Zhou Li gave you last night?”
“Yes,” Toby answered. “I’m prepared.”
She could tell from his voice that he was prepared. She smiled proudly at him. “Yes, you are. Good luck, Toby.” And then, on instinct she impulsively pulled him close and gave him a hug, before going to his office and shutting the door.
Before making his way to the smaller treatment room next door, Mitchell, now more cop than friend, assured him, “I’ll be listening, Toby. We’ll be ready for any trouble.
At eight-fifteen, Sutton Dameron dropped his wife off at the corner and then pulled into the lot across the street. He watched as his wife ran quickly down the side street and disappeared from view.
John Brown watched Christina Dameron run down the dark back alley, carrying a small backpack. She was dressed in a tightfitting black body suit which tightly hugged her small, trim body. He thought it looked like something a dancer might wear, or maybe a circus performer. He followed behind her, staying in the dark shadows of the alleyway, hidden from sight. He watched her while she climbed the old ladder attached to the back of one of the building. “I knew that ladder was going to be a problem!” When she reached the top, he made a decision. “If you hurt Toby Bailey, I’ll make you pay. You won’t get away.” Not understanding why he thought it, but knowing it to be true, he added, “Toby is meant for me.” He leaned back into the shadows and waited.
As he stood hidden in the darkness, he wondered why he was so possessive of Toby Bailey. It wasn’t like him to get personally involved like this. Maybe it all had to do with the fact that the young man was the first hit that had ever gone wrong for him.
Ever since he’d managed to crawl out of the hell of his dysfunctional fami
ly situation, he had avoided attachments of any kind – except those he paid good, hard cash for. These non-financial kinds of attachments just meant trouble. And he’d never messed up a job before. In his line of work, that could get you killed.
He thought there was something rotten about the whole thing, and that surprised him. It just wouldn’t do for him to start questioning his client’s motives. He’d learned that lesson the hard way and had it beaten into his thick skull a time or two. Yes, it would be best if he just minded his own business and let the events unfold as they may. At the thought of doing that, he felt something shiver down his spine. No, that wouldn’t do at all. No one was going to take out Toby unless it was John Brown. After all, in some ways the hit was still active.
It would be a shame to have to shoot Toby. He’d miss seeing him around, even if it was from a distance. He enjoyed the sight of him jogging down the streets of downtown in his skimpy running shorts, and looked forward to watching him at night. He would have to do something about the cop that was hanging around though. He didn’t think there was anything going on between the two of them, but wasn’t about to take any chances. There’d be time enough to take care of that problem after tonight. Frist he had to make sure that no one else succeeded in taking Toby out.
It would be tricky and the timing would need to be absolutely perfect. All kinds of things could go wrong, and John Brown couldn’t afford any other complications. After weighing the risks, he decided he’d just have to bide his time and look for the right opportunity. It was a complex problem to be solved and he liked that. He was good at solving problems. He guessed it was really two problems when you got right down to it; how to keep anything from happening to Toby in the next few hours, and then how to get close to Toby himself. “Make that three problems,” he corrected himself. “Don’t forget to take care of the young cop.” He had a few ideas about that already, and was sure that the first two situations would work themselves out – one of them possibly as early as tonight. Life sure was interesting these days.
“Hang in there, Toby. If anyone hurts you but me, I’ll make sure they pay. I’m afraid that’s the best I can do for you right now.” He gave a quiet sigh and then smiled. It was a hard job he had ahead of him, but someone had to do it.
At twenty minutes after eight, Toby walked into the dark front reception area and took a seat on one of the chairs he’d so carefully selected when putting the spa together. He closed his eyes and listened to the wall fountain, calming and centering himself. He thought of the first time he’d met Geri and of all the times they’d made love – before things had gone so terribly wrong. He thought of Mitchell, standing beside him, body bare in the moonlight. Those were the thoughts he’d carry with him as he played this game with Sutton Dameron. When the knock sounded on the front door, he was ready.
Dameron entered the spa carrying a small bag. “I brought a few things to make our evening together more successful,” he said in greeting as Toby closed the front door. Dameron didn’t notice that Toby didn’t lock it behind him.
“That’s nice of you, Sutton,” Toby told him with a smile. “Let’s go on back.”
Dameron followed Toby to the back treatment room. He entered the room and looked around. “Looks different.”
“Different? Have you been here before?”
Dameron hesitated for a brief second and then replied, “Yes. I was here with your friend, Geri.”
Toby smiled knowingly. “That figures! Geri was always meeting people here.”
Dameron laid his bag on one of the counters and opened it. “I brought us some libations,” he said as he pulled out a thermos of some sort. He removed the top and took a drink. “Damn! I forgot the cups and the ice. Do you have any here?”
“Sure. There should be ice and cups in the breakroom right down the hall. You can’t miss it – the ice is in the freezer compartment of the fridge and the cups are in the cabinets.”
“Excellent! I’ll be right back. Why don’t you get more comfortable?” Dameron smiled suggestively and then left the room.
Toby pulled off his shirt and slipped off his shoes. He tossed the shirt on the massage table in the middle of the room. He then slipped off his pants, adding them to the pile. He left on the pair of sheer briefs he’d selected just for the occasion. When Dameron returned, he stopped just inside the door, appreciating Toby’s body. He brought him the drink, holding it out in one hand. “Here’s a little something I whipped up just for you. I want tonight to be special – to apologize for the way I acted the other evening. You took me by surprise and, well, I don’t do very well with surprises.”
“That’s okay. I understand.” Toby took a very small sip of his drink. “Did you bring me what we agreed on?”
“Yes, I did,” Dameron confirmed before he took a small swallow of his drink. “It’s in the bag. I thought I would give it to you after we’ve had a little fun. Is that okay?”
“Sure, Sutton. I trust you.”
Dameron started to put his glass down on the massage table and noticed the clothes Toby had left on top. “Let me move these out of the way. I wouldn’t want them to get spoiled tonight. Here, hold this.” He handed his glass to Toby and gathered up the clothes. As he carried them to the counter, Toby switched the glasses. He tensed when he heard something move across the ceiling.
“Do you want me to bring my shoes over there?”
“I don’t think so. We can probably just move them out of the way.” Dameron looked down at the loafers on the floor and nudged them out of the way before taking his drink from Toby’s hand. “Let’s toast to our new arrangement and special friendship. When I count to three, let’s chug these babies down.”
Toby smiled. “I’m ready whenever you are.”
Dameron counted, and they both lifted their drinks and drank them down. Dameron took the cup from him and walked over and put it into the bag.
“Don’t I get another drink?”
“Later, if I think you need it. Right now I have other plans.” Dameron took off his shirt and folded it neatly and placed it in the bag. He slipped off his own shoes and then took off his socks and placed them inside the shoes and stowed them in the bag. He then unbuckled his pants and took off his trousers. He wasn’t wearing underwear. He folded the pants and put them into the bag. He rearranged the items slightly and Toby could see him searching for something with his hand. After a second or two, he apparently found what he was looking for. He made another slight adjustment and then turned back toward Toby.
Toby intentionally swayed at his approach and steadied himself by placing on hand on the table. He laughed softly. “Wow! I’m feeling buzzed already.”
Dameron laughed along with him as he closed the space between them and circled his arms around Toby. “Good. Let me start taking care of you now.” He navigated them toward the table and then leaned Toby back toward it. He leaned in and kissed Toby, thrusting his tongue into his mouth. Dameron stroked himself and then moved his hands to Toby. Toby concentrated on the other images he had tucked in his mind and felt himself respond.
“You appear…to be enjoying this better…than…than last time,” Dameron commented appreciatively. Toby noticed he was having slight difficulty getting the words out.
Toby made himself moan softly. “I am. It…feels…so good.”
Dameron smiled and went down on his knees. He licked Toby through his briefs a few times and then pulled them down around Toby’s ankles. “Step out of…these,” he said. “I think…think I’ll keep them …keep them as a remembrance…of tonight.”
Dameron was beginning to sound drugged. Toby obeyed the instructions, and even giggled when Dameron removed the sheer fabric from the floor and put it in the shoes. “Why…I mean…Sutton… why are you putting that…those in my shoes?”
“So they won’t get meshed….messed up.” Dameron moved back in front of Toby and took him in his mouth, shutting his eyes in hungry concentration as he engulfed the hard
flesh. He worked diligently for a minute or two. “How ish…you …you feeling?”
Toby looked down at him and smiled a wide, silly smile. “I feel all….good and…floaty.” He sighed and shook his head. “Those dinks……I mean drinks, were…real….strong.
“Ummmhmmm, they…was…..were strong.” Dameron yawned involuntarily before taking Toby back into his mouth. Toby heard sounds again, this time from right above his head, but forced himself not to look up. A shadow fell across his face.
Dameron stood, grabbing Toby to support himself. “I need to….get….give….no,” he yawned. “I mean I need to get something. Something…..I need. Don’t…move.”
Dameron headed for the bag, weaving and swaying on his feet. He reached inside and pulled something out of it. Toby couldn’t see what he was doing, but felt a sudden tingle of unease which grew when something shifted above him. Dameron walked toward him with a hand behind his back. He stopped a few feet away and glanced up at a spot above Toby’s head, and nodded. “Ready.” The moment the word was out of his mouth a length of fabric dropped from above and twisted round Toby’s neck. He saw a bright flash of silver as Dameron removed the large knife from behind his back.
Toby grabbed at the fabric, frantically trying to pull it from his neck. He twisted his body and saw the figure above him brace for leverage against the bars and the ceiling. The figure gave him some slack and he stumbled forward. Dameron moved toward him, unsteady on his feet. He knelt behind Toby and pulled his legs slightly backward, and Toby felt himself fall forward – held upright by the fabric. He clawed at his neck as he felt it tighten. “Help me,” he croaked weakly, fighting for air. He struggled and twisted with as much force as he could muster, loosening the fabric for a split second. “Help!” he yelled before the fabric tightened again. The knife flashed and he spun away, but not before the flesh of his arm parted with sharp, slashing pain.
“Damn……………..you,” Dameron cursed, finally realizing why he was so slow and unsteady. “You swished……..the…switched the….”
Hard Job: Reightman & Bailey Book Two Page 19