Feeling better about the decision, he made a mental note to chat with Sean when he returned and to schedule a meeting with Isabella. That just left him with the heavy task of filling out the rest of the kitchen staff for In Good Time and the holes that would be left in the Rialto kitchen should some of the staff choose to move over. James would handle the hiring of the hosts, servers, and bussers.
Being back at Rialto, Ian felt like he could breathe again. He was a step away from the chaos that seemed to be consuming his life. Rialto was a safe haven, a cozy slice of normalcy that gave him a sense of control and purpose when everything was trying to careen into insanity.
He started toward the main dining area when his phone vibrated in his pocket. Pulling it out, he glanced at the screen and frowned. Gidget. She had news. A knot suddenly tightened in his stomach. He should be excited that she had information that would help him stop this person who was trying to destroy his life and hurt the people he cared about. But there was a part of him that wanted to push it all to the back of his mind for a little while, to enjoy normal life again for just one day.
It was better to face this now. He knew that. The sooner it was taken care of, the sooner he could get all of his life on track. He returned to his office to get away from the noise of the busy kitchen.
“Ian here,” he said as he shut the door.
“It’s Gidget. How are you? Anything new happen?”
A smile tugged at his lips at her sweet concern. He’d always found it somewhat amazing that she was so at ease around all the rough and rowdy Ward Security bodyguards. Hell, it was amazing she managed to work with Rowe for so long, but he’d seen it with his own eyes—she was a perfect fit. “No, it’s been quiet for the past few days.”
“I heard through the grapevine that Wade is enjoying Jackson playing nursemaid,” she said with a little giggle. “Is Sean okay?”
“Yes. He was in the hospital only the one night. He’s still a little grumpy about being forced to recuperate at home and has been sending me recipe ideas every day. He’ll be back at Rialto on Monday.”
“That’s good. I cross-referenced the few names you gave me with police records on drug and prostitution arrests and I think I have a name for you. Max Hodgkins.”
Ian flinched to hear that name cross Gidget’s lips. Yes, he’d given it to her along with others, but to hear his suspicions confirmed still hurt. There had been a secret part of him hoping that Max had escaped this life, that he and Hollis had been wrong and they all escaped, but it was unrealistic.
“I remember him well,” Ian whispered thickly.
“Looks like he was picked up once in the West End, and the second time was downtown, just east of OTR.”
“If it’s him, I wonder why he’s taken so long to come after me.”
“I don’t know. I’m waiting on records from two others right now, but it’s a start.”
“Thanks, Gidget, I don’t know what we’d do without you.”
“You’re welcome. I’m emailing you his police records now. They have the exact locations of where he was arrested. It’ll give you and Hollis a starting point at least. I’m sorry it’s not more definitive.”
“No, it’s a solid start.”
He hung up and stood in his quiet office; the sounds from the kitchen were muffled but he barely noticed. His mind had slipped back to a lavish mansion more than ten years in his past. It had been a place of nightmares. The opulence was over the top and had felt so damn phony, but it was made all the worse by the guys walking around the place with their rough hands, crude manners, and guns. So many fucking guns. For so long, Ian had been afraid to move, to speak, confident that someone was going to shoot him at the first squeak out of him.
Max had already been there when he arrived. Had been trapped in that hell for a couple of years. He had looked a lot like Ian—Jagger’d had a type—but he’d been smaller and younger. He’d also been Jagger’s favorite. At the top of his list as it were. That position came with certain “benefits” and freedoms that the other prisoners didn’t enjoy. No one ever touched Jagger’s favorite but Jagger. Ian hadn’t understood that when he first arrived. Everything had been so new and scary. He’d just wanted to go home. It didn’t matter if his parents hated him and had coldly ripped him away from everything he’d known. Hatred at home had to be better than being trapped at Jagger’s.
But in a short time, better took on a new meaning. There was no going home. There was no escape. Better was about being Jagger’s favorite rather than a party favor for Jagger’s rich friends and associates. Better was having a room to himself rather than sharing a small, crowded one with ten other boys.
Life had been “better” for Max before Ian came along. Max lost his private room and little benefits to become just another party favor to be passed around night after night. The few times Ian had seen him at parties, Max had been outright hostile to him.
Ian’s stomach churned and he put a hand on it. Even if it wasn’t directly his fault, Max had a very good reason for hating Ian.
The phone still tightly gripped in his hand vibrated and he looked down to see an email from Gidget had just come through. He dropped down in the chair behind his desk and woke up his laptop so he could open the email and attachment. His heart skipped when he was faced with Max’s mug shot. He looked nothing like the boy Ian remembered. This man was haggard and worn, years of pain, fear, and anger stamped onto his face like a grotesque mask. He stared at the camera, looking as if the weight of the world sat on his shoulders.
Ian’s own shoulders slumped as if he took on some of that weight. It felt like he’d never be free of his past. He thought of his and Hollis’s plans to foster children and wondered if this was where his focus should be. Wouldn’t it be better if they tried to track down the kids that had suffered under Jagger’s thumb? It was clear from Max’s mug shot that not enough had been done to help these poor souls. No one had tried to find them, counsel them, give them a fresh start outside this depraved and damaged world.
But how would he find them all? He remembered less than half a dozen names now, and there had been so many that came and went. Even more after he escaped Jagger’s clutches.
He stared at Max’s broken image as he called Hollis, who was also working that night.
“Hey,” he said softly when Hollis answered.
“Hey GQ, how’s it going tonight? Restaurant good?”
Ian closed his eyes and let Hollis’s wonderful voice wash over him like a soothing balm. Hearing that familiar murmur in his ear loosened the tension tightening his chest, making it a little easier to draw a deep breath. “It’s quieter than usual, but nothing too alarming. We did have four cancelations for reservations. A little higher than normal and that worries me, but what can I do?”
“Nothing but your job. Just keep churning out amazing food, and people will keep coming to eat it.”
The ghost of a smile tugged at his mouth. God, where would he be without Hollis? The man knew what to say to keep him moving when all he wanted to do was curl up in bed and pull the covers over his head.
“How’s your night?”
“Oh, you know, the usual,” Hollis drawled. “A little dumpster diving for incriminating evidence. A little sneaky surveillance of cheating spouses.”
“Gidget called.”
Hollis went silent for a moment. “She get a hit?”
“Found us a possible culprit. Max Hodgkins.”
“Shit,” Hollis swore softly. “I’m sorry, GQ. So sorry.”
Ian nodded, swallowing past the lump in his throat. “Thanks.” He’d mentioned to Hollis when they made the list together that Max was his main concern. The one person he could remember who seemed to dislike Ian the most. The other boys seemed relatively indifferent about his existence, too wrapped up in their own fears and worries.
When he could speak clearly, he continued, “She also found where he’s been arrested in the past. Downtown and West End. I was thinking it might be a good i
dea to go down and see if I can find him.”
“Not alone, you’re not.”
Ian smiled at Hollis’s hostile tone. His need to protect Ian didn’t rankle his nerves like it usually did, because Hollis was correct. He needed backup on this one both for his own physical protection as well as his emotional stability. Even if Max wasn’t the perpetrator, Ian knew this wasn’t going to be an easy meeting if they did manage to find the young man. “Of course not. When do you get off work?”
“I can take off now if you need me. We were just finishing up for the night.” In the background, he heard the telltale squeak of Hollis’s office chair and the shuffling of papers. Apparently, he’d managed to catch his husband in the office, maybe finishing up some paperwork for a client.
“Want to meet me here and we’ll go?”
“Be there soon.” Silence filled the air for a moment. He’d thought that Hollis had been about to say “I love you” or at least “good-bye,” but there was nothing for a few long seconds like a thought had occurred to him. Ian had been about to ask him if everything was okay when he finally spoke again, his voice hesitant. “It might be a good idea to take one of the bodyguards. Or we can see if Rowe or Noah are up to their usual reindeer games? Those two are always game for a romp through the bad part of town.”
Ian shook his head, though Hollis couldn’t see him. “No, they would get too much attention. Can you imagine getting people to talk to us with Sven in tow? Or the Masters of Mayhem?”
“Don’t you tell him I said this, but I have seen Rowe be sneaky before.”
Ian snorted. “Sneaky is nice, but I was thinking more along the lines of subtle. Those two are about as subtle as a stick of dynamite.”
“True. Very, very true.” Hollis chuckled. “Okay, I’ll have my gun.”
Ian wanted to roll his eyes, but it was a good idea. If this Max was the one out to hurt him, it wouldn’t be smart to approach him unarmed. Still, Ian wanted to help him more than he wanted to hurt him. Mostly he just wanted to know why the man had come after him. “I’ll see you in a few.”
Chapter Seventeen
When Ian and Hollis climbed out of the car, Ian was rethinking his decision not to bring a bodyguard. Cincinnati had started to seriously cool off in the evenings as they closed in on the end of September. The trees were still green, and there were few signs that fall had reached the city besides a handful of stores displaying Halloween decorations.
But then, fall in Cincinnati tended to be an incredibly fleeting thing. Citizens were usually graced with one or two good weekends of colored leaves and moderate temperatures for corn mazes, pumpkin farms, apple picking, and haunted houses before the cold temperatures and gray skies whooshed in to claim the city for the next five months.
Pulling his leather jacket tighter around him, Ian stepped away from the car and took a quick look around him. Simply because it was the closest, he and Hollis had elected to check out the northeast side of downtown. They were outside the trendy reach of OTR and the sophisticated business end of downtown. No, here the streets were a little darker, and there were fewer cars rushing past them. The buildings looked largely empty, as if the business had moved to other parts of the city.
Little clusters of people lurked in shadowy doorways and the entrances to alleys. There were more than a few people stretched out on the sidewalk, wrapped in ragged blankets and sleeping bags, their faces turned away from what was happening around them.
Ian took in his surroundings and couldn’t help but wonder if this was where he would have ended up if Snow, Lucas, and Rowe hadn’t intervened. Would he even still be alive now? He couldn’t imagine surviving on the street. No money. No home. No safe place. Would he have been forced to sell his body just to get by when Jagger was finally done with him? It wasn’t like he’d had a high school diploma, an ID, anything.
No. Ian shook his head as a darker thought occurred to him. He wouldn’t have ended up like this because Dwight Gratton would have killed him before he could have made it to the streets. Gratton had been obsessed with him. When Jagger was done with him, Ian was sure he would have been handed off directly to Gratton. And lost to his obsession, Gratton would have killed Ian.
“GQ?”
Blinking away those depressing thoughts, Ian looked over at Hollis, taking in his worried expression, and forced a smile. “I’m okay. Lost in thought.”
“Do you want to wait a night? You’ve already put in a long day.”
Ian shook his head before he stepped forward and gripped Hollis’s forearm in reassurance. He was sure the contact helped to ground them both. “No, I’m fine. I promise. We can’t put this off.”
Squaring his shoulders, Ian walked to the first group of people he saw loitering on the street. There were three women talking in low murmurs. One was gesturing with a cigarette pinched between two fingers, while her two companions let out rough laughs at whatever she’d been telling them. The temperature might have been in the low fifties, but there wasn’t enough clothing between the three of them to keep a single person warm. And their shoes…all of them wore these monster heels and platform shoes so that they teetered precariously on the fractured sidewalk.
Since talking to Hollis, Ian had mentally rehearsed what he would say, and nothing good was coming to mind. If anything, he just needed to make sure he didn’t appear to be interested in their…wares. Knowing his luck, one would be an undercover cop.
He’d briefly considered printing out Max’s picture, but the only one included in the file that Gidget sent over was his mug shot. Not the kind of thing to convince people to open up to him. So, he had no images to share, and he hoped Max didn’t have a different street name.
“Hi,” he said to one of the women leaning against the brick wall of a building. The heavy layers of makeup did nothing to hide the wear and tear life had taken on her face. Somehow she didn’t shiver in her short skirt and skintight white halter top with the red lace bra peeking through. But Ian wondered if life or drugs had numbed her to the cold. “Would you know if there’s a Max Hodgkins around here?”
She looked him up and down before her gaze flitted to Hollis, who stood silently behind Ian like an avenging angel. He looked exactly like what he used to be. A cop. Her lips tightened and she shook her head.
Ian turned to the other woman standing beside her, but she did the same thing.
The one with the cigarette turned to him and gave him an ugly smirk. “Oh, honey, what do you want with a Max? It looks like you’ve already got all the cock you can handle. How bout I give you a taste of something sweeter?” She reached out with her long, curved fingernails toward his hair like she meant to run her fingers through it, but Ian jerked backward out of her reach, his shoulders slamming into Hollis’s broad chest.
The cigarette woman cackled loudly, and her companions joined in, sending them rocking awkwardly in their heels in their amusement. Ian could feel heat filling his cheeks, but he didn’t care what they thought of him. Not when Hollis’s strong hand was gripping his shoulder, squeezing and reassuring him without saying a word.
“Nobody here knows a Max,” a man said as he came out of the shadows. “You might as well move along.”
Ian’s heart sped up as he got a good look at him, taking in the large build and the shock of bright blond hair. He wondered if this guy worked security for the women. Then he realized it was probably their pimp. He nodded at him and pulled Hollis along down the street. The trio of women continued to shout catcalls and taunting comments after them as they walked away. They only grew quiet when a car slowed down and pulled over to the curb near them. A potential customer. He and Hollis were forgotten.
With Hollis at his side, Ian braved several more blocks and more alleys than he’d ever thought he’d venture down. They approached three more groups of people, a mix of both men and women, but there was no one willing to talk about Max. This wasn’t going to be as easy as he’d hoped. Nobody admitted to knowing a Max. Either they were lying or he d
id, in fact, go by something else here. And they all clammed up as soon as they got a good look at Hollis.
“Shit,” Ian said as they stood on yet another corner, looking up and down the street as he tried to decide which direction they were going to turn down next. They were getting too close to residential areas, and for better or worse, there were fewer people out. “Looks like this is another dead end.”
Hollis squeezed his arm. “Give it time, we’ve only been at this an hour or so. Finding someone is never easy and especially when we’re doing it like this. We need a photograph of the guy.”
“All I have is the mug shot.”
Hollis winced. “Yeah, flashing that around will get us nowhere.”
Ian turned toward Hollis and folded his arms over his chest. “They can all tell you’re a cop. Can you…I don’t know…hunch or something? Look less imposing and official?”
Hollis laughed. “Hunching isn’t going to change my carriage. They don’t know I used to be a cop.”
“Rowe and Snow both say you still stand and walk like you’re a cop.”
“That’s ’cause Rowe and Snow are fucking deviants who spent too much time looking over their shoulders for cops when they were up to trouble.”
“Yeah, but you’ve done undercover work. And now you’re a PI. Don’t you have to like…pretend to be unassuming and normal?”
Hollis made a face like he was fighting very hard not to laugh right in Ian’s face, which he appreciated. Ian really couldn’t blame him, because he wasn’t sure there was much Hollis could do to look less intimidating than he did. And Ian had to admit that he loved how his man looked striding down the street as if he owned it. It was a fucking turn-on, not that they needed that right then.
“People just aren’t going to trust you enough to talk. You’re a stranger here.” Hollis jerked his head down to the left. “There are a few more people gathered down there. We can try this block, and then we’ll head to the car. Shoot over to the West End and cover that area for a couple of hours before calling it a night.” He smirked. “I’ll try to hunch.”
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