Wren listened, but Jaeger wasn’t sure how much he really heard as his head already faced the window. “It’s going to be okay, you know. I’m going to protect you.” Jaeger’s wrist throbbed and his chest ached.
“I know. I think we need to talk about things and how I ended up seeing Sr. Chino’s murder. I agonized over the decision to turn against my family. My mother….”
Jaeger interrupted Wren when he reached over and squeezed Wren’s hands, which he held tightly fisted in his lap.
“Let’s wait until we settle for the night. This is a conversation we need to have, yet best served behind closed doors. Not in a moving car.”
After traveling two hours or so, they pulled into a local motel just inside the upper edge of the Adirondacks. The local eatery sat on the same property, along with a general store. Perfect. Jaeger checked into the end room, left Wren there with their bags, and went to the store to grab some essentials—bottles of water, sodas, and a few snacks to have for the night and for the road in the morning. Then he grabbed two burger platters from the diner and returned to the room. He paid for one night’s stay, so they could leave the key on the dresser and drive toward their next destination.
Utilizing a key as opposed to a card to enter their motel room was not foreign to Jaeger. He was used to staying in quick, cheap places where the bad guy wouldn’t think to look. Luxury hotels were for the wealthy or for those who wanted to stand out. Jaeger never wanted that, and it was one reason he covered his scarred wrist. It prevented people from remembering any identifying remarks. Many people wore leather bands and for numerous reasons.
Jaeger tossed the key on the lone dresser and scanned the room searching for Wren. Sparse but with its own bathroom, the room at least had a queen-size bed and not a double, a small laminated wood desk, a dresser, and a night stand with a lamp. Additionally, the vacancy sign boasted free cable and Wi-Fi. Jaeger needed to check his e-mails and see if he could snoop around the agency files through a back door.
Just as panic was about to set in, Jaeger heard the rattling of pipes and the shower coming on. He popped his head into the bathroom, informed Wren of his arrival, and set up his laptop.
Sitting at the desk, Jaeger entered his password and slipped a micro USB drive into the port to scan, block, and continuously change the signal routes. If he was correct, the mole would be monitoring and tracing his e-mails and location. The special program would allow Jaeger the anonymity to read any important correspondences relating to his case or anything else remotely suspicious.
Working quickly, he scanned his e-mails. Nothing. Until something caught his eye. A message from SAC Chase—the man Jaeger suspected was helping the cartel.
Jaeger opened the e-mail, quickly read it, deleted it, and then emptied the trash. Then he ran a security program to cover his tracks.
Interesting e-mail. Chase warned him of a potential breach in the system and to take his time bringing the witness in. Well wasn’t that just a peculiar bit of info, considering Jaeger would bet his life that Denver Chase was in bed with the cartel and not gung-ho to have Wren testify.
But more important at the moment, Wren needed to come clean with how he came to be in his precarious predicament so Jaeger could maintain his safety. The rest would have to wait.
WATERLOGGED AND wrinkled, Wren hid in the shower. The time for explanations and truth was at hand, and he needed to man up and explain everything to Jaeger. The desire to make Jaeger understand his motives and look at him as more than a thug’s nephew made Wren want to tell the truth. Jaeger was fast becoming very important to him, and Wren hoped for a future with him. He wasn’t sure how it would work out, but he couldn’t see himself in a new identity without Jaeger at his side. It wasn’t necessarily love at first sight, and it most certainly wasn’t Stockholm Syndrome, but Jaeger touched Wren in a spiritual and emotional way.
And the physical aspect was spot-on—the heated and fervent touches, the gentle caress, the hot, moist mouth engulfing his cock. Any and all were at the top of Wren’s most-wanted list. And fuck if he didn’t want it all. But in order to get there, he first had to explain everything to Jaeger, testify in court to put the bad guys away, and oh yeah, stay alive while doing it.
Wren figured Jaeger needed hot water too, so he shut off the shower, grabbed the standard motel towel from the rack, and dried quickly. Then he threw on a pair of sweats and a tee from his backpack and padded into the room. Jaeger sat hunched over his laptop, fingers flying, with a pensive look on his face.
“Shower’s free,” Wren said as he sat on the edge of the bed. “Oh, you got sustenance. Smells good.”
“What? Oh yeah. Sorry. Almost done here. Burgers and fries in the containers. Drinks in the bag.”
“Everything okay?” Wren reached for one of the Styrofoam containers, opened the lid, and inhaled the sweet, greasy aroma of a bacon cheeseburger and fries. Wren popped a fry into his mouth and savored the salty treat.
“I originally said shower’s free. In case you want to use it, that is. Before we talk.”
“Yeah. Thanks. I’m done here anyway.”
Wren continued to eat while Jaeger wrapped up what he was doing on the laptop and headed for the shower. Funny how you notice things when you’re about to bare your soul—like the length of Jaeger’s fingers. Long and thick, they flew over the keyboard with the same sensuality they had as they caressed his skin. His thick thighs were capable of traversing the woods without tiring, yet they glistened with perspiration as he fucked Wren into the mattress. And his café-au-lait eyes could easily darken with passion and determination. Wren hoped those eyes would also deliver compassion.
By the time Jaeger finished his shower and returned to the desk to eat, Wren’s stomach flip-flopped like a cocoon of caterpillars bursting forth as butterflies. This conversation could actually be worse than when his mother had the sex talk with him—the second talk, after she found out he was gay. No one should ever have a chat with their mother that revolves around words like anal sex, blow jobs, and condoms. Okay, maybe condoms weren’t so bad, but …. Wren shuddered.
“You good? You’re a little pale all of a sudden.”
“Nah. I’m good. Just remembering my mom and the birds-and-bees talk—the one we had after she found out I was gay. Talk about being scarred for life.” Wren shuddered. Again.
“Well, that must have been a hoot.” Jaeger cackled.
“It was so not funny, amigo. My Latina mother, small powerhouse that she is, actually pulled up diagrams from the Internet to explain the slot A and tab B to me. I wanted to crawl under a rock and let the nearest scorpion bite me in any unmentionable place it wanted.”
Jaeger laughed at the look on Wren’s face. “How old were you when you suffered this fate?”
“Fifteen. I knew when she originally had the talk with me about girls that I wasn’t too keen on the opposite sex, but I didn’t know what it meant. Then one weekend the family went to the Carolina Islands to our beach house, and I saw two men holding hands, walking along the shoreline. The one turned to the other and ever so gently pecked him on the lips. The gesture was so innocent and loving. My stomach fluttered, and my chest ached. They looked like they were so in love. And that’s when I knew that I liked boys and not girls. No girl I knew gave me those feelings, and yet two perfect strangers brought me butterflies in my gut. Hence I ended up having a second sex talk with my mami.”
Jaeger’s face remained stoic, except for the slight tilt of the outer corners of his mouth. Wren could see he wanted to laugh, but he held it in check.
“Go ahead. Laugh. I know you want to. I laugh about it now, even if it still creeps me out.”
Jaeger finally let go and doubled over in hysteria until tears streamed down his cheeks. “Sorry, but that was fucking funny.”
“I know. I know. But I’m lucky my mother even cared. So many people out there don’t have moms like I do. How about you? Got a family?”
Jaeger’s serious expression threw Wre
n for a loop. One minute he was busting a gut and the next… if looks could kill.
“Nah, don’t know anything about my biological family. I was adopted and never had the desire to find out about my birth parents. My adopted parents died when I was eighteen, so I’ve been on my own since then and never looked back.”
Wren nodded and hoped that the simple gesture let Jaeger know he understood his circumstances, or at least that he empathized with him.
“Let me finish, and then you can fill me in on what’s going on with your family and the killing.”
If there was one thing Wren admired about Jaeger, it was that he got straight to the point.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
THE TIME for reckoning had arrived. No longer could they travel together without Wren discussing that fateful night and the events leading up to it. And Jaeger needed to know the depths of depravity that consumed his family and their associates.
Wren plumped a few of the bed pillows and leaned against them to make himself comfortable for the long haul. Jaeger remained in the desk chair, but swiveled to face him.
“So,” Wren began. “Obviously I’m gay.”
“Babe, I think we already established that.”
“I know, but it’s important to repeat, because it plays a part in what happened.” Wren paused to make sure he had Jaeger’s undivided attention.
“Like I said before, I came out to my mother, and then, of course, she told my uncle. My father had passed. Seamus O’Riley led a violent life and died the same way. Colombian drug runners attacked the coffee farm outside of Caracas—you know, the one where drugs were manufactured. My mother and I were already residing in New Mexico, and my father came every so often to visit. He was due to come home in a week when they were attacked in the compound. He, along with four of his men, were killed.
“I remember my uncle traveling to get his body and bring him back to the States for the funeral. My mother was inconsolable for months after and practically became a recluse. She loved my father very much. I like to believe he would have been supportive if he’d lived to find out I was gay. For all his faults, he loved my mother and me very much.”
“How did your uncle take the news?”
“Of me being gay? Confused. Hurt. He’d raised me ever since my father died. I guess all the things any parent or relative would feel, but also scared. Not the trembling-with-fear kind of scared. After all, he was the head of the cartel. But the kind of scared… he believed people would hold it against the family and try to do me or the family harm. Does that make sense?”
“Sure. It goes back to the machismo ideology. Men are men and not….”
“Yes. Exactly.”
“He never swept it under the rug, but as long as I wasn’t in-your-face gay, he didn’t say anything. Sometimes I’d go out to a club and hit it off with a guy. Maybe make out or blow jobs in the bathroom—just never at his or my house. I always had bodyguards. Even if you didn’t see them, they were there.”
“So you got your rocks off in clubs and never went home with anyone? Wow. That’s impressive.”
“We can’t all be studs like you.” Wren attempted to infuse a bit of levity into the conversation, knowing it was about to go south.
“One night I was sitting at a club in Mexico and having a drink. I was to meet a good friend of mine, Clarissa. She was late, as usual.” Wren chuckled.
“I rarely drank, but I was sipping on a frozen cocktail when this extremely good-looking guy approached my table. He was tall and thin with midnight-colored hair and eyes so dark they bordered on black. He was stunning in a pair of dark, tight-fitting skinny jeans, a lavender button-down, and combat boots. I had to stop myself from prostrating before him and licking his boots. He exuded charisma and strength, and he couldn’t have been more than a year or so older than me.
“Javi was a walking wet dream, and I felt out of place when he approached my table and ever so politely asked to sit. I practically swallowed my tongue. But I gestured to the vacant seat across from me.
“Javi extended his hand across the table, and I shook it. His skin was a lovely shade of olive, slighter darker than mine. His grip was strong and assertive. He knew what he wanted.
“When Javi finally released my hand, I hung on a bit longer than protocol dictated. I wanted to make sure Javi knew I was interested—even if only for a quick hand job in the back room.
“He explained that he and his brother Cristobal owned Paraiso Sexual. I knew I wanted to get to know him—and more than in a bathroom. I couldn’t imagine the owner of one of the hottest clubs in Mexico City pimping himself out to men in bathrooms.
“I explained that I didn’t get out much, that I was usually behind a computer screen, working. I guess Clarissa got delayed. I told him that I actually lived more in New Mexico, but I was visiting the family estate for a week or so.
“He said that her timing was his gain, and he invited me to his private booth. I followed him to the back wall at the edge of the dance floor. A wraparound staircase led to the top and overlooked the entire club.
“The private booths, offices, and security room were all upstairs. No one who wasn’t trusted staff or family were allowed up there. It was also quieter, and he said he wanted to get to know me better, if I was interested. And I was definitely interested.
“The rest as they say is history.” Wren peered at Jaeger.
“Yeah. We sat and talked for hours, sipping drinks and holding hands. A little petting and a few kisses. He was so charming, and I was starved for someone to truly see me for me. I found out later he was Javier Chino. He’d introduced himself solely as Javi, owner of the club. And his father was a very powerful man. Import-export. Fuck. I was so naïve. Import-export my ass. Drugs, weapons, women… all the same shit my uncle was involved in. My mother kept me so much in the dark, and by the time I started to question things, deep down I really didn’t want to know. So I lived in my own ignorant world.”
Wren inhaled deeply and hugged one of the pillows to his chest.
“What happened to your friend that night? Did you and Javi go out in public, like on a date?”
“We went out to his club mostly. We were inseparable for the week I was there. No one dared say anything to him in his own territory. And besides, his brother Cristobal was fucking scary. Not a soul crossed him and lived to tell about it with all their limbs intact.
“As for Clarissa, Javi had seen her strolling over to my table and asked her about me. In order to give us time to get to know each other, she had slipped out without me ever seeing her. She later texted me with a smiley-face emoji. I couldn’t be mad at her because I was having too much fun with my new date.
“His family also had houses across the border, and as luck would have it, in New Mexico as well. Of course in hindsight, I’m not sure how lucky. Javi and I had been seeing each other maybe three months when things started to go downhill. My uncle was getting more agitated and always calling meetings with the presidents of his holding companies. Apparently word on the street of a possible take-over was rampant in his circle. That kept him close to the people he most trusted, in an attempt to stay one step ahead. Since I kept the ledgers for him, he always had me running some report or another. That’s when I started seeing the inconsistencies.”
“You mean the figures didn’t add up?”
“That and the dates didn’t match. For instance, when a shipment of goods comes in, time and date is noted and also to keep track of inventory. Remember, my family also operated out of the United States. Shipments needed to be recorded for tax purposes, so everything had to be accounted for. I discovered shipments recorded coming into the harbor, yet no merchandise was unloaded. When I looked at the purchase orders and the payout, there was little merchandise, but the coffee beans sold for millions. The numbers should line up at the end of the day, and they didn’t. That meant something was unloaded that we didn’t want to record, but that the potential to sell it was astronomical.”
“
Drugs. Or women. Fuck.”
Wren nodded.
“Yes. My guess exactly. Many of the shipments were coffee beans, as the family maintained coffee plantations in Maracaibo, along the coast in Venezuela. The plantations were a front for smuggling weapons and drugs imported from Colombia. So I looked a little more closely and noticed that many of the entries didn’t match and that they were also not my original spreadsheets.”
“How did you know that?” The inflection in Jaeger’s voice altered just a tad. He was having a hard time believing him.
“I put a signature on all my work, like a watermark, unidentifiable to the naked eye, but subtle. That’s how I know it’s mine, and no one else knew about it.” Wren was very glad he’d done that, especially since he’d turned most of his files over to the feds.
“So let me get this straight.” Jaeger stood, grabbed two bottles of water, and tossed one to Wren. “You secretly investigated your family, not entirely knowing what they were up to, and now you’re going to turn state’s evidence? And wait. Let me guess. The feds have no idea about this secret signature. Just in case.”
“Just in case. Yes. Once I realized the depths of my family’s dealings, I went back through and concealed my signature, so to speak. Since my uncle didn’t know I’d done that, if he had someone change the books after I’d already input the information, I would know. My computer automatically saved the new file, but to the untrained eye, the file was the same one. Little did anyone know it was a duplicate. There was one with my mark and one without. Then I kept a file of everything—half of which I gave the federal government. The rest stays in my possession until the trial, just in case.”
“Holy shit. You are good. And do I get to know where the rest of the file is? Or is that a secret too—being as I’m supposed to get your ass safely to the courthouse.”
“It’s at a little church on the edge of our family property in Avenida Las Nubes in Santa Fe. The church hasn’t stood for decades, but the ruins are still there. I used to explore it and the grounds all the time as a child—my hiding place when I wanted to be alone. Clarissa is the only other person that I ever took there. There’s a few statues of saints, and it’s in one of them.” Wren spoke with pride at his actions, but the expression on Jaeger’s face made him doubt himself.
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