Lust for Vengeance

by Katsura

  Why Fergus wouldn't let Vinny stick with him. Fergus didn't want to set Vinny up. It was just Judas who was to be caught. Just Judas. He was supposed to wait behind in the bank listening for the fucking engine to start? God, he had been so stupid. He had actually been made to stand there while the bent cop at his feet waited for the right moment to make his move. They could have waited a little longer for him. They had driven off as soon as he hit the deck.

  They could have given him a few more minutes and he would have been safe in the van with them.

  Worse than the feeling when that asshole had kneeled over him with the gun had been the cold knot that tightened in Judas's gut when he realised, after he stumbled out into the street, that the others had simply left him to his fate.

  Fergus had planned it all along. That low-life backstabbing bastard had planned the whole thing!

  Hugo stood and watched him with a patient expression, and Judas didn't know whether to kill him, thank him or fuck him.

  Fergus had always treated Hugo like his personal prized possession. He kept him away from prying eyes and temptation, and Judas was filled with the urge to give him what he so clearly wanted. But that wouldn't be enough. Fergus had tried to get him busted. Fucking his pretty little bed warmer would just never be enough, and Judas was overwhelmed with hatred for the man that he had once called a friend.

  "Where is he, Hugo? Where is Fergus?"

  Judas's voice came out as a growl this time, filled with all of the menace that he felt inside. Somewhere Fergus would be sitting comfortable right now with Vinny, and Judas imagined that Vinny would be distraught. That filthy piece of scum would slather fake words of comfort on him, all the while responsible for the poor sod's misery.

  "What will you do to him?" Hugo approached slowly and almost cat like, his eyes twinkling again in the darkness.

  He stood on his tiptoes and moved his hand to Judas's shoulder where he extended one finger to trace a line down his neck.

  "What do you think I am going to do with him?" Judas took a deep and ragged breath. "Tell me where he is, Hugo. I don't want to hurt you. I know that it wasn't you.

  I know that it was him. If how you say you feel about me is true...then tell me where he is."

  Hugo breathed in and smiled. His body seemed to tremble with need, and Judas reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out the gun that he had managed to wrestle from that low life cop bastard who was no doubt paid to take him in. He pressed the barrel against Hugo's cheek.

  Rather than frighten him however, it just seemed to arouse Hugo even more and he slid both arms around Judas's neck and kissed him full on the mouth this time.

  Hugo's tongue writhed between their lips and coupled with Judas's tongue, one leg bent and raised so that their thighs rubbed together. They kissed for a few wild moments, passionate and with abandon, until Judas managed to part from him, his lips wet from Hugo's eager mouth.

  "Tell me Hugo...or I'll be forced to kill you."

  Hugo smiled with absolutely no trace of fear at all then he lowered his head and looked up into Judas's eyes. "Well if you are going to kill me unless I tell, I had better give you what you want."

  * * *

  "God, that fucking rain never stops."

  "Huh?" Vinny sat up suddenly and looked out of the window, while Fergus once more tried the phone land line.

  "I was saying the rain never stops."

  The line was still dead. He had been checking it since they had gotten here and it seemed that it had been disconnected for some reason. Fergus berated himself for not making sure that it worked before they arrived.

  The amount of times recently that he had wanted to throw his mobile phone as it kept interrupting him when he was with Mikhail, and now he would have killed to have it. He had no idea what was going on out there, and it was making him edgy. He wanted to know that Judas was keeping his mouth shut. Judas always looked after number one, that was his trademark, but maybe this time would be different. He would keep his mouth shut this time, because if he dropped them all in it, he'd drop Vinny in it too, and if that didn't put him off maybe the thought of getting his throat cut in prison for being a grass would.

  "I fell asleep." Vinny rubbed his eyes. "I was having a strange dream...I can't remember really..."

  "You were talking about Jude." Fergus met him about seven years previously, when Judas hired him to do odd jobs for them, Vinny'd been like one of the walking dead. All junkies have a vacant look about them and Vinny had been no exception, but work seemed to help keep him clean.

  Later, on the occasions that they passed in the exercise yard or the prison canteen, Fergus had noticed how well he was looking. He had filled out and put on some muscle. Right now, though, he looked tired and hopeless.

  "You stay here a few more days if you want, but if I stay we will get cabin fever." Vinny yawned and stretched his arms over his head.

  Fergus laughed and nodded. This was a distinct possibility and he patted Vinny's shoulder gently. "Be lucky, Vin." He gave Vinny the keys and went to the door with him, watching Vinny walk out into the rain and pull his jacket up to cover his head as he ran for the safety of the van.

  * * *

  There was a lot more involved to greeting than people imagined. The process was actually a bit of an art form. One had to make the client feel welcome and as though he had been missed. It was essential to always remember a client's name so that he felt that he was the most important person on the planet. Knowing how to treat the customers as well as the courtesans had made Mikhail a very successful man. He interviewed each of his boys personally to make sure that they were in this line of work for the right reasons.

  He

  also

  scrutinised

  their

  backgrounds. If there was even a hint that a boy was a drug addict he would not be hired. The same rule applied if he had a criminal record, even if it was for prostitution. Also, Mikhail did not technically hire them. They paid him for the use of a room as this kept him principally out of trouble with the law.

  He was brutally serious about his business, as were his boys, most of them being students making extra money working in an industry that Mikhail made sure they enjoyed as much as possible. No one could mistreat them. That was simply not tolerated. Mr MacGregor would occasionally ask if he could be rough with one of the boys, and for that reason he usually was entertained by Gabrys who knew him well and did not seem to mind the rare beating from him. He paid more for the privilege and sometimes would send the boy gifts when he couldn't call by to see him personally for a while.

  Mikhail took pride in his work and so as he stood and waited at the door for the next client to arrive, he knew in his heart that he would not be greeting to the best of his abilities this evening. His mind was on other things. Nevertheless as the door opened he put on his most charming of smiles and stepped forward preparing to make the client feel special. But then he froze in mid step.

  There in front to him, dressed from head to toe in black and looking a bit like a predatory spider, was Fergus's husband, Hugo.

  Mikhail faltered for only a moment and then he approached Hugo with as much confidence as he could muster, extending his hand to him. "Good evening, sir, and welcome to my establishment." Mikhail nodded in a friendly manner as Hugo shook his hand. "This is your first visit? I shall take your name, sir, and we can discuss how you would like to spend what I am sure will be an enjoyable evening with us."

  Mikhail lifted the client book and Hugo laughed. He looked around the hallway with his chin lifted condescendingly, acting as though just being in the place was beneath him.

  "I am not looking to be entertained. I get all the entertainment that I can handle, and I don't have to pay for it." Hugo smiled then walked over to the waiting room and peered inside. "I found one of your business cards in my husband's wallet, and I thought I would pay you a visit. You know my husband don't you? Fergus Campbell?"

  A feeling of panic rushed th
rough Mikhail's chest. He glanced to the room facing the waiting room and saw Gabrys there. The young man watched TV with the Japanese twins as he awaited his next appointment, all of them dressed casually in t-shirts and shorts. At Mikhail's, most of the young courtesans dressed casually, even while entertaining, unless a client requested otherwise of course. The client could request anything that he wanted, and as far as possible his wishes would be fulfilled. Gabrys looked as though he was just about to go outside and play a game of soccer rather than lie back for whoever's name was next on the list.

  Mikhail quickly called the boy to his side.

  "Gabrys, my dear, will you ask Sacha to take my place here? I have a personal matter to deal with." He then lowered his voice so that Hugo would not overhear him. "And please ask Cain to be available should I need him."

  Gabrys nodded, looking concerned, and the twins both leaned forward in their seats, also sensing a little tension in the air. Cain was only ever called for on a security matter, and the boys knew that this could mean that the strange dark-haired man who had wandered into the waiting room was potentially going to cause trouble.

  Mikhail watched Gabrys hurry off down the hallway to the office, and then he walked into the waiting room, his fake smile placed firmly on his lips.

  "You

  never

  answered

  me."

  Hugo

  appeared to appraise Mikhail with a sardonic smirk. "Do you know my husband? Fergus Campbell?"

  "Well, sir, I am sure that you will appreciate that discretion is a very important part of my business, but what I will say is this. I have conference facilities here. Not everyone who comes here comes to be entertained." Mikhail did his best to remain composed, and despite knowing that alcohol could make a bad situation worse, he poured two glasses of champagne and handed one to Hugo.

  Hugo took his drink with a smile and sat down. "Ah! I see." He nodded. "Well I just wondered. You know how it is. My husband is a very handsome and successful man, and one can never be too careful. There is always the possibility that some trashy whore from here would try to steal him away from me. Of course they would be on a hiding to nothing there as he loves me."

  Again Mikhail felt judged as Hugo's dark eyes wandered over him. In a strange way he felt violated by the openness of the stare, as if he was being stripped bare and evaluated by the spouse of his lover. What would Hugo be thinking? That Mikhail was older than him? Not as attractive?

  Mikhail absently neatened a curl of his hair as Hugo's smile widened.

  "My husband has always loved...only me."

  Mikhail glanced out into the hallway, barely listening to him, and he saw Cain standing at the doorway opposite, his arms folded, his expression fixed. Mikhail breathed a little sigh of relief. Fergus had of course told him all about Hugo, and he was genuinely afraid for his safety, but this emotion was pushed aside by another thought. Had Hugo come here not just to snoop on him but because Fergus was missing? Mikhail had not had the promised text from Fergus, and this was just not like him. Had he been missing since the robbery and Hugo was retracing his steps to try to find him? Mikhail's heart began to race and he realised that he had never felt this way before about anyone.

  Yes he was concerned for the man that he had so recently become close to, but there was something else and he was shocked by the depths of this new feeling. Hugo was once more watching him, and Mikhail took a deep breath, trying to make his voice sound as calm as possible.

  "And...how is Mr Campbell? I trust that he is well?" He allowed his eyes to stray over to the truly vain looking creature who sat perched on his fine sofa with an expression that implied he assumed the upholstery to be made out of effluence.

  How would Hugo like to be judged in the way he was so clearly doing to Mikhail?

  He was far too thin to be of any use to anyone. Hugo looked unhealthy, surly and a little frayed around the edges for one so young. Youth was usually a natural asset.

  On this boy it seemed to have been cosmetically erased.

  Hugo stared unflinchingly. "You are very close to my husband?" He crossed his legs and put his empty glass down. He then laced his fingers together and sat them against his knee.

  Mikhail smiled and sat down opposite him, aware that his own fingers trembled slightly. "He is a friend of mine. I deal mostly with Mr MacGregor, but your husband is a very charming person."

  "Oh, you know Jude as well, do you?"

  Hugo suddenly looked a little grave, but something about him made Mikhail think that it was all an act. The expression did not look genuine at all. "Then perhaps you will have heard? Such a terrible business."

  Mikhail had to concentrate now to keep his composure, but inside his heart was pounding. He had such a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach and resisted the urge to rush to Hugo's side and plead with him to tell him what had happened. Instead Mikhail simply continued to smile and spoke in his calm voice. "Has something happened? I do hope that everyone is okay." He sipped his drink mostly to mask the trembling of his lips. Mere alcohol was really not sufficient to calm his nerves at all at this moment.

  Hugo shook his head, still looking solemn.

  "Well I suppose since you know both Judas and Fergus, it is okay for me to tell you this. Judas MacGregor came to my home last night. He threatened me and asked me the whereabouts of Fergus. It might shock you, but he actually pulled a gun on me." He gave a large dramatic sounding sigh as though he had been through quite the ordeal. "He forced me to tell him where Fergus is, and I think that...he means to kill him. He seems to have got it into his head that Fergus betrayed him to the police."

  He looked directly into Mikhail's eyes now and Mikhail had the horrible feeling that he was being told all of this as some sort of punishment. "Well...where is F...Mr

  Campbell?"

  Mikhail's

  lips

  trembled even more when he spoke, the glass now held limply in his hands, almost spilling its contents, and he was sure that Hugo noticed and enjoyed seeing him like this.

  "I am no fool." Hugo got to his feet suddenly and lifted up the fur collars of his coat. They framed his face and gave him, if possible, an even more sinister air, like an anorexic Cruella De Ville. "I could never tell you that. I don't know you from a hole in the wall. Goodnight...Mikhail."

  "But perhaps if I knew where he was, there would be something that I could do!"

  Mikhail stood up too and placed his glass on the table. He approached Hugo and they faced each other, Mikhail being slightly taller than Hugo in heels, but Hugo still managed to appear to look down on him.

  "What on earth could you do? You run a brothel." He said the last word in such a disparaging way that even Mikhail, who had always been so proud of his profession, felt a momentary pang of shame. Hugo was truly manipulative, and Mikhail quickly realised that he would get nowhere with him.

  Hugo walked out of the room, his chin lifted, and as he passed Cain, his eyes wandered over him greedily, a small smile playing on his cruel thin lips.

  Once he had left, Gabrys and the twins rushed to Mikhail's side, all of them with expressions of concern.

  "He said Mr MacGregor had a gun?"

  Gabrys looked very wide eyed and Mikhail touched his cheek gently.

  "You are not to worry, Gabrys. He was just a silly man. You must go and get ready for your client. You too, boys."

  Mikhail looked at the twins who pouted mutinously, clearly wanting to remain and find out more about the mystery man that they had dubbed between them as the Black Widow. But they did as they were told and wandered along the corridor with Gabrys, stopping only briefly to try to provoke Cain into deserting his security stance by pinching him.

  Once they were out of earshot, Mikhail turned to Cain, whose eyes were still firmly narrowed on the pretty Asian boys, and Mikhail had to pat his arm gently to get his attention.

  "Cain!" He lifted his coat from the coat hook. "Please go and get the car at once!"

 
Hugo sat outside in his car, his gloved hands gripped tightly at the steering wheel although the vehicle was still stationary.

  So that was Mikhail. That was the trashy peroxide blond slut who Fergus had decided to fuck instead of his husband.

  The moment Hugo saw him at the party in the club that night he knew that Fergus was having an affair. No one dressed like that unless they were trying to get laid. Only Judas MacGregor deviated from the normal suits and ties. People were used to Judas and expected that of him. If a new goon had joined the Clan Campbell and had the nerve to turn up like that he would have found himself stripped and ridiculed.

  Hugo wanted to laugh at how primly Mikhail had stood in front of him. The tramp had tried to give such an air of respectability, and all the while he was fucking another man's husband and running a whorehouse.

  And the look of him!

  So heavily made up that Hugo had felt an urge to scrape his nails down the powder and leave tracks on his face. He looked like a poor imitation of a woman. If men liked men then they at least expected them to look like men.

  How could Fergus find that attractive?

  The layers of gunk slathered over his face.

  The fake tan that probably covered every inch of him. How could Fergus prefer that over Hugo?

  Hugo pulled the driver's seat shade down and stared into the mirror that it concealed.

  He was beautiful, he told himself.

  Thinner and younger.

  More natural even with the cosmetic work.

  He lifted his chin and breathed heavily, feeling a sudden surge of rage.

  Stupid fucking slut.

  He banged his fists against the steering wheel.

  Stupid fucking Fergus letting himself be taken in by all of that crap, the jewellery, the lace, the fluttering of the false lashes.

  Hugo pulled a tissue from his pocket and wiped his eyes.

  Well if Mikhail wanted Fergus he could have whatever was left of him after Judas was finished with him. Judas, with his blue eyes, his wonderful mouth...