by Laurin Kelly
With a quiet grunt that belied the intensity of his orgasm, Rob came furiously, semen dripping over his hand and onto the shower floor. He kept stroking until he was completely spent and soft, still picturing those delicate features decorated with his come. He finally let his hand fall away, Kelan's face fading and replaced by the dark green tiled walls of his shower. Exhaling, Rob turned to face the shower spray, rinsing off both the results of his release and the remaining soap. He watched as they pooled and slid down the drain, thinking about what he'd just done. It had made jerking off different than usual, thinking about Kelan as he did it. His mind tried to suggest words like intimacy and connection, and he snorted. One had to be quite the loner to feel a sense of intimacy just because you knew the name of the guy you were picturing while jacking off in the shower. Rolling his eyes, he shut the water off.
Rob walked naked into his dark bedroom, going over to the sleek dresser opposite the door. He fished a pair of black boxer briefs out of the top drawer and slipped them on. He thought about doing a bit more work before retiring, but the combination of rigorous weight training, steamy shower, and powerful climax had him turning to the bed instead. Getting in, he pulled the top sheet to hip level. Rob slung one arm up over his head and the other across his waist; having attained his usual comfortable sleep position, he felt his mind and body relax as he drifted off to sleep.
He woke a short time later to a faint shuffling noise. He reached for the gun he kept on the side table. Before he could grasp it, though, something hard and cold crashed into the side of his head. He fell to the side, and before he could get back up, the room was flooded with light. Wincing, Rob righted himself and opened his eyes to see a tall, slim Japanese man holding a gun on him. What the fuck? This was not good. He'd been in this particular apartment for over two years, and it had never been breached before.
The man picked up Rob's gun from the table and pushed it into the back of his pants. "Where are they?" he asked.
"Where is who?"
"Not who, asshole. What. The pictures. Where are they?"
"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about. What pictures?"
"Don't play dumb with me, Diorso. The photos you liberated from a certain strip club two nights ago. Where are they?"
Two nights ago... "The ones of Brock McLennan?" Rob said, finally getting the picture. "Fuck if I know. Last I saw, they were in a floor safe under Rick Nelson's desk."
"Really. That's funny, because I can assure you they're no longer there. But we know you were there, and that you were in his office for quite some time."
"Did Nelson tell you I took them?" Rob said. "Because if he did, he wasted your time and your client's money. If I were you guys I'd be pissed about that."
"It would be hard for a dead man to tell us much of anything."
"Nelson's dead?"
"Your clueless act's pretty good, Diorso. Too bad I don't buy it. You killed him and took the pictures. Now stop stalling and tell me where they are. The only person wasting my time is you. And you're right, it's pissing me off."
"I told you, I don't fucking have them." As soon as the words left his mouth, though, he thought of someone who might. "That little piece of shit."
"What?"
"Kelan fucking Pratt. He was there too. Looking for the same thing I was, which was definitely not pictures. I watched him leave before I did, and Nelson was still alive. But he must have gone back, finished Nelson off and taken the photos. Sneaky motherfucker."
"I see. Well, if that's the case, my colleague will have more luck getting them back than me tonight."
Rob frowned. "What do you mean?"
"I imagine my partner's taken care of him by now and has the photos. If in fact you're telling the truth and don't have them yourself."
"I am and I don't. So why don't you fuck off out of here, because you're not going to find anything." Rob was furious. He'd have to find a new place now, which would be a pain in the ass. Kelan had apparently decided to indulge in a little personal blackmail, which was disappointing somehow. He'd thought that Kelan was a worthy rival with the highest level of professionalism like himself. Instead he was just another greedy bottom-feeder, and worse, he'd dragged Rob down into the muck with him. He wasn't distressed in the least that Kelan could be dead right now; if he was upset about anything it was that he wouldn't have a chance to kill him personally.
The man laughed. "You think I'm going to just take your word for it and leave? You must take me for an amateur or something..." He drew a little closer to the bed, lining up the sight of the gun directly between Rob's eyebrows.
Rob readied himself, knowing his only chance was to roll quickly off the bed as soon as he saw the guy start to pull the trigger. It would be a question of who was faster; no more, no less. He tensed his body knowing the moment was imminent. Then a gunshot rang out and the right side of the man's head blew outward in a clump of brain tissue and spray of blood. The body fell to the floor with a meaty thump, and Rob immediately looked behind where he'd been standing. He couldn't keep from sucking in a breath at who was standing in his bedroom doorway.
"Good evening, Rob," Kelan said, calmly. "Pleasure to see you again."
Rob looked down at the foot of his bed, then back up to Kelan. It took a lot to surprise Rob, but it was something Kelan seemed to excel particularly at. "What are you doing here?"
"Saving your ass. Kind of the opposite of what I intended when I headed over here, but there you go."
"What?"
"I came here to kill you," said Kelan, still holding his gun at the ready. "I've known your home base since the day after we last met." He looked at the dead man on the floor. "I had an unexpected visitor this evening. He seemed to think I killed Nelson and took those pictures of McLennan. Of course I knew I hadn't, but he seemed rather convinced. So the only logical conclusion was that you'd done it."
"You still think I have them?" He didn't know how much Kelan had heard of his discussion with the intruder, or how much of it he believed.
"I'd hate to think that. I thought you were like me. Focused. Professional. Not the type to be distracted from the task at hand by something as mundane as blackmail." His mouth thinned.
"I don't have them," said Rob. "You can kill me, but it won't change the fact that you won't find a single one of those pictures here." Rob pushed the sheet off and stood, hands up and approaching Kelan cautiously. "We could go around in circles like this all night with both of us thinking the other one might have them. But if both of us are telling the truth we're wasting our time."
Kelan's eyes crawled all over Rob's body. "And a better use of our time?" he asked tartly, finally holstering his gun.
"Maybe getting the hell out of here before the next person who wants to kill us arrives. It's a safe bet that McLennan ordered the hits personally, and considering what he has to lose if those pictures come out he won't give up trying to get rid of us anytime soon. We're both damn good, but each of our residences was breached tonight. He can obviously afford the best. I don't know about you, but I'm going to ground until I can figure out who offed Nelson and took the photos after we left The Fox Hole."
"Sounds more like our problem."
"You want to work together on this?"
"Look, under normal circumstances I'd consider the idea laughable. I'm not exactly known for playing well with others. But you're good, I'm good, and if we temporarily join forces we can take care of this in a few days." Kelan smiled. "I'd like to get back to kicking your ass at finding Dwyer's will."
Rob scoffed. "You mean you want to get back to trying to catch up with me. I don't blame you. I'm sure you've got quite a ways to go."
Kelan rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say, big guy. We'll just see who gets there first. In the meantime, what do you say? Want to take care of this annoying little political issue together?"
Normally Rob would have dismissed the idea out of hand. He didn't work with a partner. Not since... he refused to think about it. Bu
t the logical part of him knew Kelan was right. The combination of brains, strength and expertise would prove an extremely difficult if not impossible force to overcome.
"Fine. We'll team up for now, so we can both get back to business. I have a safe house. I haven't used it in years, and my ownership of the property is buried so deep it would be near impossible to dig up a connection."
"Excellent." Kelan raised an eyebrow. "You're a little underdressed. Not that I mind the view, but we should move quickly."
"Of course." Rob grabbed a pair of jeans and a dark green tee from his dresser and pulled them on.
He walked around to the other side of the bed, scooping his gun off the bedside table. "Shall we?" Rob gestured towards the door.
"Where are we heading?"
"Probably the last place anyone would think to look for us. A small, blue collar town in Ohio called Lancaster. Population just under forty thousand."
"Small enough to be off the radar," said Kelan. "Big enough that a couple of new temporary residents will go completely unnoticed."
"Exactly."
Kelan smiled wryly. "Sounds perfect. Lead the way."
Five
The headlights splashed over the large roadside sign as the nondescript tan sedan passed it. Welcome to Lancaster—Home of the Fairfield County Fair. Rob guided the car through the outskirts of town and into a decently sized downtown area. There were several small businesses: a coffee shop, a pizza place, a bar, a pawnshop. It was close to one-thirty am and the buildings and streets were dark and deserted. They drove through downtown into a more residential area, probably the better side of town based on the neat houses with well-kept lawns.
They finally came to another residential area, very different than the first one. This neighborhood was made up of run-down looking apartment buildings and duplex houses. It was unlikely that any of the lawns had seen a sprinkler in the recent past, and many had toys and bikes that had seen better days littering them. Rob had chosen the neighborhood carefully; the majority of rental housing meant a transient community, and the disrepair pointed to residents who were unlikely to pay too much attention to the comings and goings of their neighbors. He drove to the end of the street and pulled up to a duplex with peeling gray paint that might have once been white. There was a faint glow of light at one of the windows. He drove around to the back of the building to a dilapidated garage. He shifted the car into park and climbed out, heading to a barely illuminated area about ten feet from the garage. Rob picked up a rock and removed the hidden key beneath it. Moments later the rickety double garage doors opened, revealing a barren interior. Rob swiftly backed the car into it and closed the doors.
"It might not be up to your usual standards, but we'll have to make do," Rob said as he killed the engine. "Let's go."
Kelan grabbing a large black duffel bag from the backseat. He flicked on a slender flashlight and climbed out of the car while Rob closed the garage. Rob put the key back under the rock then picked up another one a few feet away and retrieved a different key. They made their way to the back door of the house with the narrow beam from the flashlight preceding them. Rob unlocked the door and they slipped inside.
The back door opened into the kitchen. The light was from the bulb inside the oven hood, which cast the room around them into shadows. Rob reached over to the wall, and with a clicking noise the kitchen was fully lit.
Kelan looked at Rob. "Sure you should be doing that?" he asked.
"Not that anyone around here gives a shit, but even if they did, this wouldn't be unusual. I've got nearly every light in the place rigged up. Some of them turn off and on at regular times, others randomly. There's a local handyman who comes once a month to change the light bulbs. He also runs water during cold spells so the pipes don't burst, shovels snow, and mows the lawn in the summer. Enough to give the impression someone lives here."
Kelan nodded. "You can show me the layout tomorrow and we can decide how best to set up shop. You wouldn't happen to have any food around, would you? It's been almost a full day since I've eaten, and I'm starting to feel the effects." He looked Rob up and down. "Unlike you, we don't all have an enticing extra layer to live off of." There was no malice in his tone, just a touch of halfhearted teasing.
Rob smirked. "I guess we can't have you wilting like some delicate flower.
Kelan's eyes narrowed. He extended the middle finger of his right hand. "You're hilarious."
Snickering, Rob went to the cupboards. "I've got some canned goods for now. Tomorrow I'll run to the store and pick up some provisions for a few days." He grabbed a can of chicken noodle soup and threw it at Kelan.
As he’d expected, hunger didn't seem to be affecting Kelan's reflexes. Without even the barest flinch Kelan’s hand flew up, effortlessly catching the can. "Looks good."
Kelan looked up, a familiar sly expression overtaking his face. Kelan rose and moved to stand in front of Rob, so close Rob could feel his body heat. "You want some of this?"
Rob considered. It wasn't like it hadn't crossed his mind that going underground with Kelan might result in sex. They were on the same side—at least temporarily—and there was obvious physical desire on both of their parts. But Rob had a sense their repartee was more about Kelan gaining the upper hand than lust. Despite their current collaboration, there was still an underlying power struggle. And Rob wasn't willing to give an inch no matter how much he wanted to feel the tight heat of Kelan's ass wrapped around his cock.
He stepped back, breaking the connection. "I think I'll pass for now." He tried not to grin at Kelan's surprise. "I've had enough to get me through for a while. I can wait until I'm able to get a hold of something more appetizing."
There was surprise in Kelan's eyes, but just as quickly it disappeared. Kelan shrugged off-handedly. "Suit yourself," he said, slipping by Rob and heading over to the stove. "It's going to be tasty. You don't know what you're missing."
Rob went to one of the lower cupboards and got out a small saucepan. He held it out to Kelan, smiling broadly. "I'll take my chances." He caught the brief press of Kelan's lips as he scored the point. "At least for now."
Kelan snatched the pan out of Rob's hand, setting it on the stove with exaggerated care. He peeled the lid off and dumped the contents into the pan.
Rob decided he should leave while he was still ahead. It was obvious that Kelan wasn't used to resistance when it came to his manipulative seduction tactics, so in the spirit of successful collaboration Rob figured he should drop needling Kelan about it for the moment. "I'm going to turn the heat up."
In the living room, he flicked on a small table lamp and turned the heat up to seventy degrees. Everything looked the same as it did the last time he'd used the safe house. Although he could have easily furnished it as comfortably as his apartment, it was best that the place looked like it belonged in this neighborhood on the inside as well as the outside. The handyman he'd hired probably already thought it a little strange how well he was paid for the little he did, and the fact his check was deposited directly into his bank account by the anonymous-sounding "Sawhorse Industries". Rob didn't need the added attention of having high-quality furnishings in a house that was seldom occupied, so he furnished the place from Goodwill complete with the lumpiest, ugliest couch he could get his hands on and an ancient fifteen inch tube television. It was a dump, but it hardly mattered. Rob hadn't grown up in much better anyway.
He looked around, making sure that everything was exactly as he had left it. All of the weapons he'd stashed were in place, and he clicked on the TV to make sure his cable/internet service was still up and running. He and Kelan had bought a new laptop and router to hook up at the safe house, but they would also need to heavily secure the network to avoid detection.
Rob went back into the kitchen, where Kelan was sitting at the cheap Formica dinette set spooning soup into his mouth. Rob slung himself into the chair opposite him. "Better?"
"Of course," Kelan said coolly, straightening up. "So why
did you choose this place?"
"I grew up here. Not this house, of course, but a few streets over in one of the apartment buildings."
Kelan looked shocked, then pissed. "What? You said your ownership of this place was buried deep. That's a pretty goddamn obvious connection, Rob. A three year old who's seen Blue's Clues could suss it out."
"Calm down. Rob Diorso never lived here. My real identity might as well be locked in a fireproof safe at the center of the Earth. No one's ever discovered it, and I've taken every precaution to make sure they never will."
"What about the people here?" Kelan looked completely baffled. "You said you were going to the store tomorrow. Won't someone recognize you? It's not the smallest town, but it's no New York or L.A., either."
"No one here ever saw me. My dad was in the business too, but in a much less sophisticated way. He was your typical babbo. Roughed up people who owed small time bookies, did some quick and dirty B&E, couriered coke and heroin, that kind of thing. A real knuckle-dragger. I didn't go to school. I didn't go anywhere. I learned what I could from educational programming on TV and taught myself how to read."
"Where was your mother?"
"Hell if I know. Ran off, I imagine." Rob shrugged. "When I got old enough—about twelve—Dad started taking me on jobs with him. He was getting older, slower. The years of drinking and getting clocked in the head were making it harder for him. It's how I got my start."
"What happened then?"
Rob was surprised Kelan seemed so interested but continued. "It didn't take me long to figure out why we never had much money. Deep down, Pop was a chicken-shit. He'd only take the jobs with the least amount of risk, like beating up wasted crackheads half his size. He'd get offered jobs to take someone out or obtain something expensive that was well protected, but he'd pass on it. We couldn't even keep our utilities on each month, but he'd turn down a job that could have paid them for a year. He was a fucking coward, but me? I was a mean, smart little bastard. When I was sixteen, Pop was offered a hit on a cop who was on the take but not holding up his end of the deal. When he turned it down, I offered to take it."