Guarding His Desires (Passionate Security Book 2)

by Jaylen Florian

  "They may not be tied together at all," Zachary replies. "Let's challenge all of our previous assumptions."

  "You have chosen an ideal place for us to rest and collect our thoughts. Please don't hold back the truth. Do you think we are in danger here?"

  "I don't have an answer for you. Are you asking about short-term or long-term well-being?"

  "Either," Gustavo answers. "Both."

  "Short-term, we are on a peninsula with only one road, surrounded on three sides by lake water too cold to swim in. Long-term, there will be no peace until we resolve what forces are at work and then conquer them."

  "The answer sounds so bleak, but yet you seem hopeful. Confident even."

  "I believe we have some hours of relative serenity so we can think and gain new perspectives," Zachary says, "otherwise, I would have never rented this cabin for us. Some things may be coming into focus. Nevertheless, it is a picture I don't want to see."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Talk it through with me. Let your imagination run wild, Gustavo. Help me make sure there is nothing I am overlooking."

  "Okay, where do you want to begin?"

  "How were we discovered in the Laughlin hotel suite with the view of the river?" Zachary asks. "What are the possibilities?"

  Gustavo takes a few minutes to arrange his thoughts, counting on his fingers the options to remember. He sits upright in the hammock and begins.

  "One, there is a tracking device hidden inside the wand," Gustavo says. "Two, there is a tracking device concealed on one of our phones or in one of our bags. Three, Aleksey's app for the shared ride vehicles was compromised."

  "Good. Let's go through them one by one."

  "I have more," Gustavo protests.

  "We will analyze those too," Zachary responds. "We can start with your first three possibilities. I meticulously inspected the cobra and its box. They are clean. The instrument itself was not created with a secret chamber because that was not its purpose. Next up is whether our bags or phones have been compromised. They have not been out of our control, so I rule this out too. If your bag had been compromised at your friend's home in Madeira Canyon, we would have had an incident when retrieving it. Third, you mentioned Aleksey's app. You cannot imagine how careful he is with names, identifications, passwords, and credit cards. Be assured that when Aleksey organized our travel that we were moving undetected in terms of not leaving a trace."

  "Number four," Gustavo continues, "we were unknowingly tailed after escaping from Heather Wanda's office or leaving Makena's house in Madeira Canyon."

  "No, the condominium would be the easier place to catch us than following us all the way to Laughlin. I am certain of that. The same goes for Madeira Canyon."

  "Number five, a hotel visitor or tourist recognized you and posted something on social media indicating that you were in Laughlin," Gustavo says.

  "Even if I was recognized, which I think is unlikely considering the precautions we took, how would they know which room to knock on?" Zachary asks. "Aleksey books us under false names, of course."

  "Number six, my last one, is that based on chance a hotel employee, connected somehow to the fighting league, spilled the beans on which room we were staying in. I know it's improbable."

  "Forget coincidences. I don't believe in crystal balls, voodoo, poking dolls with needles, or any other so-called magic like that."

  "I admit I am stumped," Gustavo says. "It does not make sense."

  "Keep going," Zachary says. "There are more possibilities. Say the unpleasant ones. Don't leave anything out."

  "Number seven, Aleksey betrayed us."

  "He didn't."

  "Number eight, you betrayed us."

  "I didn't."

  "Number nine, I betrayed you and Aleksey."

  "Nope."

  "That is the end of the chain," Gustavo says. "There is no number ten. Unless—"

  "Unless what?" Zachary coaxes him further. "Say it."

  "Unless the phone of someone else you completely trust has been tapped somehow. Did you entrust your friend who is helping us—Nathaniel, the former world champion—with our sensitive location details?"

  "There it is, Gustavo. I agree it is the end of the chain. The only possibility left standing. I wanted to hear every possibility come out of your mouth so I could try to deny it. But it's impossible to deny."

  "Does Nathaniel know we are here now?" Gustavo blurts out, widening his eyes and raising his voice.

  "No. It is just us now."

  30

  Paddles

  Bundled in life jackets and knit caps, Gustavo and Zachary kayak on the lake as the sun sets behinds the mountains. They travel near the shoreline, past the lodges, homes, and boat docks whose lights glow in the dusk. Zachary, new to this type of boating, comments that the paddling is giving him a solid, unexpected workout. He surprises Gustavo too with unforced self-deprecation, as Zachary erroneously steers his kayak into Gustavo's on numerous occasions.

  They return to the dock and carry the kayaks onto stacked ledges secured against the side wall of the rental home. Both men are shivering from the cold. Zachary's teeth chatter as he urges Gustavo to shower first so he can check his phone for any word from Aleksey's captors.

  The one bathroom in the small, two-bedroom home is only large enough to cramp together a combination shower and tub beside a toilet and petite vanity with a mirror. The steam from the hot water jets quickly overwhelms the room with fog, so Gustavo opens the bathroom door to let the warmth drift outward into the other rooms. Stocked with vanilla-scented body washes and argan oil, the tiny shower exceeds his expectations with comfort.

  Climbing out of the shower to dry off amongst the swirling mists, Gustavo makes no attempt to hide his nudity from Zachary, who is waiting for his turn to thaw his chilled body. Semi-erect, from the temperature and the titillation of being noticed, Gustavo feigns that he is aware of any of Zachary's glances.

  Gustavo asks if he can remain in the bathroom and shave while Zachary showers. Zachary nods his head, steps under the shower head jets, and good-naturedly bellows as the water rejuvenates his frozen skin.

  Zachary is oblivious to Gustavo, whose hand shakes as he slices the blade through the foam on his neck and face. Gustavo lusts for Zachary's magnificent, tattooed body sparsely hidden in the steam and mist behind a transparent shower curtain. Gustavo presses his hips against the sink counter to hide his erection and to keep it from popping out between the folds of his towel.

  Both men dress in their own rooms into sweatpants, sweatshirts, and thick socks. Gustavo is in the living room first, checking a web site on his phone, when Zachary joins him and plops onto the sofa across from him.

  "A deceased person has been found in Griffith Park," Gustavo says. "According to the news report, he or she was near the top of a mountain ridge above the Greek Theater and a few hundred feet east of the observatory. Authorities have not been able to identify the body yet and the police have not released any details about the person's age, gender, or cause of death."

  "Is that in the proximity of the trail you told me about?" Zachary asks.

  "It's not. But the man's body could have been dragged. Even a mortally injured person could possibly limp a few hundred feet. I keep seeing the distress on that man's face. I wonder why he handed the box to me. Perhaps he knew he would die no matter what happened with it. I also have no clarity, because of his accent and difficulty with English, whether he really said "Wanda" or if he just said "wand" and I assumed he was delivering a person's name to me who he wanted to help. At the time, the name of a person would have been more expected from him than the name of an object. I think about this too much and replaying it over and over again in my mind—"wand" or "Wanda"—is not helping me figure it out."

  "It may not be his body. That man may have escaped the park too, like you did. A friendly reminder, Gustavo, that you should keep an open mind. We know the cobra has been in criminal hands. It is too dangerous and unproductive t
o try and trace its route to you, just for curiosity's sake, when what really matters is what you decide to do with it now."

  "I know. I need to keep focused on the present and the path ahead."

  "I am starving," Zachary says, changing the subject. "Do you trust my cooking?"

  "Let me handle dinner," Gustavo says. "Of course I trust you. But I like to cook. Let me give it a shot."

  "No meat or dairy for me. If you use anything in the cabinets left over from the previous renters, please remember."

  "I take it there is no call or text or anything on your phone yet regarding Aleksey. Is that right?"

  "Not yet," Zachary answers. "Those bastards better not be hurting him."

  "If they are intending to you use him as leverage, what do you think is the reason for their delay in contacting you?" Gustavo asks.

  "There could be several reasons. Foremost, the delay is building up tension. They may be hoping I panic and do something rash. I hate to imagine they are working him over and forcing information out of him, but that could be happening. It all depends on what their real motivations are, as well as their real target. Frankly, I just still don't see the picture clearly yet. What I believe is best right now is to think and wait, remaining concealed and as calm and level-headed as possible."

  Gustavo and Zachary devour baked potatoes, soup, and salad in the home's screened-in porch, warmed by a space heater and illuminated by an antique brass lantern. They move back into the living room for dark chocolate and coffee.

  "Delicious dinner," Zachary says, "thank you, my friend."

  "Would you like some time alone?" Gustavo asks. "I can read in my bedroom and give you peace and quiet."

  "I prefer you stay here with me. Will you?"

  "Of course."

  Gustavo retrieves a colorful pieced quilt from his bedroom and lays under it on the couch. Zachary asks if he can share it. Gustavo agrees and Zachary crawls onto Gustavo's couch, with his head at the opposite end. They wrap the quilt around their legs, which are pressed together for additional warmth. They rest together for several minutes before Zachary breaks the silence with a voice both subdued and affable.

  "I am impressed by your art," Zachary states.

  "I appreciate hearing this," Gustavo replies. "Which pieces?"

  "The nature pieces and the modern-style portraits. Honestly, everything you showed me. The Diamond Head painting struck right into my heart. I will never forget the day I first visited the tuff cone mountain in person. I was not prepared for the experience. As you know, you drive through a tunnel and park right in the center of the extinct volcano. Then that long and twisting trail, weaving through the ridges of the mountain, up steep stairways, and the air is stock still. But when you finally reach the pinnacle, the peak, you are rewarded with the most breathtaking views and ambiance. The ocean breeze refreshes you as you view the aqua and turquoise ocean to the south, the Honolulu skyline to the west, the green island mountains to the north, and the stunning cliffs and shoreline to the east. I have been fortunate enough to travel much of the world, but I have yet to garner an experience that matches the majesty of the Diamond Head crown."

  "It fascinates me intensely too. Besides its natural wonder, there is the military history. The forts and bunkers hidden in its rock walls. Its prominence as a sort of expressive and lyrical backdrop in almost all of the photographs people take on the beaches in Waikiki."

  "I noticed you captured the opposite view of it," Zachary says. "Instead of painting Diamond Head from the perspective of Waikiki, west to east, you portrayed it from the other side, east to west. Is it from the point of view of a mountain cliff? Your painting is not from ground level."

  "Your level of observance surprises me," Gustavo responds, "The vantage point that inspired me was from a helicopter ride. The lines of the cone seemed to me to be reaching, straining upward. I photographed that moment and then worked to recreate not just the physicality of it, but the emotional and spiritual aspects of it as well."

  "I admire too that you are not afraid to share your feelings through your art. I imagine that is not easy to do when releasing a piece for public sale and viewing."

  "Sharing is very hard. Not just for me, but I think for almost every artist. I hope I am getting better at releasing myself into my efforts and toughening up my skin to handle the inevitable voices of scorn, disinterest, or ridicule. Enjoyment of a piece of art is never universal. I remind myself that people are absolutely free to like or dislike anything based on their own personal reasons."

  "That is the truth. If you choose the public limelight you have to be prepared for intense fandom and hatred."

  "You got me to speak about one of my pieces," Gustavo notes. "I never do that. Not in specific terms. It is interesting to me that I dropped my guard with you."

  "What about the cobra?" Zachary asks. "Are you getting closer to a decision?"

  "I am not keeping it. I want to research more online about what Aleksey relayed to us about its history, though so far I can find nothing at all. I feel sure it is one and the same—The Clairvoyant Cobra. In my mind, regardless of the past hundred years since its theft, it belongs to either the silent film star's estate or The Smithsonian. Nobody else. Aleksey said his understanding was that the donation was made, just not officially transferred, which suggests that the rightful and proper owner is the museum institute."

  While Gustavo speaks, he is unaware of his foot and toes, which gently rub the side of Zachary's hip under the blanket. Zachary does not pull away or comment.

  "I believe we have an understanding," Gustavo says, "but it has not been vocalized in exact words yet. If I do whatever I can to help you rescue Aleksey and tackle your peril, will you assist me with transferring the wand into its rightful hands?"

  "I will," Zachary answers. "But are you certain you want to take the risks of getting snagged in my web? Isn't your easiest path to strike out on your own and leave my problems behind?"

  "I don't know what is easiest. My instincts persist that I must stay with you. I want to follow my instincts."

  "I cannot guarantee your safety, Gustavo."

  "I understand that."

  "Then we officially have a deal," Zachary says.

  The men fall asleep. Gustavo wakes an hour later, turns off the lights, and returns to his position on the couch, under the covers, with his legs pressed against Zachary.

  31

  Photograph

  Gustavo returns to the cabin carrying a few bags of groceries from a general store, adjacent to a lakefront lodge, half a mile away. Zachary is sweeping pine needles off the deck, as well as collecting the fallen pine cones in a barrel to satisfy the expressed wish of the homeowners. He asks Gustavo if the brief journey was without incident.

  "Nobody paid much attention to me," Gustavo answers. "Most of the tourists and locals must still be asleep. The little roads around here barely had any vehicles on them."

  "I got really alarmed about fifteen minutes ago," Zachary says. "A woman in a boat was moseying around this peninsula, Gibralter Point. She was taking pictures with a hefty SLR camera and photographed me while I was cleaning the kayaks. I acted on impulse and yelled to her, asking her what the hell she was doing. She dismissively waved her arm at me and continued taking pictures in other directions as her boat floated away."

  "Do we need to scram and bust out of here?"

  "I thought so at first. But when I settled down I realized she was probably a real estate agent. She was middle aged, conservatively dressed with makeup and a professional appearance, and seemingly not bothered at all by me catching her using her camera."

  "That could make sense," Gustavo says. "The real estate images for the web sites and print listings are going to feature the waterfront views, not the garages facing the dreary streets. She was photographing other cabins and houses on Gibralter Point?"

  "She was," Zachary answers. "Let's stay on our toes, so to speak, but I think she was harmless."

  After breakf
ast, the men board a two-seater paddleboat they find in the cabin's storage shed. A blue canopy shields their faces from direct sunlight. Seat cushions add to their comfort, but the narrowness of the boat requires their shoulders to be squashed together throughout the trip. Paddling in tandem with their legs, using the bicycle-like motions that are required to operate it, the men pick up enough speed to cross the lake and explore its northern shorefront.

  "Whoa, tiger," Gustavo says, as they reach a cove secluded from boat traffic. "I am fit, but not crazy muscular like you. That's a compliment, by the way, not an insult just because I used the word crazy. Can we drift for a few minutes?"

  "Sure," Zachary answers. "I will pay you a compliment too. Has anyone told you how cute you are when you sleep?"

  "No. Are you joking?"

  "Why would I be joking?"

  "What did I do?" Gustavo asks.

  "You wear contentment on your face that is unusual," Zachary answers. "More than just being at peace, lost in your own world, the corners of your mouth curl upward, ever so slightly, like you are about to break into a smile."

  "That sounds like a silly look."

  "Nah, it's adorable."

  "It is nice to hear that there is something about me that does not physically repulse you."

  "Pardon me?" Zachary asks, scrunching his eyebrows together and grimacing.

  "I am sorry and I regret that quip," Gustavo says. "That was a cheap shot and it just spilled out of my mouth."

  "Where did that comment originate from?"

  "It stung when you told me back in the condominium near Vegas that I was not your type."

  "I already apologized to you for that comment, Gustavo."

  "I know. You don't deserve to have it thrown back at you."

  "It really must have hit a raw nerve," Zachary says.

  "My achilles heel, I guess," Gustavo replies. "It is painful to be attracted to someone who has no reciprocal attraction. I mean, I don't dare think that with all of the pro fighters, movie stars, models, or business executives you have to choose from that you would ever want to be with me. That would be the absolute height of hysterical narcissism or ego mania."