by J. P. Bowie
Frank Costello, a diminutive figure with a nervous tic in his left eye, shuffled toward Garcia holding out a dirty envelope. For many years, Costello had been employed by a major film studio as a make-up artist. His mastery of the craft had made him one of the most sought after men in the business, but years of alcoholism had eventually rendered him unemployable. Now he peddled his talent to felons on the run, far from the glamour of Hollywood.
“Everything you need is in here,” he said, his eye fluttering madly. “You have my money?”
Garcia slid the fake driver’s licenses from the envelope and scrutinized them with care, then nodded with satisfaction. “You do good work.” Costello smirked and held out his hand. Garcia tucked the envelope into his inside pocket, then pulled out a handgun and shot Costello in the forehead. Quickly, he stepped over the fallen man’s crumpled body. Signaling for his companion to leave ahead of him, he turned off the light and left the room. Running down the stairs to the street, he threw himself into the black Saturn parked outside and drove away, heading toward Centre Avenue.
§ § § §
From inside the Saturn, Garcia had a clear view across the street to the police headquarters’ entrance. He sat patiently waiting, watching the comings and goings of police officers, civilian employees, parole officers, and the many complainants and detainees that spilled in and out of the police station. He wondered if he would immediately recognize the man he wanted. It had been a long time since he had last seen Hawkins, but he felt the man’s face was forever imprinted in his memory. And, of course, the other one. Fallon—the maricón—the queer. He had moved to California, but that would not save him. Garcia’s mouth lifted in a cruel smile, his eyes glittering as he saw Andy Hawkins, flanked by two detectives, get out of a car on the other side of the street and enter the precinct.
Perfect. He picked up his gun, already equipped with its silencer, and stepped out of the car. He walked with a quickening pace across the street and up the steps, pushing through the doors and into the congested lobby. His eyes quickly scanned the crowd ahead of him. He could see Hawkins talking with the two detectives who had accompanied him into the building. Beside them, an overweight blonde woman was arguing with a man—presumably her husband.
Garcia did not hesitate. Striding forward, he pretended to stumble, pushing the overweight woman up against one of the detectives. With startled cries, they both crashed to the ground.
“What the fuck—?”
Hawkins started to laugh at the sight of his friend floundering under the weight of the woman. Few people heard the pop of the gun that sent two bullets into Andy Hawkins’ chest and stomach. He fell forward onto the fat woman’s back, staining her white sweatshirt with the blood that now poured from his wounds. People were staring, some were laughing, so it took many seconds before anyone realized just what had happened. It wasn’t until Andy’s body rolled off the fat woman, revealing his blood soaked clothing that the screaming started. Immediate chaos broke out, with people trying to escape through the precinct doors, and cops swarming everywhere endeavoring to restore order. In all that confusion, no one even noticed Garcia, who had already slipped out and was driving away from the scene.
Coasting down a darkened Liberty Avenue, his lips parted in a parody of a smile, Garcia sent a silent prayer to the blessed Virgin for her help in sending one more of his son’s killers to the fires of Hell. Now, only one remained, and soon, Joseph’s soul would be appeased.
§ § § §
Laguna Beach:
Nick stepped out of the shower, toweled himself off then pulled on a terry robe that hung on the bathroom door. He padded out into the bedroom still rubbing a towel over his hair.
“Hey Nick,” Eric called from the living room. “Better come watch this.”
“What’s up?” He poked his head round the bedroom door.
“There’s some kind of live report from Pittsburgh. Looks like a shooting at the police precinct.”
Nick sank down onto the couch next to Eric, his eyes glued to the TV screen. Even before the newscaster said the words, he knew what had happened.
“Oh no,” he whispered as Andy’s image appeared on the screen.
“Detective Andy Hawkins was gunned down by an unknown assailant today in front of his fellow officers and approximately upwards of twenty witnesses, yet no one could identify the shooter.” The reporter, yelling into his microphone, looked bug-eyed with disbelief at his own statement.
“According to those looking on, there was some kind of altercation and when it was over, Detective Hawkins was found shot in the chest and stomach. He was pronounced dead at the scene.”
Nick was aware of Eric moving closer to him. “Was he a friend of yours?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Eric—” Nick grasped his arm. “You have to get out of here.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“It’s not safe for you to be around me right now.” Nick tightened his grip on Eric’s arm causing him to wince. “The guy who shot Andy is going to come looking for me. I can’t have you in the line of fire. You have to go. Maybe Andrew and Dave can put you up for a while. I’ll call them right now—”
“Nick, stop!” Eric pried Nick’s fingers from his arm. “You’re not making any sense. How do you know who killed your friend? The report said an unknown assailant.”
“I know who killed Andy. It’s a guy called Francisco Garcia. He escaped from Penn State Prison a couple of days ago.”
“But why would he be after you?”
“Because four years ago, I was part of an operation that put him away. The guy’s been on death row for three years, Eric. Some bastards helped him escape and now he’s already gotten to Andy. Jesus!” He leaned back into the couch and stared at the wall, his mind churning with anxiety. “Eric, I have to get you out of here. He’s not going to stop until he’s tried to kill me too.”
“Then I’m not leaving you,” Eric said with a quiet firmness. “If you think I could do that when some maniac is threatening your life, you don’t know me very well.”
“Eric,” Nick groaned. He took Eric’s hand in his own. “Please listen to me. Things went really wrong when we went in to arrest Garcia and his cronies. His youngest son was shot and killed. Two of the men I worked with were also killed. But that wasn’t enough for Garcia. He vowed to get Andy and me—right there in the courtroom he made a vow to avenge his son’s death. He meant every word he said, Eric. And Andy, with all the protection in the world, is dead. Unknown assailant—you see how clever he is? They didn’t even see him come into the precinct, or leave. He’s probably on his way here right now.”
“But surely the cops will be watching the airports for any sign of him,” Eric protested.
“I’m sure they are, but like I said, Garcia is clever. He knows where the cops will be watching for him.”
“So he can’t get on a plane.”
“Not a commercial flight, for sure.”
“You mean he could charter a private plane,” Eric said. “But since 9/11 all those flights are carefully monitored. You just can’t fly out of a major airport without the proper clearance.”
“Right, but there’s a bunch of private airfields he could use. Believe me, Garcia has connections everywhere. There’s nothing he can’t get hold of when he wants it.”
Eric was quiet for a moment or two then he said, “If that’s true, why has he waited this long to get his revenge? Why didn’t he just arrange a hit on you and Andy?”
“Because it was his son, Joseph, who was killed that day. Word was he loved that boy more than his own life. He has to do the job himself in order to feel that Joseph has been totally avenged.”
“God,” Eric whispered, then louder said, “but I’m still not leaving you.”
Nick’s expression turned dark. “You have to, Eric.”
“No.”
“Eric!” Nick rose from the couch and paced with frustration. �
��Don’t fight me on this, please. I can’t protect you every minute of the day. I’m going to tell Monica to take some time off in case Garcia shows up at the office. I will not have anyone else in danger. Do you understand?”
Eric stood to face him, tears stinging his eyes. “Nick, I can’t leave you on your own.”
“Believe me, you’ll be doing us both a favor.”
“How can you say that?”
“Because on my own, I only have my own back to watch. If I have to worry about him seeing you here with me—”
“But if he’s so well-connected,” Eric interrupted, “don’t you think he knows about that already?”
“He may not. He didn’t know Joseph was gay.”
“Huh?” Eric wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “How did you know?”
“Sam Valance, one of the detectives who was killed that day, was having an affair with the kid.”
“Wow…and Garcia didn’t know this?” Eric smirked slightly. “Maybe he’s not as clever as you think.”
“Fathers tend to not want to see that in their sons.”
Eric nodded. “Right. Anyway, I’m still not leaving.”
Nick’s shoulders slumped with despair. “Eric, please.”
“Even ‘pretty please’ won’t do it.” Eric put his arms around Nick and held him tight. “I love you, Nick, and I will not leave you to face this alone. We’ve been in tight spots together, before. Two against one are better odds, don’t you think?”
“You don’t know what this guy is capable of,” Nick said, his voice muffled against Eric’s hair. “This isn’t some over-the-top moron like that joker, Lefevre, we tangled with last year. This guy is cold and calculating.” He could not suppress a shudder as he thought of Garcia coming anywhere close to Eric. “Please go stay with Andrew and David, just for a few days.”
Before Nick could say anything more, his head jerked toward the sound of his cell phone ringing in the bedroom where he’d left it. He pulled away from Eric. “I have to take that,” he muttered, striding into the bedroom and picking up his phone.
“Nick Fallon.”
“Nick, it’s Tom. You seen the news ’bout Andy?”
“Yes.”
“Tough break. Garcia of course, though no one saw him enter or leave. So, here’s the thing…” Tom paused to blow his nose. “Some retired makeup artist into supplying disguises and fake ID’s was found dead a couple of hours ago. Shot in the head. Coincidence?”
“Probably not,” Nick said. “You’re thinking Garcia?” The silence on the other end was the answer Nick expected. “So, he’s disguised and has a fake ID. He could be anywhere by now.”
“I’m thinking on a plane headed for California,” Tom said. “Look out for yourself, Nick.”
“Yeah, thanks Tom.”
Eric, who had followed Nick into the bedroom, watched him as he threw his cell phone onto the bed. Nick met his eyes and shrugged. “Well, he’s most likely on his way here.”
“How could he get through without the police seeing him?”
“He’s disguised, and has fake ID.”
“So it’s that easy?” Eric asked in disbelief. “You just put on a false beard, dye your hair and you can fool all of Pittsburgh’s finest?”
“I told you, Garcia is clever—very clever, Eric. His disguise will be anything but obvious. Now, will you call Andrew and tell him you need to stay for a while? Just don’t tell him why.”
“Nick, I can’t do this. I can’t leave you alone.”
“Okay, Eric.” Nick stared at him, his eyes hard as flint. “I’m only going to ask you one more time. If you don’t do what I ask, then we’re through.”
“What?”
“You heard me. If you can’t respect me enough to do what I think is best for you, for me, for the both of us, then I don’t want you in my life anymore.”
“Nick!” Eric looked at him, fury in his eyes. “You’re twisting this around. Of course, I respect you. Why would you even question that?”
“Then do what I’m telling you to!” Nick all but thundered at him. “Stop being a stubborn little prick and call Andrew—now.”
“All right!” Eric yelled back, ashen-faced. “You win, Mr. Macho-man. Have it your way. But if you get yourself killed, I’ll never forgive you. You hear me?” Shaking with emotion, he picked the nightstand phone, punching in Andrew’s speed dial number. “Hi Andrew, it’s Eric.”
“Hey, Eric…” Andrew’s voice held concern. “You sound upset.”
“Nick and I just had a major fight. He’s being an asshole. D’you think I could crash with you guys for a couple of days? I just need to get away from here right now.”
“Of course. How serious is it?”
“Serious. You don’t mind?”
“Of course not. Come on over. The sooner he misses you, the better.”
Despite himself, Eric smiled. “You’re the best, Andrew. I’ll be right there.” He hung up and turned to face Nick. “Happy now?”
“Eric, don’t be mad. You know I’m only doing this—”
“Because you love me,” Eric finished for him. “I know.” He stepped into Nick’s embrace. “Oh my God, please be careful, Nick, please…”
Nick silenced him with a long, hard kiss. When it was over, they managed to smile at each other. “So,” Nick whispered, “I’m being an asshole?”
“Sorry.” Eric looked contrite for a moment then a sly smile flitted across his face. “Maybe before I go…?” He slipped his hand inside Nick’s robe, gently teasing Nick’s right nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Nick shucked off his robe and pressed his naked body to Eric’s, holding him in a fierce embrace. Their lips came together in a bruising kiss, tongues sweeping inside each other’s mouths, swirling, probing, leaving no part of their moist heat untouched.
Nick pulled at Eric’s shirt, ripped at the waistband of his shorts, pausing only so Eric could step out of them, then sank to his knees to take Eric’s hard and throbbing cock into his mouth, sucking the pulsing flesh all the way to the back of his throat. Eric writhed and moaned, his fingers tangling in Nick’s thick, dark brown hair as Nick’s big hands cupped the round swell of Eric’s butt, his middle finger sliding into the cleft, pushing gently at the puckered hole, causing Eric to gasp.
“You have to fuck me, Nick,” he panted. “Want to feel that hard cock of yours deep inside me.”
Nick released Eric’s erection and stood up. He gathered Eric in his arms then lowered him onto the bed, covering his naked body with his own, their hard dicks moving over one another with a slow, sensuous rhythm. Nick reached for the lube, coated his fingers then inserted first one, then two into Eric’s tight hole. Eric groaned and wrapped his arms around Nick’s neck, his legs around Nick’s lean torso, lifting his hips as Nick withdrew his fingers and replaced them with the head of his rock-hard shaft. He pushed in slowly, his eyes locked on Eric’s, his breath catching in his chest as he slid into Eric’s heat.
“Okay?” he murmured.
“Oh yeah, you feel so wonderful right there.”
Nick could still remember with thrilling clarity the first time he had fucked Eric without protection. After both of them had tested negative for over a year, they had made the decision to dispense with condoms, and that first time had been an experience neither man would forget. Just like then, the almost wanton-like smile on Eric’s face told him that they both shared this rapture. That every slow thrust he made into Eric’s hot core brought his lover the same mind-blowing sensations he felt in every particle of his body.
“Oh babe…” His voice sound thick to his ears. “You are so fucking beautiful when you smile at me like that.”
Eric’s hands slid down the length of Nick’s back, caressing each taut, straining muscle on the way. His smile deepened as he cupped Nick’s butt, pulling him in and at the same time pushing his own hips higher, taking Nick balls deep inside.
“And you are truly fucking sensational,” he whispered, licking
his lower lip.
Nick stared at the soft glistening flesh and groaned, plundering Eric’s mouth with long, hot sweeps of his tongue, while his cock now thrust harder, faster, the rhythm perfect, each push of his pelvis bringing moans and whimpers from Eric. The feel of his cock sliding back and forth inside Eric’s silken heat was enough to bring him to the edge.
And even closer when Eric’s lips touched his ear with an urgent whisper. “Oh Jesus, Nick, gonna come.” He stared up at Nick, his eyes wide, as if in wonder. His arms tightened around Nick, his body spasmed and convulsed as he came, shooting a stream of cum between their torsos.