For Immediate Release

by Clancy Nacht

  “Then why the gun?”

  “So you wouldn’t argue.” Gideon frowned but it turned into a cryptic, sidelong smile. “Maybe I was a little angry with you and wanted you to be scared.”

  Lance frowned. “What if I’d fought?”

  “I would’ve knocked you out and put you in the trunk.” Gideon raised his brows in challenge.

  “Pfft. You’re not all that. I could take you. I took down those two guys, drunk.” Lance snatched away his hand petulantly but couldn’t help the grin that was sneaking past his defenses.

  This wasn’t a kidnapping and murder; this was a rescue. Maybe.

  “For your benefit, I’m going to pretend that you did not just compare me unfavorably to the nitwits Schrader has working for him.” Gideon shook his head. “It would take five Voelkers to even inconvenience me, no matter what I’d had to drink. And if you doubt me, ask Voelker.”

  “Okay. Give me his number.” Lance pulled out his phone.

  Gideon grabbed it and, with a quick, coordinated move, opened the window just enough to toss the phone out. “You can’t.”

  “That’s just cheating!” Lance laughed and stared back at the place on the freeway where his entire life had shattered to pieces. All his contacts, gone. Contacts tainted by association.

  Something very like freedom bloomed under Lance’s breastbone, fighting to emerge.

  “Two things.” Gideon held up two fingers. “One, you can’t call Voelker, because he’s the one in the trunk.”

  “He’s dead?” Lance looked at the back seat in horror.

  Gideon shrugged. “It was him or you.”

  Lance turned his eyes back toward the road. They were headed for the little San Antonio airfield where Schrader’s jet had landed. Lance’s heart pounded.

  Gideon had promised not to kill his dad. Should Lance have been more specific about not killing anyone? Then again, the death of a sex offending murderer wasn’t the worst. In principle, Lance didn’t like the idea; in practice, worse things could’ve happened.

  “Two?” Lance prompted, when Gideon’s silence dragged on.

  “We’re disappearing. No more Lance Gatsby. No more Gideon Urquhart. No phones.” Gideon gave him a long look and then made another turn, straight toward the airport.

  Oh god. The idea thrilled and frightened Lance. Amelia might be certain about Lance’s feelings for Gideon, but Lance was troubled by his lover’s ruthlessness. “Schrader letting us use his jet?”

  “Letting?” Gideon hit the gas, accelerating toward their destination.

  Great.

  “So instead of killing him, you’re going to steal his jet and his firstborn.”

  Gideon furrowed his brow and then tilted his head. “I hadn’t thought of it that way, but I guess so.” He pulled into the parking area and stopped the car. They sat there, parked, as Gideon stared Lance down. “Look, you said you wanted a life without masters. Did you change your mind?”

  “How do I know I’m not just replacing them with you?”

  Gideon looked wild eyed for a moment and then exhaled slowly. “If you don’t want me with you… I guess I can fly you to Cuba, and—”

  “Cuba? I don’t speak Spanish!”

  “I do. I thought that…”

  Lance looked around the car. If he didn’t go with Gideon where would he go? “I don’t like the idea of being dependent on anyone.”

  “I’m sorry, Lance. I don’t have a lot of options. I have people in Cuba. I have a place. It was my getaway with no extradition, my endgame if I made it that far.” He cupped Lance’s cheek, thumb brushing tenderly over Lance’s cheekbone. “It wasn’t a plan I made for two. I understand if you don’t want to go, but it’s all I have to give.”

  Fuck. Lance was a selfish prick. Then again, with his origins, what else could he have been?

  “No, I’m sorry. I’m just paranoid.”

  “I’d argue you spent much of your life not nearly paranoid enough.” Gideon gazed into Lance’s eyes, his own luminous with emotion. “I am the monster you think I am, Lance. Maybe worse. You bring out a side of me I thought was lost.”

  Lance started to open his mouth, but Gideon took a deep breath and averted his gaze, pushing onward as if every word was wrenched from his core.

  “You scare me every bit as much as I scare you, I suppose. But if I do this, I’m not trying to control you or get in your pants. I’m doing it because you were right. I don’t want to live with a master. I don’t want to be your master, either, though I guess you don’t have much proof of that.”

  Gideon bit his lip, returning his gaze to meet Lance’s. His voice was soft and certain. Hypnotic. “I want out. I want to be saved. I’m saving you, I guess, but you’re saving me, too. You’re giving me a reason to abandon this stupid quest for vengeance. It won’t change anything. I get that now. But I wouldn’t have without you.

  “I’m not asking you to come with me to Cuba to be my fucktoy or whatever arrangement you’re worried this is. I’m not trying to be some romantic hero. I selfishly want you to be there as a reminder to me that there’s a better way.”

  Overwhelmed, Lance pulled Gideon into a fierce hug. The idea that he represented some better way humbled him, ridiculous as it was. Lance had been a fool from the jump.

  Yet, Lance could look at himself in the mirror and not live haunted by people he’d murdered or tortured. While he wasn’t a perfect man, he’d tried to be a decent one. That his example had stirred something in Gideon took his breath away. “All right. Let’s go.”

  A white van pulled up next to their car. Lance tensed, but Gideon put his hand over Lance’s lap. “It’s okay. They’re with me.”

  A beautiful Hispanic man leaned out the window and spoke to Gideon in rapid Spanish. He gave Lance a brief smile and wave, and then finished what he had to say to Gideon.

  When he was done speaking, Gideon summed up for Lance, “They’re hammering out plans to get us to Cuba, making sure the jet is fueled up, all of that. We just need to get on board.”

  Lance leaned in and kissed Gideon. Maybe it was stupid, but it was also dreamy. They were running away together, somewhere just for them.

  Well, them and a half dozen Hispanic men, and nothing in particular to wear.

  There’d be clothes in Cuba, surely.

  “Do they have our passports?”

  Gideon grinned and stole another kiss before he got out of the car. “We’ll get them there.”

  “We pick out new names?” Lance took Gideon’s hand and walked into the hangar where the men bustled around the jet. One was apparently scheduling their flight out of the country, making sure everything was above board, hopefully.

  “If you like. I had a couple ideas.” Gideon led him to the stairs of their personal jet to freedom. It was all too good to be true.

  “This is amazing, Gideon. I never thought anything like this would happen.”

  Gideon sat next to Lance in one of the cushy seats up front. They both belted in and held hands. “I bought the house in the hopes that someday I’d retire, but if I’m being honest, I didn’t think I’d ever really live in it.”

  Gideon smiled dreamily as he gazed at Lance. “It’s not big, and it’s going to need so a lot of repair work. It’s more like a shack on the beach, but it has some good soil in the back yard. We could grow our own vegetables. It might be a little boring.”

  “It sounds wonderful.” Lance beamed and rested his head on Gideon’s shoulder, peering around his dad’s jet with new eyes.

  With any luck, its sale would pay for their future. Hopefully Cuba would be far enough away and Gideon and Lance could be lost in the shuffle.

  That was when he heard it.

  Silencers were an overstatement. There wasn’t a practical way to completely silence a gun; its reports just changed timbre, greatly diminished.

  Gideon tensed and pulled his gun, beginning to rise as sounds of a struggle outside reached them. The jet swayed.

  Halfway to his fee
t, Gideon dropped suddenly, arrested by a hard fist to his head. He slumped unconscious at Lance’s feet, gun still in one hand, and Lance stood to face Schrader.

  Fury shone in Schrader’s eyes, but his expression was neutral. “Son.”

  Lance didn’t have a gun, but Schrader hadn’t pulled one either. Whatever this was, it wasn’t a murder scene. Yet.

  “Dad.”

  “If you were anyone else in the world, Lance…” Schrader shook his head. His hand went to his holster, but he didn’t draw.

  “The jig is up. I told Elliot. He didn’t even care. So you can feel free to kill me now.” Lance lifted his chin, preparing to die with dignity like the men outside.

  Rather than giving Lance the bullet to the brain he expected, Schrader smirked. “You did exactly what I hoped you would, kiddo.” Schrader gave a half smile as he peered at Gideon. “A couple of surprises along the way, but the plan came together.”

  He reached into his pocket, and Lance tensed, but Schrader only pulled out a phone. “I want you to take this.”

  Lance stared at it, and then crouched to check on Gideon instead of accepting it. Was he faking? It didn’t appear anything was broken. Lance didn’t go for Gideon’s gun, just turned to his dad to stare at the phone.

  Schrader held it out, threatening to drop it. “You want to go off with your boyfriend, enjoy some fun in the sun, fine, you earned it.”

  Gideon sat up, one arm on the ground as he squinted at Schrader. Apparently, he had been faking. “What?”

  That was exactly Lance’s question; he stared at Schrader, who pushed the phone into Lance’s hand.

  “You’re just going to let us go and steal your plane?”

  “No.” Schrader snorted. “My guys will fly you. Your guys are dead, they were shit, and they were going to take the jet either way.” He held up his hand. “No need to thank me for saving your lives. I just didn’t want them to steal my jet.”

  “Of course.” Lance sighed and looked down at the phone he’d been given. “Elliot?”

  “He has to go through me to get to you, but we have enough career-killing video that we no longer need you for that.”

  Lance frowned. Elliot was terribly disappointing, but he didn’t hate him. He felt bad about not seeing him again, but he was excited to get to know Gideon better. “Then what’s it for?”

  “In case you need me.” Schrader smirked, then pulled a pair of passports for them. “Guy Underwood,” he said to Gideon, and then “Victor Scott,” to Lance.

  They took their paperwork, and Lance glared at Schrader. “What about Mom?”

  “She’s….”

  Lance took Gideon’s gun, wrapped his fingers around its grip. It was heavier than he’d thought, but he was sure he could use it. “Did you kill her?”

  “No. She’s with me. I’m helping her see the light. We were a very good team once. We will be again.” Schrader raised his brows and then started to back out of the jet. “Don’t worry about your mom, Lance. Er. Victor. She’s fine. She’ll be chief of staff for the first lady soon.”

  “Hm.” Lance didn’t think that concession would keep Schrader alive, but that wasn’t really Lance’s problem anymore.

  Using the seats as leverage, Lance rose from the floor and helped Gideon up with him. They stared at one another, the question silent until Lance gave it voice. “Do you still want to go?”

  Gideon stared at Lance long and hard, searching his face, before he nodded solemnly. “I do.”

  Schrader stepped closer. “I’m counting on you to protect my son, Gideon. If he dies, you die.”

  Gideon didn’t bother looking at Schrader, too busy gazing at Lance. He looked smitten, even to Lance’s jaded eyes. “You want to go with me?”

  “I do. I really do.” Lance pulled Gideon close. He was starting a new life with his killer angel. Finally, they were going to be free.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Gideon rode the waves of the surf.

  Lance preferred lazing on the beach in a plaid lounger. He read the books he’d always wanted to catch up on, practiced Spanish with Gideon, and sometimes Lance even listened to the radio.

  He’d grown quite fond of the different kinds of music here in their remote little part of Cuba.

  News broke on the station. While Lance couldn’t follow the nuances, he knew it was the result of the United States presidential general election. Elliot Swardson had won by a landslide.

  Because of course he did.

  The phone on the small table where his cocktail rested began to ring and buzz.

  There were no names in the phone, but Lance was pretty sure he knew who it was.

  He stared out onto the glistening white beach, taking in the turquoise glimmer of the waves. Gideon had tanned a rich brown. He smiled and waved. Out here, he was so much calmer, sweeter.

  They’d spent so much time in their cabin making love. The place wasn’t beautiful, but it was theirs.

  Elliot would want to celebrate. Suggest a visit. After a visit, he’d want Lance to consider returning, maybe becoming press secretary.

  Whatever Elliot said, what he’d really be asking was, at its heart, for Lance to come back.

  Lance didn’t know why he even kept the phone. He didn’t want to hear from anyone.

  Lance sat up, flicked his wrist, and chucked the phone into the water.

  Elliot Swardson was America’s problem now. And Schrader would be Elliot’s.

  What wanted was right here. He smiled and waded out into the water to kiss Gideon.

  The End

  Please Review

  Thanks for reading this novel, the beloved brainchild of Clancy Nacht. If it gave you a case of the feels, please review and let them know. Depeche Mode said to enjoy the silence, but honestly, the Snarky Assassins would rather hear that they made you smile, cry, or pull out your hair. Don't be shy.

  Other Titles by Clancy Nacht

  Prince Charming Wears Garters

  Still Remains

  The Night Caller

  Pride & Justice

  Strange Times

  No Tea, No Shade (Viva! 1)

  Dragged to the Altar (Viva! 2)

  For Immediate Release

  Titles by Clancy Nacht & Thursday Euclid

  Black Gold

  Black Gold 2: Double Black

  The WASPs

  I’ll Be Your Man

  Le Jazz Hot

  You’re Welcome. Love, Your Cat

  Gemini

  Celibacy NOW

  Immortal Sins

  Wyatt’s Recipes for Wooing Rock Stars

  Boyfriend Goals

  The Phisher King

  Cats & Doges

  Line in the Shadow

  About Clancy Nacht

  Clancy Nacht is a bisexual genderqueer person who lives in Austin. Clancy has published several bestselling romances. Many of her books have been honored with Rainbow Awards; Le Jazz Hot won for Best Bisexual/Transgender Romance & Erotic Romance. In 2013, Black Gold: Double Black was a runner-up for a Rainbow Award. In 2015, Gemini won an Honorable Mention for Gay Erotic Romance and in 2016, Strange Times won an Honorable Mention for Science Fiction. Wyatt’s Recipes for Wooing Rock Stars was a finalist in the highly competitive William Neale Award for Best Gay Contemporary Romance. The Phisher King won second place in the Rainbow Award for Romantic Suspense, 16th for Gay Book of the Year.