Dying Assassin

by Joyee Flynn

  "Please to meet you, sir," Ryder said as he extended his hand. Manny pushed it aside and pulled Ryder into a hug.

  "You can forget that sir crap, young man." Manny chuckled as they pulled apart. "Spencer is like family to me."

  "Manny was my father's tailor before he died," I explained to Ryder who was glancing between the two of us. "One of my first memories was coming with my dad to get a suit from Manny. I've never gotten a suit from anyone else, I only trust him."

  "Always a good boy," Manny chuckled and pinched my cheek. He got away with that kind of stuff since he was older. I knew Manny's wife had wanted him to retire years ago, but he insisted that if he was able, he'd work. Plus, for Manny, it wasn't just a job, but a hobby as well. "Now, let's see if I've not lost my touch with the suits I picked out for your young man."

  "Hell would freeze over before you picked out or made anything that wasn't perfect, Manny." I chuckled as we followed him to the back of his store. Sure enough, the navy blue suit was a perfect fit for Ryder. I could tell he seemed a little uncomfortable in it, but it looked fantastic on him.

  It took us about a half an hour to check out that suit and the backup one Manny had made. He got upset when I tried to buy them both, but I assured him that Ryder didn't have any suits and might need another one. And given his line of work was a service-oriented industry, his credit card slips had room for a tip. I made sure to give him a large one and not hand over the slip until we were walking out the door.

  Manny's eyes weren't the best anymore when it came to reading little numbers on a credit card slip, so I knew we'd make it out before he tried to yell at me. He'd more than earned it, but he was a proud man, as were most from his generation. But custom made suits weren't as in demand as they used to be. It used to be that professionals and high-powered executives wouldn't wear anything but those types of suits. Now with wholesale stores and off-the-rack shopping, people just seemed to make due with a close fit.

  It might be the only area of my life where I was a snob, but it was more than that to me. My father had been friends with Manny, and after my parents died, Manny and his wife had been very good to me. Part of me had always wished that my parents had thought to leave them as my guardians if something ever happened to them. But over the years, as I got older, I realized that they had planned in case something tragic happened and one of them died. Not both of them together.

  "You okay, Spencer?" Ryder asked me as we were in another cab on our way to the board meeting. "You seem lost."

  "Just thinking about the past," I replied with a sigh. "It took me a long time to come to terms with how I was raised after my parents died. I'd always wished I could go stay with Manny and his wife when I was a kid."

  "He truly seemed to love you like family," Ryder said gently, taking my hand. "I know it didn't turn out the way you wanted, but it has to help that he would have wanted to take you in."

  "Yeah, it does, baby." I smiled, touched at how Ryder could see the good in the situation and bring it to my attention. I lifted his hand to my lips and placed a kiss on it. The cab pulled to the curb then in front of the main headquarters of Fallon Industries, and I felt my stomach plummet to the floor. This wasn't only about keeping my family safe, I was about to revisit the building for the first time since I turned twenty-one inherited the company.

  CHAPTER 9

  I walked into that conference room with my shoulders squared and my head held high, aware that everyone could see our every move. Glass walls occupied all four sides, so anyone walking past the room would have full view of the proceedings from the hallway. Ryder walked at my side, though we'd decided holding hands wasn't appropriate given the circumstances. I took my seat at the head of the table, knowing it was always empty at board meeting since I never attended. Ryder sat down on my right as everyone else got settled in as well.

  "I appreciate everyone coming here today, especially since there wasn't much notice given," I started out when everyone got quiet. "But given the circumstances, I didn't feel right sitting on this information. Hopefully everyone has had a chance to review the documents I sent out, including the police report from the attempted bombing of my person and the sworn affidavit taken by the police from Ethan Beckham.

  "While I agree that some of the evidence is circumstantial and I do not feel it is in the best interest for Fallon Industries to prosecute, I'm here to call a vote for the removal of Greg Payton as CEO. I regret having made the mistake of giving this much power to one man, and hopefully I can rectify that with your help," I finished, looking around the room. My eyes landed on Greg, whose face was beyond red with anger, at the other end of the table. He hadn't aged well, looking much older than his mid-forties.

  "This is why I was called in here today? Accusations of horrible crimes that can only be corroborated by a dying man who's so sick he's probably out of his mind ," Greg spat out, staring daggers at me.

  "I've also submitted a sworn statement by a local doctor that Ethan is in full control of all his mental capacities," I replied, gesturing to the folders everyone had. "I open the floor to any questions or rebuttals."

  "You can't come waltzing in here after fourteen years of being absent and do this, Spencer," Greg stated, getting a few nods from other board members.

  "Actually I can, Greg," I said calmly. "Any board member at any time can call an emergency board meeting if their request is seconded. Mine was, and as majority shareholder, I didn't even have to go through that."

  "That may be true, Mr. Fallon," one member replied, staring at me. I recognized him as one of the men who was there that day on my twenty-first birthday; the day they convinced me that Fallon Industries would never survive having a gay man run the company. "But you hold one third of all the shares, and the rest of ours total add up to more than that."

  "That's assuming none of you agree with my wanting Greg removed," I said carefully, not wanting to reveal my ace in the hole just yet.

  "Fallon Industries would go down the drain without me, Spencer. And the board knows that," Greg replied with a grin on his face.

  "Even if that were true, which I'm not sure I believe, you think none of them will think your attempts on my life outweigh that? Does this board really want someone who would do that in the position of CEO?" I asked, looking around the table. I saw a few meet my gaze, while others looked away and seemed nervous. It seemed some of them didn't care about who Greg was, as long as their profits increased.

  "I do care if this is the truth, Mr. Fallon," a man said, and I saw his name plate said Raymond Galbit. I'd met his father that fateful day, but never Raymond. "But it is odd after all these years that now Mr. Payton would try to have you killed. I understand you made the changes to your will, but it also seems that you could have had a change of heart about your decision to give up control of the company all those years ago. I've never even met you before, and this all seems precarious to me."

  "What did your father tell you about that day I signed the papers to take the company public, Raymond?" I asked, nodding my head in acknowledgement of his concerns.

  "That you were a kid who saw a chance to make a lot of money and took it," he answered, looking confused.

  "That's what he told you?" James Turtle asked before I even could. I also remembered him from fourteen years ago. James had been the only one trying to convince me not to sign the papers, saying that my father would have kicked the board's collective ass for what they were doing to me. "I was there that day, son. That is not even close to what happened. And either way, it has no bearing on the evidence Spencer has brought before us. This vote is about whether we believe the documents in front of us about Greg or not. I for one believe every damn word."

  "Thank you, James," I said, smiling at the older man. "You always were an honest man; I knew you would do what is right."

  "Even so, the two of you don't have enough control of the votes to throw me out." Greg sneered, pushing my patience.

  "Raymond, what happened that day was tha
t the board in place convinced a young boy that Fallon Industries would never survive having a gay owner," I explained, deciding to address one issue at the time. "At twenty-one I was handed an empire, and while I wasn't the right person to run it at the time, I never thought the person I chose would try to kill me later. I didn't have any intention of changing the current structure; I wanted only to make provisions for those I love in the event of my death."

  "Yes, and how many men do you sleep with, Spencer?" Greg asked, turning his lip up.

  "None of your fucking business you asshole!" Ryder yelled as he jumped out of his chair. I grabbed his arm in time to stop him, smiling as he glanced at me. "Sorry, Spence, but he did bomb our house after all."

  "I know, Ryder." I snickered as he took his seat again.

  "Ah yes, Ryder Jenkins, the whore you took off the street and kept like a pet," Greg said sweetly, his words dripping with sarcasm. I saw Ryder shrink into himself and turn bright red.

  "You'd do better to stick with me, Greg," I growled at him, bunching my hands into fists. "I answered Raymond's concerns because they were valid and the current board members have a right to know what was done to me. But I came in here as an adult and a business man. All you're doing is proving my case even further. Who is in my bed, or whom I love has nothing to do with the fact you tried to kill me."

  "I did—" he started to say, but I cut him off.

  "Enough!" I said loudly, staring him down as if daring him to talk over me. "This is a formality; I own fifty-one percent of the shares of Fallon Industries. I have for years, Greg. I might have been young when I let the company go public, but I've learned a lot since then."

  Greg gasped. "There's no way you own that much of the company. I handle all your quarterly reports and know exactly the amount of shares you own."

  "You do with the money from my trust fund and what I was given in the original deal," I replied, leaning back in my seat and smiling widely. "I've grown up since then, Greg. Hell, I have an MBA from Yale and by thirty-five made enough money of my own to live comfortably for the rest of my life. I bought up the additional seventeen percent of the shares on my own over the years.

  "I tried to come in here and appeal to the board's sense of justice and morality. I tried playing by the rules, but fuck it. My vote is enough to get you out, so get your goddamn shit, Greg, and pray I never file criminal charges against you. You have twenty minutes before security escorts you out; they've already been told. Your desk is being packed up as we speak."

  "I vote with you as well, Spencer," James said, giving me a wink.

  "As do I," Raymond added. Several other members gave their vote, but I took note of the two who refrained and looked pissed at the turn of events.

  "It's all because of that fucking whore!" Greg screamed, pointing at Ryder as he stood. "As soon as he came into the fucking picture, you started having ideas of grandeur about this being your company!"

  "I may have been a whore, but I'm smart enough to know it's not your fucking name on the building, Greg." Ryder sneered, sticking up for himself in a way I'd never seen before. It shocked me enough that I didn't even get a word out in response to Greg. "You tried to blow up Spencer, and for what, money? I mean really, which of us does that make a whore? I took money for sex because I was thrown out of my house at sixteen. What's your excuse for your lack of morals?"

  As I stared at Ryder in shock, I saw James buzz security out of the corner of my eye. Greg marched over towards Ryder, and while I knew he could take care of himself, I wasn't about to allow Ryder to get into it with this asshole because I put him in the situation.

  "Touch him and your job won't be the only thing you're losing today, Greg," I said as I jumped up and grabbed him by the throat when he lunged for Ryder. "Coming after me is one thing, but if you try to hurt my family, I will end you."

  "Spencer, let him go," Ryder begged, pulling on my arm. "He's starting to turn blue, Spence."

  Seeing Ryder was right, I released Greg. Security came rushing in just then and dragged a coughing Greg away. Not caring anymore about everyone else in the room, I pulled Ryder into my arms.

  "I'm so proud of you for standing up for yourself like that, baby," I whispered against his temple as I held him tight. "You're finally starting to see in yourself the man I love."

  "There's a lot in my past I have issues with, but I was put in that position. Greg chose to do all this on his own, and I'm not letting an asshole like that try to tell me that I'm the worse person in the room." Ryder giggled hugging me back. "Can we go home now?"

  "Not just yet, son," James said, stepping up towards us. "We've got a few things to straighten out, like choosing the rightful man to run this company as his father would have wanted."

  "I don't think he would have disagreed with the board, James," I replied quietly, voicing one of my deepest fears in life. I think that's why I ended up letting the company go public; because in my head, I'd convinced myself that my father would never have wanted his gay son to take over his empire.

  "Don't ever say that, much less think it," James said firmly, cracking me upside the head. "Your daddy was no bigot, Spencer, and he loved you more than anything in this world. He wouldn't have cared if you ended up blue and wanted a horse for your wife. This is where you belong and the board back then tricked you into believing something that wasn't true so they could make a lot of money."

  "How am I going to run Fallon Industries from South Dakota, James? I think it's better to come up with another alternative."

  "Nonsense." James chuckled, leading us out of the conference room. "It's amazing the things you can do these days with those darn computers. You have email and your phone and the video conferencing thing my grandkids keep trying to get me to try. We'll make it work, Spencer. Besides, you are the boss; you can make your own hours."

  "And maybe hire several assistants here in New York so you're not constantly working," Ryder added as we walking into Greg's old office. "Because I know a few men who will be pissed if you're working all the time, me included."

  "Well, we can't have you upset, baby." I chuckled, taking his hand. "You're the one who feeds me."

  CHAPTER 10

  Ryder and I ended up spending the rest of the day with James and Greg's assistant to devise a way to break up Greg's previous role. It seemed it was way more hands-on than most CEO's, not allowing the VPs and supporting staff to do the jobs they were meant to do. Also, he never named a president for each of Fallon Industries subsidiaries, keeping himself as the head of each company.

  When we had outlined a new hierarchy structure, Greg's assistant helped us get the pool of candidates from people currently employed with Fallon Industries. At first I wasn't sure what to do with his old assistant, but when I saw her laughing and giving Greg the bird as security dragged him away, I knew she was on our side.

  We ordered in lunch and deciphered most of Greg's business plans and current projects. It seemed he encrypted his files and password protected everything. But a phone call to the IT department handled that hurdle. It was around dinner time when we were finally ready to head back home.

  Ryder and I were so bushed we slept the whole plane ride. We landed back in Rapid City and drove home. I'm not sure I was ever so glad to be home as when we pulled in our driveway sometime before eleven. I grabbed the bags while Ryder took care of our garment bags. It seemed my baby was excited about having his first suit after all, taking every precaution it wasn't ruined on the trip.

  "I'm so glad you're home," Luc said as we walked through the front door.

  "How's Ethan doing?" I asked after giving him a quick kiss.

  "I think we're through the worst of it." He sighed, grabbing one of the bags from me. "It got pretty bad this morning. But he's not been sick for the past couple of hours. So we've been working on rehydrating him and getting some food in his stomach."

  "You guys get everything handled?" Dean asked as we entered our bedroom.

  "Oh yeah, Spencer showed th
at asshole who's boss." Ryder giggled, walking over to the closet to hang everything up. "It ended up we had more friends on the board than we'd thought. Spencer's back as CEO, and we worked on reorganizing the structure of Fallon Industries so he can do everything from home."

  "I'm really glad to hear that," Dean replied, taking a washcloth off Ethan's forehead and tossing it towards the laundry hamper.

  "So it's all over?" Ethan asked weakly, breaking my heart that he was in pain. "He won't come after my family?"

  "No, Ethan, he won't," I answered gently as I climbed into bed next to him. "He's gone, and knows if he pulls anything else, I'll have him arrested."

  "Thank you, Spencer, for everything," Ethan whispered as his eyes drooped shut. "I'm sorry, I'm just so tired."

  "No problem, sweetheart. It's late, we should all get to bed," I said, stifling a yawn. I got back off the bed to undress, smiling as Ryder, Luc, and Dean did the same. We got ready for bed and were all out like lights ten minutes later.

  A creek in the floorboards woke me sometime later. When I heard a sixth heartbeat farther away than the bed, I knew someone was in the house. I moved my hand over Ryder's mouth, making the signal for him to stay quiet. He woke with a start, but nodded when he saw what I was doing. I pointed to my ear, telling him to listen. Ryder had the sharpest hearing of all of us, even for a werewolf.

  He held up one finger than walked his fingers up an imaginary staircase. I gave him a quick nod and crawled out of bed as quietly as I could. Letting the change flow over me, I made my way to the bedroom door. When I heard another creak, I pressed my back against the bedroom wall and crept closer.

  The first thing that crossed the door frame was a silencer on a gun. As soon as I saw that, I acted. Lightning fast, I hit the man's shooting hand upward as he entered the room. He shouted, and the gun went off, the bullet going safely into the ceiling. Without thinking, I held onto the gun and sank my razor sharp teeth into the man's neck.