A Thief In The Night

by K. Sterling

  Quinn was different. He looked like someone who laughed. There was so little pure, honest laughter in Roman’s world. Few people had a decent sense of humor and what little humor there was, was cynical and cruel. Somehow, Quinn found joy and optimism. Even with a brother like Jayce. Quinn was slightly naive but smart enough to be scared when he should be. But he didn’t let fear get in the way of his curiosity or his dedication to his brother. The world Roman inhabited was cold and dangerous but Quinn charged into it bravely for Jayce.

  “How many times have you done this?” Roman wondered as he replaced the picture of the twins then chewed on his lip as he scanned the rest of the photos. Quinn was in most of them but there were a few of Jayce with his peers and Roman’s eyes tightened as he recognized a face in two pictures. Dash moved in similar “social” circles as Roman and was particularly popular because he was always “carrying”. He arrived at parties and clubs with enough drugs to get the room high and worked until he was out of stock then enjoyed himself. Roman couldn’t remember who he “belonged to” but Dash would have a lover who paid his bills and bought his clothes. The only jobs men like Dash and Jayce could hold down were selling drugs and selling themselves. They never made enough to support themselves so they turned to men with money and power to support them. Finding Dash and who he belonged to was a good place to start. Roman had a feeling Dash’s sugar daddy was also his dealer and may have been Jayce’s as well. He decided he was tired of Jayce and went to inspect Quinn’s bedroom. “You couldn’t be more different,” he said under his breath as he drifted around the room, cataloging details and memorizing the dimensions and layout. It was almost spartan and immaculate and Quinn took excellent care of everything he had. “You grew up without money and you’ve worked hard,” he noted. There wasn’t a television in the flat. Jayce wouldn’t be home enough or care and Quinn wouldn’t spend the money on it. A tidy stack of library books waited on the bedside table and dog-eared used and hand-me-down books were lovingly displayed on bookshelves. Roman crouched to check the spines on a shelf and snorted. Cookbooks and poetry. He’s definitely different. There was a lot of literature, mostly science fiction and historical fiction but about half of the books were cookbooks and poetry anthologies. He stood and his brows rose as he crossed the room and reached for a trophy. It was from a recent MMA tournament. “Explains why a diplomat would hire an American to mind the little ones,” he stated as he reached for a scrapbook. Roman was impressed as he flipped through articles and pictures of awards ceremonies. Quinn wasn’t in perfect shape because he was vain or shallow, he was a semi-professional athlete. “You’re very clever. You found a way to earn a decent living with it,” Roman said as he went to the bedside table. Quinn was well paid but London was cripplingly expensive and he was supporting his brother. He pulled the drawer open and lifted an older copy of Shout and his brows jumped. The magazine was obscuring a bottle of generic lube and a very respectable size vibrator. Roman’s tongue slid along his lips as he slowly turned and scanned again. He tilted as he prowled toward the closet and he sniffed slowly and deeply as he leaned in. He shut his eyes and hunted for any trace of perfume, purses, makeup, moisturizers… Roman shook his head as he switched on the light. Fabric softener, basic soap and men’s deodorant. He winced at the disappointing variety of denim and grey cotton. There were neat stacks of printed t-shirts on the shelf and some cheerful cardigans. Quinn’s wardrobe was a sad, sad, sad merging that resulted in a hipster/jock dad aesthetic that had Roman leaning back and biting his knuckle in horror. It was appallingly heterosexual and just as spartan as the rest of the room. Quinn was a few months shy of his twenty-ninth birthday but he’d yet to mature past soccer trainers and Converse. Roman’s face twisted as he turned off the light and went to check the bathroom. It was cramped but spotless and free of anything but the basics and Roman hummed thoughtfully as he went back to Quinn’s bedroom. He raised the duvet and the sheets were just a few days old and very clean. Roman picked up Quinn’s pillow and sniffed it. Just his shampoo. The bed was pushed against the wall and the other pillow was completely smooth. No one was using the other side of the bed. “An ex girlfriend?” He asked as he stared at the bedside table then shrugged. “I think I’ll check on him,” Roman decided. He couldn’t look into Jayce’s disappearance until much later in the evening, he’d spend the day getting better acquainted with Quinn.

  He found Quinn in his employer’s backyard bouncing on an in-ground trampoline with the two older children. Roman didn’t know a damn thing about children but the boy appeared to be the oldest and came to about the middle of Quinn’s thigh. An infant kicked and gurgled in delight from some sort of plastic pod seat thing as it watched them. Roman sat on the roof of the gardening shed so he could see and hear and he was once again impressed as Quinn taught them a nursery rhyme in German. The girl recited the last line back to him and giggled as she dropped onto her bottom and Quinn applauded encouragingly then landed on his butt next to her.

  “Come here,” he ordered as he scooped her up and deposited her on his lap so he could fix a pigtail that had come loose. Quinn gently worked the elastic band free and tucked it between his lips as he brushed his fingers through her hair. The little girl’s head fell to the side obediently and her face scrunched in concentration as she tried to fit her foot in the pant leg of Quinn’s jeans as he worked.

  “I’m sleepy, Quinn. Can we go in now?” She pouted drowsily and he hummed as he tugged the pigtail gently then kissed the top of her head.

  “Yup. It’s time for Cassie to go down too,” he said then pointed at the little boy as he jumped energetically. “Fifteen more minutes, Jack,” he stated firmly and the little boy nodded but continued his attempt to propel himself into orbit. “I’m going to take a minute of game time every time I have to call for you,” he warned and Jack sighed wearily.

  “I know!” He insisted and Quinn and the little girl exchanged eye rolls.

  “Let’s go, Annabel,” Quinn said then set her away from him so he could roll off the trampoline and onto the grass as it sprang relentlessly beneath them. The girl laughed as she rolled after him and they gathered the infant then Quinn bundled them up the lawn and into the house. Roman slipped into the house through the baby’s room and listened as Quinn served the kids lunch then put them down for a nap. He hovered as Quinn did their laundry and dressed two chickens for dinner while the kids slept. Quinn relaxed at the kitchen table with a book and an apple until the kids woke up then loaded the baby into a stroller. Roman followed them to the market for an assortment of vegetables and a loaf of French bread to accompany the chickens, presumably. Quinn parked the stroller under the shade at the park and reclined to watch the older kids play. Roman silently slid onto the other end of the bench as Quinn leaned into the stroller to fix the baby’s shoe.

  “You’re quite good at this,” he observed casually as he glanced off, toward the bridge.

  “Jesus, Roman!” Quinn whisper screamed as he jumped then swatted at him. “I can’t be seen with you,” he added as he looked around and Roman hummed in agreement.

  “Relax and pretend you don’t know I’m here. Just watch the kids,” he said as he pulled off his sunglasses and used the reflection in the lenses to check behind them. He put them on then extended his arm along the back of the seat as he watched people boarding a bus.

  “What are you doing here?” Quinn asked nervously.

  “I was just passing by and thought I’d say hello. Come here often?” Roman asked nonchalantly and Quinn snorted softly.

  “You were not.”

  “No. What have you been up to?” Roman asked breezily and his lips twitched as he fought to keep them straight. He promised to look into Jayce’s disappearance but he sensed Quinn was a bit skeptical. “You never know what little tidbit of information could come in handy,” he said and Quinn’s head cocked but he continued to watch the playground.

  “How does following me help you find out what happened to Jayce?
” He asked. Roman waved a hand airily and shut his eyes so he could focus on the push of the air against his fingertips.

  “All of your brother’s habits are formed by his dependance on you,” he explained gently. “You were his only lifeline and his only link to the real world. You’re very perceptive and I know there’s a park closer to your employer’s address but you’ve changed your routine so you could sit on this bench at least once a day. You know if anything interesting’s happened on this street in the last several months because you’ve made friends with the other nurses, deliverymen and dog walkers,” he said and Quinn became tense as he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees.

  “How do you know?” He asked and Roman laughed softly as he pushed back his sleeve and checked his watch.

  “Have you always enjoyed cooking?” Roman said.

  “Not really. I kind of had to when we were kids. I lied on my resume and said I was trained so I had to get good at it,” Quinn said and Roman nodded knowingly.

  “You’re incredibly bright and resourceful. You’ll do whatever it takes and fake it until you’ve mastered whatever’s necessary,” he said. Quinn could pretend to be a chef and pretend to calmly watch the kids as he performed surveillance hours after he pretended to be an escort at a raucous sex party. “You were willing to dress like a party favor and tempt me. You’ve done this your whole life. How far were you willing to go for him last night?” Roman asked and Quinn squinted at the swings then shrugged.

  “I know how to handle myself and I’m not afraid of…that. If it happened,” he said tightly and Roman’s eyes flared behind his sunglasses. Not the ex’s vibrator, he realized.

  “Good Lord,” he creaked and his grip tightened around the back of the bench as he cleared his throat.

  “What?” Quinn asked and he became alert as the boy tripped. They watched until he pushed himself off the ground and got back to his feet then dashed after his sister.

  “Nothing,” Roman replied weakly then groaned and shifted as he crossed his legs. “You’ve exhausted every option you can through the police and around here. I’ll check with a few of my acquaintances tonight and let you know if I discover something useful,” he said and Quinn nodded then sighed as the girl pushed the boy off a fake log.

  “Thank you so much, Roman,” he said but he was distracted as he stood. “I need to get them home before this gets out of hand. Are you planning to follow us?” He asked as he bent forward to fix the baby’s jumper and Roman stifled another groan as his eyes went to Quinn’s ass. It was perfectly round and taut and Roman’s collar became tight as he thought about the vibrator in Quinn’s bedside table.

  “Go ahead,” he squeaked as he shook his head. He would catch up to Quinn once he was less likely to scare people. He swallowed hard and offered Quinn a strained smile as he looked back at him in confusion. “I think I’ll stay here for a while.”

  Chapter 3

  “He doesn’t waste any time,” Quinn muttered as he ducked behind the hedge across from the house in Belgravia. Roman strolled past him casually then stepped off the curb and waited for a car to pass. He ran then waved as his name was called before jogging up the steps. Quinn looked behind him and frowned. He could see Roman talking to a gentleman at the door but he still felt like someone was behind him. He shrugged it off then waited until Roman was distracted to crouch and jog along the limos waiting to deliver guests. Roman was pulled into an embrace and Quinn ran to the side of the house then snuck around so he could hide behind a column and listen. He had a change of clothes in the garage but he wanted to make sure Roman was staying to sneak in.

  “I’m looking for a mad Scotsman,” Roman said as another man in a tuxedo smoked a cigar.

  “He’s not in Town, hasn’t been for some time,” he said and Roman made a thoughtful sound.

  “I was hoping he’d be here. I should have checked first but I’ll catch up with him later,” Roman said as he turned and Quinn jumped over the rail and ducked behind the roses before he could see him.

  “I’ll tell him you were looking for him, if I see him around,” the gentleman said and Quinn heard Roman chuckle as they exchanged another quick embrace.

  “I appreciate that. Take good care of yourself,” he said then skipped down the steps and Quinn ducked as Roman turned and headed down the sidewalk.

  Quinn waited until Roman pulled his phone from his pocket and checked it to jump out and follow him. He flipped up the hood of his sweatshirt and tightened the cords then pushed his hands into the front pockets. Quinn kept his eyes focused on Roman as he slipped into the current of Saturday night wanderers. Roman stayed in the shadows as he wove his way through couples and crowds. He moved like smoke, silently drifting between bodies gracefully and effortlessly. His hands swung casually at his sides and he’d sway to the left or the right as he sailed around the reveling and disorderly.

  They turned away from the brighter, trendier streets and into the Underground. Quinn stayed with Roman as he boarded a train then got off with him close to Stockwell. He grew concerned as the streets became darker and closer and Roman calmly strode through an underpass and out onto the street. He ignored the prostitutes who called to him and the vagrants arguing in front of closed-up store fronts and hurried into a tall, narrow alley without hesitating. Quinn stopped and debated for a moment. It was almost pitch black and a siren wailed in the distance. He swore under his breath then ran after Roman.

  The air was colder and heavier as the shadows swallowed Quinn. He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets and tightened his fists so they’d shake less as he thought about anything but turning back. There was a blur of light as he carefully jogged around broken shopping trolleys and twisted pieces of metal. The light grew stronger and Quinn could make out Roman’s back as they reached the end of the alley. He jumped behind a dumpster as Roman spun to dodge a gang of teenagers on skateboards. They laughed and a few cheered Roman’s name and he waved at them then continued on.

  Roman skipped over train tracks and glided smoothly over the rough gravel, past burned out, graffiti covered train cars. Fires burned in barrels and Quinn avoided the hostile, assessing glances of the men and women warming themselves as they guarded their domain. Roman nodded and waved as his name was called then hopped down a set of steps and turned onto a sidewalk then under a bridge. Quinn skirted the wall, hanging back, in the shadows as Roman paused under a street light. He extended his arm then held up his wrist so he could check his watch under the light. The hair on the back of Quinn’s neck stood and his pulse raced as Roman’s hand rose until it was next to his ear. He snapped his fingers and Quinn yelled but it was muffled as a hand clamped tight over his mouth and his arms were locked at his sides as he was lifted. Roman turned on his heel and shoved his hands into his pockets and whistled softly as he strolled toward Quinn. He tried to twist and kick but a massive arm was wrapped tight around him and he couldn’t turn his head. He couldn’t pull in enough air and he became dizzy as he grunted and moaned loudly.

  “Someone is feeling incredibly brave tonight, Mr. Bishop,” Roman said and kicked a bottle idly.

  “It does seem so, sir,” Mr. Bishop rumbled deeply and it became harder for Quinn to see and hear as his ribs and lungs were crushed. His feet kicked and the heels of his sneakers beat uselessly against the tree’s shins.

  “Should we teach him a lesson?” Roman mused as he danced closer and ducked so he could see Quinn’s face. “I have a feeling you’re going to be trouble,” he sighed then flailed his hand in exasperation. “Release him,” he said and Quinn coughed and gasped as he was dropped. His feet missed and he swore as his hip hit the cobblestones. He was hauled to his feet and he swung around as he scrambled away from the behemoth behind him. He was huge. His chest was wide and round and Quinn’s head tipped back, back, back as he tried to find his face. His head was square and what little neck he had was swallowed in a black turtleneck. It was stretched around his girth and his forearms were as
thick as hams. Quinn knew how to handle himself in a ring but he was ready to piss his pants as he stared in terrified awe. “This is Quinn Waverly, Mr. Bishop. We’re looking for his brother,” Roman explained. “Quinn, this is Mr. Bishop,” he said and Quinn managed to raise his hand and wave as he blinked up at Mr. Bishop.

  “Hi,” he rasped then pulled his gaze away and looked at Roman. He looked displeased. His eyes were hard and a muscle twitched in his jaw as he waited for Quinn to explain himself. “I didn’t know what else to do but I knew there was another house party. I was about to sneak in but you came right back out. So, I followed you,” he said and Roman’s tongue slid across his teeth as he nodded slowly.

  “I see. We agreed you’d let me look into this,” he said and Quinn shrugged.

  “Right. You’re looking into this too,” he stated and Roman shook his head as he pointed.

  “No. I’m looking into this and you’re staying out of it. You should be back in your cozy little flat reading recipes,” he hissed as he looked around. “You shouldn’t be here, Quinn,” he said quietly.

  “I don’t remember agreeing to that,” Quinn said and Roman’s lips pulled in as his eyes hardened. He wasn’t used to being defied or told no.

  “I’m going to be late. You stay close and be as invisible as possible,” he ordered and Quinn nodded.

  “I can do that,” he insisted and Roman snorted.