by Loki Renard
“I see,” Angelo smiled. “That’s how you’re going to play it. Very well. Enjoy your gloating session, Detective Colt, you’ve earned it.”
“I don’t need your permission to gloat,” Damien said, his eyes narrowing.
“Of course not,” Angelo smiled with the utmost condescension. “But I have to say, it is adorable. You’re so proud of yourself, aren’t you. Good for you, Detective. I hope they give you a shiny gold star to put on your wall chart.”
Damien let out a growl and strode away, giving Angelo some peace. The moment Damien was gone, the refined and genteel expression fell from Angelo’s face to be replaced with one of cold, hard fury.
9
“Shit, Angelo, are you okay?”
Bobby hugged Angelo as hard as it was possible to be hugged. For a second, Angelo couldn’t breathe. Bobby’s relief was palpable, and given that usually Bobby showed his affection in small acts of violence, it was sweet.
As predicted, Angelo had been bailed out of jail within hours. Bobby too. There was just one Vitali missing.
“They’ve got Mark,” Bobby said, clearly not knowing that Angelo already knew.
“I would have thought you’d be pleased. He’s been making your life difficult since he arrived.”
“I don’t want the pigs to have him,” Bobby growled. “They’ve sent him out of state. They’re hiding him in a Federal Prison. He’s going to fucking die in there if we can’t get him out.”
Unfortunately, getting Mark out was going to be basically impossible. There was no defense to his charges. Angelo himself had ensured that Mark would go away for a very long time if he were ever to end up in custody.
“We can’t let them win,” Bobby growled. “We have to get him back.”
“There’s little we can do directly against the NYPD, or the FBI,” Angelo said. “Mark may have to serve his sentence.”
“What?” Bobby blinked. “We’re going to let them take him?”
“I have contacts inside. I’ll make sure he’s comfortable in there. As comfortable as anyone can be. And maybe, in a year or two, we’ll be able to lodge an appeal and get him out.”
“But, Angelo… he’s one of us. We can’t let them keep him.”
“What would you have me do, boy? Stage a prison break? This is the real world. We have two choices. We move on with our lives, or we throw them away in a futile attempt to rescue someone who can’t be rescued.”
“He’s not just someone though, he’s…” Bobby shut his mouth.
Angelo knew what Bobby was thinking. He was shocked that they weren’t going to try to break Mark out by legal means or illegal ones. He was probably thinking up a hundred different plans, all equally ridiculous. Some battles couldn’t be won, and others weren’t worth winning.
It was a pity to have to say goodbye to Mark this way, but that was what life had in store for the young man.
“What if it was me inside?” Bobby got the courage to form the question. “Would you leave me there too?”
Angelo ruffled Bobby’s hair. “You’re not going to jail, my boy, nor am I. Mark was fun for a while, but now it’s just the two of us again. All my attention just for you.”
Bobby’s smile was not as bright as Angelo would have liked it to be, but he wasn’t worried. Bobby would forget about Mark soon enough. And if he didn’t, they’d find a new and more distracting toy to amuse themselves with.
“I know what will cheer you up,” Angelo said, running his fingers through Bobby’s dark locks. “How about a little old-fashioned revenge?”
10
“So you got me,” Mark said.
“I got you,” Damien confirmed.
They looked at one another, hard blue gazes meeting across the concrete walled room. This was the culmination of months of plotting and planning, Mark knew that. The whole time he’d been with Angelo, this man must have been hunting him down. Now he was caught. No way out. No time off for good behavior.
Eight years earlier…
“What are you doing, private?”
“Sir, cleaning my boots as ordered, sir!”
Twenty-two year old Mark’s military muscular body was naked from the waist up. He’d kept his shirt off on purpose as he sat on his bed and worked a polish rag over his boots, the tops of his shoulders and the back of his neck were bright red from sunburn and it felt butter not to have fabric rubbing against those patches. There was also the fact that there was someone he wanted to impress - and that someone had just come striding in, cocky as hell, his hair damp and curling from a recent shower.
Mark looked up from his boots and smiled into those stunning blue green eyes as he answered the man he wanted most in the world - Sergeant Colt. The young sergeant made Mark’s heart hammer every time he laid eyes on him. He wasn’t just hot. There were hot guys all over the military. He had a certain something about him, a streak of dominance Mark responded to instinctively, even though he didn’t really understand it now
In a dustbowl like Afghanistan, showers were a luxury, and between Mark and Damien, something of a signal too.
“I’ll see you in the assigned area, private.”
“Sir,” Mark grinned.
“It’s time you attended my privates,” Damien grinned, folding his arms and glancing down toward his crotch.
Damien pushed Mark’s head down and Mark took that thick uncut cock into his mouth. Fuck, this was hot. Because they’d both be in trouble if they were caught. Don’t ask, don’t tell was very much in effect, and homosexual conduct was grounds for dishonorable discharge. Neither of them wanted that, but they wanted this more.
Even if they couldn’t really talk outside their rushed rendezvous, even if they barely knew one another besides the lust that drove them to these temporarily quiet places, this meant something. For Mark, it was all that got him through the long, hot, sandy days.
WWWWWWWWWWWWEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOO….
The sound of an incoming missile was familiar. The rebels shot missiles at their base all day long. Usually they fell well short. This one didn’t. This one breached the perimeter and landed close enough for the blast to catch Damien and Mark in the outer wave of its shock. Being on his knees already saved Mark from the brunt of the shock and the debris, shattered glass from a nearby window skimming through the air like a thousand tiny sharp knives. Damien took the brunt of the hit and was thrown several feet like a rag doll, coming to a halt against the tire of an LAV.
Mark’s ears rang as he scrambled up and ran to Damien. His lover was unconscious and bleeding from a gut wound. Blood was seeping through the shredded remains of his uniform as Mark tried to both put pressure on the wound and pull Damien’s fatigues back up enough that it wouldn’t look suspicious.
He’d remember that moment for the rest of his life, how he tried to save Damien from the shame of being gay before he even tried to save his life.
The base had been mobilized immediately, and fortunately casualties were very limited. The missile had landed in an unpopulated area and the only people really effected were Mark and Damien.
As soldiers swarmed them like ants, Mark was pulled away from Damien.
“No! Let me stay with him!”
“He’s been med-evac’d” someone said. “Settle down, you’re wounded too.”
“No I’m not!”
“You’re missing a piece of your leg.”
Shit. He hadn’t noticed. A shard of debris had sliced away part of his thigh, shaved him like he was a ham.
By the time he was done being treated, Sergeant Colt was nothing more than a dream. There was no way to get medical information on him without arousing suspicion, or so Mark thought. So he’d stayed quiet and he’d counted himself lucky and he’d let the man fade from his life and his memory.
Until now.
“I didn’t think I was going to be able to find you,” Damien said with a crooked smile. “He hid you really well.”
“Yeah,” Mark said, his voice catching in his throat. �
��He did.”
Damien closed the distance between them, his aquamarine gaze softening as he reached out and clasped Mark on the shoulder, his strong hand clenching Mark’s shoulder.
“I missed you.”
Mark’s hard expression began to crack, first with the quivering of his lower lip, then with a tear he couldn’t stop from coming to his eye.
“I missed you too, man,” he breathed. “I can’t believe it’s you who got me. When I saw you in Angelo’s basement… I thought… I don’t even know what I thought. It was like seeing a ghost.”
“I came for you,” Damien, said, coming forward. He wrapped his arms around Mark in their first hug. Back on the base they’d never hugged. Not like this, anyway, not with deep relief and true affection, not with all their longing.
“Why? How did you even?” Mark had so many questions, and he couldn’t even manage to formulate one.
“You saved my life and I never even thanked you,” Damien said. “I’m sort of in law enforcement now. Unofficial capacity. It’s complicated. Lots of acronyms, but anyway, when your name hit our list… hell. I had to do something.”
“My name hit your list?”
“You were most wanted, a rogue federal agent. We’re contracted to clean up messes like that.”
“Clean up?” That word didn’t have any positive connotations in Mark’s mind. Had he been on a fucking shadow government hit list?
Damien gave a little shrug. “It’s not important. What is important is this: I’ve managed to cut a deal for you. You give the police what they need, we’ll make sure you walk free.”
It sounded too good to be true, but Mark trusted Damien with the instinctive bond lovers share even after long periods apart - and with the desperation which a man with no other friends in the world has when thrown a lifeline.
“What do they need?”
“Everything on Angelo.”
“Ah,” Mark nodded. Of course. What else would they need. Everything was always about Angelo. He was the center of the universe.
“You’ve been fucking Angelo for a year,” Damien said cocking his head to the side to give Mark a probing look. “Are they right? Did you really flip?”
“I don’t know,” Mark said. “I mean… you have to believe your own lies to survive, and at a certain point, it doesn’t even matter what’s real anymore. The only thing that is real is what has to happen and what you have to do. I’ve done a lot, Damien. I might have done too much. I didn’t think anyone was coming. I didn’t think I’d ever be free of him or that place. I thought I’d spend the rest of my life hiding out from the world.”
“That’s because he’s a fucking monster,” Damien said, wrapping his arms around Mark’s shoulders, holding him close. “I’m sorry it took me so long, I really am. And I’m sorry this isn’t over. You’re still not out of the woods. They’re going to grill you for a good long time. You’re going to have to tell the investigators everything. Absolutely everything. They’ll need to know where the bodies are buried. Can you do that?”
“Yeah,” Mark nodded, pulling himself together. Finally he had an ally, someone he could trust. More importantly, someone who believed him. “I can do that.”
11
Three months later…
Mark and Damien were spending a lazy Friday morning in bed, wrapped in each other’s arms, the television was playing in the background. After a lot of long, challenging weeks, things were finally starting to settle down, and Mark was starting to remember what normal was like.
Normal was not worrying about being tied up and plugged with an electric dildo for displeasing Angelo. Normal was not being disciplined at all. Normal was talking through your problems instead of beating one another’s ass to establish a pecking order. Normal was… boring, though Mark would never have admitted that to himself, much less to Damien who had asked him to move in with him shortly after securing Mark’s release in return for his testimony against Angelo Vitali.
With nowhere else to go, Mark had readily agreed and they’d fallen into a new version of their old affair, their passion for one another finally unleashed in the open. Whatever Damien did, he was keeping it quiet. Sometimes he’d disappear for a few days, but he always came back horny as hell and ready to renew their affections.
As for what he’d had to say and do to get out of jail, betraying the man he loved was not easy for Mark. His attachment to Angelo ran deep. Deeper than Damien could really understand, but he’d had no choice. If it was a matter of spending the rest of his life in solitary confinement or sending Angelo down, self-preservation had to win.
A sleek looking blonde read the news as they dozed together, limbs entwined in muscular yet tender embrace.
Angelo Vitali was sentenced to life in prison today for his involvement in over a hundred different criminal cases. The judge called his offenses vicious, calculated and subversive when handing down the ruling which will see the Manhattan businessman serving five consecutive life sentences.
Mark didn’t move as he heard the news. He stayed still, a slight misting in his eyes quickly blinked away. Damien would expect him to celebrate this news. Everything was supposed to be better now that Angelo was going to be behind bars, but Mark wasn’t as happy as he should have been. For one, Bobby was missing. He’d been released early in the process and just fucking disappeared. Mark was worried about him. Bobby was young, and he needed guidance in order for his worst impulses not to take over.
Life after Angelo was strange. It was better in so many ways. Mark loved Damien deeply. The guy was his soulmate, the one who had never forgotten about him - the one man who had been prepared to go to the ends of the earth to drag his ass from the devil’s den - but there was something missing with Damien. Mark didn’t like to think about it too much. He preferred to remind himself that he was happy, and he was free, and he no longer had to worry about being thrown in prison for the rest of his life. Maybe one day, that would be enough.
“It’s over,” Damien murmured against the back of Mark’s neck. “I told you it would be.
“It’s really not.”
It wasn’t Mark who responded. Both men startled in bed, jumping under the sheets to see someone standing in the doorway of their bedroom. Someone familiar, clad in a black leather jacket and dark jeans, dark eyes shining with malevolence.
Oh thank god! Bobby.
“You forgot about me?”
“How the hell did you get in?” Damien swore the question.
“Bobby gets in wherever he wants to be,” Mark said. “Hey Bobby, come on over here.”
“Come on over there? I’m here to kill you.”
“No you’re not,” Mark snorted. “Get your ass over here, boy.” He patted the bed, as both Damien and Bobby looked at him with doubtful expressions.
“Uh… Mark?” Damien cleared his throat.
“I’ve been with Bobby for a year,” Mark said. “He has a place with me. Always will.”
Damien nodded slowly. “Uh, well, I guess we’re going to have to talk…”
“Nothing to talk about, asshole,” Bobby said as he strode over. “I’ve had him more than you have.”
“It’s not a competition” Mark snorted, grabbing the younger man up. He hugged Bobby tight, yanking him down on the bed with him. Three in the bed just felt right. Bobby squirmed and cursed at first, but he settled down soon enough and actually let Mark hug him.
Meanwhile, Damien looked on with a bemused expression. Mark didn’t know if Damien would be alright with Bobby being around, but it wasn’t really negotiable in Mark’s mind. Bobby was family.
“Where have you been?”
“Just doing stuff,” Bobby sat up and tried to un-mess his hair.
“Uh huh. Well I want you doing stuff here from now on,” Mark said. “There’s a spare bedroom here.”
“So we’re just not going to talk about this at all?” Damien raised a brow.
“No.” Bobby and Mark spoke in chorus.
“Uh
huh, so this is what I get for being with a gangster,” Damien smirked, his face relaxing as he accepted his fate. Mark had known he would. Damien was too good a man to leave one of Angelo’s victims out in the cold.
“One rule,” Mark said. “Well, more than one, but one very important one. Bobby, you are NOT allowed to try to kill either of us, alright? Hard limit.”
“I should though. You betrayed Angelo.”
“Angelo betrayed me first.”
“Yeah,” Bobby agreed. “He did. I told him it was a dick move.”
“I bet that went down well.”
“He couldn’t do anything to me. He was behind a perspex screen. He looks fucking great in orange.” Bobby let out a little giggle. “He really doesn’t like being in jail.”
“Oh I bet,” Mark smiled.
Bobby had escaped all charges, mostly because the prosecutor had decided he’d get more mileage out of painting Bobby as a victim than as an associate. Angelo had been in jail for quite some time before heading to prison. He was classified as a flight risk and all the money in the world hadn’t made the judge willing to grant bail.
“I’m glad you came,” Mark said. “I’ve been worried about you.”
“No need to worry about me,” Bobby smirked. “I just had some stuff to do, a few things Angelo never let me do.”
“Well,” Damien said, sliding out of the bed. “I think this calls for pancakes.”
“Mmm,” Mark agreed. “Sounds yum!”
He sauntered off to the kitchen, leaving Bobby and Mark alone, Bobby sitting on the bed with a cynical expression on his handsome face.
“Do you ever get sick of being with Rainbow Bright over there?”
“Rainbow Bright?” Mark snorted.
“Let’s make pancakes, guys!” Bobby put on a high pitched voice and a goofy grin. “I’m so wholesome I’m sickening.”
“He’s not that wholesome,” Mark said, picking up a pillow and banging Bobby over the head. “And you know I’m not. Come on. Let’s go see your new room.”