Mirror!Pinto Chapter 5i
At long last, I give you...
And *gasp*! Might it be that in this chapter we find out who the evil bad guy is? For realsies? Like, seriously? ;P
Mirror!Pinto Series: Dark Desires
Touch what is mine Chapter 5i
Summary: Zach gets hurt again, and it's Chris' fault. Whoever did this will pay for it, Chris will make sure of that. And he has help.
Rating: Explicit/NC-17
Warnings: violence, hurt, angst, explicit sex (latah though), and in this chapter: seriously fucked up evil bad guys
Word Count: ~ 3.500
Disclaimer: Seriously? Not mine, never will be. Work of fiction, yadda yadda. *sob* The OCs in here are mine though, I made them, they are mine. Mine mine mine. My preciousssesss... so there. Everybody else is not. The OCs are mine. The others aren't. Got it? ;-P
Additional pairings: John/Anton, Karl/Chris/Zach (eventually, I promise.)
A/N: Betaed by medea_fic , thanks a lot, bb!
A/N 2: The evil bad guy’s name is courtesy of zjofierose . Aren’t you glad I didn’t call him Aethelstan Egbert Borimund Christian Utger Francesco Deribaldi of Lethstahelthsten, like I threatened? ;P
A/N 3: I just realized. Did I ever tell where the whole story takes place? I have the feeling I did mention the city’s name somewhere, but I have no idea where. Um. In case I did, and in case you are actually familiar with this city, forgive me for making up random street names and not using the actual ones. I’m way too lazy to look up city maps and plan routes and stuff… <.< Or pretend this is a fantasy town. I shall call her Pintopia. Or Buttsex Central, IDK. Anyway. On with the story…
Series Masterpost with all previous and following chapters and summaries for all parts.
FANMIX byangelrox040 is here.
Touch what is mine Chapter 5i
Karl
Karl sits sideways on the backseat, feet up on the headrest and flips through his notepad, face thoughtful. Joe watches him in the rearview mirror, then turns his head to look at Chris. His brother’s partner still hasn’t said much, his sunglasses are hiding his expression. But the exhausted lines around his mouth and the way his fingers twitch from time to time shows how strained he feels. The seemingly casual pose and arm hanging out from the car’s window certainly doesn’t fool Joe.
He just hopes Chris will be up for it.
Joe takes one hand from the steering wheel to make sure his gun, tucked into the waistband of his pants at his back, is within easy reach. He doesn’t want to have to fumble for it, later. When they make the bastard bleed. Warmth spreads through his belly as he imagines the asshole’s face when they come for him. He smiles to himself. Chris might deserve the first cut, but Joe will finish the guy off. Nobody hurts his baby brother and gets away with it. Nobody. Maybe they should get Zach, so he can watch. So he can see what Joe will do to protect him…
They still need to find the asshole, though.
They should have known the bastard wouldn’t use his own car, he must have known there was the possibility of witnesses. Stupid, really, thinking he’d incriminate himself like that. But, yeah, they were all pretty beside themselves. And what other lead should they have followed, the only thing they had was the car… which lead them to Hayes.
The soft-bellied, innocent little man has been pretty helpful. Karl played the cop, smiling and friendly and authoritative, Hayes was quite eager to help the “officer”. Joe snorts as he thinks back on how hopeful and grateful Hayes was, thinking they would get his stolen car back. So naïve, it’s almost cute. Zach would like him, would probably buy him a new car, too, since his attacker certainly already got rid of the stolen one.
But they have a new lead now. Turns out Hayes was looking for one of his problem kids from the shelter where he works and found him in a bar up on Stettler Street. He’d spent some time inside that bar, trying to talk the kid into coming back to the shelter, and when they’d come back out, the car had been gone. They have the name of the bar, the address, and now they’ll see if someone remembers something from that day. Or can be… persuaded to remember. Subtle questions from Karl have revealed that the area where the bar is located is the district of a certain gang, known for a variety of crimes and pretty protective of their territory. Even if the bastard they’re looking for isn’t among the members of this gang, they have to know something. A car being stolen in broad daylight, right in the middle of their territory, by someone not affiliated with them? They must have noticed. Maybe they even already found the guy. But they better not have gotten rid of him yet. That would be a huge disappointment.
Joe reaches for his gun again.
-----
Joe turns the corner and they drive up Stettler Street. Karl sits up straight and watches the houses pass by. The ‘Moonshine’ should come in sight soon. In the front, Joe drums his fingers nervously on the steering wheel and Chris lowers his sunglasses for a proper look out of the window.
“Slow down,” Chris says, “let’s take a look at the area first.”
Seems like he’s back in action, Karl thinks, and eyes the way Chris’ body suddenly seems to lose all the strain it has carried before. Before he seemed tired, grim, but now he’s tense and focused. Ready. Good.
Joe obeys, the car loses speed. Karl takes a deep breath and looks out of the window. A second-hand clothing store, a McDonalds, a pawn shop. A coffee place, tables mostly empty. A woman with her dog, a couple walking hand in hand, some kids laughing about something in a shop-window. A flashy car, parked in a side-alley, boys in hip hop-style clothes gathered around…
“I think there’s our gang.” He says and points at the side-alley. Joe slows down even more and Chris turns his head in the direction Karl is indicating. One of his fingers slips beneath his jacket, probably reaching for one of his knives.
Chris smiles. “Let’s go say hi.”
Joe chuckles and Karl grins himself. This will be fun.
Joe spots a car just leaving a parking spot a little way further along the street and slows down to let it drive away and take the empty spot. Karl taps Chris shoulder and points up the street, the ‘Moonshine’ is only two buildings away. Chris nods and is just about to say something, when Joe suddenly steps on the break, making the others throw out a hand to catch themselves before they bang their heads against something. Joe curses loudly, furiously, and Karl looks through the windshield to see what happened.
A sleek, silver Mercedes is just now zipping into the empty parking spot Joe was waiting for, completely ignoring of the fact that they were here first. Joe continues to curse at the asshole and bangs an angry fist against the steering wheel. The other car’s driver side door opens and a man gets out, tan suit, slicked-back hair, haughty expression, he sees their car and smirks provocatively. Joe reaches for the button to roll down the window, probably wants to tell the bastard exactly where he can shove his shiny European car when Chris suddenly freezes and grabs his arm.
“Drive.”
Karl furrows his brow and looks at Chris. Joe glares at him and tries to rip his arm from Chris’ grip, to no avail. “What?! Did you see that? Did you see that asshole? I can’t believe he…”
“Drive, Joe. Now.”
What the fuck? Chris sounds strange. His lips are pressed tightly together, knuckles white where they clamp around Joe’s arm. He’s turned his face carefully away from the window, doesn’t want to be seen, but throws covert looks outside towards the Mercedes’ driver. What is going on? Is he… scared?
“Drive, for fuck’s sake, we need to get out of here, now!”
Chris sounds urgent and dead serious, he lets go of Joe’s arm, reaches around him and pulls the gun from Joe’s pants. He still keeps his face turned away from the guy and holds the gun in a tight-knuckled grip, pressed along his right leg, out of sight from the street. Then he clicks the safety off. What the fuck? Joe seems to pick up on the urgency of the situation and accelerates the car, pulling out into the traffic again until they are speeding away. Chris doesn’t relax until they have turned the next corner and are safely out of sight. Only then does he click the safety back on.
But he does not let go of the gun.
“Fuck,” Chris mutters, rips his sunglasses off and pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers, “fuck.” He punches the dashboard, hard. Karl watches him and wonders.
Joe suddenly jerks the car around and rolls onto the parking lot of a nearby grocery store. He turns off the engine, yanks the keys out of the ignition and turns to glare at Chris. Karl furrows his brow and looks at his friend as well.
“Well, Chris? What the fuck was that? Why did you make me drive away? The gang was right there, for fuck’s sake! We could have taken them!”
Karl’s leans forward, voice calm and quiet. “Who was that guy, Chris?”
Chris sighs when he starts talking. Karl cranes his head to watch his face, Joe an angry, fidgeting shape in the corner of his eye. Chris closes his eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath. Then he opens them again and turns to look at Karl and Joe. He looks unsettled, troubled.
Chris swallows and says: “That guy is the bastard we’re after.”
Joe blinks. “Really? Are you sure? What’s up with you, then? Why didn’t we take him? We found him, great, awesome, let’s go back and gut that son of a bitch.” He sounds angry and elated at the same time.
Karl doesn’t quite feel the same way. Chris certainly doesn’t seem happy about it, and that worries him. A lot. “So what’s the problem? We found him. Isn’t that a good thing?”
Chris laughs, it sounds brittle. “No, that’s not a good thing. Not a good thing at all.”
-----
Before
There is a guy. Mikail Takash. He has a brother, Simon. Big brother Simon. Head of the family, the one with a name and a reputation, the one people talked about. Awe in their voices, awe and fear. Simon who smirks and wears European suits, who is always careful to hide his Russian accent. Better for business, he says, to sound American. What business? You don’t have to talk to the people you kill. But you can, of course. It can be fun.
Big brother Simon. With the drugs and the girls and the murders. The one people look to when they wait for orders. The family, the clan, the whole damn world. Even the cops watch him, but Simon is careful. They don’t have proof. They don’t even know what things he’s done. How many he has killed.
But Mikail knows. He’s seen them all. Nobody sees him, he hides in the shadows and watches, and if someone sees him there, they flinch and turn away. Simon says he scares people. Mikail doesn’t know why. But nobody looks at him if they can avoid him, try to ignore when he’s around. This is good, because it means he can watch. He’s seen the drugs, he’s seen the girls, he’s seen the murders. He’s seen everything Simon did. Blood on the walls, on a bed. White powder running out of plastic bags riddled with bullet holes.
Sometimes he helps. Sometimes Simon lets him, when Mikail has one of his “better” days. Most of the time, though, Simon makes him stay at home. Alone in the large mansion, only the dogs for company and the few people on their house hold staff. The dogs try to bite him, and the staff are scared of him. Mikail hides in his room and counts the cracks in the ceiling.
Simon says he’s sick. Says the doctor will help him. Mikail doesn’t believe that. But Simon says he should try, so he tries. He loves big brother Simon. Big brother Simon kills people who look at him too long, who stare and point and whisper. Mikail hates that, Simon does too, so he kills them. Once he used a knife and Mikail watched the blood seep into the carpet. The stain’s still there, sometimes he touches it, when he’s alone. Simon did this, for him. Mikail loves his brother.
If Mikail’s been good, if he hasn’t tried to hurt his doctor, if he’s taken the electro shocks and the needles without complaint, Simon gets him a girl. One of the prostitutes he brings from the old country, scared and alone and pale and unwilling. Mikail loves these days. He tries to be good, for Simon. For the girls.
The first time Simon comes in the morning after Mikail has been good, he doesn’t get mad. The girl lies broken on the bed, Mikail has tried to put her fingers back where they belong, but he didn’t have needle and thread. She’s not dead, she twitches and whimpers. She sounds like a small, frightened animal. Mikail pets her hair and paints swirls through the blood on her legs, when Simon comes in.
Big brother Simon looks at them on the bed and sighs. Tells him to be more careful, not to damage the merchandise. He sounds disappointed, he won’t get any more money out of this girl. Mikail’s ashamed. He didn’t mean to, it just… happened. But big brother Simon forgives him. Mikail smiles.
It happens again. And again. Pale girls, skinny girls, little animal mewls. They break so easily. Simon chastises him, Mikail hangs his head. He’s sorry, he didn’t mean to break them. They are so fragile and his hands so big. He’s sorry…
Simon brings him different girls. Not the ones he brought from Russia, the ones he wants to sell, more or less intact. He finds them on the street, here in America. Runaways, maybe. Mikail doesn’t care. They don’t break as easily as the first ones, they fight back sometimes. Didn’t get the treatment the others got by Simon’s assistants before they come to him. But they still break, they still bleed. They still sound like little animals. Mikail doesn’t mind. Simon said he’s been good, he deserves a reward. Simon said so.
-----
Mikail doesn’t know what the devil wants from him. He grabbed him on the street, the bodyguards Simon gave him lie dead against the wall. Simon will be mad at Mikail, but it wasn’t his fault. It was the devil. The devil who stares at him, the devil who has blood on his hands, the devil who shoved something long and sharp and silver into his stomach, it hurts, it hurts. The devil stares at him from blue eyes, burning bright like the fires of hell. Mikail whimpers and tries to escape, but the devil presses him against the wall. Something hisses, it’s in his ear, a snake, a snake, where is it? Mikail sobs. Don’t bite me, snake!
It’s not a snake. It’s a voice. The devil snarls at him, his teeth are long and white and pointy, his eyes burn so bright Mikail’s skin starts to boil, he can see it fall off in large, black flakes, they make a wet sound when they hit the sidewalk. Mikail screams, his skin! But the devil slams him against the wall and he gets dizzy. His limbs won’t move. Can’t escape the devil.
The devil hisses something about a girl that he killed, a girl with a father, a father who wants revenge, but Mikail shakes and shakes and shakes his head. He didn’t, he never, he didn’t mean it! He never meant to break them!
The devil ignores him. He twists the knife, rips it out. He watches Mikail slide down the wall in a trail of red. He bends down, dripping knife in hand. Mikail raises a hand, fingers forming the sign against evil his Mama taught him. It doesn’t work - the devil slashes with the knife, it leaves a silvery trail in the air. He doesn’t feel any pain. Mikail stares dumbly at his fingers on the ground, they are still twitching. He doesn’t have a needle, how will he put them back where they belong?
The devil grabs him between the legs, in his secret place. Mikail tries to scramble away, but he can’t move his legs. His pants are wet and warm, he hopes he didn’t pee himself, Simon gets mad when he does. The devil laughs at him and pushes the knife against his secret place.
Mikail Takash howls when the knife comes down. He sounds like a rabid dog. Howls and shrieks and then falls silent, all he does now is make tiny whimpers. Like a small animal. He clutches his hand and his stomach, blinking at the red seeping out of him. It still doesn’t hurt, everything’s numb. Numb. Something hits his lap, a wet smack. Warmth spreads on his legs. He doesn’t want to look at it, but his head turns anyway. Mikail gasps and sobs. He’s getting warmer, hot now, so hot, fire on his skin. Fire? Burning? Is this hell? No, no, please no. So hot, so hot, his blood is boiling. Hell is close, it’s getting dark now. Please, devil, don’t. Not hell. No, please…
The last thing Mikail sees are his own cut-off balls. Then his eyes close. Forever. Big brother Simon will be so mad.
Chris gets up and wipes his knife on the other’s pants leg. He walks away whistling.
-----
Now
“How many?”
Chris frowns at Karl in confusion.
“How many, Chris, how many girls did that asshole kill?”
Oh. Chris sighs and lifts his shoulders. “I have no idea. A dozen. Maybe more, I really don’t know. The man who hired me tried to find out, wanted to locate the families back in Russia, but, well, you know how it is when the police finds a dead, nameless prostitute. He didn’t have much to go on.”
Karl flops back in the couch and rubs his eyes. “Jesus.”
Zach rubs Chris shoulders comfortingly. Chris manages a twisted smile and leans into the touch a little. His partner’s face is serious, eyes dark and angry. Chris can relate. God, what a day. What a day…
Joe has been quiet while Chris told his story, unlike Karl, who had stalked across the room, muttering and cursing, unable to sit still. But now Joe leans forward and eyes Chris. “So, why didn’t you kill his brother? That asshole obviously deserves it just as much as Mikail.”
Chris frowns unhappily. “I meant to. I tried, but the police got him before I could make my move. Tax evasion, or something, he’s been in jail ever since.” And wasn’t that a disappointment, back then. He’d really wanted to kill that bastard. “To be honest, I didn’t even know he was out. I thought he’d have at least another two years. Must have gotten out early.”
Karl snorts. “Or bribed a judge.”
Zach shoves at Chris until the other opens his arms and lets him rest against his stomach. Chris presses an absent kiss to Zach’s hair. He can’t stop touching him. Chris remembers the photos he saw, the girls, barely eighteen, broken and bloody. He grits his teeth and pulls Zach closer. Zach presses against him, tight and warm and safe. Chris can feel his heartbeat. Alive. Alive.
His lover makes himself comfortable and cranes his head to look at the others. “Are we sure this is the bastard who… are we sure it’s him?”
Chris tightens his arms around Zach. He sure as hell noticed the little hesitation there, and fuck… he knows the feeling. Even now, Zach safe and sound in his arms, he can’t think of that night without again feeling that helplessness. And that rage, that thirst for revenge.
“Yeah, pretty sure. I mean, this guy swore to me he’d get me for killing Mikail, said he’d take the person I… I loved most from me the same way I did with his brother, so…”
Joe nods. “Yeah okay. I’d kill him either way. The world will be a better place without that… that monster.”
Karl laughs harshly. “Amen to that.”
Chris whole-heartedly agrees. That fucker needs to die. Painfully. Slowly. As slowly as he can manage. Soon, soon…
Zach sits up and rubs his hands. “So, how are we gonna do it?”
What the fuck? “We? We?!” Chris straightens and glares at his lover. What the hell is he thinking?! “’We’ aren’t gonna do anything! You’ll stay right here, out of danger, you’re not getting near that bastard!”
Zach opens his mouth to protest. Chris glares at him, Zach looks away. Chris grabs his chin to force his head around, fingers tightening to the point of pain. Karl moves uncomfortably on the couch and Joe opens his mouth as if to protest, but Chris ignores them and gives his recalcitrant lover a shake. “You hear me? Never again, Zach! You’re not doing a damn thing!”
“Fuck, okay! Okay, I got it, I got it, Jesus!”
Zach yanks his chin from Chris’ grasp and slides away from him on the couch. He rubs his chin and glares at the floor, free hand balled into a fist. Chris stares at him for a moment longer, not happy with Zach’s reaction - and his own, but no way in fucking hell will he let Zach come with them. Jesus Christ, barely on his way back to health and then this! He loves Zach, and he admires his determination to be a part of this, to get his own revenge, but no way. No way will he let Takash get close to Zach again. No fucking way.
Karl clears his throat, still looking uncomfortable. “Okay, so, um. Recon. Let’s find out where the bastard lives, where he eats, where he gets his dry-cleaning done. We need to know everything about him, his weak spots, his hiding places, everything. And then, when we find our in, we grab him and…”
Joe throws the pouting Zach a look and rubs the stubble on his chin, face thoughtful. “I have a warehouse we can use. Nobody will hear a thing there.”
Chris smiles, slow and dangerous. “Gentlemen, I like the way you think. Let’s do this.”
Next to him, Zach snorts.
-----
OMG! What will happen next!!! ;P
And *gasp*! Might it be that in this chapter we find out who the evil bad guy is? For realsies? Like, seriously? ;P
Mirror!Pinto Series: Dark Desires
Touch what is mine Chapter 5i
Summary: Zach gets hurt again, and it's Chris' fault. Whoever did this will pay for it, Chris will make sure of that. And he has help.
Rating: Explicit/NC-17
Warnings: violence, hurt, angst, explicit sex (latah though), and in this chapter: seriously fucked up evil bad guys
Word Count: ~ 3.500
Disclaimer: Seriously? Not mine, never will be. Work of fiction, yadda yadda. *sob* The OCs in here are mine though, I made them, they are mine. Mine mine mine. My preciousssesss... so there. Everybody else is not. The OCs are mine. The others aren't. Got it? ;-P
Additional pairings: John/Anton, Karl/Chris/Zach (eventually, I promise.)
A/N: Betaed by medea_fic , thanks a lot, bb!
A/N 2: The evil bad guy’s name is courtesy of zjofierose . Aren’t you glad I didn’t call him Aethelstan Egbert Borimund Christian Utger Francesco Deribaldi of Lethstahelthsten, like I threatened? ;P
A/N 3: I just realized. Did I ever tell where the whole story takes place? I have the feeling I did mention the city’s name somewhere, but I have no idea where. Um. In case I did, and in case you are actually familiar with this city, forgive me for making up random street names and not using the actual ones. I’m way too lazy to look up city maps and plan routes and stuff… <.< Or pretend this is a fantasy town. I shall call her Pintopia. Or Buttsex Central, IDK. Anyway. On with the story…
Series Masterpost with all previous and following chapters and summaries for all parts.
FANMIX byangelrox040 is here.
Touch what is mine Chapter 5i
Karl
Karl sits sideways on the backseat, feet up on the headrest and flips through his notepad, face thoughtful. Joe watches him in the rearview mirror, then turns his head to look at Chris. His brother’s partner still hasn’t said much, his sunglasses are hiding his expression. But the exhausted lines around his mouth and the way his fingers twitch from time to time shows how strained he feels. The seemingly casual pose and arm hanging out from the car’s window certainly doesn’t fool Joe.
He just hopes Chris will be up for it.
Joe takes one hand from the steering wheel to make sure his gun, tucked into the waistband of his pants at his back, is within easy reach. He doesn’t want to have to fumble for it, later. When they make the bastard bleed. Warmth spreads through his belly as he imagines the asshole’s face when they come for him. He smiles to himself. Chris might deserve the first cut, but Joe will finish the guy off. Nobody hurts his baby brother and gets away with it. Nobody. Maybe they should get Zach, so he can watch. So he can see what Joe will do to protect him…
They still need to find the asshole, though.
They should have known the bastard wouldn’t use his own car, he must have known there was the possibility of witnesses. Stupid, really, thinking he’d incriminate himself like that. But, yeah, they were all pretty beside themselves. And what other lead should they have followed, the only thing they had was the car… which lead them to Hayes.
The soft-bellied, innocent little man has been pretty helpful. Karl played the cop, smiling and friendly and authoritative, Hayes was quite eager to help the “officer”. Joe snorts as he thinks back on how hopeful and grateful Hayes was, thinking they would get his stolen car back. So naïve, it’s almost cute. Zach would like him, would probably buy him a new car, too, since his attacker certainly already got rid of the stolen one.
But they have a new lead now. Turns out Hayes was looking for one of his problem kids from the shelter where he works and found him in a bar up on Stettler Street. He’d spent some time inside that bar, trying to talk the kid into coming back to the shelter, and when they’d come back out, the car had been gone. They have the name of the bar, the address, and now they’ll see if someone remembers something from that day. Or can be… persuaded to remember. Subtle questions from Karl have revealed that the area where the bar is located is the district of a certain gang, known for a variety of crimes and pretty protective of their territory. Even if the bastard they’re looking for isn’t among the members of this gang, they have to know something. A car being stolen in broad daylight, right in the middle of their territory, by someone not affiliated with them? They must have noticed. Maybe they even already found the guy. But they better not have gotten rid of him yet. That would be a huge disappointment.
Joe reaches for his gun again.
-----
Joe turns the corner and they drive up Stettler Street. Karl sits up straight and watches the houses pass by. The ‘Moonshine’ should come in sight soon. In the front, Joe drums his fingers nervously on the steering wheel and Chris lowers his sunglasses for a proper look out of the window.
“Slow down,” Chris says, “let’s take a look at the area first.”
Seems like he’s back in action, Karl thinks, and eyes the way Chris’ body suddenly seems to lose all the strain it has carried before. Before he seemed tired, grim, but now he’s tense and focused. Ready. Good.
Joe obeys, the car loses speed. Karl takes a deep breath and looks out of the window. A second-hand clothing store, a McDonalds, a pawn shop. A coffee place, tables mostly empty. A woman with her dog, a couple walking hand in hand, some kids laughing about something in a shop-window. A flashy car, parked in a side-alley, boys in hip hop-style clothes gathered around…
“I think there’s our gang.” He says and points at the side-alley. Joe slows down even more and Chris turns his head in the direction Karl is indicating. One of his fingers slips beneath his jacket, probably reaching for one of his knives.
Chris smiles. “Let’s go say hi.”
Joe chuckles and Karl grins himself. This will be fun.
Joe spots a car just leaving a parking spot a little way further along the street and slows down to let it drive away and take the empty spot. Karl taps Chris shoulder and points up the street, the ‘Moonshine’ is only two buildings away. Chris nods and is just about to say something, when Joe suddenly steps on the break, making the others throw out a hand to catch themselves before they bang their heads against something. Joe curses loudly, furiously, and Karl looks through the windshield to see what happened.
A sleek, silver Mercedes is just now zipping into the empty parking spot Joe was waiting for, completely ignoring of the fact that they were here first. Joe continues to curse at the asshole and bangs an angry fist against the steering wheel. The other car’s driver side door opens and a man gets out, tan suit, slicked-back hair, haughty expression, he sees their car and smirks provocatively. Joe reaches for the button to roll down the window, probably wants to tell the bastard exactly where he can shove his shiny European car when Chris suddenly freezes and grabs his arm.
“Drive.”
Karl furrows his brow and looks at Chris. Joe glares at him and tries to rip his arm from Chris’ grip, to no avail. “What?! Did you see that? Did you see that asshole? I can’t believe he…”
“Drive, Joe. Now.”
What the fuck? Chris sounds strange. His lips are pressed tightly together, knuckles white where they clamp around Joe’s arm. He’s turned his face carefully away from the window, doesn’t want to be seen, but throws covert looks outside towards the Mercedes’ driver. What is going on? Is he… scared?
“Drive, for fuck’s sake, we need to get out of here, now!”
Chris sounds urgent and dead serious, he lets go of Joe’s arm, reaches around him and pulls the gun from Joe’s pants. He still keeps his face turned away from the guy and holds the gun in a tight-knuckled grip, pressed along his right leg, out of sight from the street. Then he clicks the safety off. What the fuck? Joe seems to pick up on the urgency of the situation and accelerates the car, pulling out into the traffic again until they are speeding away. Chris doesn’t relax until they have turned the next corner and are safely out of sight. Only then does he click the safety back on.
But he does not let go of the gun.
“Fuck,” Chris mutters, rips his sunglasses off and pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers, “fuck.” He punches the dashboard, hard. Karl watches him and wonders.
Joe suddenly jerks the car around and rolls onto the parking lot of a nearby grocery store. He turns off the engine, yanks the keys out of the ignition and turns to glare at Chris. Karl furrows his brow and looks at his friend as well.
“Well, Chris? What the fuck was that? Why did you make me drive away? The gang was right there, for fuck’s sake! We could have taken them!”
Karl’s leans forward, voice calm and quiet. “Who was that guy, Chris?”
Chris sighs when he starts talking. Karl cranes his head to watch his face, Joe an angry, fidgeting shape in the corner of his eye. Chris closes his eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath. Then he opens them again and turns to look at Karl and Joe. He looks unsettled, troubled.
Chris swallows and says: “That guy is the bastard we’re after.”
Joe blinks. “Really? Are you sure? What’s up with you, then? Why didn’t we take him? We found him, great, awesome, let’s go back and gut that son of a bitch.” He sounds angry and elated at the same time.
Karl doesn’t quite feel the same way. Chris certainly doesn’t seem happy about it, and that worries him. A lot. “So what’s the problem? We found him. Isn’t that a good thing?”
Chris laughs, it sounds brittle. “No, that’s not a good thing. Not a good thing at all.”
-----
Before
There is a guy. Mikail Takash. He has a brother, Simon. Big brother Simon. Head of the family, the one with a name and a reputation, the one people talked about. Awe in their voices, awe and fear. Simon who smirks and wears European suits, who is always careful to hide his Russian accent. Better for business, he says, to sound American. What business? You don’t have to talk to the people you kill. But you can, of course. It can be fun.
Big brother Simon. With the drugs and the girls and the murders. The one people look to when they wait for orders. The family, the clan, the whole damn world. Even the cops watch him, but Simon is careful. They don’t have proof. They don’t even know what things he’s done. How many he has killed.
But Mikail knows. He’s seen them all. Nobody sees him, he hides in the shadows and watches, and if someone sees him there, they flinch and turn away. Simon says he scares people. Mikail doesn’t know why. But nobody looks at him if they can avoid him, try to ignore when he’s around. This is good, because it means he can watch. He’s seen the drugs, he’s seen the girls, he’s seen the murders. He’s seen everything Simon did. Blood on the walls, on a bed. White powder running out of plastic bags riddled with bullet holes.
Sometimes he helps. Sometimes Simon lets him, when Mikail has one of his “better” days. Most of the time, though, Simon makes him stay at home. Alone in the large mansion, only the dogs for company and the few people on their house hold staff. The dogs try to bite him, and the staff are scared of him. Mikail hides in his room and counts the cracks in the ceiling.
Simon says he’s sick. Says the doctor will help him. Mikail doesn’t believe that. But Simon says he should try, so he tries. He loves big brother Simon. Big brother Simon kills people who look at him too long, who stare and point and whisper. Mikail hates that, Simon does too, so he kills them. Once he used a knife and Mikail watched the blood seep into the carpet. The stain’s still there, sometimes he touches it, when he’s alone. Simon did this, for him. Mikail loves his brother.
If Mikail’s been good, if he hasn’t tried to hurt his doctor, if he’s taken the electro shocks and the needles without complaint, Simon gets him a girl. One of the prostitutes he brings from the old country, scared and alone and pale and unwilling. Mikail loves these days. He tries to be good, for Simon. For the girls.
The first time Simon comes in the morning after Mikail has been good, he doesn’t get mad. The girl lies broken on the bed, Mikail has tried to put her fingers back where they belong, but he didn’t have needle and thread. She’s not dead, she twitches and whimpers. She sounds like a small, frightened animal. Mikail pets her hair and paints swirls through the blood on her legs, when Simon comes in.
Big brother Simon looks at them on the bed and sighs. Tells him to be more careful, not to damage the merchandise. He sounds disappointed, he won’t get any more money out of this girl. Mikail’s ashamed. He didn’t mean to, it just… happened. But big brother Simon forgives him. Mikail smiles.
It happens again. And again. Pale girls, skinny girls, little animal mewls. They break so easily. Simon chastises him, Mikail hangs his head. He’s sorry, he didn’t mean to break them. They are so fragile and his hands so big. He’s sorry…
Simon brings him different girls. Not the ones he brought from Russia, the ones he wants to sell, more or less intact. He finds them on the street, here in America. Runaways, maybe. Mikail doesn’t care. They don’t break as easily as the first ones, they fight back sometimes. Didn’t get the treatment the others got by Simon’s assistants before they come to him. But they still break, they still bleed. They still sound like little animals. Mikail doesn’t mind. Simon said he’s been good, he deserves a reward. Simon said so.
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Mikail doesn’t know what the devil wants from him. He grabbed him on the street, the bodyguards Simon gave him lie dead against the wall. Simon will be mad at Mikail, but it wasn’t his fault. It was the devil. The devil who stares at him, the devil who has blood on his hands, the devil who shoved something long and sharp and silver into his stomach, it hurts, it hurts. The devil stares at him from blue eyes, burning bright like the fires of hell. Mikail whimpers and tries to escape, but the devil presses him against the wall. Something hisses, it’s in his ear, a snake, a snake, where is it? Mikail sobs. Don’t bite me, snake!
It’s not a snake. It’s a voice. The devil snarls at him, his teeth are long and white and pointy, his eyes burn so bright Mikail’s skin starts to boil, he can see it fall off in large, black flakes, they make a wet sound when they hit the sidewalk. Mikail screams, his skin! But the devil slams him against the wall and he gets dizzy. His limbs won’t move. Can’t escape the devil.
The devil hisses something about a girl that he killed, a girl with a father, a father who wants revenge, but Mikail shakes and shakes and shakes his head. He didn’t, he never, he didn’t mean it! He never meant to break them!
The devil ignores him. He twists the knife, rips it out. He watches Mikail slide down the wall in a trail of red. He bends down, dripping knife in hand. Mikail raises a hand, fingers forming the sign against evil his Mama taught him. It doesn’t work - the devil slashes with the knife, it leaves a silvery trail in the air. He doesn’t feel any pain. Mikail stares dumbly at his fingers on the ground, they are still twitching. He doesn’t have a needle, how will he put them back where they belong?
The devil grabs him between the legs, in his secret place. Mikail tries to scramble away, but he can’t move his legs. His pants are wet and warm, he hopes he didn’t pee himself, Simon gets mad when he does. The devil laughs at him and pushes the knife against his secret place.
Mikail Takash howls when the knife comes down. He sounds like a rabid dog. Howls and shrieks and then falls silent, all he does now is make tiny whimpers. Like a small animal. He clutches his hand and his stomach, blinking at the red seeping out of him. It still doesn’t hurt, everything’s numb. Numb. Something hits his lap, a wet smack. Warmth spreads on his legs. He doesn’t want to look at it, but his head turns anyway. Mikail gasps and sobs. He’s getting warmer, hot now, so hot, fire on his skin. Fire? Burning? Is this hell? No, no, please no. So hot, so hot, his blood is boiling. Hell is close, it’s getting dark now. Please, devil, don’t. Not hell. No, please…
The last thing Mikail sees are his own cut-off balls. Then his eyes close. Forever. Big brother Simon will be so mad.
Chris gets up and wipes his knife on the other’s pants leg. He walks away whistling.
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Now
“How many?”
Chris frowns at Karl in confusion.
“How many, Chris, how many girls did that asshole kill?”
Oh. Chris sighs and lifts his shoulders. “I have no idea. A dozen. Maybe more, I really don’t know. The man who hired me tried to find out, wanted to locate the families back in Russia, but, well, you know how it is when the police finds a dead, nameless prostitute. He didn’t have much to go on.”
Karl flops back in the couch and rubs his eyes. “Jesus.”
Zach rubs Chris shoulders comfortingly. Chris manages a twisted smile and leans into the touch a little. His partner’s face is serious, eyes dark and angry. Chris can relate. God, what a day. What a day…
Joe has been quiet while Chris told his story, unlike Karl, who had stalked across the room, muttering and cursing, unable to sit still. But now Joe leans forward and eyes Chris. “So, why didn’t you kill his brother? That asshole obviously deserves it just as much as Mikail.”
Chris frowns unhappily. “I meant to. I tried, but the police got him before I could make my move. Tax evasion, or something, he’s been in jail ever since.” And wasn’t that a disappointment, back then. He’d really wanted to kill that bastard. “To be honest, I didn’t even know he was out. I thought he’d have at least another two years. Must have gotten out early.”
Karl snorts. “Or bribed a judge.”
Zach shoves at Chris until the other opens his arms and lets him rest against his stomach. Chris presses an absent kiss to Zach’s hair. He can’t stop touching him. Chris remembers the photos he saw, the girls, barely eighteen, broken and bloody. He grits his teeth and pulls Zach closer. Zach presses against him, tight and warm and safe. Chris can feel his heartbeat. Alive. Alive.
His lover makes himself comfortable and cranes his head to look at the others. “Are we sure this is the bastard who… are we sure it’s him?”
Chris tightens his arms around Zach. He sure as hell noticed the little hesitation there, and fuck… he knows the feeling. Even now, Zach safe and sound in his arms, he can’t think of that night without again feeling that helplessness. And that rage, that thirst for revenge.
“Yeah, pretty sure. I mean, this guy swore to me he’d get me for killing Mikail, said he’d take the person I… I loved most from me the same way I did with his brother, so…”
Joe nods. “Yeah okay. I’d kill him either way. The world will be a better place without that… that monster.”
Karl laughs harshly. “Amen to that.”
Chris whole-heartedly agrees. That fucker needs to die. Painfully. Slowly. As slowly as he can manage. Soon, soon…
Zach sits up and rubs his hands. “So, how are we gonna do it?”
What the fuck? “We? We?!” Chris straightens and glares at his lover. What the hell is he thinking?! “’We’ aren’t gonna do anything! You’ll stay right here, out of danger, you’re not getting near that bastard!”
Zach opens his mouth to protest. Chris glares at him, Zach looks away. Chris grabs his chin to force his head around, fingers tightening to the point of pain. Karl moves uncomfortably on the couch and Joe opens his mouth as if to protest, but Chris ignores them and gives his recalcitrant lover a shake. “You hear me? Never again, Zach! You’re not doing a damn thing!”
“Fuck, okay! Okay, I got it, I got it, Jesus!”
Zach yanks his chin from Chris’ grasp and slides away from him on the couch. He rubs his chin and glares at the floor, free hand balled into a fist. Chris stares at him for a moment longer, not happy with Zach’s reaction - and his own, but no way in fucking hell will he let Zach come with them. Jesus Christ, barely on his way back to health and then this! He loves Zach, and he admires his determination to be a part of this, to get his own revenge, but no way. No way will he let Takash get close to Zach again. No fucking way.
Karl clears his throat, still looking uncomfortable. “Okay, so, um. Recon. Let’s find out where the bastard lives, where he eats, where he gets his dry-cleaning done. We need to know everything about him, his weak spots, his hiding places, everything. And then, when we find our in, we grab him and…”
Joe throws the pouting Zach a look and rubs the stubble on his chin, face thoughtful. “I have a warehouse we can use. Nobody will hear a thing there.”
Chris smiles, slow and dangerous. “Gentlemen, I like the way you think. Let’s do this.”
Next to him, Zach snorts.
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OMG! What will happen next!!! ;P