Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang Us, Daddy (Murder Daddy #3)

14. Nate

CHAPTER 14

NATE

B enito. The monster. The man who ruined my boys. He’s right in front of me, cowering in a heap inside the box. His chest is rising and falling, but that won’t last long if I have my way. I’ve never once entertained the idea of taking someone’s life, but right now, with my Benjamin breaking like glass beneath me, the urge consumes me. It spreads through my veins like wildfire, pump-pump-pumping red heat inside me. I lean over the box and wrap my hand around the man’s throat, but the sound of Benji’s sobs stop me in my tracks.

I jerk my head toward Benji, my eyes widening when I see how distraught my boy is. He’s shaking like he’s been submerged in an ice-cold lake in the dead of winter. I can’t stand to see him like this. We’ve worked so damn hard to put his heart back together, and now this man—this monster—is threatening to undo all that hard work by existing in Benji’s presence. Not on my watch. Not today.

I kneel in front of my boy, cupping his face, kissing his forehead, reminding him he’s loved. Bennet’s right here with me, doing everything he can to console the man we love. Bennet shoots me a pleading glance, and our newfound triplet powers activate. We both know what he needs to bring him back. He needs to know he’s safe, but the means with which to do so would seem depraved to my son.

“Tatum, I need you to leave the room. Go upstairs. Now. Go to my bedroom.”

“Why the hell would I?—”

“Please, Tate?” Bennet pleads. “He’s got to make Benji better, but the only way to make him better is . . .” Bennet looks at me for guidance, but I don’t know how to tell Tatum either. What we share isn’t something normal couples do. Well, maybe they do. I’m not entirely sure how common it is for partners to wear their lovers’ load as a means of emotional stability, honestly. All I know is my boy needs this, and I can give it to him.

“I need to ejaculate onto him, son. Unless you want to make things awkward, I need you to padlock that chest, then leave the room.”

Tatum’s eyes bulge, but, to my surprise, he doesn’t argue. He slams the chest shut and clicks the lock in place before grabbing Abi by the hand and rushing him into the foyer. Once I hear their footsteps on the stairs, I get to work, unfastening my slacks and pulling out my cock. I’m not hard at all, so I know this might be tricky. With my erectile issues, I have no idea if I’ll be able to rise to the occasion at all.

Then, my Benji looks at me. His eyes are on me, begging for my help. Seeing him like this, in need of something only I can provide, is enough to get me there. My cock stands at attention, and I stroke myself rapidly, not wanting to waste time. This isn’t a sexual moment. I have no need for an orgasm after the one they gave me earlier, but my son needs this. I can make him better, and I will.

I hobble forward on my knees until I’m kneeling over his chest with my cock angled at his face. If a load to the stomach can usually bring him back within minutes, blowing on his face might expedite the process.

“You’re safe, baby,” I soothe. “Dad’s here, and I’m not going to let anyone hurt you. You’re mine, buddy. You’re mine, and you’re Bennet’s. Are you ready for it? Going to bust all over you, baby, I promise.”

“Go on,” Bennet says, patting my ass supportively. “He’s ready. He needs it, Daddy.”

I work my hand faster against my shaft. My balls draw closer, and a familiar tingle spreads through my spine. “Here I come, buddy. Dad’s going to make it all better, I swear. Fuck. Benji.” His eyes are glued to mine. He’s not even looking at my dick. And, Jesus, the level of love in his eyes is unbearable. Even through his heartbreak, his eyes are blaring out love.

“Dad,” he whispers, then it happens. I aim my cockhead at his lips and explode, coating him like lip gloss. The next shot lands on his cheek, and I’m at a loss, because I have no idea how I’ve managed to come so hard twice within an hour. It’s covering half his face. Another jet lands on his chin, then his mouth opens, and he leans closer before taking my cock between his lips. Slowly, he lays his head back, and I come along for the journey.

I’m hunched over him, my arms resting on the carpet as I slowly fuck my softening cock in and out of his mouth. It’s almost too sensitive to bear, but then I think of what my boy is going through, and I push past that sensitivity, offering him whatever I can to guide him back.

He isn’t sucking to grant me release—it’s almost like he’s using me as a pacifier of sorts. Bennet’s lying on his side, his face inches from Benji’s, whispering words of encouragement. With the way I’m angled, I can’t do much to comfort him, so I just slowly slide in and out on an infinite loop until his body stops shaking, praising him with offerings of “Sweet boy. Sweetest boy. That’s my good boy,” continuously.

Fifteen minutes pass before my penis falls from his lips. When I back away and lie at his side, wedging him between myself and Bennet, his eyes follow me for the journey. I don’t bother stuffing my penis back in my pants, I just cup his face and pull him in for a kiss.

The longer we kiss, the more cum drips into our open mouths. It’s like a refreshing pop of protein each time a little more lands on our tongues. I reach blindly for Bennet before guiding him down and inviting him into the kiss.

I want this. For the rest of my life, I want them to be mine, and for me to be theirs. Their dad. Their Daddy. The love of their lives—because that’s who they are for me.

“Why is he here?” Benji finally asks. “Why would Tate bring the monster?” I can tell he wants to curl in on himself and bury his face in either Bennet’s or my chest, but he’s holding strong, and I’m just so dang proud of him. That’s my boy.

“I’m assuming he wants to dispose of him, once and for all.”

“They didn’t have to bring him here,” he whimpers. “They could have done it in Washington.” He stares at me with teary eyes, and it’s a look that shatters my heart. “Please don’t let him hurt me.”

I cup his cheek. “I swear to God, Benjamin. No one is ever going to hurt you again. I’m not going anywhere, baby, I promise.” I wipe my load from his face and slide my hand beneath his shirt, slathering it liberally across his stomach. “Dad’s got you, buddy. I’m right here. You’re safe.” I lean in and kiss him gently as I squeeze his hip.

Benji nods, then he sits up and stares at the chest. The key is right beside it, and my breath hitches when he grabs it and slides it into the padlock. He closes his eyes and draws in a shaky breath.

The chest creaks loudly as it opens, and as Benji kneels over, staring down at his monster, my heart slams in my chest. If Benito even thinks about touching Benjamin or Bennet, I’ll rip his head off with my bare hands.

“Hi, Nito,” Benji whispers, and my God, he sounds wrecked.

“B-Benji?” Benito’s voice is raw and broken, and I have to physically bite my bottom lip to stop the words from pouring out, because he doesn’t get to call Benjamin that anymore. He lost that right a long time ago. “Benji, I can’t feel my legs.” Benji’s jaw is trembling, and tension fills the room the longer he stares down into the box. “Please? I think I’m dying. I don’t—I’m sorry, I . . .” He makes a rattling sound as he breathes, and then he lets out a phlegmy cough. “I’m begging you. Benji, I don’t want to die. I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry for everything, just—Please help me.”

Benji cocks his head to the side like the request is the silliest thing he’s ever heard. “But it’s what you deserve. You hurt Tatum’s heart, then you broke ours. You didn’t have to be so mean. There was no reason to make it hurt so bad.” He sniffles. I clench my fist, digging my nails into my palm, because if I don’t, I’m going to kill the man for making Benji cry. “What did we ever do to make you hate us so much?”

“I’m sorry,” he sobs. “Benji, I really think I’m dying. They barely feed me anything. Tatum keeps me locked in his closet. I get it now—I promise I won’t ever do it to anyone else. Please, help me. I’m sorry!”

“Do they beat you?” Benji asks, his voice void of emotion. He sounds like a robot.

“No, but they do other stuff. They make me sit in a chair while they have sex, and then they tell me all the ways they’re going to kill me. The big one drugs me all the time. This is the most sober I’ve felt in months. I can’t do this anymore. Benji, I can’t, it’s?—”

Bennet takes his place at Benji’s side. “Torture,” he finishes for Nito as he kneels beside Benji, staring down into the chest. “It’s torture, and it’s exactly what you deserve.” I’ve never heard Bennet so assertive. My quiet little guy has finally found his voice, and a rush of pride swells in me.

“Bennet, I never meant—” The monster doesn’t cry out when Bennet balls his hand into a fist and punches down into the chest. I can’t see anything from where I am right now, so it looks like he’s just hitting an empty box.

“I hate you!” Bennet cries out. “I hate you for everything you did to me. For what you did to Tatum. I could forgive that, Nito. I could forgive and forget if it meant never having to see you again. But I can’t forgive you for what you did to Benji. I won’t.”

“Bennet,” Benji whispers, shaking his head. “I don’t want this. Look at him. He’s broken down to the point he probably can’t ever be put back together, and you’re just making it worse.”

Bennet stares at Benji as if he’s just slapped him. “I’m making it worse?”

Benji closes his eyes and sighs. “There’s been enough hurt to last us a lifetime. I don’t want to hurt anymore. We’re supposed to be happy right now. This is our happily ever after. We just found our new Daddy, and I don’t want the monster to ruin that too.”

Benjamin looks over his shoulder, but it isn’t me he’s staring at. He’s locked onto Bennet. This isn’t my moment, so I remain silent, watching as a wordless conversation unfolds between them.

“I don’t want him to die,” Benji finally admits to Bennet. “Even though I don’t know what I want them to do with him, I don’t want him to die because of us. I don’t know that I could ever get over that.”

“I know,” Bennet agrees. “I couldn’t live with it, either.” He looks over at me, and it looks like someone’s sucked the fun-loving side out of him. He looks just as wrecked as Benji. “Will you get Tatum and Kincaid? We need to figure out what happens next.”

I stand from my place on the carpet and give them both a decided nod. Taking a note from their books, I just look over my shoulder and call out Tatum’s name.

Bennet arches an eyebrow. “I could have done that.”

I wink at him. “Welcome to my world, little man.”

Thankfully, the quip earns me a smile. The next thing I know, Tatum’s footsteps are clopping down the staircase, then he’s standing beside me. His hand finds mine, and I don’t have the heart to tell him it’s the hand I just used to masturbate onto his ex-boyfriend’s face. Lord knows what kind of psychological trauma that might cause. Ahead of us, Bennet’s got an arm around Benji’s shoulders, and Abi’s standing over them, staring down into the box. He bends over and scoops Benito into his arms. It’s my first time seeing my sons’ tormentor in months. I only met the man once, when Tatum brought them all over for his birthday dinner. He sat in the corner scowling, and the Bens never left his side.

His head is lolled back, and he seems to be unconscious. I don’t know if he’s just pretending, or if he’s passed out from fear. Abi sets him down on the sofa and kneels in front of him, lightly slapping Benito’s face.

“You will cease this silly act, and you will open your eyes. Do not make me get the knife.”

Benito flinches, then he rolls on his side, facing the back of the sofa, sobbing softly.

Listen, I’m a man of conviction, but even I’m not strong enough to watch this. Benito’s formerly muscular body is essentially skin and bones. He’s got bruises on his arms and legs, and all he’s wearing is a tattered diaper. As he pulls his knees to his chest, he wraps his arms around his shins, but winces with pain as he does. Considering he has two rather large bruises on his shins, I shouldn’t be surprised.

Has my Tatum done this? As much as I hate Benito for harming the hearts of men who didn’t deserve it, I hate to see any human suffering this much.

I approach slowly, trying my best not to startle Abi. He’s always reserved around me, but Tatum and the Bens tell me he has a wild side I haven’t seen yet.

“Son,” I say, placing my hand on his back. When he looks up at me, there’s a look of hurt on him I know all too well. It’s the same look I had when Benji first saw Benito in the chest. “It’s enough now. No more.”

Abi clenches his fist. “He does not get to hurt them again. I will not allow it, Dad.”

My heart flutters, because I love the way he calls me dad. “I know, and he won’t. Benjamin and Bennet don’t want this, though.” I stare at Tatum. “Is this what you want? Do you want his blood on your hands?”

“He needs to pay. What can we do with him? We can’t just let him walk away,” Tatum says. He’s pleading with his husband, his hand latched onto Abi’s wrist. “What if he goes to the police?” He takes a step back and shakes his head, holding his hands up as if he’s trying to ward off the inevitable. “Absolutely not. If you don’t kill him, I will.”

Benito whimpers on the sofa. Benji approaches and slowly kneels behind him, resting his hand on the cowering man’s shoulder. The second they connect, Benito’s entire body shakes, and his trembling doesn’t subside.

“What about the agency?” Benji asks, not taking his eyes away from Benito. “Meadows might know what to do with him. Maybe they can keep him there. Kind of like jail, but?—”

“Benjamin,” Abi says. He places a hand on Benji’s back. “The Meadows you know is not the Meadows I know. You’ve yet to see behind the curtain. He’s the most cutthroat killer I’ve ever met. The man would sooner slit this little one’s throat than see him rehabilitated.”

“Nuh-uh,” Benji argues. “He will if I ask him to. He likes Bennet and me. Probably more than he ever liked you, so don’t worry. Just let us handle it.”

Abi snorts a laugh. “If you say so.”

“Dad?” Benji calls out. “Can you call Meadows and ask if he can help? He’ll listen to you. Especially after the way you threatened to beat him up if he didn’t bring me home from work when you were sick.”

Abi arches a brow at me. “You threatened his life?”

“Dang right,” I say, nodding. “And I’ll do it again. No one upsets my boys.” I pull out my phone and unlock the screen. I won’t lie; every time I open my phone and see the image of Benji’s cock with a bead of pre-cum at the tip, it sends my insides spinning. When he asked me to set it as my background, I wasn’t sure why, but I knew my boy needed it, just like he needs me to wear his cum every day. There isn’t a single thing in this world I’d deny either of my boys, so setting his hard cock as my background was the easiest decision I’ve ever made.

I place the call, clearing my throat in case I need to unleash the paternal beast on agent Meadows.

“Meadows,” he answers. His voice comes through as a bark, and it’s enough to startle me, but I don’t let it get to me. “Who the fuck is this?”

The abruptness of his question startles me, but I push past it. “It’s Nathan St. James. Bennet and Benjamin’s . . .” I look at my boys, not sure how to answer at first. Bennet’s consoling our boyfriend with a hug, and the sight of them tangled up in each other makes my heart race. “I’m Bennet and Benjamin’s partner.”

“The Bens,” Meadows says, his voice taking on a cheerful tone. “Are they ready to come back to work? Like I said, the job’s open, whenever they need it.”

“I don’t think they’re quite ready for that.” They never will be, if I have my way. I hate the idea of them working for such a reprehensible corporation. Aside from the moral implications, it can’t be a terribly safe career choice, and keeping them safe is my life’s ambition. Maybe I can talk them into becoming kept men. I’m not hurting for money, and I think I like the idea of them getting to spend their days however they choose. No worries, no stress. Just days of endless slumber and relaxation. With as much heartache as they’ve been handed, I think they deserve that and more. “I’m with Abi Kincaid, actually.”

Meadows sucks in a sharp breath. “He lets you call him Abi?”

“I should hope so. I’m his father-in-law, after all. It’s not as if I’m going to wander around calling him Kincaid.”

“Yeah, but it’s just . . . he’s never let anyone call him that before. Not around me, at least. You must be really special to him, if that’s the case.”

I lock eyes with Abi and give him my warmest smile. “As I said, Abi is my son. I can’t exactly go around calling him Kincaid. It’s terribly formal.”

“Whatever, man. Either way, I think it’s adorable. Good for you, and good for Kincaid. So, if this isn’t about a job, what can I do for you, Nate?”

“We need your help with something. Do you remember Benito?”

“Benito,” he muses softly. “He’s the twink your son shot, right?”

“The one and only—and thank heavens for that. Tatum brought him down from Washington. He wants to get rid of him, but we’re not really sure how to handle it. We thought you might know the best course of action.”

“My area of expertise,” he agrees with a chuckle. “All right, I’m in. What do you want me to do with him? If you want me to kill him and get rid of the body, I’ve got you, but I’m not big on extended periods of torture. I can probably drag it out a few days, but I’m not really in the mood for a months-long session of predator and prey. It takes a lot out of you, emotionally.”

“No, son. We don’t actually want to kill him.” I look up at my Bens, both staring at me with worried expressions. “Do we want Agent Meadows to torture him for a few days?”

Bennet’s contemplating the question, but Benji’s shaking his head emphatically. “No. No more hurt, Dad. I want this over. I want him gone, but I want him to be safe.”

“Well,” Meadows interrupts. “I can always smuggle him into a country that beheads gay people and see how he fairs.”

I cover the receiver with my palm. “Do we want him to smuggle Benito into Saudi Arabia?”

“Why would we do that?” Bennet asks, his brows furrowed.

“They execute homosexuals,” I answer, and to my horror, both of them stare at me like I’ve just threatened to gay bash Benito myself. “I can ask if Meadows can get him into Russia. I don’t think they execute gays there, but from what I hear, it’s an all-around awful experience.”

“Absolutely not!” they say in unison, along with Abi, who’s staring at me like I’ve just threatened to send him back as well.

“No, Dad,” Abi says, shaking his head. “Daddy Putin may have an ass that should be ejaculated onto multiple times daily, but he is a cutthroat killer. I would not send my worst enemy to his barren hellscape.”

“Well, if they don’t like any of those ideas, we could handle it in-house,” Meadows offers.

“What do you mean, in-house?” I ask. Abi’s eyes widen, but I don’t have the chance to ask what the expression is about.

“Ms. Broussard. She handles our more high-tech projects. She does a lot of work with automatons, so she might be able to put his brain in one of her robot husks.”

“Do we want them to remove his brain and place it in a robot?” I ask, but it just earns me a scowl. “That’s a no-go, apparently. What else do you have?”

“She’s working on a serum that can temporarily turn a gay man straight.”

My eyes bulge. “Excuse me?”

“Don’t worry; it isn’t permanent. It only lasts a few days. Well, I suppose if you continuously drugged someone, it could be permanent, but I don’t think she has any plans of making any more of the serum, so they’d end up back over the rainbow at some point, regardless. Honestly, I’m not a fan of it, either. It was a controversial decision to use it to begin with.”

“How is that even—” I shake my head, trying to make sense of what he’s saying. He’s found a cure for homosexuality, but it’s not a disease. It doesn’t need to be eliminated. You can’t just snuff out someone’s sparkle. “Why in the world does a hitman agency need any of this? None of this makes sense, son.”

“We are not simply a hitman agency,” he snaps, sounding offended. “We’re an underground powerhouse. Our fingers are in every pot you can think of.”

Maybe their fingers need to be cut off at the root to stop this madness from spreading. How many other abominations do they produce? How many lives will they ruin along the way?

“That’s disgusting,” I hiss at him. “Who are you to change someone’s sexuality? Who made you God?”

“Emily Broussard. This is her company.”

“Yes, well, I don’t particularly give a damn what this Emily character has to say on the matter, you keep that filthy conversion potion away from my boys. It’s disgraceful.”

Meadows sighs. “Dude, I just work here. I’m literally just laying out your options, I’m not looking to get into a debate about moral authority. Do you want my help or not?”

I sigh, because aside from keeping Benito chained to Tatum’s bed for the rest of his life, we don’t really have another option. “What else do you have?”

“Well, if you don’t want him dead and you don’t want him to suffer, I could always use a new assistant. I’m starting to think the Bens are never coming back, so it’ll be nice to have someone to talk to.”

“The man is a menace, Agent Meadows. The son of Satan himself. He’s abused every boyfriend he’s ever had. He causes heartbreak for sport. You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”

He snorts. “Oh, Mr. St. James. We clearly haven’t been properly introduced. Your little friend might be the devil’s spawn, but I’m Lucifer his goddamn self. Trust me, I can handle a twink with a God complex.”

I look at Bennet, then Benji. “Well, if you’re sure. But I swear on all I hold dear; if he escapes and hurts my boys, I’m coming for you. I’m coming for you, and I’m coming hard.”

Meadows chuckles. “Promises, promises, Daddy. Listen, I’ll head that way in a few. I’ll need to pick up his new uniform on the way.” Uniform? “Can you give me an hour?”

“Yeah. An hour. We’ll see you then.”