The Mercenary and the Mortician (The Silent Hollow #1)

20. Ryan Fairview

Alexa, play: DArkSide - Bring Me The Horizon

I led Cal out of the private part of my home and into the parlor. Jogging down the stairs to the basement, I flicked on the light, instinctively glancing back to make sure Cal was managing the stairs alright with his… parcel.

We passed Theo’s tiny home gym, and I unlocked the heavy steel door that led to the preparation room. I gestured to the stainless steel table in the center of the space, and Cal dumped the corpse on it unceremoniously.

On reflex, I nearly snapped at him to have some respect for the dead. I would never handle a body that way. However, the darkness I had seen in Cal’s eyes when he confronted the man in our foyer was back. I remembered exactly who it was that was on my table and sobered.

Slipping on my lab coat. I offered Cal an apron. He took it from me without comment and slipped it over his head, tying the waist straps around his hips.

He watched me slip on a pair of safety glasses, and I handed him a box of latex gloves. He looked amused but snapped on a pair and pushed his Ray-Bans back on, I assumed in place of eye gear.

I handed him a mask, but he shook his head and pulled up his skull bandana instead.

“What’s all this for? Dude’s dead.” He chuckled.

I sighed. “It’s to protect us. You don’t want someone else’s bodily fluids all over you; you can get sick. Also, I usually work with several chemicals that are harmful to the living, so personal protective equipment and proper hygiene are very important.”

Cal chuckled at the mention of bodily fluids , but he nodded along. I couldn’t tell if he was genuinely listening or just humoring me. It didn’t matter.

I grabbed a pair of straight scissors and got to work unwrapping the body. It was clear that this was not Cal’s first time packaging up a body in this manner. The plastic was folded and taped neatly. The creases were arranged in such a way that any blood or leakage was expertly contained. Not one drop of blood had leaked out, and… there was quite a bit of blood. Once I had the plastic open, I raised a quizzical eyebrow at Cal.

He had done some damage to this man. Honestly, I had seen worse. You process enough car accident victims, and you quickly learn just how delicate the human body is.

However, this was somehow different.

This man wasn’t missing the fingers on his left hand because he had been involved in a workplace accident… It was because the man standing across from me had cut them off while he was still alive.

My own hands began to quiver, and I swallowed, staring across the table at the devastatingly attractive but horrifyingly dangerous man standing across from me.

He flipped up his Ray-Bans so I could see his eyes, and he frowned.

“Hey,” he said softly, his tone full of something that sounded a lot like concern. “What’s wrong, ginger snap?”

He reached across the table and gently took my trembling hand. He rubbed his gloved finger over my knuckles, and I couldn’t tell if it was soothing or disturbing.

“You were going to do this to me,” I breathed, and the uncontrollable quivering intensified.

His brown eyes flooded with remorse, and he slipped around the table to my side. I jerked away from him, but he snatched up my wrists and spun me around to face him.

“Listen to me. I am not going to kill you. I only kill assholes who hurt kids… and whoever my boss puts on his list, but even if he told me to kill you, I wouldn’t, Ryan.”

I tried to pull away again, not liking the way my body was reacting to his proximity.

“I don’t know that!” I exclaimed. “I can’t trust that you’re not going to turn around and murder me one day. I don’t know you at all, and what I do know about you is fucking terrifying.”

He pinched my chin between his gloved fingers and jerked my head back to face him. I found myself suddenly wishing we weren’t wearing masks. I wanted to feel his breath on my lips again like I had earlier in the hallway.

As soon as the thought crossed my mind, my stomach roiled with guilt.

I couldn’t be thinking like this… I wasn’t gay. I had a girlfriend. My body was just reacting inappropriately to how afraid I was like it always did.

“You’re right, Ryan. You don’t know anything about me. There’s a lot more to me than what I’ve shown you. Give me a chance. You might like my other parts.” He said the words like he was teasing, but the burn in his gaze told me he was being serious. He legitimately wanted me to give him a chance… A chance for what exactly, I wasn’t sure.

A friendship?

An illegal business arrangement where I disposed of his bodies for him?

What did this guy fucking want?

“Not sure how I’m supposed to trust the literal devil, ” I snapped.

Suddenly, all the warmth and playfulness disappeared from Cal’s eyes. It was almost like he wasn’t human anymore. Even with his bandana covering his face, I knew I had seriously fucked up.

Abruptly, his fingers were no longer caressing my chin but wrapped around my throat.

“The fuck did you just call me?” he snarled, cocking a fist back. I brought up an arm to block his punch just in time to catch it with my forearm. Pain exploded all the way to my elbow, and I tried to jerk away from him, but he still had me by the throat.

Almost effortlessly, he tossed me against the preparation table. I slammed into it so hard that the corpse of Caleb’s father slid off and tumbled to the floor with a sickening thud.

“Cal, stop!” I growled, pushing up from the table and balancing on the balls of my feet. He was coming at me full tilt, and I ducked to avoid another punch. On my way up, I cut a jab directly to his ribs, and he grunted but didn’t stop coming for me.

“You think I’m the devil, mortuary boy?” he snarled, and a chill crept down my spine. I almost sobbed in frustration as my dick immediately hardened at the terrifying look in his eyes.

He swung at me again, and this time, I wasn’t fast enough; he connected with my cheek so hard it sent me spinning into the table. I braced my palms on the cold stainless steel top and prepared to push myself back up, only to find he had plastered himself to my back.

Cal laced his fingers through my hair and slammed my face down into the surface so hard I shouted in surprise.

He had me bent over and at his mercy. Pressing his mouth against my hair, he allowed his soft lips to tickle the sensitive skin on my ear. His bandana had slipped down, and I shivered as his hot breath caressed the side of my neck.

“I’m not the devil, Ryan Fairview. I’m your fucking god, and you will beg me for forgiveness,” he hissed. Then he bit the wrist of his latex glove on his free hand and ripped it off with a snap.

My head was spinning from being hit in the face so hard. I barely registered it as he snaked his now bare hand around my hips and deftly undid the button to my jeans.

“What the fuck!” I thrashed beneath him, but he pressed his body into me harder, ramming my hip bones into the sharp edge of the table. The blood drained from my face as the sound of my zipper pulling open filled the room.

“Get the fuck off me, what are you doing!?” I snarled, but my protests died in my surgical mask as his massive, rough hand slid down the front of my boxers. I let out a strangled whine as he pulled my stiff cock out under the table.

“Fuck.” He hissed into my ear. Cal wrapped his fingers around me, causing my hips to jerk at the contact. “So hard for me, ginger snap.” He growled as he ran his thumb over my crown. To my horror and humiliation, a bead of pre-cum smeared beneath his touch, and I thrashed again, feeling my hair tear slightly at the follicles beneath his punishing grip.

“Stop,” I groaned as he leisurely pumped his hand up and down my throbbing erection. He didn’t listen. Instead, he ground his hips into my ass and continued to stroke me beneath the table.

“All you’re doing is proving me right! I can’t trust you not to turn on me!” I snapped, though my hips were suddenly rocking of their own accord, and I was panting.

His hand felt so fucking good, and a deep, burning need began to tingle at the base of my spine.

I yelped as he closed his hot mouth around my earlobe. He sucked while simultaneously squeezing and twisting my dick in his hand.

His breath sent a shiver of gooseflesh through my entire body as he exhaled against my ear.

“Just because I won’t kill you doesn’t mean I won’t punish you, Ryan,” he rumbled, and I could only whimper in response. I had lost all sense and was now shamelessly thrusting into his hand.

“Please,” I begged, and he nipped my lobe again, causing me to let out an embarrassingly desperate moan. When was the last time I had come? I couldn’t even fucking remember. Was it supposed to feel this good? It didn’t feel this good when it was my own hand… The few times I had stuffed my dick in some girl, it hadn’t even felt this good…

What was wrong with me?

“Please, what? Let you go? Let you come? Use your words, baby. Tell me what you want.”

“I’m not your baby!” I snarled. “I’m fucking straight, get the fuck off of me!” The unexpected pet name snapped me out of my temporary lapse of insanity, and I struggled to get away from him again.

He squeezed my dick hard enough that it hurt and slammed my head harder into the prep table.

The table scraped against the floor with the force of his administration, and I winced as the legs thudded into the dead man who had fallen to the ground on the other side.

“Straight, hmm? Me too,” he growled into my ear as he increased the pace of his strokes. My traitorous balls zipped up, and he gently ran his fingers over them, his lips curling against my ear in satisfaction.

I thrashed again, losing more hair to his punishing grip as he cupped my balls and danced his fingers deeper under my hips until he was stroking my asshole.

“No, stop… Don’t touch me there,” I groaned, trying to jerk away from his wandering fingers. He didn’t penetrate me, but why was I pressing back into him like I wanted him to?

“I’m so fucking straight, Ryan. I can’t wait to fuck your tight little pussy.”

An alarming thrill rushed through me. Was it fear? Excitement? Apprehension? My cock leaked at his filthy words, and he pulled his hand out of my boxers. He held his palm up to where my face was pressed against the table.

“Spit in my hand,” he ordered. I tried to shake my head, but he snarled. “That wasn’t a request, Ryan. Spit in my fucking hand, or I’ll spit in your perfect mouth.”

Unable to stop myself from moaning again, my cock throbbed and dripped under the table. I could barely think as Cal ground his own rock-hard dick into my ass.

Closing my eyes, I did as he said, spitting into his palm and getting it wet with my saliva. I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or enraged when he wrapped his now slick hand back around me.

He stroked me firmly, his soaked palm gliding smoothly up and down my shaft. My whole body tensed up as I felt my orgasm start to grow at the base of my cock.

My breathing sped up, and I was suddenly panting again.

“That’s it, straight boy. Come for me.”

“No. Fuck you!” I spat, and he chuckled.

“You’re going to come, Ryan; there’s no point in fighting it. You’re going to shoot your load all over that bitch’s corpse, then you’re going to clean it up like the good boy I know you are.”

He was everywhere, all around me. His minty breath was tickling my skin, his hard chest pressed into my back. His hands were in my hair and on my cock. Everything about the way he held me down screamed dominance and ownership.

My whole body was on fire, and I seemed to have lost my ability to form a coherent thought. He was right about one thing; there was no use in fighting it. My body was literally spasming beneath him, but no matter how hard I struggled, he kept up that same relentlessly methodical rhythm,

Up and down, up and down, up and down.

“Cal… please, fuck!” I panted, but he just laughed again and continued to stroke me until my dick swelled in his hand.

“That’s it, baby. Make a mess. Show me how fucking straight you are,” he purred just as everything came to an explosive head.

My cock erupted in his hand, and I choked and groaned as I came and came and came. Hot cum shot from me in spurts. I was glad I couldn’t see the shame of my own release, as I was sure it had hit the dead man who was currently lying on the floor.

Cal continued to stroke me until my balls were completely empty. All the strength left my body, and I slumped weakly against the table. I was too drained to fight when he finally released his grip on my hair. He tugged down my surgical mask, leaving a soft, unwelcome kiss on my lips. I groaned and jerked away from him, but this time he let me.

I stumbled away from the table, clumsily tucking my spent cock back into my pants. He was staring at me without a single hint of amusement on his face, his dark eyes burning with an emotion I didn’t understand.

“Call me that again, and I’ll take your fucking ass next time,” he threatened. He didn’t sound angry, but he didn’t sound like his usual self either. It was like he was dead inside.

I ripped up my zipper with shaking fingers as he watched me cooly. Suddenly, I remembered the ghoulish lady that had attacked me the night before.

‘ Devil boy!’ she had screeched at me. She had said Cal was her son… If that nightmare of a woman was his mother, then who knew what kind of upbringing he had suffered through.

Calling him the devil had clearly triggered him, and I had paid for it with that humiliating handjob.

What the fuck had that been all about?

Cal cut me a cold glare and gestured to the crooked prep table and the mangled body sprawled out on the floor.

“Clean this up,” he ordered, then, without another word, he left.