Chapter 2
Carnage
“I’m bored.”
Whisper chuckles, not taking his eyes off his computer screen. “Yes, it’s boring. It’ll pick up.”
“When?”
“Don’t be a brat, Carn. I’m doing the best I can over here.”
“I know,” I whine.
Turning my attention out the window, I scan the dark streets, hoping the target will pop into view. It’s rare for me to do a job with Whisper, or anyone else really, but this job required both muscle and brain. Obviously, I’m the muscle in this equation.
Whisper put a tracking device on the target a week ago, but he’s still been pretty dicey to corner. Either he knows he’s being followed and he’s doing a good job dodging us, or he’s just that cagey.
So Whisper brought me with him because this dude needs to be taught a lesson before he takes his last breath. He needs to know he didn’t get away with what he did.
Not long ago, none of us would have given a single shit what the target did or why they had to die.
Didn’t matter. We were paid to do a job and we did it.
But when shit went sideways and we found out we’d been paid to take out an innocent guy, our boss, Shadow, pumped the brakes.
We came back stronger, clearer, and knowing that we’re taking out the worst of the worst makes my job that much sweeter.
It lit a new fire under me, and I think it had the same effect on my brothers.
Tonight’s target is one bad dude. My mouth literally waters when I think about what I’m going to do to him when we find him.
We know he moved here a few years ago from New York, where he was run out of town for double crossing the wrong guy, but they didn’t pursue him, so he’s been able to set up shop here in Mistone.
According to Shadow, the target runs a prostitution ring focused on forcing minors and other street kids into his operation.
He drugs them up and lets his high-powered “clients” do whatever they like.
Somehow, he’s been able to avoid criminal charges on more than one occasion, but now someone—whoever hired our team—has had enough.
My guess is on the district attorney or the mayor. Maybe even a prosecutor. Not even those in high places are immune to taking a walk on the dark side.
“Dammit,” Whisper mutters. “He’s going in the opposite direction again.”
“What’s with this dude? He’s gotta know, right?”
“I don’t think so. I think he just has a lot of irons in the fire. Whatever he’s doing tonight took him away from us.”
“So are we going to where he is, or what?”
Whisper shakes his head. “Nah. He’s going back to his home base. Too many people to deal with. We gotta draw him out somewhere alone.”
“How we gonna do that?”
“I’m thinking.” Whisper sighs, rubbing his forehead. He looks tired.
“You okay, man?”
He nods, gazing at me with heavy eyes. “I didn’t sleep well last night. The storm made so much noise, and the tree outside kept slamming into my window.”
“You should’ve gone to one of the guest rooms.”
“I can’t. I’ve tried that before, but I can’t sleep in new places.”
“Oh, that’s right.”
Whisper is a complicated fellow.
My attention shifts out the window again, and down the street as a group of people laughing passes by. They look like they’ve been or are about to be partying.
“Let’s get a drink.”
“Where?”
I shrug. “Follow those people who just walked by.”
We exit the van, lock up, and hurry to catch up with the group I saw. They get in line in front of a club I’ve been at before, Redlight. It’s not the best in the city, not even close, but the drinks are cheap and the ass is plentiful.
“Redlight?” Whisper says. “Isn’t this place pretty shady?”
“Yep.” I wrap my arm around his shoulders, pulling him into me as he grumbles his displeasure. “One drink, then we’ll go. Never know what we might find inside.”
“Yeah, okay. I could use a drink.”
We join the line, and a few minutes later we enter the dark, dingy nightclub.
I used to come here in my younger days looking for cheap hustles.
It’s notorious for having any vice you seek and shady dealings are a dime a dozen.
But they also have hot employees who are always down for a quick hookup.
I could use one of those tonight. It’s been a while.
The club is crowded already, and while not exclusively gay, it attracts the men loving men crowd. Not that I’m picky about gender. Whatever someone’s got, I’m into it, but I’ve noticed my own preferences leaning towards men in the past few years. My sexuality is cloudy, but it works for me.
Whisper and I make our way to the bar, jockeying to get the bartender’s attention. When we finally do, Whisper orders two beers on tap and pays while I linger behind him, checking out the scene. I’m taller than Whisper, taller than a lot of people, which gives me a nice advantage at times.
Whisper hands me my drink and we lean against a column. I bop my head to the heavy electronic music playing, nodding at the few people who make eye contact with me. No one in particular catches my eye though.
“I need to get laid.”
Whisper snorts. “Dry spell?”
“A long one. It’s been, like...” I shrug. “Months.”
“Why?”
“Focus. My last assignment had me low-key obsessed.”
“I heard about that.” He pats my arm. “Felt good to end it, huh?”
“Almost as good as an orgasm.”
We both laugh at that, then Whisper says, “I won’t get in your way if you find someone interesting.”
“Back at ya.”
He shrugs, brushing off the comment. None of us have ever seen Whisper with someone or even heard him talk about a hookup.
He could be celibate or asexual for all we know.
The only hint we’ve had is that he dated a man a long time ago who he loved, but he isn’t around anymore and we don’t know why.
Whisper talks when he wants to and we don’t pry.
Two men close to us start shoving each other, bumping into me and Whisper, but we get between them before the bouncers even have time to react.
I grab one guy by the collar, lifting him off his feet and moving him several feet back from the other guy.
He swings blindly, still aiming at his nemesis, who Whisper is dealing with.
“Beat it. Don’t ruin your night.”
“Fuck you, man,” he slurs, unable to make eye contact with me.
I wrap my hand around the man’s face roughly, holding his gaze. “I said knock it off.”
His eyes focus and fear fills them as he nods quickly.
“Bump into me again and I’ll rip your fucking head off.”
He holds his hands up. “Okay.”
I set him down and he scurries off. When I turn around, Whisper is letting the other man go, and he makes a run for it as well. I crack my neck then resume my position against the column.
“Dumbasses,” Whisper mumbles.
“There’s always some.”
“A hundred percent.”
Sipping my beer, I glance around the bar again, my gaze landing on a man sitting at a table, his eyes trained on me.
He’s got wavy blond hair, cut short with longer bangs that sweep across his forehead, and even in the dim light I can see the glorious cupid’s bow of his lips.
I can’t make out the color of his eyes from here, but I feel the desperation pouring out of them. He needs something. Is he in trouble?
My gaze shifts from him to the people at his table—a rowdy group of men doing shots.
One of them is gripping the arm of the man looking at me.
I watch them, curious as to the dynamics.
After another minute or so, the other men seem distracted by their partying and the cutie slips away unnoticed, his eyes shifting towards the bathroom.
I hand my beer to Whisper. “Be right back.”
As I make my way through the crowd, I keep one eye trained on the table of men, but they haven’t noticed his absence yet. I find the cutie waiting for me in the hall before he steps into the bathroom.
I follow, ducking into the stall with him. His face relaxes as he gazes up at me, his teeth grazing his bottom lip. He’s taller than I thought he’d be, coming up to just above my shoulders, but his body is lithe and soft. Delicious.
“Hi,” he says. His voice is deeper than I expected but still carries a hint of softness to it. “What’s your name?”
“Carnage. What’s yours?”
“Carnage?” He giggles. “That’s different.”
“Mm-hmm. Your name?”
“Rue.”
“Hmm.” I brush my fingers under his chin and his eyelids flutter. “Well, Rue. You got me here. Now what?”
His eyes shift around even though we’re locked in a stall. He glances at the toilet and visibly blanches, putting a little space between him and the stall wall. He’s clearly stressed about something.
“Are you okay?”
Rue inhales and exhales slowly, pressing his hands to my chest. “If you get me out of here, I’ll do anything you want. I just need to go.”
His words startle me, and I push back slightly, studying his now-serious expression. “What? You’re in trouble?”
“Those guys out there… I can’t get away. You looked like someone who could help.”
“What do you mean you can’t—”
The bathroom door slams against the wall. “Rue!”
“Shit.” He tenses against me, motioning for me to be quiet. “What?” he asks the man.
“You’re taking too long. Leon wants you back.”
“It’s been, like, three minutes. Can I take a shit? Jesus.”
“Gross. I’ll be outside the door waiting.”
Rue’s face falls. “Okay.” He rubs his forehead. “I don’t know what I was thinking,” he says after the door closes.
He pushes past me, opens the stall, and hurries out. I’m shook, but I snap out of it just before he opens the bathroom door to leave. I grab his arm.
“Do you need help? Seriously?”
“It’s no use. Sorry. I shouldn’t have involved you.” He pulls his arm away. “I can’t let them see me talking to you. They’ll hurt you. Maybe both of us.”
“Wha—” He hurries out before I can finish.
Oh fuck no.
It takes me a second to react, but when I rush out he’s already being yanked across the bar by some big muscular thug. I head back to Whisper, fired up now.
“Hey. You up for a little trouble?”
Whisper grins. “Always. What’s up?”
“Weirdest interaction, but I think I need to intervene.” I turn in the direction of Rue’s table but it’s empty. My eyes shift to the dance floor but he’s not there either. None of the guys are. “Fuck.”
“What’s going on, Carn?”
I explain everything that happened in the bathroom. “And now they’re gone.”
“Come on. They can’t have left the parking lot yet. That was just a few minutes ago.”
We push our way out of the club and into the parking lot in time to see a beat-up SUV pulling out. Whisper catches the license plate as I power walk my way to it, but they turn onto the street and tear off before I can get close enough.
“Dammit. They’re gonna hurt him. I know it.”
“I got the plate. Let’s see what we can find.”
“I have to find him, Whisper. He reached out to a stranger for help. He’s desperate.”
“I hear ya, man. We’ll find him.”
“His name is Rue, and the guy mentioned someone named Leon, but that’s all I got. I don’t know who he’s with or anything. The fear in his eyes was real though.”
“Think he’s being trafficked?”
“Maybe. Kidnapped for sure.”
“Alright, let’s get to work.”
As soon as we’re back in Whisper’s van, he gets busy typing the plate number into his computer. Whisper can find anyone. While he’s doing that, I open the Murder Buddies chat.
Me: If anyone’s out tonight, keep an eye out for an early model Durango, orange but damaged with black paint scratches. Plate number 438-5TR. Let me know if you get eyes on it and I’ll be there.
Ghost: What’s going on?
Me: Long story. I’ll fill you in later.
Specter: We’ll keep an eye out. What part of town?
Me: The old grain district. Just left Redlight.
Phantom: That shithole? What are you doing there?
Me: Just wanted a drink but something came up.
Nimble: There’s a neighborhood west of there known for housing a lot of drug dealers and scum like that. Maybe they went that way?
Me: Maybe. Seemed more trafficking than drugs but worth a shot.
Nimble: They kind of go together these days it seems.
Stealth: Fucking facts.
Wraith: I’ll be back tomorrow. If I’m needed, I’m there.
A slight smile pulls at my lips. Wraith is out of town with his man on a vacation. An actual fucking vacation. He deserves it though.
Me: Thanks, man. I don’t know the scope of anything yet but I’ll keep you posted.
“Got a hit,” Whisper says. “Leon Nowak.”
“That’s who the plate is registered to?”
“Yep.” He nods, still typing quickly. “Leon has been in prison twice for possession with intent to sell, battery, and stalking. He last got out two years ago and he’s been keeping a low profile since.”
“Anything else?” I ask, leaning over his shoulder.
“We’ll find out.” Whisper picks up his phone and presses the call button after a quick scroll. “Hey, Boone. Got something for you. Leon Nowak. We’re on our way home, but see if you can dig up anything.” He ends the call and closes his laptop. “We’ll find him, Carn.”
Nodding, I blow out a breath and try to chill. I don’t even know this guy, Rue, but I know what fear looks like and that was real. He needs help and he saw that help in me. I can’t let him down.
If there’s one thing that gets my blood boiling, it’s sex crimes. Fighting against that made me the man I am today, and I regret nothing. I won’t sit back and let it happen to someone else when I can intervene.
I’ll find Leon Nowak, and when I do, he’ll wish he was never fucking born.