Clay
CLAY
Barely twenty-four hours in Port Dale, and could already feel himself growing restless. Sitting outside some small oceanside bar, watching the sunset give way to twilight, he found his mind whirling. He’d hoped finding those parts of the city filled with life and energy would be enough to distract him.
It had worked before. He needed only to find the noisiest places, usually filled with plenty of drunk and horny people, and he could lose himself for a while. wasn’t one for getting drunk, even on his off time, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t averse to having a little fun. And if he felt lost and maybe that irritating emotion known as loneliness, he would take someone to bed with him.
But as he stared over the bar’s outside deck area railing, he wasn’t in the mood for fun. He could hear the sounds of traffic from the other side of the bar. The bar owner hadn’t chosen the best location for a hot spot. It was too far away from the clubs and popular restaurants and closer to the industrial area. Still, while looking out on the water as it lapped against the rocks a few feet below him, would admit it was a beautiful location.
Still, his mind would not rest, and he could feel an itch deep within his soul. Sometimes, his mind tried to force him to deal with the past, to wonder what could have been, what might have been. Those were the times when he grew restless and began to lose the cool composure he relied on so much in his life. The last thing he needed was to start thinking too heavily about the past or future.
Sighing, he pulled out his new phone and messaged Fate with their agreed code. It was his signal that not only was he ready for a new contract, but she would have a means of contacting him. Fate would know it was sooner than usual for , but there would be no questions. There never were.
A shadow spread over the deck from behind him. “Oh, sorry.”
turned, looking at what was perhaps the biggest human being he’d ever seen. Not only that, but he was built like a tank. Almost immediately, pegged him as a military man. Not just because of his sheer size or the way he kept his blond hair buzzed close to his skull, but knew there was a base nearby, and the soldiers regularly came to Port Dale for a bit of relaxation.
“Didn’t realize someone else was out here,” the man continued.
looked him over, impressed by his sheer bulk. “Well, it’s a public bar, no need to be sorry.”
The man snorted, raising his beer. “True. Don’t know a lot of people here, so I come here when I want to have a drink and some quiet without being stuck in my house.”
“So it’s always like this then,” said, glancing back toward the empty bar.
“Pretty much. Don’t know how they stay in business, but maybe I only come at the dead times. I take it you don’t mind if I join you?”
“It’s a whole deck with plenty of room. I’m not going to stop you,” said.
“Yeah, but you’re at my table.”
blinked down at the corner table he was sitting at, raising a brow. “I am, huh?”
The man chuckled. “Yep. See, I like that spot for a lot of reasons. For one, it has the best view. And it also lets me keep an eye on the door.”
snorted. Those were the reasons he’d chosen his seat. “I’m not giving up the seat, but you can share the table.”
“I can agree to those terms.”
watched the man pull out the chair opposite and sit down with considerably more grace than he expected from someone that size. His biceps grew as he tilted his beer bottle to take a drink, and found himself going from impressed to more than a little intrigued. He always preferred bed partners who were considerably larger than him. Considering his skill set, he was never in danger if someone tried to get aggressive, but he liked them big and rough. wasn’t going to assume the man across from him was interested in anything more than the view and maybe some conversation, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t look.
“I’m Elliot,” the man said.
“Well, good evening, Elliot, I’m .”
“Hope I’m not interrupting.”
shrugged lightly. “Nothing to interrupt. I’ve just been sitting here, watching the sunset, and having a drink.”
Elliot turned to the glowing horizon. “It’s almost my favorite part of the day. I love twilight.”
“Funny, most people like the dawn,” said.
Elliot chuckled. “Probably why there are so many poems about it. But that’s when the world is waking up, coming to life. I like it better when I can feel the world calming down, maybe even going to sleep soon.”
glanced over his shoulder toward the buildings towering above the bar's roof. “If you ignore all the people coming out to party and start trouble, that is.”
“True, it does take a bit of imagination. But when I was really little, I lived on a farm with my mom and grandpa. Sometimes, my mom and I would sit out back, look out at the woods behind the house, and watch the sun go down. I was little enough that I thought the fireflies were stars that lived down here,” Elliot explained, eyes still on the ocean.
What was it about quiet bars that brought out the nostalgia and intimate conversation between strangers? had been all over the world, and it was always the same. As soon as he allowed some strange man or woman to approach him, they wanted to wax lyrical about their childhood memories or current views on life.
Elliot glanced at him, grimacing. “Sorry, didn’t mean to dump on you.”
shrugged. “No offense taken. Not really much I can share in return.”
“No happy childhood memories?”
“Not really.”
His dad had been a thug, some low-level crony who was kept around for his strength and cruelty. That same meanness found its way home, with and his mother on the receiving end. It wasn’t like his mother had been a whole lot better. She’d been intent on avoiding the worst parts of her life, even if it required large amounts of alcohol or drugs. His only saving grace had been the old lady who’d lived in the apartment across from them. She had been there for through so many of the hard times in his younger years.
Until she wasn’t.
“That’s a shame. I lost my mom when I was eight, car accident. My grandpa went a year earlier from a tumor they didn’t find until he was a few months from dying. But even then, I got to have a few good memories to carry with me about them,” Elliot said.
had good memories but wasn’t in the business of sharing them. His past was his own, and he’d never found himself in the mood to share. Plus, it seemed like Elliot was in a good enough mood to share his own story. Strangely, it was nice to hear about someone else’s life, especially one thrown out into the world before puberty. It was by no means an excuse for to spill his guts, but he could appreciate the story all the same.
Elliot chuckled. “My sister would give me so much shit if she knew I was chatting up a stranger. She always told me I talk too much to strangers.”
smiled at that. “Sometimes strangers are the best people you can talk to.”
“Says the man who hasn’t shared anything at all,” Elliot said, eyeing him.
sighed, knowing that at some point, he was going to regret this. “I had a shit childhood. Mean Dad, deadbeat Mom, and the people who took me in after my parents died weren’t exactly what you’d call good people either. You seem in a good mood, and I don’t see the point in bringing it down by talking about my miserable childhood.”
Elliot watched him for a moment. “Fair enough. Everyone has things they don’t like to talk about and shouldn’t. Better to talk about what you do for a living?”
“Consulting,” lied.
“Oh? Independent work then.”
“Yeah, I deal with security systems.”
It wasn’t a complete lie. A lot of his work did have to do with security systems and protocols. However, his job was to get around those things.
Elliot grinned. “Well, would you look at that, a little providence to go with the day. I’m in the security field as well.”
prepared to have to elaborate on his cover job. “Oh? No offense, but you don’t look like the sort to be in security.”
Elliot patted his chest. “Yeah, I know, I look like I should be the muscle. Which is exactly why that’s what I am. I offer my protection services to people in need of help.”
“So, a bodyguard,” said.
“A glorified bodyguard,” Elliot corrected.
cracked a smile again. He could appreciate anyone willing to take a jab at themselves. There was a fine line between self-deprecating humor and self-denigration, but the cocky smirk on Elliot’s face told he wasn’t about to get a ‘woe is me’ follow-up.
“My apologies, a glorified bodyguard then,” said.
“And one who got himself a new contract today, so here I am, celebrating,” Elliot told him.
snorted. “You come to a little bar with hardly anyone in it, and that’s celebrating?”
“Eh, you grow to appreciate the peace and quiet when you get a little older.”
“You can’t be much more than twenty-five,” guessed, undershooting by a few years.
“Even when I was twenty-five, people thought I was five years older. I’m thirty-four,” Elliot told him.
raised a brow. “Thirty-four? Never would’ve guessed. And running your own business? I know a few people who say you should at least wait until a respectable, responsible age before going into business on your own. Say...fifty.”
Elliot snorted. “Oh, everyone’s always talking about how dangerous and how big a gamble opening your own business is, but it can’t be any worse than being shot at. And how’d you know I was independent?”
“Between you getting excited at meeting an independent contractor and your comment about you offering people protection services, I kind of guessed,” said.
“Someone pays attention,” Elliot said, approval in his voice.
“Just like someone who likes to sit in the corner of a room or outer deck pays attention,” shot back.
Elliot gave him another grin. “A man who really pays attention, consider me doubly impressed.”
As restless and unnerved as he’d felt before Elliot showed up, was beginning to enjoy himself. Through their brief conversation, Elliot had managed to paint a picture of himself as both an enduring and unflappable person. had met many of each type, and overlap between the two didn’t happen often. Either the enduring person also happened to be insufferable, picking at their emotional wounds like a scab, or the unflappable type had been the sort who had yet to meet something that tested them.
A buzz in his pocket brought him back to reality. The warmth of pleasant conversation with a good-looking stranger evaporated as he pulled his phone out. Sure enough, it was a message from Fate, with the returning phrase she used when she had a set of jobs for him to pick from. There was an added tag at the bottom telling him it was urgent.
“And just like that, the real world comes in and steals our friendly moment,” said, sliding his phone back into his pocket and standing up.
“Work-related?” Elliot asked.
“No rest for the wicked,” said.
Elliot snorted. “From what I’ve seen, they don’t want to rest.”
No, perhaps not, but that’s why there were people like skulking about in the world.
“Thank you for the company, Elliot. Didn’t realize idle chit-chat about childhoods and work was what I needed,” told him truthfully.
“Yeah, maybe I’ll see you around here again.”
“Maybe you will,” said, lying for the third time.
He never stayed in one place.
* * *
Returning to his rented room, closed the door behind him. Pulling his phone out, he stared at the number and sighed. In truth, if he hadn’t been interrupted, he would have eventually tested the waters to see just where he could get with Elliot. The man had been big, tough from the sounds of it, and incredibly handsome. certainly wouldn’t have minded a chance to find out if Elliot were also the type to pin someone to the nearest surface and fuck them silly.
The phone rang after he hit the speed dial, followed by Fate’s clipped voice. “Good evening. Back on the clock earlier than I expected.”
raised a brow. Since when did Fate even care if he was or wasn’t on the clock?
“I was overcome with a sudden need to keep busy,” said, pocketing his room key.
“Fortunate for us then. I believe I have something right up your alley.”
Strange phrasing, but even stranger was the use of the singular.
“One thing? We talked about this, Fate. I prefer to pick my targets.”
“In this, there was only one, and I claimed it on your behalf before someone else grabbed it. Quite a lucrative one. The client is paying double your normal fee.”
frowned. “You chose it for me?”
“As I said, it’s right up your alley.”
“Since when do I have an alley?” asked.
He could swear he heard a smile in her voice. “No one at the Agency will pay attention to anything save your success rate. As your handler, I notice patterns where others ignore them. That includes your particular...taste in targets.”
Fair enough, unnerving, but fair.
“And what makes you think this new target you’ve chosen for me fits that bill?” asked, fishing one of his laptops out of the bag on his bed.
“It’s a man who needs to die and, by all accounts, deserves it in every way.”
opened his computer, booting up the secure program to see the files. He didn’t like that Fate was aware of his proclivities regarding his targets. The Agency frowned on choosy agents, and if they saw his habits, they might also get the wrong ideas. The last thing he needed was for someone to think he’d developed a bleeding heart. Not that it should matter all that much, in his opinion, it wasn’t like he didn’t do the jobs he took.
“The files I’m sure you’ll want to look at are still coming in, so you might not see them yet. However, based on what we do have, I think you’ll like, or rather not like, what you see,” Fate continued.
grunted as the file popped up. “Already, this is more information than we normally get. Just what sort of client are we dealing with here?”
“One who would prefer to remain anonymous. And one who means business. He wanted the best, and even when we presented the price for the best, he offered double.”
It wasn’t unheard of in ’s experience. Through the fifteen years he’d worked for the Agency, he’d witnessed clients who paid far more than the standard prices. Those were usually given priority over any other job that might come in and passed along only to the best agents available.
His eyes flicked up to the date on the file, and he frowned. “This is not a new assignment.”
“No, it’s not. The target lives in a high-population area and is constantly watched. There are very few opportunities to get close to the target, and apparently, he has already been alerted that his life is in danger. That will make him more cautious, and we can’t afford to have any screw-ups. I didn’t keep this one just because it fits your standard but because we need someone we can trust,” Fate told him.
“I’m touched, Fate,” muttered as he reviewed the information.
“Don’t be. I rely on facts and figures, and you are the best fit for this job.”
kept his snort to himself but smirked as he scrolled past the picture of the smirking target and onto the city. “Port Dale.”
“Another reason I wanted this one for you. Though I can’t be certain, you’ve never liked telling anyone where you are between jobs, but I assumed you hadn’t gone far from the last target’s location and were reasonably close to this one.”
Close enough that he could take a bus to where the target worked and then a taxi to where the man lived. didn’t believe in destiny or any intelligent, purposeful higher power. That didn’t mean he didn’t occasionally see the odd coincidences in life and find himself wondering.
“I’m reasonably sure I can make that distance without assistance,” told her, setting the laptop aside.
“Then you’ll accept?”
“Is there a time limit?”
“The client didn’t specify. However, I imagine the client would prefer it as soon as possible.”
“Of course. I accept. I’ll be in touch.”
He ended the call with a tap of his finger on the phone’s screen. His decision to put himself up for another contract had been a whim, or more accurately, a desire to escape his thoughts. His mind drifted back to the absurdly friendly yet interesting man he’d met at the bar. Again, he found himself amused at the way the universe worked. Distracting him from his thoughts with someone interesting, only for his impulsiveness to take that distraction away.
God save him, he was thirty years old, and the back and forth was getting wearing. Hell, it had been exhausting for as long as he could remember. It didn’t stop him from continuing, but sometimes, just sometimes, he wondered if there was ever an end to the road.
His eyes fell on the computer screen, and he grunted. “Well, Anthony Howell, I hope you’ve made your peace with God.”