7
CHRIS
He waited on the busy street while sipping iced tea. Coffee was usually his beverage of choice, but combining caffeine with his anxiety could have caused him to combust.
It was almost six, and Jay was on his way. This morning, they had eaten breakfast together and left at the same time, Chris in his car and Jay on his bike. After they finish with Oscar, they would head back to Chris’s house, where he would prepare Italian food based on a recipe he’d gotten from Anthony. Maintaining order in his day helped him feel almost normal, but the feeling was fragile, and more than a little fake.
“Yo.” Jay came over, wearing his signature leather jacket that had enough zippers to make a metal detector explode.
Chris threw his empty cup in the trash and asked, “How was your day?”
Jay chuckled. “Splendid, darling.”
Chris managed a smile. “Ready to go inside?”
“Are you?”
He didn’t feel that he was ready to face the club again, but if Oscar could help, Chris would have met him in the middle of a volcano. “I’m ready.”
They entered the building and walked to the service elevator on the side of the wide lobby. Chris pressed on the fifth and tenth floors simultaneously, which was the only way to reach The Gentlemen’s Club on the top floor. Once the elevator stopped, they got out into the familiar red-lighted hallway. Memories rushed through Chris’s head. That chapter of his life had tested his morals and beliefs, almost costing him Anthony.
Since Oscar expected their arrival, they were directed to room number three on the second floor. It was still early, so no club members were currently there. Chris noticed that the tables were arranged differently, with more space between them. The classical music had been replaced with upbeat 80s songs. Oscar had begun making changes now that Tobias was out of the picture.
They reached the door and knocked. It was the same room where Jay and Chris had met Oscar and Tobias during their last visit, when Chris had been pretending to be a toy. He shivered from remembering how he’d allowed himself to be degraded, but—like now—he had been desperate.
The door slid open, revealing Oscar sitting on one of the two couches with a glass of wine in his hand, wearing one of his many white suits. Chris had rarely seen him without a drink, although he could hold on to the same one for a long time like a prop.
“You brought Jay too!” Oscar called in delight. “Is my friend Ethan here as well?”
“No,” Chris said.
“Oh. Next time, then. Come, sit. You two are bound to be the most interesting people I’ll meet all evening.” He winked at Chris. “And the most handsome.”
They sat on the couch facing Oscar. Outside the window, the city was a wide map of skyscrapers, the sun casting long shadows.
“Thanks for agreeing to see me,” Chris said.
“Oh, none of that. I would have been more than happy to see you even without Mickey’s dramatic phone call. So, how have you two been doing since we last met? I hope you don’t feel bad about the way things ended with Tobias. The man was dying anyway.”
Chris frowned. “He was?”
“Well, aren’t we all dying in a way?”
“We don’t feel bad about what happened,” Jay said flatly. “It was his choice to be a psychopath.”
“True, very true. Although I do find myself missing his company more than I thought I would. Anyway, what is this life-and-death situation Mickey mentioned? You know I’m a fan of good drama.”
Once more, Chris found himself briefly going over his history with the Mitchells, then about the twisted inheritance and his adopted brothers’ threat. He kept to the facts, giving all the details and leaving emotions out of the story.
Oscar’s features grew more somber the more Chris spoke, and when he finished, Oscar turned to Jay. “Are you with him around the clock?”
“Only mornings and nights because I have to help my brother at the garage.” He glanced at Chris. “After the call from Trevor yesterday, I was thinking—”
“No.” Chris shook his head. “I can’t let you stay with me around the clock.”
“Why the hell not?” Oscar placed his glass on the table.
“They won’t try anything while I’m at work. Trevor isn’t stupid.”
“But he is desperate, isn’t he? The line between desperation and stupidity is thin and fragile.”
“You’re right,” Jay said, “but after hearing Trevor yesterday, I don't think he’s that desperate yet. He’s clever enough to take things slow and careful.”
Oscar massaged his chin. “Well, I guess that’s something. You said that Mickey is looking into the will?”
“Yes, but I’m not optimistic.”
Oscar nodded. “Wills are indeed tricky. Tobias didn’t leave one, nor did he have a next of kin. Mickey is helping me get hold of his assets since I was his loyal partner and friend for years. I will donate some of the money to charity, of course, for karma’s sake. I’m thinking of someplace with puppies. Or dolphins.”
Jay cleared his throat. “Back to topic...”
“Yes, of course.” Oscar sat straighter as if about to make an announcement. “In my opinion, Chris must be protected around the clock like the precious flower that he is, at least until we know more about the will. If this man, Trevor, is as clever as you claim, he might find a way to get to him even during the day. Hell, that’s what I would’ve done. I also agree that Jay can’t become a full-time bodyguard.”
“Can you help us with that?” Jay asked.
“I can, and I shall.” He took out his phone and texted someone. “Where do you live?” he asked Chris.
“White Plains.”
“A lovely place, but quite far. Do you commute to the city every day?”
“Yes. I like to drive. I listen to podcasts.”
Oscar made a face. “Dreadful.”
Jay smirked.
“Does your wife know what’s going on?”
“No. She’s staying with our kids at her parents’ place.”
“Good. Keep them away from this. If I were Trevor, I’d consider using them as bargaining chips.”
Chris felt nauseous, but he needed to hear these things—to stare reality in its ugly face.
Oscar pressed a button on the side of the couch at the sound of a knock on the door. Chris craned his head, his stomach clenching at the sight of Dima walking shirtless inside, his smooth and broad chest glittering. He paused when he saw Chris and Jay.
“Join us.” Oscar tapped the seat next to him.
Dima sat down, sending daggers with his eyes, his shoulders tense.
“Dima, I’m sure you remember our good friends, Chris and Jay.”
“They are not friends.”
“Fucking brilliant,” Jay said. “You turned this shithead into a toy?”
“Heaven’s no! Dima would bite the members’ cocks off. But since he is part of the club, I’ve decided that he should contribute to the entertainment. It’s quite harmless, really. Nothing below the waistline. Let’s be honest, what else is he using his muscles for?”
“Fair point.” Jay crossed his legs, smiling broadly at Dima’s nasty glare, but Chris was too nervous to enjoy any of this.
Oscar placed his palm on Dima’s bouncing leg. “He’s not a fan of his new position, but he has learned to accept it.”
This did not look like a man who accepted anything, Chris thought.
“We also treat the toys much nicer than before,” Oscar said proudly. “Would you mind asking Anthony if he—”
“No,” Chris and Jay said together.
“Well, it was worth a shot. Dima, Mr. Roberts is in trouble, and he needs our help. His life is in great danger.”
“Good.”
“Shut up and listen. His two adopted brothers are after the money he has recently inherited. He doesn’t want that money, but he can’t get rid of it quite yet. Until he finds a legal way to solve this predicament, he requires protection. Jay is doing his part, but he can’t be with Chris around the clock. You will help with that.”
Oh God.
“Me? But I hate him!”
“You are not being asked to be his sweetheart. You will simply keep him safe when Jay’s working during the day. I’ll speak with Mickey to give you access to all the relevant floors. Chris, please get Dima photos of your horrible brothers so he can identify them and may or may not break their necks.”
Dima raised an eyebrow. “You want me to break their necks?”
“Well, what else are you supposed to do if they try anything? Leave the legal mess to Mickey and me.”
Chris felt lightheaded, yet a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. For years, he had faced the Mitchells alone, outnumbered and outmatched. Now, he was raising a small and deadly army, making it finally possible to end this bloody war.
“Good point about the brothers’ photos,” Jay said. “I’ll also need to see those.”
Chris nodded. “Okay, I’ll look.”
“How long will I need to help him?” Dima grumbled.
“Until I tell you otherwise. Look at the bright side; you’ll get a break from the club and your new fans.”
Dima nodded thoughtfully. “This I like.”
Chris told Oscar, “Not to sound ungrateful, but is there anyone else we might use?”
Dima snorted. “You think you can find someone better?”
“He doesn’t.” Jay turned to Chris. “I know what he did to Anthony and to you, but I’ve seen him fight. It will be wise to have him watching your back.” He asked Oscar, “When can he start?”
“He can meet Chris tomorrow morning at his office. I will speak with Mickey by then.”
“Okay. I think we’re done here.”
Chris let out a breath, telling himself that despite needing to deal with Dima, he’d gotten what he needed the most—protection. “Thank you, Oscar.”
“Of course, darling. There’s too much ugly in the world. Us handsome men must look after each other.”
Dima grunted.