Miles
Adam O’Brien and Theodore Barbieri are the complete opposite in every single way.
Adam is so pale he could light a room by himself, and his long, thick red hair, falling to below his shoulders—and in need of a good brush—doesn’t help.
Theodore, on the other hand, is a dark-skinned Italian with zero hair and a no-nonsense attitude.
Adam would need something in his brain for him to have an attitude of any kind.
Adam’s sly grin when he spots me makes me wish I’d hit him harder with my car last year. An accident, unfortunately. Next time won’t be.
“Is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?” His Irish accent comes through clearer than it does over the phone, but I also know he changes the thickness on a whim.
I’ve heard him speak in a perfect Australian accent and then other times an Irish accent so thick, no one has any hope of deciphering the words.
Ignoring his ridiculous comment, I bypass him completely and head for where Theodore is standing near a dumpster with a phone to his ear.
“Well?”
Theodore glances at Adam, who’s waving his arms animatedly while he speaks to Xavier and Hunter. “Smells like the handiwork of Roger Vickers, though whether there’s a connection between Hunter’s stalker and him, I can’t say yet.”
Not a name I wanted to hear.
“Left here as a message?” Vickers likes to piss people off as a hobby—among other things—but he never does something for the simple fun of it.
If he killed Casey, it was for a reason.
We should have disposed of him when I wanted to.
Even if he’s not directly involved in Hunter’s issues, this act of aggression has to be answered for. I’ll see to it personally.
“Hard to tell, but it feels deliberate. There are plenty of ways to dispose of a body without getting caught; this isn’t one of them.”
Can’t argue with that. A message, then. “And where is he now?”
“Lauren’s watching him. He’s been at his office all day. You want to have a chat with him?”
“Not yet.” No reason to raise the alarm until I’m ready. “Keep me updated. Do you know if anyone else on our payroll is missing?”
“I checked with Nox, and he said everyone is accounted for as of three a.m. today.”
“Tell him to check again.” I want to be absolutely sure there isn’t a pattern. If it’s only Casey, that adds a tick in the connection column. As if there aren’t already enough.
Heat prickles at the back of my neck, right before Xavier approaches from behind, shoulder ghosting against mine. “Well?”
“Your old friend Vickers is up to his tricks again. Theodore believes this was him. I’m inclined to agree.” There’s a certain brutality to it that most wouldn’t bother with. It takes coordination, effort, and a distinct lack of respect.
Hunter stands close enough to me that I can smell his cologne, with Xavier flanking my opposite side.
The mixture of the two scents is strangely enticing.
They’re nothing alike but blend well together.
If I were into touching, I might want to bury my nose in their necks and take a good smell of it. Maybe get a taste.
Adam joins us a moment later, yanking black latex gloves from his hands. “Bodies are bagged. Body is bagged? Parts of the body are bagged. All of Casey is in a bag. Singular. It’s still one body; he fit in a bag.”
Hunter raises his eyebrows in amusement. “Good to know.”
“I aim to be helpful,” Adam says lightly. “There’s no trauma, bruising, signs of torture or a prolonged death. It was quick and clean, which we can be thankful for. All the cutting-him-up part happened after. It’s a scare tactic, not meant to punish him but us.”
I suppose I could attempt to return the favour and make it quick. “Make sure you speak to his family and then have him transported to a funeral home.” With the state of his body, a car accident is the only plausible way to sweep it under the rug. A better kind of closure for the family than murder.
“I want him taken to my guy,” Hunter says firmly.
He means Maverick, the man who works for Hunter, and owns both a morgue and a funeral home.
Good for any kind of job they need. Not something we need, in this instant.
“We already know who did it.” Any kind of autopsy done is a formality, not a requirement.
It will allow us to smooth the way legally, and that’s all.
If it weren’t possible, we would simply make him disappear.
Doing it this way allows the family to grieve and know.
In terms of our current situation, the finger sent to Hunter doesn’t belong to Casey, and he has specific markings that lead us right to the killer. No need for further investigation down this path.
“All the same, I want him looked at by someone that I trust.”
“It’s unnecessary.” His lack of trust is his problem, not mine. We have our own systems in place for this kind of thing. He can stick to his side, and we’ll stick to ours.
“I wasn’t asking for your opinion.”
Xavier lays a brief hand on my elbow, the lightest touch before retreating. “Take him to Maverick,” he says to Theodore, who nods and looks curiously between us. My face betrays nothing. If I have an issue with Xavier’s orders, I’ll speak to him in private about it.
“Liaise with Six; if Mav finds anything worth our interest”—Hunter glances at me, gaze flashing in challenge—“that you don’t already know, he’ll send word.”
He’s deliberately trying to goad me.
“Hot damn, I’m there,” Adam says with a wolfish grin. “It’s been too long since I’ve seen my favourite sword-wielding agent. Do you think he misses me? He talks about me, right? I know he does.”
“Greer will murder you if you keep flirting with Six, and I won’t do a thing to stop him,” Hunter says mildly. “In fact, I’ll look the other way and provide an airtight alibi.”
“It’s no fun if there’s no danger.” With a wink, Adam heads off, whistling to himself.
Theodore sighs. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t get himself killed and then make sure the body gets to Maverick. Call me if you need anything else.”
“That will be all for now, thank you, Theodore,” Xavier says.
“If you discover anything urgent, tell us immediately.” He doesn’t expect anything new to come from this any more than I do.
It’s a dead end, in a sense. We know who was responsible, and we’ll follow that thread.
Casey has come to an end. Someone will pay for what happened to him, with interest.
Theodore nods and heads in the same direction as Adam, disappearing around the corner, leaving the three of us on the quiet street alone.
Xavier rubs his bottom lip thoughtfully. “I wasn’t expecting that.”
“No.” Vickers seems to emerge like a cockroach, at all the wrong times. It doesn’t sound like our last conversation stuck. “I’ll pay him a visit.” He may even come out of it alive.
“Not yet.”
Xavier has always preferred playing with his prey. I’d rather ensure they don’t have the opportunity to counter. If they’re dead, they’re no longer a threat.
“You know, it’s starting to look like this has more to do with you than me,” Hunter says dryly. “Who is Roger Vickers, exactly?”
“The fact you don’t know surprises me,” Xavier answers.
“I left my clairvoyancy at home. He isn’t someone that’s crossed my path, and I have enough on my plate without chasing trouble. Anyone associated with you, however loosely, is always trouble.”
Xavier runs a hand through his hair. “Would you like to come and have dinner with us? I can explain then.” The invitation holds a lot more weight than his words suggest. The heaviness in the air notches up tenfold.
Hunter visibly swallows, then slowly shakes his head no. “You can explain now.”
“The quick answer is that he’s a rival,” Xavier answers, without pushing further. “The long answer is that he was once a… I wouldn’t call him a friend, exactly, but we had similar business interests that once marginally aligned. Until we didn’t.”
Tactically put. Vickers eventually decided that he didn’t want to share profits and sought to cut Xavier out.
We reacted with severe prejudice, and he’s been out for blood ever since.
He should count himself lucky to still be breathing.
If we find a connection between this murder and Hunter’s “stalker,” then he won’t be.
Hell, I might do the job merely for old times’ sake and to remove the thorn in our side. I’ve killed for less.
“And that has something to do with me how?”
“You can’t honestly think that you’re ever not connected to me, love,” Xavier says, giving Hunter a look that is simultaneously full of heat and derision. “You forget you still carry my name.”
Hunter rubs his forehead. “You think this ‘rival’ of yours somehow found out that we’re married and now has it in for me? If they wanted to come for you, they simply could.”
“Could they?” Xavier asks mildly. He steps forward and grasps Hunter’s chin gently, tipping his head up. “I’m not so easy to hunt. I have only one weakness.” He leans forward, brushing their lips together. “Only one thing in the world that can be used against me.”
Hunter’s breath hitches, and he sways into him.
Xavier slants their mouths together, tightening his hold.
The polite thing to do would be to look away and give them some privacy.
I don’t. It’s impossible to ignore their chemistry, the electricity sparking between them, when they’re like this.
It’s always been like this, not fading in the all the years since their marriage ended.
Not even their disastrous fallout could destroy this part.
Hunter lets out a small whimper that makes my gut clench, and he leans further into Xavier, grasping the sides of his jacket, knuckles going white.
“Come home with us.” Xavier whispers his mouth across Hunter’s jaw. “Let me hold you.” Knuckles brush over the spot where his lips travelled. “Everything makes sense when you let me in.”
Hunter wrenches himself away and takes a few large steps back. His chest heaves, hands clenched into fists at his sides. “You can’t just—we can’t just ignore our entire history, Xavier. We can’t keep doing this.”
“No,” Xavier agrees. “I want to move forwards, Hunter. Not backwards. There’s nothing there but fire and pain. What I want now, with you, is so much more than that.”
“How could you ever think that’s possible?
How could we—” Hunter wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
“This ends here,” he says firmly, though his gaze wavers when he glances at me.
“I can’t do it anymore. You drag me in, and I can’t resist you, and it just hurts all over again.
You destroyed me once, and I won’t allow you to do it again. ”
“I never meant to hurt you.”
“That’s bullshit,” Hunter spits. “What did you think you were doing when you came waltzing into my life with your pretty lies and false devotion?”
“My devotion to you has never been false.” There’s an underlying danger to his tone, like he’ll become unpleasant if Hunter continues down this path.
He’s never responded well to anyone questioning what he feels for Hunter, not even the man himself.
There are many things in our life that are tainted; this isn’t one of them.
“Your words mean nothing, Xavier. They’re meaningless. Because in the end, they’re always false. You say all the right things, and they’re nothing but poison, used to manipulate me into whatever position fits you best.”
Xavier visibly swallows and doesn’t respond.
Hunter lets out a low growl, and then he’s back by Xavier’s side, mouths slamming together violently. Xavier doesn’t fight the hold, allowing Hunter to take whatever he wants. A mistake. Hunter will take everything, and Xavier won’t ever think to save a piece of himself. To save himself, period.
“I hate you,” Hunter whispers harshly, dragging Xavier back in.
“I hate you so fucking much.” He wraps his hands around Xavier’s throat, and I move to their side, ready to intervene if needed.
For the moment, he’s holding him loosely, but the threat is there, and I won’t allow it to go further than this.
Xavier cradles the back of his head, surrendering everything. Hunter will always be his greatest vulnerability. The only man in the world capable of breaking him into a thousand pieces. No matter how I try, I’ll never be able to protect him from that. Can never guard him against it.
Hunter pulls his mouth from Xavier’s, pressing their foreheads together, his eyes closed. “I hate how much I need you. You’re in my blood, and if I thought it would do anything, I would bleed myself dry just to be rid of you.”
And then he’s gone.
Neither of us speaks a word as Hunter gets into his car and speeds away, breaking more than a few laws, I’m sure.
“Miles.”
He relaxes imperceptibly when I place a gloved hand on his shoulder.
“What do you need?” Whatever it is, I’ll give it to you.
If he asked me right now to touch him, let him hold me, I would do it.
My own discomfort is meaningless when he’s in this state.
Whatever distance between him and Hunter that allowed him to maintain the illusion of being whole is gone.
Hunter being so obviously in the crossfire has changed everything.
“I wish to return to my office,” he replies calmly, slowly drawing his shields back up around himself. “Roger has many things to answer for. No one comes for what’s mine without dire consequences.”
“As you wish.”