Captured (Crosshairs book two) Chapter 2
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Content Warning: This story contains depictions of violence, death, drug & alcohol use, explicit sex, and profane language. Reader has been advised.
Summary:
Ever since the shootout that nearly took their lives, Nico Spadaro is determined to ensure Rei’s safety by keeping the down-on-his-luck young man as far away from him and the club as possible. The same gentlemen’s club he’s failing to run since his former partner’s betrayal. However, things take a turn for the worse when Rei is abducted by Nico’s enemies as collateral. The demand: his life for Nico’s livelihood…
Just when Rei Evans thought things in his life couldn’t get any worse, he’s abducted and taken across the border by vengeful cartel members whose goal is to eliminate Nico and take over Sapphire.
With both of their lives on the line, will Nico risk everything he’d worked for to save Rei in time? Or will Rei throw a wrench in their plans by making the ultimate sacrifice?
Table of Contents:
Chapter 2
“Did you have to be so ugly about it?”
Nico ignored Max’s disgusted voice as he slumped into his seat. He’d been talking with the former hacktivist when Rose had come in, with Rei of all people.
He hadn’t expected to see him anytime soon.
Certainly hadn’t prepared for the visit, either. Not only did Nico look like shit, he felt like it, too. But that had been the story of his life since Gabriel’s departure.
“I’m not like him,” Nico spat, reaching for the cigarettes tucked into his jacket pocket and slipping the pale stick between his teeth. He never smoked in his work office, but Rei insinuating that he was a cold-blooded murderer left him seething. Memories of the things he saw in his childhood—things that no kid should ever witness—and the outlandish accounts he’d overheard of the numerous hits his grandfather and father had made in their years ruling as mafia bosses, ordering gruesome executions on their rivals, police, and even their families, all to protect their status, haunted him. They’d shown no mercy, and nothing or no one had been off-limits, whether it be pregnant spouses or a bus filled with innocent bystanders.
The thought that he was anything like those men was worse than an insult.
“Of course you’re not,” Max replied. “Anyone who truly knows you knows this. The poor sod just wants his job back. Cut him some slack. Though I can’t imagine why he’d be so offended, seeing as how you just offered to throw money at him to go away like some puttana you want to get rid of. Ma, che sei grullo?“
Nico blew out a cloud of white smoke and rubbed his eyes. Come to think of it, Rei had looked as tired as he felt. “It’s for the best. After everything that went down, getting too close to me is dangerous for him. That can’t happen again.” He could’ve died … Nico clutched the arm of his chair as he vividly replayed the events of that cold early morning in his mind. He’d done a good job of letting his anger take the lead upon discovering the younger man had followed him, but his heart had been pounding with fear and worry. Getting Rei to safety had unwittingly become his top priority, and damn if that hadn’t hindered him. Gabriel should have been dead. And Rei should not have become one of the few people in his life whose death would affect him.
“Besides,” Nico continued, unwilling to look too deep into why that might be, “I have a lot on my plate right now, and I don’t need any distractions. Porca miseria …“ A dark chuckle escaped Nico’s lips. “I took for granted just how efficient Gabriel was as manager. I can’t keep up with all the paperwork, the orders, the deals, the emails, the inventory—both for the club and for the trades—as well as manage the girls and the staff on an individual level.” Not only was he not sleeping and working a ridiculous amount of overtime, but he couldn’t recall his last fuck, and that release was growing more demanding with each passing day. “There’s no time for anything else, least of all tracking down Novikov.”
Max sighed. “You know we’re doing everything we can to locate any clues on his whereabouts. In the meantime, why not find another capable manager?”
Nico shook his head as he put out his cigarette on the legal pad even though Max couldn’t see him. “I won’t risk it.” He would never let anyone get that close to him again. He couldn’t expose the club’s information for a second time.
“You could give the job to Rei by way of apology.”
“A fanabla.“
Max chuckled. “All jokes aside, everything that happened that day, you have to remember, is partially due to you as well. Gabriel was your friend and confidant, and because both you and I failed to realize who he truly was, Rei suffered at his hands. You have to take some accountability here, Nico. Make it up to him. At the very least, give him some proper severance pay.”
Nico raked a hand through his hair. “You’re right.” After everything Gabriel put Rei through, some of which Nico felt responsible for, he owed it to him to send him off taken care of. His mind made up, Nico ended his conversation with Max. He scrolled through his phone’s contacts until he landed on Gabriel’s name. Dark thoughts clouded his mind as he envisioned the blond and the last two years. Unlike Rei, Nico knew he hadn’t succumbed to his injuries. No, his former assistant was out there somewhere, recuperating, formulating a plan, and biding his time before he put things into action. It was a gut feeling, and Nico was hardly ever wrong about those.
When would he strike? Nico wondered. Not that it mattered. He had to make sure he was prepared for the inevitable. More importantly, he had to do whatever it took to ensure that Rei wasn’t in the line of fire this time.
* * *
Rubén wanted to be somewhere else.
Even though he was standing in the courtyard of his massive Colonial style mansion in Tepeyac—El Rancho, or The Ranch, as it was affectionately called—its manicured grounds lush and verdant, normally odoriferous with the sweet scent of earth mixed with chocolate cosmos and Lyreleaf greeneyes that he could no longer smell, his dream home that had been updated and expanded three times in the two decades since becoming its owner, he stared past it all. Past his acres-wide marijuana farm and the Sierra de Guadelupe mountains off in the distance. Like this, he imagined he could see all of la provincia.
He imagined what he could be doing right now: enjoying a seasonal performance at Bellas Artes or strolling through Casa Azul once more. He always spotted something new he’d missed each time. Perhaps some shopping at Masaryk followed by dinner in Condesa, someplace with a view, before finally a visit to Museo Soumaya to admire the masterpieces of Rodin and Rivera.
Instead, he stood in his courtyard, the pained grunts of two men bringing him back to his present moment.
With a heavy sigh, Rubén faced them, two Mexican men, thick in stature and quite young, at least under thirty, kneeling on the ground, the blood from their beaten and swollen faces staining the imported brick he’d had put in ten years ago. These men, unsurprisingly, had not been with him that long, so they would have no memory of just how shitty the original brick had looked.
If they did, they’d know better than to bleed all over the grounds.
Two men stood at their backs, their AK-47s aimed and ready to eliminate the younger ones at a single command from Rubén. These two were much older, hardened, and more loyal. Yet Rubén blamed them for the bloody mess they’d made.
Clearing his throat, Rubén faced the young man to his left. “Repeat what you just said. Exactly as you said it. Do not change a single word if you want to live.”
The man’s one good eye widened. His voice shook as he repeated, “Haz patria, mata a un Chilango.“
Be patriotic, kill a Chilango.
Rubén chuckled at the popular saying used to mock Mexico City residents, colloquially known as Chilangos. As a proud Chilango, Rubén could take the insult in stride.
Usually.
He turned to the man on his right, this one worse off, a gruesome cut below his eye open to the bone, the skin unflapped and bleeding, staining the front of his white shirt a vibrant red, like the color of Rubén’s dahlias. His mouth was bloody and drooping unnaturally, as if his jaw might have come unhinged, his forehead swollen twice its normal size, and he wheezed heavily from possibly too many kicks to the ribs. Or perhaps a collapsed lung. Rubén pointed a finger at him, feeling nothing at his pitiful state. Violence wasn’t his favorite thing in the world but having been around it for much of his fifty-six years, he’d grown desensitized to it. Mostly out of necessity. “Same deal. Repeat what you said. No alterations.”
The wheezing man said nothing.
Rubén frowned. “You’re on the cusp of an early death, and you’re defiant?”
Still nothing.
Rubén tensed as his hackles rose. This was exactly the kind of martyrdom that gave his people the wrong idea, like jumping ship to his rivals. Rubén wanted to gut the man like the swine that he was and sell his carcass at La Nueva Viga. Instead, he took a deep breath to calm himself. Years of experience proved that he had to show he was cool and strong and always under control. His being rankled would shake his men.
He was composed as he approached the man, a soft smile gracing his lips as he took hold of the man’s wrist and bent his pinky finger back until the digit almost touched the back of his hand.
He let loose a bloodcurdling scream that echoed to the sky. Rubén was grateful that his closest neighbor was half a mile away, not that they would ever call the police. Even suspecting his illicit activities.
“Are you sure you don’t want to repeat it?”
As his hand began to give way and tear, he screamed out those hated two words, “Maricón Chilango!“
Faggot …
Rubén dropped his hand, swallowing past the hard lump in his throat as the word echoed around his skull. Oh, how he despised that word. It made him see red every single time. He returned to the first man, who sheepishly looked away, his face pale and terrified. “And you found that funny, didn’t you?”
“N-no, I—”
“That’s right, I said it,” the second man interrupted, his droopy mouth morphing into a deformed smile as he cradled his injured hand to his bloody chest. “No one wants to follow a maricón who cares more about art and theater than the gang. We’re a fucking laughingstock because of you. You’re driving us into the ground, that’s why everyone’s leaving! And don’t think for one second that we don’t all feel the same way.” He made pointed gestures to, not only the man beside him, but to the two rifle-wielders as well. “Every. Single. One.”
Rubén clenched his teeth, his body trembling.
“It’s only a matter of time before everyone goes to a real cartel.”
Rubén pulled out his .38 Super El Grito pistol and fired two shots into both men’s skulls in the span of a single heartbeat. He marched inside before the bodies hit the ground, though the thud echoed in his head as he absentmindedly took the various hallways of his estate that led to his bedchamber.
He paused with his hand on the doorknob as he picked up the faintest scent of something sweet and familiar. Rubén took a deep breath and held it.
Could it be?
Opening the unlocked French doors, the sweet aroma of vanilla and cinnamon greeted him first, and he spotted the source, sitting on a silver tray atop his coffee table. Two mugs of steaming atole, his favorite comfort drink.
However, his steps faltered as he took in the sight of the figure sitting in one of the chairs beside it. “Mi amor.“
Gabriel stood to greet him, and he was just as Rubén remembered. Long and lean, beautiful with his sorrowful dark eyes and long blond curls falling about his shoulders. His pink lips glistened, and as Gabriel dragged his tongue across them, it was all the cue that Rubén needed to close the distance between them and lock lips with his young lover.
Gabriel wrapped his arms around him, and Rubén melted into his embrace. He was warm, the lithe planes of his body so familiar. “It’s been too long.”
Gabriel chuckled. “We had a week together during Christmas.”
“Three months ago, and many more before then. But now you’re back home where you belong. That’s all that matters.” He dropped into Gabriel’s vacated seat with a heavy sigh. “Do you have any idea how sick I was when I learned that you’d been shot by the Spadaro son?” He’d had no appetite for days, subsisting only on alcohol and cocaine to keep him going.
“I didn’t mean to worry you.”
Rubén jabbed a finger in his direction. “Need I remind you that had you obeyed me in the first place and come home when I asked you to, none of that would have happened. When I give these commands, amado, it’s not to wield my status or power over you. It’s to keep you safe and protected from the fiends of the world who would try to take everything we’ve built from us. I’m harsh because I care about you fiercely. Estoy loco por ti, amor. Te necesito.“
Gabriel’s face softened as he knelt in front of him. “You’re right. I should have listened. When I was lying there, afraid I was taking my final breaths, all I could think was ‘I should’ve listened to Rubén.’ It won’t happen again, I promise.” He handed one of the steaming mugs to Rubén. “The good news is that I did get some very useful information out of the ordeal, so in the end it was worth it.”
Rubén bit back a scoff as he sipped the masa-based beverage. He hummed in satisfaction at the taste. “I haven’t enjoyed one of these since you left. Except on one occasion during Dia de los Muertos, but it wasn’t nearly as good as yours.”
“Flatterer.”
Rubén chuckled and appraised the blond. That he was home, alive and well, healed from his ordeal, it felt so surreal. “We have so much catching up to do. I hate that I missed your thirtieth birthday. Did you have the grand celebration you’ve always wanted?”
“It was …” Gabriel hesitated, a faraway look in his eyes. “Quiet.”
Before Rubén could ask him to elaborate, his lover had already moved behind him, his dexterous hands massaging Rubén’s shoulders. Rubén sank into his touch.
“What was all the commotion outside about?” Gabriel asked. “I heard gunshots.”
Rubén rubbed his temple. “I’m losing the men’s respect. Some of them no longer view me as their leader. I’m afraid the sentiment might be growing.”
“They just don’t see the bigger picture,” Gabriel stated calmly. “They can’t envision the results of playing the long game. But once you make a play on the U.S., on Sapphire, they’ll take it more seriously.”
Rubén waved a dismissive hand. “Put this Sapphire business out of mind. We have a bigger problem.”
Gabriel’s hands stilled. “Oh?”
“The American supplier should be ready with the guns for Señor Villanueva. I want you to oversee the transfer. Make sure the hand-off goes smoothly.”
“You want me to?”
Rubén stood, then, steeling his expression to show his love and sincerity as he faced Gabriel. “Usually that job is reserved for my more senior members who are used to dealing with this particular supplier, but after everything today you’re the only one I can trust right now.”
With a knowing smirk, Gabriel closed the distance between them until they were standing almost chest-to-chest. Though Gabriel was slightly taller than Rubén, he buried his face into the crook of his neck. “I won’t let you down.”
Rubén bit back a groan as his body came alive at his nearness, at the heat emanating from him. He had a sudden craving to reexplore every part of Gabriel’s beautiful body with his hands and tongue until the sun went down. “I know you won’t.” He cleared his throat, but there was no hiding how thick with lust his voice was. He cupped Gabriel’s face between his palms and stared into his eyes. “You’ve never let me down, Elvio. My most loyal and faithful soldier.” His gaze skimmed his lips. “And lover,” he whispered.
Gabriel kissed him, all tongue and teeth and sweet moans as their mouths danced, and he nipped Rubén’s bottom lip. He pressed their bodies flush together, Gabriel’s erection digging into his hip.
Rubén erupted with desire, his body warming like an animal suddenly in heat.
“It’s been three months and two years, love.” Gabriel’s grin was lecherous as he took him by the hand and led the way to bed. “We’ve got a lot of making up to do.”
* * *
Rei woke up to the smell of eggs, bacon, and roasted coffee beans wafting from the kitchen and into his darkened bedroom, making his mouth salivate. He checked his phone. It was just after six a.m. There was no way he should be up so early, especially when he didn’t have anywhere else to be, but the wonderful smells coming from down the hallway beckoned him.
Unwittingly, he found himself sitting up and stretching his arms overhead. Had he even eaten dinner last night? He couldn’t remember.
His growling stomach said no, though.
Rei pulled on a pair of lounge sweatpants before he left his room to follow the enticing scent trail. There was no sleeping in the buff in the house, not because Daniel minded, but his roommate had a habit of barging into the office whenever he needed to use his computer, and apparently, he’d been apoplectic just seeing him sleeping in his boxers with the covers thrown off.
Rei had been passed out and didn’t remember, and for that he was grateful.
He entered the small, but charming and spotlessly clean kitchen to find Daniel alone, scrambling eggs on top of the stove. His bestie was dressed for work in a fitted turtleneck sweater and stylish cargo pants.
He smiled when Rei plopped down in one of the dining chairs. “Morning.”
“Morning.” Rei yawned. “I think we’re out of alcohol.”
Daniel set his favorite Jujutsu Kaisen mug in front of Rei, filled with hot coffee. “Not because of you, of course,” he drawled, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
“Definitely not.” Rei palmed the ceramic cup to warm up his chilled hands. “We should grab some later.”
“Why are we talking about alcohol this early in the morning? Do you want some eggs and bacon?”
“Do you know how much alcohol I require to deal with your roommate? And yes, please. Are they cheesy eggs?”
“The cheesiest of scrambled eggs. Colby Jack. Only the best.”
Rei’s stomach let loose another growl of approval. “Hook me up.”
Daniel fixed a plate for him, piling it high with fluffy eggs and several slices of crispy bacon. “I can put some toast on real quick if you want it.”
“Nope, this is good right here.” Rei didn’t hesitate to shovel a forkful into his mouth, moaning in appreciation at the heavenly taste. “Delicious.”
“Good.” Daniel moved to the sink to start washing out his mess. “You really wanna get alcohol later?”
Rei bit into the bacon, satisfied with the perfect crunch it made. “It’s to celebrate. I think I finally found a place to stay.”
Daniel spun around to face him, his dark eyes wide. “For real?”
“Yep. One of my former coworkers, Timothy, said he’s been looking for a roommate for a condo. Said he’d even discount my first month since we’re friends. I’m gonna go check it out tomorrow. Come with me?”
“Absolutely. That’s great news, Rei.”
Rei didn’t miss the drop in Daniel’s shoulders, nor the relief plastered across his face. He knew he’d put Daniel in a tough spot, having to delicately balance helping his near-destitute friend while still respecting his roommate’s wishes. Judging from the increasing arguments they’d had in the last few days when they thought Rei was sleeping, that juggling act wasn’t going well.
He was glad he’d be out of Daniel’s hair soon. Maybe he and Mark could restore their symbiosis.
“If that’s the case, we could see if Wendy’s free and go out somewhere for drinks.”
“Where would we go, though?” Rei tapped his chin, pondering. He had a couple eating spots he liked to visit regularly, but not too many bars. The only one that immediately came to mind was Bardog Tavern and he sure as shit wasn’t going back there. Not after they’d witnessed that man being shot in the alley.
“Do you remember The Candy Shop on Winchester?” Daniel asked, a big grin on his face.
Rei frowned. “Doesn’t sound familiar.”
“The frozen drink place with all the games and karaoke. I took you there once and you ordered that big ass multicolored drink. The Suicide.”
Rei smacked his forehead as memories flooded his brain. “Shit, I remember now! I thought the different colors meant different flavors, not different liquors.”
Daniel snickered. “You even had the cashier throw in that extra shot, too.”
“Yeah, ‘cause I thought it would be too sweet with all those flavors in it. Then when the cashier was like, ‘Oh, you ‘boutta get turnt up!’ I looked at her like she was crazy. Bro, when I tell you I didn’t even realize the mistake I made.”
He’d only been a few sips in when the drink started hitting him. And he was certainly no lightweight when it came to alcohol.
“You were pretty messed up. Meanwhile, I’m over there just enjoying my Bob Marley with the gummies on top, trying not to laugh at how goofy you’d gotten all of a sudden.”
“My dumb ass kept drinking too, thinking there was no way this one drink was doing me in when I wasn’t even halfway finished. Messed up is an understatement. You know you’re wrong for not warning me before we got there.”
Daniel grinned mischievously. “Where’s the fun in that?”
Rei groaned. “I will never order that shit again.”
“Sounds like you want to go back tonight. To celebrate.”
Rei glared at him. He’d just thrown up the middle finger when his phone chimed with a text notification. His heart skipped a beat as the name flashed across the top of his screen.
It was from Nico.
Even though Rei thought he didn’t want anything to do with the man after what happened last night, he found himself clicking on the notification and reading over each word. He clutched the phone tight.
“Something wrong?” Daniel stood beside him, having finished cleaning his dishes.
“It’s Nico. He just asked me out to dinner.”
Daniel raised a brow. “Your ex-boss? He asked you on a date?”
Rei scoffed. “Yeah, right. He was a world class douche to me last night when I went to see him, so now he wants to make it up to me. It’s not a date.”
“Oh. Well, if it’s not a date, you should go.” He shrugged and grabbed his messenger bag, settling the strap across his chest.
“He wants to meet tonight. If I go, then we can’t go out for drinks.”
“It’s a school night, Rei. I wasn’t gonna drink anyway. Go. Let him make it up to you.”
Rei crunched on another piece of bacon, trying not to pout. “What if I don’t wanna go?”
“Forgiveness is a virtue. And getting out will do you some good.” Daniel patted his shoulder as he headed for the front door. “I gotta go. See you later.”
“Later.” Rei huffed as he read the formal and eloquently worded text one more time. Despite himself, his cheeks grew warm. “It’s not a date.”
The front door creaked open and closed as Daniel left for the elementary school where he taught at.
Left alone, Rei turned his phone over and over in his hands. He wondered if he should call Eric. Now that he potentially had a new place to stay, he needed to get the rest of his stuff. The last time they’d actually talked, shortly after the breakup, Rei had asked Eric if he could keep his things there just until he’d figured out a new living situation.
Surprisingly, Eric had agreed.
Rei scrolled through his contacts list and found Eric’s name, his ex still listed in there as “Bae.” Rei sighed. He’d fix that later. As his thumb hovered over the call button, Rei bit his lip. He didn’t think he could bring himself to do it. He wasn’t ready to hear the sound of his voice in his ear. It was too intimate.
He pressed the text button instead and typed a quick message:
Hey. Found a new place. When can I get the rest of my things?
It was perfect. Short. Informal. Impersonal.
Before he could overanalyze it and make any changes, Rei hit send. His palms grew sweaty as he stared at the screen, but there was no immediate response.
Probably showering for work, Rei thought. Had his firm ever reopened after the TBI search and seizure? Was he still working late and going to that cigar lounge after work?
Is he as lonely and horny as I am at night?
Rei’s chest bubbled with anxiety, and he quickly dialed another number before he gave in to the stupid urge to text something emotional to his ex-boyfriend.
The call was answered on the second ring. “Rei, ohayou.“
Rei exhaled a sigh of relief. “Mom, hey. I didn’t wake you, did I?”
“No, no, I’m already up getting ready for work. How are you, Son?”
“Oh, you know, same-old. I might have found another place to stay, though.”
“That’s good news! Are you excited? Is it in a nice neighborhood?”
“I haven’t seen it yet, but I’ll let you know how it goes. I’m actually calling because I know I said I’d have your car back to you today, but is it okay if I borrow it for just one more day?” He really didn’t want to spend any of his limited funds on an Uber to meet Nico tonight. “I promise I’ll bring it back first thing tomorrow morning.”
“Rei, borrow the car for as long as you need.”
Rei paused. “Really? You don’t mind?”
Yumiko’s joy-filled laughter in his ear was sweet. “Of course not, baby boy. As long as you need. I’ve been hitching a ride with Tom every day, and it’s been fun. It feels like we’re dating all over again.”
Rei cleared his throat in an attempt not to choke up, even though his heart swelled with so much gratitude. “Thanks, Mom. Love you.”
“I love you, too.”
They hung up, and Rei finished his breakfast and coffee and washed his dishes and put them away. Mark was bound to be home earlier than Daniel, and Rei didn’t feel like hearing him complain about not cleaning behind himself.
He had plenty of time to kill before his dinner with Nico, and as he walked back down the hall toward his temporary bedroom, he mentally made a checklist of things he would do. Apply for a couple jobs on Daniel’s laptop. Play a videogame, limiting himself to only an hour or two, no more than that. Take a nap. In his room, however, he didn’t fire up Daniel’s laptop. Instead, he peeled open the closet where a few things of his rested on hangers.
What would he wear tonight?
He thumbed through the items he’d managed to take with him, clicking his tongue as he passed over hoodies and jeans and graphic tees and only two sweaters. Most of his nicer clothes were still at Eric’s and that included his hair products.
How would he style his hair?
“Jesus, Rei,” he mumbled. “Who are you trying to impress?” Nico didn’t deserve to see him at his best considering the way he’d treated him. He was only concerned because, having some idea of the Sicilian’s taste, the restaurant would probably be super fancy, and Rei didn’t want to embarrass himself.
“It’s not a date,” Rei reminded himself. “Not even a little bit.”
So why the hell was his chest pounding so hard?
* * *
Is it a date or not? That is the question. See you guys soon for Chapter 3!
Until next time,
Jessamyn