Pet Page 13

  He nods, uncertain, because I can see it in his face. “Yes, Master.”

  “When I return, you’ll be able to leave with me, and we’ll go to Paris.”

  He wistfully smiles. “I haven’t been there in years.”

  “Then you’ll love spending Christmas in the City of Lights, baby. Because we’ll need some time to plan the next step, and do research, and I don’t want to move you again unless it’s putting us on a plane to the States.”

  “And then what?”

  I cup his face in my hands. “We’re going to kill that fucking Cunningham and piss on his warm body before we consign him to oblivion.”

  He sucks in a breath. “Really?”

  I grin. “Really baby. Merry Christmas. Might be a little late opening the present, but a late present’s better than none at all.”

  He actually laughs, and I think it’s the first genuine laugh I’ve ever heard from him. “I love you, Master.”

  Another kiss, because I love kissing him. “I love you, too, baby.”

  You know what?

  I’m pretty sure that’s not a lie, either.

  Part III

  War

  “Life being what it is, one dreams of revenge.”

  — Paul Gauguin

  “To take revenge halfheartedly is to court disaster; either condemn or crown your hatred.”

  — Pierre Corneille

  Chapter Sixteen

  Jace

  Before dawn on the second Tuesday of January, I awaken in our hotel room in Tallahassee and lie there with Eddie’s back pressed tightly against me like I’m a protective wall shielding him from the world.

  Who’s really shielding who, though?

  Am I using him as an easy excuse for what I’m planning, even though it was always a destination I was bound to reach before I ever met him?

  I’m prepared to lose my little brother today.

  Prepare for the worst and hope for the best, right?

  Not looking forward to that possibility.

  The irony that Carter potentially walking away from me might have everything to do with the specific person I now own and nothing to do with my sexual orientation or preferred relationship dynamic isn’t lost on me.

  That’s all right. I will press forward with my quest, avenging not only Pete and Tom, but Carter, too. And Eddie. Maybe Cunningham didn’t kill Carter, but he damn near did. Likely took a chunk out of his soul in the process the way he did with Eddie, too.

  Part of me feels guilty, no matter how irrational that is, that I didn’t take out Cunningham back in Germany before he had a chance to fuck up my little brother’s life. I know it’s not my fault…

  But it’s my fault, isn’t it?

  Had I not hesitated, had I taken a few risks and culled Cunningham years ago, he couldn’t have fucked with Carter, or Eddie, or who knows how many other young men.

  And several men in Carter and Eddie’s old unit would still be alive. Others wouldn’t have been severely wounded.

  Yes, I know I can’t change the past, and technically I hold no liability for the events that unfolded.

  Doesn’t mean I know how to stop holding myself accountable.

  Our research dredged up that Cunningham is friends with a good friend of US Senator ShaeLynn Samuels, Bradenton Rexley. He will be in attendance at Susa’s inauguration ball tonight. The good senator is running for POTUS, although she’s already got a primary field jockeying for position around her.

  I suspect she’ll annihilate them all. The woman’s sharp, a top-notch attorney, and an effective lawmaker. She deserves the spot.

  But what I need from her tonight is an introduction to her friend, Bradenton Rexley, who I already know is also on the guest list for tonight’s event because he happens to be a high-powered lawyer in Tallahassee with a lot of state-level juice.

  Of course Carter would invite Rexley to tonight’s soirée. Carter’s not stupid. He knows having someone like Rexley on Susa’s side will greatly benefit her administration in numerous ways.

  There’s something to be said about cultivating political emissaries who aren’t elected officials, and who can relay messages and help craft compromises. It’s a mutually beneficial relationship. They can legitimately claim to have juice with elected officials, and the elected officials can put them to use in situations where making direct contact themselves could potentially erupt in a PR nightmare if it came to light—if it wasn’t an instance of outright illegal conflict of interest, or undeclared lobbying, or a violation of sunshine laws.

  I’m guessing that means Carter may not know anything about Rexley’s close friendship with Cunningham.

  Or, maybe it does. Based on what Eddie told me Carter did to Elsa just a couple of months ago, and what I deduced on my own from research, maybe Carter has plans of his own for getting closer to Cunningham at some future point.

  I can’t let that happen. I can’t risk my little brother potentially throwing away his life and family over revenge.

  That’s my job.

  More specifically, that’s Eddie’s job. If we’re all very careful, and even more lucky, maybe all of us will emerge on the other side of this unscathed. Overall, I’m not superstitious, but by surviving in Afghanistan, and successfully taking out Elsa Pfeiffer, Carter’s likely already used up his lifetime of luck.

  That’s too much risk to my little brother for me to be comfortable with it.

  What happens next, once my final life’s mission is complete?

  I honestly don’t know. I haven’t dared jinx this mission by planning any of that yet. Eddie’s barely survived all these years. He thinks he has, but not really. Not emotionally.

  Ideally, he and I will buy a house somewhere on a slice of land where no one can hear him scream when I lay hands on him and give him the only peace he feels he deserves.

  Until I can teach him there is more to life than mere survival, that is.

  And that he deserves to be truly happy and free from the chains of his nightmares and ingrained beliefs.

  Maybe he’ll willingly let me be that person for him, I don’t know. There’s still the whole problem of Eddie and I needing to keep what we have concealed in the shadows, for now. Outside of Carter finding out, that is. He’s the only one I’m comfortable learning about this, and only because of what I know about him.

  And who we have in common.

  Perhaps we can buy property in Florida, so at least I can spend time with Carter and his family.

  If Carter doesn’t disown and hate me after all’s said and done, that is. Except if Eddie dies in the pursuit of our shared vengeance, I am reasonably Carter will disown me.

  No apologies on my part for that possibility being baked into our plan, either. For now, Eddie’s my tool, my hammer. A beloved tool, and a hammer I’m enjoying the hell out of pounding, but he’s still my tool.

  Once this mission is completed, only then can I contemplate our future together. Until then, we’re embroiled in a silent, secret war with Cunningham.

  War is hell, but vengeance is sweet. I don’t give a flying fuck what everyone says about turning the other cheek in forgiveness. You turn the other cheek, you’ll get yourself bent over a colonel’s desk and soon end up hating your own soul, thinking you deserve nothing better.

  Had I known about Elsa Pfeiffer, I would have seen to her myself years ago. Eddie deserves this one last kill to silence his demons, quiet his soul, and close the door forever on his painful past. Because it’s never too late to start living a new life.

  If I’m very lucky, he’ll willingly want to continue living it with me.

  That Cunningham’s death will slake my need for vengeance in the process is a bonus.

  Although most of my vengeance is fueled by wounds inflicted on my family, thanks to the monster who once wore a uniform.

  Next to me, Eddie stirs. I give him just a moment to open his eyes before I fist his hair and shove him down toward my cock. His soft, sweet moan as his warm mouth e
ngulfs me tells me, yes, I guessed right.

  There is no gentle seduction with him. He wants to be subdued.

  Needs it. His soul craves surrender to a stronger force than himself. Fortunately for him, I won’t abuse that trust he’s placed in me the way so many others have in his past.

  Once we’re both safely through with this I can start building our relationship from the ground up the right way, the healthy way. Because I’m not letting Eddie go. Eddie belongs to me now, and I won’t cede ownership of him to anyone. Not even to my little brother. Especially not after all my pet’s endured and survived.

  On the other side, that’s something I will work on with him immediately. Teach him that love and sex don’t have to be hard and cold. If it’s not a lesson he can take to heart, at least I can lovingly provide the strict discipline his soul craves so no other predators can ever take advantage of him again. We can both stop running from the world and find a soft crash-landing in each other’s arms.

  I hope.

  Lord, please let that be our future.

  I don’t want to do this any longer. I don’t want to spend every day looking over my shoulder. I’m tired of subterfuge and dossiers and liquidation lists because someone pissed off the wrong world leader. I’m tired of not being able to view the world immediately around me with an appreciation for what is obvious, inherent beauty and instead I must constantly stay on alert for threats, or to assess future ops.

  I want to be retired and finally get a chance to enjoy my goddamned life. I’ve sought revenge for so long I’ve ignored my own needs.

  Until Eddie.

  Carter always wanted kids, so maybe some aspects of this worked out for the best. Eddie never wanted kids, and neither did I. Carter has Susa and Owen and two beautiful sons, with possibly more children in their future. His life is as full and blessed as mine was empty and cursed.

  I close my eyes and brace my feet against the mattress so I can flex my hips in time with Eddie’s movements. He’s damned good with his mouth. No shit, the best I’ve ever had.

  It’s only slightly weird that I know my brother fucked him and had more than a little to do with the man’s fantastic skills in bed.

  Whether or not Eddie willingly wants to stay with me once we’ve obtained our revenge is another matter entirely. Prisoner or pet, I don’t care which. Although pet would logistically be easier to manage over the long haul. Regardless, I can keep him captive if I have to, because he’s dead to my handlers. If he pops up alive again, he’ll end up on someone else’s hit list, and they likely won’t be as willing to keep him alive as I was.

  If that ends up happening, I’d prefer to quickly and humanely take him out myself so he doesn’t suffer. Isn’t that what a responsible pet owner does? Makes end-of-life decisions when their pet’s quality of life is no longer present?

  At least I had periods of relative normality in my life. I had a social life, of sorts. I had liaisons aplenty. Hiding who I am from my family didn’t put a dent in any of those activities. I simply kept my personal activities limited to overseas, where none of my family could discover them.

  Eddie’s never even had that. He’s relegated himself to anonymous encounters that left him feeling dirty and full of shame about himself and only reinforced those old demons throughout the years, allowing them to scream nonstop in his brain, overtaking and controlling his soul. He’s never done the hard and miserable self-work to reconcile who he is with what he does personally, or learned that neither are things to be ashamed of.

  My release soon bubbles up and I spill, forcing my cock deep in his mouth and catching my breath as he swallows like the perfectly good boy he is.

  Immediately, I ease my grip and rub his scalp. “Good boy. Thank you, pet. That was excellent.”

  He presses his face against my abs. “You’re welcome, Master.” Alone like this, he acts almost shy when I give him praise. It’s adorable.

  One of the most precious memories of my life now is this past Christmas Day. I’ll never forget the smile on Eddie’s face as he sat, naked and collared under the small Christmas tree we erected in in my flat in Paris, while he unwrapped the gifts I surprised him with. A new watch, a necklace that’s his day collar, a heavy bracelet that’s another day collar, and a vibrating buttplug, which I can remotely control with an app on my phone.

  I know. But what can I say? I’m a romantic.

  “When do you have to leave?” he asks.

  I glance at the time. “I told Carter I’d meet them at their place at eight this morning before the breakfast. I want you to order room service and eat something before you start your day.” Otherwise, he won’t eat until later tonight, and I don’t want him going that long without a substantial meal in him.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  I feel a little guilty I’m keeping him hidden right now, but I don’t want Carter seeing him yet. I can’t risk him eliminating me from tonight’s guest list. “You can take a shower with me, pet.”

  Eddie smiles. “Thank you, Sir.”

  The swearing in ceremony is at noon, and the inaugural ball tonight starts at eight. I’ll ask Carter to add my plus-one to my invite for tonight. He’d already told me I could bring someone, or change my mind and add them, if I wanted.

  Yes, I’m giving him Eddie’s new name, but a quick background check by their security team will come up clean. Hell, even a deep background check will come up clean. Nothing more to be found than some old credit dings here and there, and a few minor traffic tickets.

  Too clean, and it would look suspicious and fake and draw the wrong kind of attention.

  I can’t tell you how many fake aliases I discovered for subjects I had to deal with because their squeaky-clean backgrounds were a honking red flag.

  An hour later, I’m on my way to Carter and Susa’s townhouse in an Uber. I’m leaving the rental car at the hotel for Eddie to use today. While I’m busy, he’s going to run errands and do preliminary research ahead of our ops. I haven’t spent much time in Tallahassee, so I’m not familiar with it.

  But we’re going to need a place to stay in the area that’s not a hotel, we’re going to need a safe hideout plan our ops from separate from our living quarters, and we’ll need a place to dispose of Cunningham once we’ve acquired him.

  Preferably, someplace we will have unlimited privacy so we can make the fucker scream a bit first. I want him to suffer before he draws his last breath.

  Taking point on those tasks will help Eddie stay busy and focused while I’m occupied this morning and, hopefully, keep his mind off tonight.

  I get out of the car at the security checkpoint a block from their townhouse and walk the rest of the way. They live in a building of three townhouses, with theirs on one end, Owen’s in the middle, and Susa’s parents own the one on the far end, although they rarely stay there. They also have a house in Tallahassee, and one in Tampa.

  When Carter answers the door, his wide grin plucks a twinge of guilt inside me. “You made it!” He pulls me in for a hug.

  “I did. Told you I’d be here, baby bro. Wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

  He ushers me in and I hear Susa call from upstairs. “Who is it?”

  “Jace is here, Suse.”

  And…there’s Owen, holding Tommy…no, Petey. “Owen,” Carter says. “You remember my brother, Jace?”

  I walk over and he shifts Petey to his left arm so he can shake hands with me. “Hey, of course. Glad you could join us today.”

  Yep, Petey is the splitting image of Owen.

  Now that I know what I know courtesy of Eddie—that Elsa made him and Carter get vasectomies as a cruel loyalty test—I know without a doubt Owen is the biological father of Carter’s kids.

  Eddie says Carter told him it happened via IVF. Me? I’m not so certain that’s the truth. Guy doesn’t just jizz in a jar for his best friends and suddenly go Mr. Mom over the offspring, does he?

  An hour later, we’re all at the official last breakfast at the Florida G
overnor’s Mansion, located mere blocks from the townhouse. Our parents won’t be able to join us today because of their ages and the difficulty they have travelling, but Carter’s going to Skype them in so they can watch live.

  Parker and Charlie and their families are there, too, and it’s good to be able to hug them again. The Wilson boys in the house. Watch out, world. Gene’s flight got delayed last night, and he’s on his way now. He’ll miss the breakfast but should be here in time for the swearing in, and will attend the ball tonight.

  Owen, the outgoing governor, is a gracious host, and did I mention he’s hot? Every time someone tries to focus on him, he diverts the focus back to Susa and Ethan.

  I also notice how Owen watches Susa any time he thinks he can do so without people catching on.

  Loving.

  Protective.

  I watch him even more closely and realize he can’t help smiling.

  Especially any time Susa puts her hand on her stomach.

  Oh. Oh!

  She’s pregnant, I’ll bet.

  Hmm. Interesting.

  It’s tempting to ask Carter if I’m correct, but I don’t want to spill the beans if there’s a reason they’re not telling anyone yet.

  I’m also reasonably certain that Susa’s lieutenant governor, Ethan Hamilton, is an item with her chief of staff, Draymond Garcia, and Draymond’s long-term and secret boyfriend, Gregory Milan.

  Who is Ethan’s chief of staff.

  Yeah, like that is a good idea. Why worry if shit can go sideways when you can ensure it’ll go sideways in an epically flaming way?

  Then again, if it worked for Carter and Owen and Susa for the past eight years while Owen ran the state, why can’t it work for Ethan and his men, too?