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It was a beautiful summer’s day when the devil came to visit.
Kinn was in the gardens, having brunch with Time and Tay. Porsche watched over them from a distance. Tay had tried to goad him into sitting down with them, but Porsche had politely declined. He’d rather not join the high table of mafia heirs on this pleasant morning, thank you very much.
He joined Pol by the koi pond instead, helping him throw fish feed into the water.
“You’re not going to piss in it again, are you?”
Porsche rolled his eyes at the good-natured jab. “Hardly. Khun Tankhun just forgave me for skipping out on movie night last Friday.”
Pol paled around the nose. Judging by the look on his face, he hadn’t been able to come up with a good enough excuse.
Porsche laughed. “Sorry, man.”
Pol shuddered. “We watched Drag, I Love You. I was scared Khun Tankhun would put me in a dress next.”
“If it’s any consolation, you’d make a very pretty lady.”
It was hard to tell with the sun beating down on them, but Porsche was pretty sure Pol was blushing. “You think so?”
Porsche brushed the last crumbs of fish feed off his hands. “Absolutely.”
He left Pol by the pond and slowly made his way back across the garden. Kinn had never left his line of sight, but Porsche couldn’t lie. He grew antsy when there was too much distance between them. He told himself it was because of his job.
Kinn noticed him coming, his dark eyes fixating on Porsche in a way that made Porsche feel hot under the collar, and not just because he was in a suit in the full summer heat.
“...and we’ve lost him,” Tay complained. “Hey, Kinn, it’s rude to ignore your friends in order to eyefuck your bodyguard, you know?”
Time laughed. “What do you expect, my love? It’s Porsche.”
His laughter stopped when Tay kicked him in the shin under the table.
Porsche withstood the urge to roll his eyes. He wasn’t particularly fond of Kinn’s friends, but they were good friends to Kinn and so Porsche had nothing to complain about.
The roar of an engine made him look towards the high arch of the garden gate. The gardens (much like the rest of the estate) were enclosed by high stone walls and so he had only the noise to figure out what was going on outside.
There was the shrill scream of the estate gates being pushed open faster than their motorization allowed and then the unmistakable sound of a supercar coming through. The noise of the engine was deafening, brakes screeching as the car came to a stop on the gravel in front of the main house.
It wasn’t an unusual sequence of noise. Porsche had heard it hundreds of times before. But all the sons of the Theerapanyakul family were currently at home and the only other people who might have caused such a ruckus were currently sipping mimosas at the garden table.
Not a good sign.
Porsche was all reaction. He broke into a sprint, pulling his gun while running. He kept his eyes on the garden gate while he yelled at Kinn and his friends to get down. With adrenaline rushing into his bloodstream, he frantically scanned the perimeter for any sign of intrusion.
His yelling caused the other bodyguards to come running as well. Together, they formed a protective ring around the table.
Finally, it was one of their own men that came running through the garden gate. He was panting, and not just because of the exertion. His skin was deadly pale, his eyes wide with fright. The bodyguard looked like he’d seen the devil.
“Khun Kinn!” the man called, clearly trying to compose himself. “Khun Kinn, Khun Vegas is here. He wants to see you.”
Porsche frowned, tightening the grip on his gun. It was rare that Vegas visited. Usually, Kinn and Vegas communicated no more than once a month and Kinn had moved those meetings to places outside of the Theerapanyakul mansion.
It had never been said out loud, but Vegas was not allowed to come to the house. In fact, it had been more than a year since Vegas had last set foot onto the premises. For him to show up unannounced like this, it had to mean something had happened.
Porsche stepped aside to allow Kinn to come out from under the table. He still didn’t feel like putting his gun away.
Kinn took a moment to smooth out his shirt before he nodded at the guard who’d come running. “Thank you for telling me. You may return to your duties.”
“What is going on?” Porsche murmured as they began walking towards the house.
“I don’t know, but let’s find out.”
Porsche waited until they were inside, out of sight from all the guards and Time and Tay still in the garden before he grabbed onto Kinn’s wrist. It was an effective way to get Kinn to stop walking.
Porsche didn’t even have to say anything.
Kinn smiled as he stepped closer, close enough to smooth out the furrow between Porsche’s eyebrows with his thumb. “Don’t worry, darling. Vegas is not dangerous.”
“Vegas is always dangerous.”
“He is not a danger to me,” Kinn amended.
Porsche wasn’t convinced. “How can you be so confident in saying that?”
“Because I have what he wants and he knows that if he displeases me, he’ll never catch a glimpse of him again.”
Porsche didn’t need to ask what Kinn was talking about. He’d been thinking about it since the moment he had heard Vegas’ name. It was just one more reason for him to keep his gun in his hand.
“One wrong move and I’ll shoot him.”
Kinn smiled and darted forward to press a kiss against his lips. “Good boy.”
Porsche withstood the urge to kick Kinn in the shin. They started walking again.
Porsche couldn’t deny that Kinn’s relaxed front helped him keep calm too. If Kinn wasn’t worried, there usually wasn’t a reason to worry.
Except it was Vegas they were talking about.
Kinn hadn’t allowed Porsche to come along for any of the monthly meetings, so it had been a year since Porsche had last seen Vegas.
Seeing him now was an experience.
Vegas didn’t look much different than how Porsche remembered him. Only his face looked a lot more shadowed than it had been before. What Porsche could see of his face anyways.
Vegas was drenched in blood from head to toe, dripping red onto the expensive marble flooring of the foyer.
The devil, in his truest form.
“That’s not your blood, is it?” Kinn asked as he stepped into his cousin’s line of sight.
Vegas bared his teeth at him. The white of his teeth drew a disturbing contrast to the scarlet splattered all over his face. “No.”
“Do you require medical attention?”
Vegas huffed. Porsche closely watched the way his fingers twitched, curling into fists. “I don’t have time for this.”
“Let’s talk in my office, then.”
Porsche was surprised by how readily Vegas complied. Even more than that, he led the way without waiting for any of them.
Porsche shot Kinn a warning look, but Kinn only smiled at him. “Darling, why don’t you go and get us coffee?”
“Fuck no! I’m not leaving you alone with him!”
Kinn’s smile persisted. “Just give me a moment, Porsche. Do you trust me?”
“I trust you. I don’t trust him.”
“Then go and get us some coffee.” It wasn’t a question this time.
Porsche scowled, but there was nothing else he could do other than giving in to Kinn’s command. “Fine. If he stabs you, that’s on you.”
“I’ll give you permission to shoot him if he does.”
Porsche took a deep breath as he watched Kinn walk away from him. It felt wrong, like purposefully wearing your clothes inside out. It didn’t do any direct harm, but it still left one’s skin itching.
Porsche took a deep breath before he turned into the direction of the kitchen. He would use the time operating the coffee machine to come up with a way to make Kinn pay for shutting him out like this.
Porsche hadn’t yet left the foyer when he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. A blur of bodyguard black down the stairs.
He reacted without thinking, turning on his heel and sprinting over. He caught Pete around the waist, just before his friend’s hand could reach the handle of the door Kinn and Vegas had disappeared behind.
“Porsche!” Pete struggled against his grip. “What are you doing?! Let me go!”
“You don’t want to go in there, Pete.”
Pete shook his head, pushing against the hold Porsche had on him. “You don’t understand, Porsche. They said he was covered in blood!”
Porsche couldn’t contain the scoff that threatened to escape him. “It’s not his blood. Vegas is fine.”
Pete stopped struggling. Out of breath, he searched Porsche’s eyes for the truth. “Is that true?”
Porsche nodded. “I wouldn’t lie to you about this. Bodily, Vegas is fine.”
Pete slumped in his grip. Porsche made sure he was able to stand on his feet before he let go of his friend.
He hated how quiet Pete’s voice came out when he said, “I thought…”
“I know.” Porsche offered him a gentle smile. “He looked quite gruesome when he came in, but he said it was not his own blood, so…”
“So, he’s fine.” Pete’s eyes flickered over to the door. “He’s not dying.”
Porsche swallowed at the emotion he saw in his friend’s eyes. Relief. Anguish. Longing. So much longing, it took Porsche’s breath away and he was merely a spectator.
He watched as his friend reached for the door handle. Hesitated. Didn’t take it.
Porsche didn’t try to stop him throughout any of it. He knew if Pete really wanted to go in, it was no use trying to stop him.
Slowly, Pete turned away from the door. Porsche could do nothing but watch as his friend forced himself to walk away from what wasn’t good for him.
Pete was halfway up the stairs when he stopped short, seeking out Porsche’s gaze with wide eyes of his own. “We should get someone to clean the blood off the floors.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Porsche hastily waved him off, forcing his usual smile onto his face. “I’ll take care of it.”
Pete smiled back at him, but Porsche could see that it was empty. “Thank you, Porsche.”
“No problem, Pete.”
He waited until Pete had disappeared up the stairs before he turned and did what his friend couldn’t.
He entered the office.
Vegas was sitting on the sofa in the middle of the room, smearing blood all over the expensive fabric.
“How many men did you kill to come here looking like that?” Porsche asked.
Normally, he would have kept his mouth shut and stood by the door silently like a good bodyguard, but this was Vegas. Vegas didn’t deserve that kind of respect.
Vegas shot him an unimpressed look. “Still haven’t trained your mutt, Kinn?”
They both looked towards Kinn, who was standing in front of the window behind his desk, his back turned towards the room. Porsche withstood the urge to walk over and smack him.
Who entered a room with the devil and turned their back on him? Kinn, that was who. Porsche needed to talk to him about his god complex again.
He was surprised by the serious expression on Kinn’s face when Kinn turned around. It wasn’t just the usual type of unaffected mafia posturing. Kinn looked seriously troubled.
“When did it happen?” he asked Vegas, clearly continuing the conversation they were having before Porsche had come in.
“Tonight at 3 a.m.”
Porsche frowned as he tried to piece together what he had missed.
“And you waited until now to come here?”
Vegas’ jaw clenched, gesturing at his blood-drenched self. “I tried to investigate on my own first.”
Kinn nodded, sitting down in his desk chair. His fingers came up to stroke along the edge of his jaw. It was something he usually did when he was on the verge of a headache.
“I’ll have to think about it,” he said eventually.
Vegas jumped to his feet, but Porsche was quicker than him. He had his gun pointed at Vegas’ head before the man could even think about taking a step closer to Kinn.
Vegas shot Porsche a murderous glare before he turned back to Kinn. “Are you serious?”
Kinn nodded and got up. “Very serious.” He picked up a piece of paper from his desk. Judging by the red smears on the paper, it had come from Vegas’ hands. “Give me half an hour.”
Vegas looked like he had half a mind to ignore Porsche’s gun and walk over to strangle Kinn anyways, but eventually the tension faded from his body and he dropped back onto the sofa. Porsche couldn’t lie. He was impressed by the level of anger management. Vegas must have worked on himself this past year.
“Fine, but don’t take too long.”
It was as much of an answer as they would get out of him. Porsche didn’t put his gun away until Kinn had passed him by. He followed him out of the door.
“Are you sure it’s a good idea to leave him by himself in there?” Porsche asked as soon as they were out of the office.
“He’s going to stay put for the next thirty minutes.”
“How do you know?”
Kinn waited until they were in the elevator up to the third floor before he answered, “Because he really needs our help.”
*
Kim and Tankhun were already waiting for them when Kinn and Porsche entered Kinn’s office. It was a different one than the one they had left Vegas in. This was the office Kinn used most often because it also functioned as the anteroom to his private quarters.
Kim was sprawled out on one of the sofas while Tankhun was sniffing the bottles in Kinn’s liquor cabinet.
“Is this going to take long?” Kim asked as soon as Porsche had closed the door behind himself. “I have to pick up Ché from university in half an hour.”
“Family reunion, family reunion,” Tankhun sang. “What a joyous occasion!”
Kim turned to look at him. “We literally had dinner together last night.”
Tankhun smiled at him. “I’m not talking about us, little brother. I’m talking about our dear cousin. Vegas has come to visit.”
Kim frowned. “Is that so? Kinn?”
“Vegas is here,” Kinn confirmed. He took a seat on the sofa opposite of Kim. “He wants the help of the main family.”
Kim snorted. “Vegas wants our help? For what? Did he tank one of his casinos?”
Kinn pulled out the paper Porsche had seen him handle before. He dropped it on the coffee table.
“Macau has been kidnapped.” Kinn briefly paused to let everyone digest that piece of information. “He was at a nightclub yesterday when they ambushed him in the VIP area. They took out his guards and left nothing but this note.”
Before anyone else could react, Tankhun snatched up the note. He read through it twice before he discarded it with a huff. “Not even creative. Mine looked better. These thugs really have grown lazy, huh?”
Kim took the note from him, his expression hidden behind his sunglasses. Eventually, he dropped it back on the table. “They’re not asking for money.”
Kinn hummed. “It has to be a power play.”
“Another family?”
Kinn nodded. “Most likely.”
Kim scoffed. “I say let Vegas deal with it on his own, then. I’m not too worried about Macau. I have no doubt these kidnappers will give him back once they realise how insufferable the little brat is.”
Porsche couldn’t contain the snort that escaped him.
Kim raised his sunglasses to glare at him. “What’s so funny?”
Porsche shook his head. “Nothing.” Just the kettle calling the pot black.
“Porsche, what do you think?”
Porsche’s eyes widened. “Me?”
“Yes, you.” Tankhun waved his hand. “You’ve spent a lot of time with Vegas--shut up, Kinn, no one needs to hear you growl right now--so tell us what you think about this. Do you think Vegas has come for help or is he scheming?”
Porsche swallowed when all attention fell on him. “Uhm…” He regarded the note, splayed open on the coffee table. There wasn’t on it. Only Macau’s name and an address that Vegas had apparently already visited.
It was more than Porsche had had when his little brother had been taken. The memory alone wrenched his gut.
“I think Vegas is cunning and unpredictable, but his love for Macau is real. He wouldn’t use his little brother as a bargaining chip like this.” Porsche was surprised how sure he was of his own words. “I don’t think Vegas is lying.”
Tankhun laughed. “That’s sweet of you, Porsche, but our dear cousin has no honour. He only has ambition. He would absolutely lie about something like this.”
Kinn sat forward. “True as that may be, I agree with Porsche. He wouldn’t have come here if Macau wasn’t in real danger. Do we have any intel on Macau’s location that doesn’t come from Vegas?”
“He was last seen at a bar,” Kim piped up.
“You contacted our tech department already?”
Kim turned his phone. “No, Macau posted about it on Instagram yesterday. If you search for the location of the bar, you get tons of news sites reporting how it got rough in there last night too. So, that part of the story is true at least.”
Before anyone could say any more, the door to the office opened.
“Pete!” Tankhun frowned at his head of security. “What are you doing here?”
Pete bowed his head at each of the brothers before he folded his hands in front of his stomach. “I want to help.”
Porsche noticed how Pete ignored Tankhun to address Kinn directly.
Kinn and Kim exchange a glance.
Tankhun--apparently having lost interest in the conversation--busied himself by plucking a glass swan from Kinn’s bookshelf and putting it into his pocket.
Kinn crossed his arms in front of his chest, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Under normal circumstances, that would have been enough to make any of the bodyguards defer to him, especially Pete.
Pete shook his head. “I want to help,” he repeated.
“You know this is about Vegas, right?” Kim asked.
The corner of Pete’s mouth twitched. He nodded. “I know.”
“Really?” Kinn got up, his expression entirely unamused.
Porsche withstood the urge to step in between him and Pete. There was nothing he could have done for Pete in that moment.
Kinn tilted his head to the side as he looked Pete up and down. “Because I remember you begging me on your knees to keep him away from you. Begging me to keep Vegas out of this house and you inside so that he may stop haunting you. But that didn’t work, did it?”
“Kinn,” Porsche warned, watching the way Pete’s eyes turned suspiciously shiny. “This is not the moment to question Pete’s loyalty.”
“Khun Kinn, I’m doing this for the main family. I know I have no right to speak over you, who shares a blood relation with Vegas, but I…know him.”
“We know that,” Kim commented.
Porsche withstood the urge to walk over and smack the little bastard up the head.
He was proud when Pete stood firm, holding Kinn’s scrutinizing gaze. “Whatever it is, I think I can help.”
Kinn huffed. “They kidnapped Macau. Do you think you can help with that?”
Pete’s eyes widened in shock before they fell to the floor. He was silent for so long, Porsche began to worry.
“What are you thinking, Pete?”
Porsche was taken aback by the immense sadness in Pete’s eyes when their eyes met. “If anything happens to Macau, Vegas will be lost for good. He is already dangerous as is. Then, he will be tetherless.”
“Little Pete makes a convincing argument.”
They all turned their heads when Tankhun spoke up. His smile was as unreadable as always, always balancing the fine line between crazy and genius. “No matter the fact that Little Macau is insufferable, he is our blood. It’s not just us who know this, but also the rest of the world. We ought to rescue him from the claws of his kidnappers, if only to prevent any other clan from thinking we aren’t able to.” Tankhun turned back to the shelf. “A flamingo!” Another glass ornament wandered into his pocket.
“Well, good luck with that.” Kim got up. “I have better things to do.”
Porsche stepped in his way before Kim could get to the door. He had planned to give Kim some words of warning about how ‘better things’ were to be treated, but he stopped short when he saw the tight line of Kim’s mouth.
There was only one person on the planet that Kim cared enough about to show any emotion, especially concern, so openly.
It sent a whole new shiver of dread down Porsche’s spine.
He forgot sometimes that Kim had been there every step of the way when it had been Ché who had been kidnapped. The thought of it happening again made his stomach turn.
The chances were slim, so slim Porsche hadn’t even considered it until now that he was looking at Kim’s face, but Macau getting kidnapped had been improbable too. If someone was truly looking for a way to attack the family…
Instead of scolding Kim, Porsche asked, “Do you have a weapon on you?”
Kim’s smile was mirthless. “More than one.”
Porsche nodded, “Don’t tell him. Just tell him you want to play some new video game or something. Take him straight home and don’t take him out again until we’ve sorted this out.”
Kim nodded and left. Porsche was glad about the switchblade he saw dancing between Kim’s fingers.
“I’ve got to go too.” Tankhun followed his youngest brother. “The new episode of my drama starts in ten minutes. You’ll handle this, right, Kinn?”
“Of course.” Kinn stopped glaring long enough to shoot his older brother a reassuring smile. “I’ve got it covered.”
Gentleness looked wrong on Kinn’s face, but Porsche wasn’t surprised. Tankhun had been his usual, nonchalant nutcase-self during the meeting, but when it came to the oldest Theerapanyakul and kidnappings, it was important to tread lightly. Getting kidnapped one too many times was the reason Tankhun was the way he was, after all.
Tankhun floated over to the door. He patted Pete on the head on his way out. “Enjoy the show, Little Pete. Don’t give up before the final episode. You might be surprised.”
Clearly accustomed to Tankhun’s eccentrics, Pete lowered his head. “Certainly, Sir.”
Porsche allowed himself an audible sigh as soon as it was just him, Kinn and Pete. He looked towards Kinn. “So, what do we do now?”
“I will go with Vegas,” Pete piped up. He quickly lowered his head when Kinn narrowed his eyes at him. “Sir, I’m good at gathering intel. Vegas has the manpower to free his brother on his own, so intelligence must be what he came here for. Let me help him.” And because it was just the three of them, Pete added, “Please.”
Kinn was quiet for a long moment. Then, he took a deep breath. “I don’t know. The last time I sent you on a mission that involved Vegas, you came back with scars all over your back. Are you sure you want to go?”
They were harsh words, cruel words meant to sting like a whip, but Porsche knew that Kinn used them because they were necessary.
Porsche hadn’t been there when Pete had come back. He hadn’t been in the room when Pete had begged Kinn to keep him inside the house and Vegas out of it. But Porsche had seen the scars on Pete’s back. He had heard him scream at night. He knew enough.
Pete had gone undercover for the family and he had paid the price for getting caught.
“Are you sure?” Porsche asked, more gently than Kinn had done.
Pete gave him a small, sad smile. “He needs my help. I want to help him.”
Porsche nodded his head. “I’m coming with you.”
“No, you’re not.”
Porsche turned to glare at Kinn, but he could already tell by the sinister glint in Kinn’s eyes that Kinn wouldn’t budge.
Kinn took a step closer, his fingers curling into the back of Porsche’s waistcoat. As if he was ready to physically hold Porsche back if necessary.
Pete’s smile grew. “I will go on my own. No need to bother with this more than you already have. I will report back to you regularly.”
Kinn nodded. “Call if you need reinforcements.”
And that was the end of it.
Ever the perfectly mannered bodyguard that he was, Pete bowed his head in goodbye. “Khun Kinn. Porsche.”
Porsche watched his best friend go with a heavy heart.
He waited until Pete had left before he turned to glare at Kinn. “You could have let me go with him.”
Kinn’s hand touched his cheek. “No.”
“Kinn--”
“This is important, but not more important than you are. You left my side once for a rescue mission. I won’t endure it another time.”
“It’s a terrible idea to let Pete go alone! What if Vegas does something to him?”
Kinn’s head turned towards the door through which Pete had disappeared. “He won’t.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because Pete isn’t the only one who begged me to separate them for Pete’s safety.”
*
Pete closed the door of Kinn’s office behind himself, took two steps to the side and collapsed against the wall. His heart was pounding so hard in his chest it hurt.
He didn’t know what had gotten into him. He was definitely crazy, going in there and trying to boss his boss around like that. But he had gotten his will. He had permission to help Vegas.
Vegas. With shaking hands, he loosened his tie.
It had been a year since he’d managed to escape captivity.
Did you think I wouldn’t catch you?
Pete swallowed, shaking the memory out of his head. Vegas had done terrible things to him, but he hadn’t lied.
I will consume you.
Pete hated how much his heart stuttered at the memory of Vegas’ voice in his ear. He could remember almost everything from his time in captivity. Every word whispered into his ear. Every touch, good and bad. The line between pain and pleasure was a thin one and Vegas had brought him so much of both. Even now, the memories made his breath stutter and his toes curl with how badly he wanted to feel it again.
Willing his treacherous heart to calm down, he began to walk again. He made a short stop in his room before he took the elevator to the ground floor. There was a cleaning crew mopping up the blood from the marble flooring. Pete thanked them as he crossed the foyer.
The door to Kinn’s office on the ground floor was closed. He swallowed as he put a hand on the handle.
It had been a year since they had last seen each other. Vegas had probably forgotten all about him by now. Pete would never be able to forget, but he could do his job.
He wasn’t a fly in Vegas’ web anymore. He was a strong, skilled bodyguard, working for the most influential mafia family in the city. Its main branch.
Vegas had come for help and Pete would give it to him.
He opened the door.
*
Vegas was standing with his back to the door, a glass of Kinn’s whiskey dangling from his fingers.
Porsche had been right. The sight of him was gruesome. Pete didn’t think there was an inch of Vegas that wasn’t drenched in blood. Pete was almost thankful for it.
The sight was distracting enough that he could focus on the blood and not the fact that he was in the same room as Vegas. After so long, they were within reach of each other.
Vegas turned around at the sound of the door. “So you’re finally fucking ready to give me the time of day or--”
The glass dropped from Vegas’ hand.
Glass and liquor went everywhere.
“Pete.” Breathless. Vegas didn’t sound like that. Vegas usually spoke in a melodic ebb and flow, like a snake winding itself into one’s ear.
Pete couldn’t help himself. He stared. Vegas looked so much like Pete remembered him, and yet so different.
The lines of his face looked a little more prominent, the cut of his jaw a little bit sharper. As if he hadn’t been eating right this past year. His eyes were softer. At least as they swept over Pete’s form.
Pete lowered his head. “Khun Vegas.”
Facing the carpet, he couldn’t see Vegas’ face when Vegas said, “You look well.”
Pete acknowledged the compliment with a nod. It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter whether Vegas thought he looked well. Did he still think Pete was beautiful too? Pete shook his head. It didn’t matter. Vegas hadn’t come here for him.
Slowly, Pete raised his eyes. He couldn’t feel his legs at the moment so he stayed by the door, holding out the towel he had taken from his room. “I brought you a towel.”
For all his earlier impatience, Vegas moved towards him slowly. He didn’t seem to care that the glass shards on the floor ruined his shoes. His eyes never left Pete’s face.
As if he couldn’t quite believe that Pete was here. As if he couldn’t believe that this moment was real.
As soon as they were close enough, Vegas reached for the towel. Hesitated. Then took it. “Thank you.”
Pete nodded. He kept his eyes on Vegas’ brow as the other man wiped his face. It was a spot close enough to Vegas’ eyes that it wasn’t impolite, but spared him from direct eye contact.
Pete was scared of it. Scared what it would do to him to look Vegas in the eye. What it would make him do.
Vegas wiped his face and neck before he raised the towel to his nose. “Is this yours?”
Pete startled. “How do you know?”
“It smells like you.”
Pete swallowed, averted his eyes. “Is it true?” he asked. “They really kidnapped Macau?”
Vegas’ voice was somber when he answered, “It’s true. He got ambushed at a nightclub. They took out twenty of my men in the process. All of the guards Macau had with him. There was a ransom note too. I gave it to Kinn. I thought maybe he can do something with it.”
“I’ve seen it. There was an address on it?”
“The address was a bust. Nothing but a den with some low-life thugs who didn’t know anything.”
Pete eyed the blood left covering Vegas’ body. “I’m sure you got out of them what you could.”
Vegas grinned. It was such a natural reflex, such a genuine flash of emotion that Pete’s heart stuttered with it. His face must have changed because the smile disappeared from Vegas’ face as quickly as it had come.
“I did.” Vegas tilted his head back in a sigh, his eyes falling shut with the motion. Pete tried hard not to stare at the line of his throat.
“Why did you come here?” Pete had been wondering ever since he’d first heard Vegas’ name in the barracks this morning.
It was clear that Vegas had come to get help with Macau’s kidnapping, but of how much help could the main family really be? Vegas had money, power and men himself.
Pete had told Kinn that he’d come for intel, but was that the truth? It was impossible to guess what Vegas was thinking. There had been a time when Pete had thought he could truly understand the man in front of him, but it had been some time since then.
The light had disappeared from Vegas’ eyes since then.
Vegas lowered his head slowly and opened his eyes even slower. “I wanted to make sure of something.”
Pete frowned. “It’s not the main family that’s behind this, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
The corner of Vegas’ mouth twitched. “I know.”
“You do?”
“If Kinn wanted to punish someone for my sins, he could punish me directly. He wouldn’t hurt Macau like that. Macau hasn’t done anything to him. My brother is just a child.”
Like you were.
“I’m sorry this is happening.”
Vegas nodded. He didn’t raise his eyes when he told Pete the truth. “He’s all that I have left.”
Pete forced his expression to remain professional. Detached. Clinical. He cleared his throat and bowed his head. This was just another mission.
“Khun Kinn has assigned me to your side for the time being. Any way I can help you, I’m at your disposal.”
Vegas raised his eyes slowly. “Kinn’s allowing you to leave this place? With me?”
Pete took a deep breath in. He turned around. He walked towards the door. Pushing down the handle, he made sure to keep his voice even when he said, “I was never not allowed to leave.”
*
It was much too beautiful of a summer’s day for the kind of mission they were on.
Pete couldn’t stop thinking about it as they walked out of the doors of the Theerapanyakul mansion. The sun was high in the sky, but there were enough clouds that the heat wasn’t too suffocating. The faint scent of flowers wafted over from the gardens. It was nice.
It was easier to think about the weather than the fact that he was leaving the estate for the first time since he’d come back. With the very same person that was the reason he’d chosen to stay inside the high stone walls for so long.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Porsche smoking with some of the perimeter guards near the exit. Porsche almost managed to make it look like he wasn’t watching them. It made Pete smile.
It didn’t stop him from following Vegas to his car.
It was a different model than the one Pete remembered, but that wasn’t surprising. All of the men in the Theerapanyakul family, whether main or minor branch, loved to continuously expand their collection of cars.
The car unlocked with a beep and Pete got into the passenger seat.
He startled when he found Vegas watching him from the driver’s seat.
“What is it?”
“Nothing, I just didn’t think you would get in.”
“I know you won’t do anything to me.” Pete held Vegas’ gaze as he said it.
Truthfully, he wasn’t as sure of that as he sounded. It was merely something he hoped for, but there were no guarantees when it came to Vegas.
Pete didn’t lie to himself. He would have gotten into the car anyways.
“You need my help so you won’t do anything to me, at least until after we’ve found Macau.”
Vegas looked away from him, facing forward and taking the car out of park. “Seatbelt,” he reminded him.
“See, you are concerned about my safety!”
It was supposed to be a joke, but Vegas didn’t answer. Pete ignored the embarrassed burn to his cheeks. He buckled his seatbelt.
The engine came to life with the press of a button and then Vegas was steering the supercar off the property.
They passed through the gate where Porsche was still standing, smoking. Pete waved. Porsche flicked the butt of his cigarette onto the hood of the car before he raised his hand to his ear in a call-me-if-anything-goes-wrong motion.
Pete looked towards Vegas to see his reaction. Vegas only lightly swerved the car to get the cigarette butt of the hood.
“We should go to the club where Macau was taken first,” Pete said once they were on the road. “If the address on the paper was a bust, then that’s probably our best chance.”
Vegas nodded, looking eternally tired as he maneuvered the car around a shuttle bus and it was then that Pete realised, with everything going on, it had most likely been more than 24 hours since Vegas had last slept.
“Let me put the address in the navigation system for you.”
Vegas nodded again. The grip he had on the steering wheel was white-knuckled.
Pete felt something inside him soften. That wasn’t supposed to happen, but Pete wasn’t going to spend any energy on checking his own feelings right now. “We’re going to find him.”
Vegas didn’t answer right away. When he did, his voice sounded desolate. “They might have killed him already.”
“I don’t think so. If Macau was taken by some thugs, they would lose their chance at money. And if it was another family, they would be aware that killing him would mean war. Worst case…,” Pete hesitated.
“He comes out of it like Tankhun?” Vegas let out a humourless laugh. “Yeah, I’ve thought about that too.”
Pete felt the distinct need to defend his main charge. “It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Khun Tankhun has a lot of good qualities.”
Vegas bared his teeth when a motorbike in front of them cut them off. He hit the steering wheel, just once. “I don’t care if my brother turns into a nutcase, Pete. I’m worried that it would make him vulnerable. Even more vulnerable than he is. What would happen to him if I die?”
“You’re not going to die.”
Vegas pressed his foot down on the pedal, to overtake the motorbike and every other vehicle in front of them. “You should know better than to make such promises.”
*
The club was in an old, renovated factory building. Despite the daylight hour, it was dark inside and Pete’s eyes needed a moment to adjust to the blue, purple and pink neonlighting.
Pete could kind of understand why Macau liked coming here. It was precisely the kind of club that would be popular with a younger crowd. Instagramable , as Ché had taught him to call such flashy interior design.
“They really took the name Neon Jungle seriously, huh?” Pete pointed at the fake vines hanging from the ceiling. “Look, they even got little plush animals sitting on the beams!”
He looked down when Vegas didn’t answer him. The last time Pete had checked, Vegas had been next to him, surveying the premises much in the same way he was doing. Vegas was still next to him, but now he was staring at Pete.
“What?”
“Nothing. I just like seeing you smile. I was never good at making you smile so…” He nodded at the ceiling. “Cool vines.”
Pete inhaled. Exhaled. Gasped when Vegas suddenly stepped close to him, his arm sliding around Pete’s waist. Pete was just deciding whether he needed to punch Vegas, but then he noticed the host approaching them.
“I’m so sorry, but we’re closed at the moment.” The employee gave them a well-practiced customer smile. “If you’re looking for a place to party, we’d love to see you tonight, though!”
“We’re not looking for a place to party. We are looking for a place to spend some money, though. Is your boss around?” Vegas glanced over the host’s shoulder. “Me and my partner would like to talk about an investment opportunity with him.”
At the mention of money, the employee regarded Vegas with newfound interest. Now Pete understood why Vegas had changed out of his blood-stained clothes before they had entered the club. He looked nice in his suit. Its understated design pointed towards very expensive tailoring.
The employee’s eyes caught on the watch around Vegas’ wrist and his smile turned a lot more sincere. “Of course, Sir, please follow me.”
They were led through the main room and up a set of stairs. They entered a secluded room with windows that pointed towards the main room of the club.
“Please, take a seat in the VIP lounge. I will notify my boss of your presence and bring him here promptly.”
The employee waited until they had sat down on one of the pink velvet couches inside before he left them with a bow.
Sinking into the couch, Vegas didn’t let go of Pete’s waist, despite Pete’s attempts to put some respectable distance between them.
“Vegas!” Pete hissed at him as soon as they were alone. “Why did you tell him that we’re partners?”
Vegas smiled, that stupid smirk that somehow still made Pete’s knees feel weak. “Are you not my partner on this mission?”
“You know that’s not how he understood it!”
Vegas leaned into his proximity. There was no reason for him to be so close. There was no reason for Pete’s heart to be beating so fast. “My first plan was to just shoot everyone who couldn’t give me an answer, but you would’ve liked that even less, wouldn’t you have?”
Pete rolled his eyes, but Vegas had a point so he stayed quiet. He didn’t try to get out of Vegas’ reach again. Vegas wanted to present them as lovers? Fine, Pete could play along.
A stocky man in his fifties entered their room, bringing with him a distinct waft of liquor and cigarette smoke. He regarded them with sharp eyes, but they seemed to pass his test because not a moment later, a grin stretched over his face.
“The name’s Boss,” he introduced himself.
Pete made good of the years of experience he had in keeping an impassive face and didn’t snort at the man’s name. His parents must have made a lot of merit for him to actually become a successful club boss.
Pete got up before Vegas had the chance to react. “Khun Boss, it’s a pleasure to meet you! I’m Pong and this is my husband Vet.”
He sat back down, all but draping himself over Vegas’ shoulder. Vegas, who had grown very, very quiet beside him now that Pete’s hand was on his thigh.
“Pleasure to meet you both.” Boss sat down on the couch opposite of them. “I’ve been told you’re interested in investing in my club?”
The smell of sweat and cigars wafted over to them. Pete could tell with one look that Boss wasn’t much more than a big mouth behind his semi-successful business.
He was glad. It meant the man wasn’t a threat.
Vegas nodded at the man. “I’ve heard you’ve been quite successful in your ventures lately and Thong Lor is prime real estate. So we thought we could visit and see whether the club lives up to its good name.”
“Oh, it certainly does.” Boss eyed them more closely. Pete melted more against Vegas’ side. “Say, what business do you run that you’re interested in investing in my club?”
“Liquor,” Pete answered immediately. It wasn’t even a lie. The Theerapanyakul empire encompassed several drink manufacturers and distilleries. “We manufacture top shelf liquor to be distributed at the venues we are in contract with.”
“Of course, the clubs we collaborate with have to fit our brand,” Vegas added. “I heard there was some trouble at this club yesterday? Does that happen often?”
Boss hastily waved them off. “Oh no, not at all! Yesterday was just a little scuffle between some drunken friends. Nothing the cleaning crew couldn’t clean up this morning. This is a very resputable club and our customers are just as refined.”
Vegas smiled. It was glaringly fake to Pete’s eyes, but he was someone who knew Vegas well. Normal people rarely noticed the devil inside Vegas before it was too late.
“That’s a relief to hear. So no one got hurt yesterday?”
“No one. Our club guarantees a safe, pleasurable experience for all our clients. Especially those of high profile.”
Pete clapped his hands. “This sounds great, then! Doesn’t that sound great, honey?”
Vegas’ eyes were alight with hellfire as he smiled back at Pete. “It does.”
Pete decided to tread a little more lightly then. He’d gone all out with the lovey-dovey act to get revenge on Vegas for presenting them as a couple, but he knew it was better not to provoke Vegas too much.
Not right now.
“What did you say the name of your company was again?” Boss asked.
Vegas held Pete’s gaze for a moment longer before he turned his head. “Lord Grey Liquor.”
“I’ve never heard of that before.”
Vegas’ smile didn’t waver. “We’re relatively new at the market. We did luxury car imports before. Have you ever driven a Ferrari?”
Boss shook his head.
Vegas kept smiling even as he got up. “You should visit our dealership sometime then. Our business partners are always welcome to take one of our show models out for a spin.”
Pete always wanted to laugh at the thinly veiled excitement in Boss’ eyes. It was so easy to catch men like him. You just had to dangle a nice toy in front of their eyes and they turned into little boys. Just as excited. Just as easily manipulated.
“That sounds amazing!”
Pete got up as well. “If you’re interested in becoming business partners, we’ll contact our lawyer and draft up an offer.” He exchanged a quick glance with Vegas. “Otherwise, we’ll have to leave now, I fear.”
Vegas nodded, his hand returning to the small of Pete’s back. “We’ll have our assistant send over the details. Including a time that you can come to the dealership, of course.”
He finished with a smile and Pete tried his hardest not to choke on the laughter bubbling up in his throat. He really wasn’t made for spy work. As if Vegas hadn’t already proven that to him a year earlier.
Boss seemed oblivious as he waved them off, clearly already driving the Ferrari in his dreams. “Send me a bottle of your liquor some time!” he called after them.
Pete wanted to bow in goodbye, but Vegas had already gotten hold of his hand, dragging him out of the VIP lounge. Pete had thought they were leaving the club right away, so he yelped when Vegas pulled him into the next bathroom they passed.
The air whooshed out of his lungs as he was pushed up against the door, Vegas’ body a solid cage around him.
“Vegas!” he gasped, struggling to escape the hold on him but it was of no use. So he went limp instead and finally Vegas pulled far enough away from him so that their eyes could meet.
“What are we doing in here?” Pete asked him quietly.
Vegas’ eyes were pitch black in the overhead light, flickering back and forth between the devil inside and the man underneath, almost out of reach but always holding onto Pete.
Pete knew he was.
“Why did you do that?” Vegas asked him.
“Do what?”
“You know what. In there, you--”
“What?” Pete tilted his head like he was still oblivious. “Did it bother you that I continued the game you started? What’s wrong, honey, I thought we were partners? Did you not like playing with me?”
Vegas bared his teeth in anger and Pete thought he was leaning in to hiss words into his ear that would break him, but instead Vegas’ voice was quiet, almost pleading when he spoke, “I’m trying, Pete.”
“Trying what?”
“Trying to be a good person. Trying not to do what I want to do to you.” So close. Vegas’ lips were so close to his neck. “Can’t you help me out a little, Pete?”
Pete felt his knees go weak and so he pushed himself up on his feet. Unfortunately, that also pushed him closer against Vegas’ body and Pete couldn’t help himself. He leaned into it when Vegas’ arms closed around his body.
Tightly, Vegas embraced him so tightly. Pete couldn’t remember the last time he’d been held like this. But then he could.
He didn’t know whether he was being weak or selfish as he wrapped his arms around Vegas in return. There was not a millimetre between them and Pete could feel Vegas’ heart beat against his own. His dreams and nightmares and reality all melted together and left him clinging to the one thing that was a constant in all of them.
Vegas’ hands were so gentle as they moved up and down his back. As if Pete didn’t know what they could do. As if he didn’t want it all.
“Vegas,” Pete forced himself to say after a minute. The ugly truth was that he didn’t want to let go, but he had to. “We should go.”
To his surprise, Vegas let him go easily. “You’re right.” Pete was shocked when Vegas’ face looked a little pink under the neon light. “Just give me a minute, will you?”
Pete was confused for a moment but then he looked down between them.
“Oh, I see.”
He couldn’t quite contain his grin as he left the bathroom and went to the car first.
Once he was sat in the passenger seat, he pulled out his phone and sent Porsche a quick update. He had just pressed send on the text when Vegas returned to the car.
“All good?” Pete asked him.
Vegas nodded, adjusting his pants before he buckled himself in. Pete could physically see the tension return to his body as he wrapped his hands around the steering wheel.
“So that was a bust.”
Pete hummed in agreement. “Boss was obviously lying when he said that no one got hurt yesterday, but I think he was telling the truth when he said the club doesn’t usually get roughed up like that. The whole incident with Macau must have taken them by surprise too if he was that eager to pretend it never happened.”
“So we have nothing.” Vegas gritted his teeth. “I should have just shot him.”
“Murder isn’t always the way, Vegas.”
“I should have just shot him in the knee.”
Pete snorted. “There must be something else we can try first. Did you take a photo of the ransom note? Maybe there’s something on it we missed.”
“I already went to the address, but fuck it, we might as well check again.”
Vegas handed him his phone before he pulled off the lot in front of the club. Pete unlocked the phone by typing in the numbers Vegas dictated.
“Am I going to be traumatised if I open your photo app?”
“No.”
Pete squinted at him before he clicked on the icon. He was shocked by its contents. Not because he found any explicit images inside. Rather, he was surprised by how wholesome everything was.
There were pictures of the sunset on different days, pictures of a grey cat that Pete didn’t know, and very rarely photos of Vegas himself. Most of them were selfies that Macau seemed to have taken with him, using Vegas’ phone.
“No gore, none of your little video clips. I’m surprised.”
“It should be the most recent picture,” Vegas said, ignoring Pete’s goading.
Pete smiled as he clicked on it, his expression faltering when the ransom note popped up. He frowned as he read through the lines over and over again.
Eventually, he looked up. “Do you have a navigation system in this car?”
Vegas pressed two buttons on the screen built into the dashboard and the navigation app opened. Pete bit his lip as he copied the address.
“That’s not it,” Vegas said with a glance at the screen. “The street name is wrong.”
“I thought that too but look at this. The initial line of this p looks a little wonky. It could also be a b. If the note was written hastily, then maybe someone messed up the letter or accidentally confused them. In any case, look at what comes up when you put the address in like that.”
Vegas frowned at the screen. “This is not some den in the outskirts. This is in the city centre.”
Pete pulled out his own phone, copying the address into the search engine. “It’s a hotel. It’s--” Pete cut himself off when he read the name of the hotel, his heart sinking in his chest.
“What is it Pete?”
Pete bit the inside of his cheek. He couldn’t say it out loud. Vegas was driving and he would get so upset and--
“Pete, talk to me,” Vegas demanded. Patience wasn’t his strong suit and Pete had tested a lot of it already today.
He waited until they weren’t overtaking any cars before he said, “The name is Golden Sunset Hotel. It’s part of a hotel chain which is owned by--”
“Theerapanyakul Hospitality.”
“Vegas…”
Vegas’ grip around the steering wheel turned white-knuckled. “Don’t say anything right now, Pete.”
“But--”
“Pete!” Vegas roared and Pete hastily snapped his mouth shut.
He gripped the leather seat behind him for dear life as Vegas accelerated. He was just glad Vegas didn’t whip the car around and took them right back to where they had started. To where it all had started, it seemed.
“It might not be what it looks like,” Pete dared to say after they had made it through a bad traffic clog and Vegas seemed a little calmer weaving their car through the traffic.
“Really? Tell me that this doesn’t make it look like my cousin had my brother kidnapped to get revenge on me.”
“You said yourself that Khun Kinn wouldn’t--”
“I know what I fucking said!” Vegas hit the steering wheel several times in quick succession.
“I’m sorry.”
Vegas stopped hitting the steering wheel, his shoulders slumping. Pete was surprised by how quickly Vegas’ anger had burned out. He looked so tired.
“If it’s any consolation, that probably means Macau is unharmed?”
Vegas let out an ugly laugh. “You think the fact that it was Kinn who did this is any consolation?”
“Well, I just think--”
“Yes, I know you think oh-so-highly of him. You’re his loyal dog after all. Never willing to leave his side. And why would you? The great Khun Kinn just invites you to admire him, doesn’t he?”
“Vegas,” Pete said softly. “You know that’s not how it is.”
Vegas shook his head.
Pete swallowed against the hurt in his chest, coming from so many different directions.
Vegas’ misguided anger aside, Pete didn’t want to believe that Khun Kinn had set up this entire thing. But then what other explanation could there be? A rival family wouldn’t take Macau to one of the family’s hotels.
Trying to think about it made Pete’s head hurt.
They spent the rest of the ride in silence, Pete texting with Arm to get floor plans of the building while Vegas quietly fumed next to him.
He was just about to put his phone away when it rang. He looked towards Vegas. “It’s Porsche.”
Vegas didn’t comment on that, but his silence was loud enough. Pete rejected the call.
It was quiet for two seconds before Porsche was calling him again. Pete rejected the call again and sent a quick text, I’m fine.
Call me!! Porsche sent back.
Pete sighed and locked his phone. He wouldn’t get on the phone with Porsche right now. He still wasn’t sure what was going on, but he knew that whatever he told Porsche, Kinn would hear. And if Kinn truly was behind all of this, then it was better not to let him know yet what they had found out.
“We’ve arrived.”
Pete looked up to find that they were standing on the parking lot of the Golden Sunset Hotel. Vegas got out of the car first and Pete hurried to follow him.
Worried about what else Vegas might use it for, Pete grabbed onto his hand as they walked into the foyer. It made Vegas falter in his step, his eyes falling to where Pete was intertwining their fingers.
“Please, don’t shoot anyone,” Pete pleaded.
Vegas looked up at him slowly and Pete could see it, how he slowly but surely forced down the urge to kill everyone in sight.
Pete gave him a smile as soon as they had made it through the foyer and into one of the elevators. “Thank you.”
“I’m going to get my brother out of here,” Vegas said as he pressed the button for the penthouse floor. “No matter the cost.”
Pete nodded. He understood that. “Macau will be fine.” It were weak words of consolation, but a strong promise.
Vegas let go of his hand. “If he’s not in the penthouse, we’re going to work our way down. Macau will have cussed up a storm the entire time they were moving him. Kinn won’t have risked any of the normal clientele seeing or hearing that so they probably took a private elevator up.”
Pete nodded. He felt a twinge of nervousness as he watched the number on the elevator go up. If it was truly Kinn who was behind all this, then he was about to face a huge conflict of interest.
He’d been assigned to help Vegas on this mission, but his boss was still Kinn. His personal feelings aside, he didn’t know who he was supposed to point his gun at when the time came.
Vegas must have had the same thoughts, because he was already looking at Pete when Pete turned his head to look at him.
A dire smile tugged on the corner of Vegas’ mouth. “He’s really smart.”
“What?”
“My cousin. He’s really smart. Sending you here with me. That’s probably the smartest thing he’s ever done.”
“Why?”
The elevator doors opened. Vegas held his gaze, the two of them staying still while the world continued to move around them. Just for a moment. “Because he knows I won’t do anything to you.”
Vegas left the elevator first and Pete followed him. Pete pulled his gun as they approached the door of the penthouse suite, even if he knew he wouldn’t be able to use it. Vegas didn’t bother knocking. He pressed the muzzle of his gun against the lock and shot the door open.
Pete was surprised by the lack of noise that followed. He had expected a storm of men to come running towards them, firing shots. Instead, there was silence.
Pete thought that they were in the wrong room and had to move down to the next floor like Vegas had said, but then the ringing in his ears from Vegas’ gunshot stopped and he heard voices. They were tinny though, flat as if coming from a TV.
He exchanged a glance with Vegas and they moved further into the penthouse, rounding the corner into the living area.
The TV was on as Pete had expected and sitting on the sofa opposite of it was Macau, lounging amidst a sea of empty crisp bags and chocolate bar wrappers. Macau turned his head once he heard them coming.
Vegas broke into a sprint as soon as he saw his brother. Pete ran after him, hurrying to cover his back, but there was no need to worry. Pete checked their surroundings over and over, but there was no one else. No goons, none of his colleagues either. Except for Macau, Vegas and him, the penthouse seemed to be empty.
“Macau!” Vegas all but threw himself on top of his brother. Frantically, he pulled his brother up and into a hug before checking him for injuries.
“Hi, bro!” Macau happily leaned into the hug Vegas gave him.
Pete was relieved to see the kid fed, happy and unharmed, but it also confused him. None of this made sense. He knew it was out of line for him to ask, but at that moment he didn’t care. “What is going on here?”
“Hi, P’Pete.” Macau gave him a huge smile. It only grew as he glanced back and forth between Vegas and Pete. “I was hoping this would work.”
“What would work?”
“Where are your kidnappers?” Vegas asked, his gun still held tightly in his hand.
Macau glanced down at the weapon. “Could you put the gun down? You might get mad in a second.”
“Macau.” Vegas’ voice turned a lot cooler, a lot more big-brother-like. “What did you do?”
Pete looked around once more. “There are no kidnappers, are there?” It wasn’t really a question.
Macau looked sheepish as he nodded. “There are no kidnappers.”
“What?” Vegas asked. “Why would you do something like this then?”
Pete had the same question. Before he could press for an answer, a loud bang made all three of them jump. It was muffled, coming from several stories down below, but Pete knew the sound of a gunshot when he heard it.
He looked at the youngest in the room. “Macau?”
Wide-eyed, Macau shook his head. “That wasn’t me.”
“What the fuck,” Vegas cursed in English, checking the magazine of his gun to see how many bullets he had.
In Pete’s pocket, his phone vibrated again. This time, he picked up. “Porsche?”
“Pete!” Porsche yelled into his ear. “Are you at the hotel? Golden--shit, Arm, what was it?”
“Golden Sunset Hotel?” Pete gritted his teeth. “Yes, that’s where we are. Macau is here. We found him.”
“Fuck, okay.” Porsche sounded out of breath, as if he was running. “Listen to me, Pete, you don’t understand what’s happening! Whatever scheme that stupid kid came up with, that’s not what’s happening anymore!”
Pete frowned as Vegas took his gun and checked the magazine for him too before pressing it back into his hand. “I’m not following, Porsche.”
Porsche cursed and in the background, Pete could hear the familar sound of car doors being thrown shut. Porsche’s next words were a lot less resounding. He must have entered a car.
“Porsche, what’s happening?”
“So, I may have asked Arm to dig into the whole thing when you left and it turns out he found more than we bargained for. Those guys Vegas beat up when he was trying to find information? It turns out they weren’t just hanging around that abandoned factory for shits and giggles. A rival family uses that factory as a transshipment point for their drug imports.”
Pete felt his heart sink. “I guess they weren’t a fan of what Vegas did to their men?”
“Not at all. The whole incident messed up a major drug deal for them. They’re coming to get revenge, Pete.”
Another bang sounded below their feet. Pete watched as the humanity disappeared from Vegas’ face. He stepped in front of his little brother and placed Macau’s hand on his hip so Macau would stay behind him.
Pete felt something in himself harden and finally, years of training returned to him. “How many?”
“If you’re still at the hotel, you need to get out of there right now! The rival family isn’t that big so it’s only a small operation that’s coming for you, but they’re too many for you to handle on your own. Running is your best chance.”
Pete wanted to ask more, but then another loud bang, way closer, made him drop his phone. The screen shattered when it hit the ground. Pete didn’t bother to pick it up. He turned towards Vegas and Macau.
“They’re right below us,” Vegas said, his eyes dark as they fixated on the ground.
“We have to go,” Pete said. “Macau, from now on you stay behind us, you hear me?”
Macau nodded, wide eyes terrified. “I’m sorry,” he said as they hurried out of the room. “I didn’t mean for anything bad to happen.”
“We’ll talk about this later,” Vegas said.
Pete huffed a sigh of relief when he saw that the hallway in front of the door was clear. The blinking sign above the elevators signalled that one of them was coming up. It made Pete veer towards the stairs.
They had twenty floors to go down, but it was their best chance. He pried the heavy metal door to the emergency staircase open and kept his gun cocked as he led the way down.
Vegas and Macau were right behind him.
“I just wanted you to see him again, P’. You weren’t going to go there on your own, so I just wanted to help you out. I didn’t know it was going to end up like this.”
There was no anger in Vegas’ voice when he said, “Later, Macau. I promise I’m not mad. Just later.”
“But--” Pete unceremoniously turned around and slapped a hand over Macau’s mouth when the sound of yelling rang out from several stories above them.
The goons had entered the staircase, their angry voices echoing against the concrete walls. It was impossible to tell how many there were.
Vegas. It was Vegas they were after. Pete felt an overwhelming, all-consuming feeling of resolution spread all throughout his body. They couldn’t have him. He wouldn’t let them come near.
Letting go of Macau, Pete reached over and heaved open the exit door on their floor. They had only made it down to the twelfth floor, but it had to be good enough. With enough time, Vegas and Macau would find another exit and make it out.
“Go,” he told them, holding the door open with his foot.
Macau didn’t move fast enough for his liking, so he grabbed the kid by the shoulder and pushed him into the nice hotel hallway that lay beyond. Vegas didn’t move.
“No,” Vegas said.
A gunshot rang out in the staircase.
Pete looked up to where concrete was raining down the void between the stairs and then back down at his charges. A new sense of urgency joined the stone cold resolution in his chest. “Vegas--”
“No!” Vegas roared at him.
Pete didn’t hesitate to yell right back, “Stop trying to argue! I’m still a bodyguard and you’re still a son of the family I swore my life to. Now go!”
Vegas still didn’t move. Quieter but just as resolute as Pete felt, he said, “I’m not leaving you behind, Pete.”
Pete stomped his foot in impatience. He didn’t have time for this. “Someone has to get Macau out of here and that someone is you, Vegas, now go!”
Vegas stared at him, so much anger and hatred in his eyes. Pete knew it wasn’t directed at him. It was directed at the situation and his own helplessness. Because Vegas knew Pete was right.
“Pete--”
Pete nearly went deaf when another gunshot rang out and a piece of wall to his right exploded with the impact of the bullet.
“You said ‘no matter the cost’ so do it! Go!” Pete yelled and then pushed Vegas through the door. He threw the metal door shut, banging against it twice for them to go before he ran back up the stairs he had come down from.
The moment the first goon came into sight, he fired his gun. The goon went down and Pete dove down to dodge the bullets raining down on him. He shot two, three more people before he had a clear path but the noise from the stairs above his head told him that the fight wasn’t over. He pried open the next exit door he passed. He made sure to lock the door in its open position before he ran down the hotel hallway.
Blood was rushing in his ears as he looked for any sign of an open room door, any place he could hide. He didn’t get the chance to try and find safety because too quickly a group of armed men entered the hallway. Pete counted half a dozen heads.
Before the first bullets started flying, he pressed himself into the closest doorway and started firing shots of his own. He managed to shoot three, four, five of the goons before his magazine ran out.
A dire laugh escaped his lips.
He’d fired countless bullets in his life and now, when he needed it the most, the lack of a single bullet in his chamber was going to cost him his life. In a way, it was cosmic irony.
He waited until the last goon stopped firing to reload before he moved. Slowly, very slowly he stepped out of the doorway and raised his hands. Time seemed to pass in slow-motion as the goon raised his gun again.
“Are you that bastard?” the man called out.
Pete smiled at him. “I sure am.”
He thought about nothing but Vegas and Macau leaving this place as he closed his eyes. Like this, he could picture it. Them reaching the ground floor. Them getting into the car and driving far, far away from here.
There was no solace for Pete except for the fact that he had been successful in his mission. They had saved Macau and in that, Pete had also saved the last, unscathed piece of Vegas’s soul.
It was something he didn’t regret dying for.
A deafening gunshot resounded through the hallway and Pete braced himself for the impact of the bullet that would kill him. It never came.
Confused, he opened his eyes, but then he was already lifted off his feet. Instinctively, he held onto Vegas’ shoulders as the other embraced him. Over Vegas’ shoulder, he could see the body of the last goon, half his brains splattered on the ground next to him.
“You’re fine,” Vegas said into his ear, over and over again. Pete had the feeling he was talking more to himself than to Pete.
“I’m fine?” Pete asked once he finally remembered how to breathe. He repeated himself more firmly when he realised that, indeed, he had not just been shot to death, “I’m fine!” He couldn’t help the laughter that escaped him. Then he wriggled out of Vegas’ grip to hit him in the chest. “What are you doing here?!”
Vegas glared at him, catching his hands. “I told you I’m not fucking leaving you behind! You’re coming with me, Pete, whether you want to or not.”
I want to, Pete wanted to say, but he didn’t get the chance to when there was the familiar click of a gun’s safety being switched off. He knew it wasn’t Vegas’ gun.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one of the goons he had shot at lift his arm.
“Vegas!” he warned, trying to push him out of the way, but it was too late. Or Vegas simply didn’t move. His expression was stony, unmovable as he took the same half-step to the side that Pete did to cover him.
The gunfire was deafening.
Pete watched in horror as pain exploded over Vegas’ face and he fell to the ground. Pete went down with him.
A sound ripped from his throat that he had never heard himself make before. Red filled his vision as he grabbed Vegas’ gun and fired. He emptied the entire magazine until he was sure everyone in the hallway except for him and Vegas was truly dead.
As soon as the magazine was empty, he dropped the gun and focussed on Vegas. The front of Vegas’ shirt was rapidly turning red, spreading and spreading further across the fabric as blood spilled past the fingers Pete pressed down on his wound.
“Vegas,” he begged.
A blood-stained hand reached up to touch his cheek before it dropped. Vegas smiled at him. “Pete.”
Vegas looked so young in that moment, like a boy just looking at his most beloved possession. Something he no longer owned, and yet he was willing to die for.
Pete felt tears spring to his eyes. “You’re such a stupid idiot!” he scolded. “Why did you do that?!”
It took way too long for Vegas to answer, “I needed to make sure you were all right.”
It only took Pete a moment to understand that Vegas wasn’t talking about the now. Pete remembered it, what Vegas had told him in Kinn’s office when Pete had asked why Vegas had come to the house.
I wanted to make sure of something.
Tears sprung to Pete’s eyes. “Vegas.”
Vegas’ smile widened. Blood spilled over his lips, sliding down the corners of his mouth. “I thought that if they knew to take Macau…they might know about you too. I needed to make sure they hadn’t gotten to you.” He took in a raking breath. Their eyes widened at the same time. Something was very wrong. “I needed to make sure you were all right.”
Vegas’ smile dropped at his next breath and Pete saw something in Vegas’ eyes he’d never seen before. Fear. “Pete.”
“Vegas.”
Fingers reached for his face again, but this time they didn’t quite manage the distance. Instead, Vegas’ fingers found his shirt, lightly curling into the fabric. “I don’t want…to die. Not yet…not when I’ve just gotten to see you again.”
“You’re not going to die.” Pete pressed down on the wound, put all his weight on it.
Vegas’ mouth fell open in another smile. More blood spilt down the corners of his mouth. “Thank you.”
Pete’s heart constricted. “Don’t you dare say that!”
“Thank you,” Vegas repeated, over and over until his voice faded into a whisper. “Thank you for…showing me…a different way.”
Pete remembered it. All the times he had seen Vegas cry in his room and how the devil had taken over then to save Vegas’ soul from fracturing any further. There was no devil that came out to save him now.
There was only blood. So much of it, Pete wanted to tear open his veins and share his own, if only that would have been of help.
There were voices now, familiar faces descending on them. Someone called out his name. Hands reached out for him, tried to drag him away but he wouldn’t let them.
“Vegas,” he begged, holding on.
He had wasted so much time. He had waited a year to get over his own feelings and now his time had been reduced to minutes, seconds. He wasn’t ready to let go.
“Thank you,” Vegas said again and Pete could hear it so clearly. What had always been there, in every sentence Vegas had said to him since the moment they had reunited.
“Thank you.” I love you.
And then Vegas didn’t say any more at all.
*
Pete considered the piles of clothes on his bed. He didn’t know what to pack and what to leave. There had been a time when he had enjoyed fashion on his days off, but now he felt little attachment to any of the clothes he owned.
It was the same with most things in his life these days.
With a sigh, he grabbed the first of the piles and shoved in his bag, repeating the process until there was no more space to fill. He had just successfully closed the zipper on the bag when a voice rang out behind him,
“So, this is how you leave me?”
Pete jumped at the unexpected sound, spinning around. “Khun Tankhun!” Hastily, he bowed.
Tankhun let out a whistle as he pushed off the door frame and came closer. “A fine bag you have packed there. Is this a high-class brand? You’ve spent your salary well, I see.”
“Khun Tankhun.” Pete rightened his tie. He had loosened it earlier, feeling suffocated. “May I ask what you’re doing here? Where are Arm and Pol?”
“Outside the door, obviously.” Tankhun smiled as he flopped down on Porsche’s bed. He picked up the stuffed penguin Porsche slept with (a gift from his brother) before he discarded the plushie as too mean of a steal and focussed all of his attention on Pete.
“My brother told me you were leaving. You didn’t even come to say goodbye. Do you hold a grudge against me?”
Pete was so taken aback he needed a moment to find his words. “I…I didn’t think you would care that much.”
“Of course I’d care! We’ve been hanging out for years, haven’t we? I was really sad when Kinn told me! So, tell me, are you mad at me?”
“You knew Macau faked his own kidnapping.” Pete had spent his two weeks out of commission rolling over every minute of that day in his head, and the conversation he had had with Tankhun stuck out to him. “You told me to enjoy the show. Did you know then already that Vegas and I were on a fool’s errand?”
“Of course.” Tankhun’s eyes glittered. “I greatly dislike my dreadful cousin, but he has always kept Macau well-protected. No thug would have come within two metres of the little brat if Macau hadn’t purposefully instigated the whole thing.”
It were only years of handling Tankhun’s insanity that allowed Pete to keep his voice gentle. “Then why didn’t you say anything?”
Tankhun clacked his tongue, as if the answer was obvious. “Don’t you know that I love a good drama? To be fair, I wasn’t completely sure whether it was going to be a tragedy or a comedy, but I was sure it would be entertaining nonetheless. How could I have put a stop to that?”
Pete had once learned that if you didn’t have anything nice to say, it was better not to say anything. So he didn’t respond.
Tankhun stopped playing with the duvet on Porsche’s bed and when he looked up at Pete, his expression was so serious it was almost as if he wasn’t crazy at all. “I thought that if it finally got you out of this house, it might be worth a shot.”
Before Pete could respond, Tankhun’s expression faltered and the crazed gleam in his eyes was back. “You know I’m very fond of going out myself! We should do that some time!”
Pete felt something inside him soften. “Khun Tankhun, I’m leaving.”
Tankhun waved his hand. “Yes, yes, I know. But surely you will come to visit?”
Despite himself, Pete smiled. “Surely.”
Tankhun clapped, jumping to his feet. “Magnificent, then I can let you go. Now, if you’ve finished packing, there’s a whole line of people waiting outside who want to hug you goodbye. You shouldn’t keep them waiting.”
Pete felt his smile grow. Despite everything, it was good to be loved. “I shouldn’t.”
*
Pete wasn’t used to driving a motorcycle, so he was quite happy when his feet touched solid ground again. If it hadn’t been Porsche who had pressed the keys to the Ducati into his hand, he might have insisted on taking the bus instead.
“It’s the fastest way to get back here, if you ever want to,” Porsche had told him and how could Pete have rejected that? Not at all.
Not when Porsche had looked so close to crying, clutching Kinn’s arm for reassurance.
Kinn had been calmer about the whole ordeal, simply giving Pete a nod.
They had talked in private, working out the details of their agreement and Pete knew that a release from his duties to the main family was the greatest gift Kinn could have given him.
He dismounted the motorcycle on shaky legs and made sure to lock it properly before he walked down the vendor alley that masked the real entrance to the house. His appearance didn’t go unnoticed, but no one dared to stop him until he had made it to the main doors.
He was running an errand for Khun Kinn, he told the guards. Begrudgingly, they let him pass.
The house was dark. Unusually so. The mansion of the second family had always been more colourful in its design, with gaudy tapestries and eccentric art pieces in every corner. Now, every room Pete passed through was darkened by black-out curtains. There was barely any staff he came across either. Pete knew that the second family didn’t lack the means, so it must have been a conscious decision.
He crossed room after room until he made it to the inner courtyard. It was a lovely day, sunny but not too hot. A light breeze swayed the leaves of the palm trees. Pete would have chosen to sit out here too.
“Don’t you think it’s rude to not greet your guest face to face? Getting shot isn’t really an excuse for a lack of manners.”
Vegas turned his head at the sound of his voice. Pete understood now why he sat in the sun. He looked deadly pale where he was sitting on a sun lounger, the undone upper buttons of his shirt revealing the gauze covering the greater part of his torso.
Over the edge his sunglasses, Vegas raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t come see me at the hospital. Why would I see you now?”
Pete couldn’t help but laugh. It was so petty. It was so honest. “I was busy.”
He sat down on the lounge chair, pushing Vegas’ legs out of the way. Vegas let out a protestant noise.
Sitting so close, Pete could see his eyes through the tinted glass. Could see how Vegas looked at him and then quickly looked away.
“Why are you here?”
“I’m here to give you a message from Khun Kinn, of course.”
Vegas worked hard to seem unaffected, but Pete had seen the excitement in him when Pete had shown up, and he could see just as well when it disappeared.
“I see. Did Kinn have a lot of fun, laughing about my failure?”
“Khun Kinn was a little too busy remedying your mistake to laugh.”
Annihilation. That was what Pete had been busy with, too. It had taken some time to eradicate the rival family that had attacked them, but they had managed in the end.
“So what does Kinn want, if he’s already taken care of everything like you said?”
Pete straightened out his posture.“What happened was unforeseen, but it was a disaster nonetheless. The fault lies with you, of course. As you said yourself once, your brother is merely a child. You should have known about Macau’s plan. All the blame falls on you.”
Vegas nodded as if he had expected as much. “So what punishment does Kinn see fit?”
Pete tried very hard to keep a straight face as he said, “Khun Kinn has decided that you need supervision. Someone who will keep a close eye on you.”
Pete waited for the words to register. When they did, Vegas looked up at him very slowly. “Who?”
Pete couldn’t quite help himself. He let a smile slip. “Guess.”
“Who, Pete?” Vegas leaned forward. Pete could see the way Vegas’ chest muscles spasmed at the movement. It must have brought him intense pain, but Vegas clearly didn’t care about that. “Say it!”
Pete leaned backwards, taking a good look around. “I hope you’ve got a free room, but if you don’t that’s fine too.” He looked the devil right in the eye and grinned. “I’ll just sleep in your bed.”
Vegas moved quicker than Pete had expected. He surged forward, grabbing onto Pete and then they were both falling off the lounger, the soft grass softening their landing.
Pete laughed as Vegas straddled him, fixating Pete’s arms above his head. It was such a familiar position.
“You’re coming here?” Breathless, Vegas sounded breathless like the first time they had reunited.
“I’m staying here,” Pete corrected. “As per Khun Kinn’s order, the duration of your punishment is indefinite. Therefore, I have to stay by your side forever.”
Vegas didn’t waste any more time on words. He kissed him and then kept kissing him until they were both breathless and Pete was giggling.
Vegas’ eyes were shining with emotion as he sought out Pete’s gaze. “You’re never allowed to leave. If you truly want to come here, you can never leave again. I won’t be able to let you go. Not again.”
“I’m here to stay.” Pete slung his arms around Vegas’ neck, joyously, selfishly taking everything he wanted. He had suffered for this. He had killed and bled for this. He wouldn’t ever let go.
“I’m here to make you pay, Khun Vegas,” he whispered into Vegas’ ear. “Every future day of yours is mine.”
“I’ll make you happy.” Vegas pressed their foreheads together. “I promise I’ll make you happy every day.”
Pete grinned and then tilted his chin up in need of another kiss. Vegas didn’t have to be asked twice.
He kissed Pete until their lips were numb and then moved on to his neck, sucking bruises into his skin that would seriously hurt. Pete’s toes curled in excitement when he felt the first prickle of pain.
There were wires under his skin and they came alive when Vegas touched him. The devil, in his truest form, was in love with him.
It was a beautiful summer’s day when they came together.