Page 66 of Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang Us, Daddy

“Yeah, but it’s just . . . he’s never let anyone call him that before. Not around me, at least. You must be really special to him, if that’s the case.”

I lock eyes with Abi and give him my warmest smile. “As I said, Abi is my son. I can’t exactly go around calling him Kincaid. It’s terribly formal.”

“Whatever, man. Either way, I think it’s adorable. Good for you, and good for Kincaid. So, if this isn’t about a job, what can I do for you, Nate?”

“We need your help with something. Do you remember Benito?”

“Benito,” he muses softly. “He’s the twink your son shot, right?”

“The one and only—and thank heavens for that. Tatum brought him down from Washington. He wants to get rid of him, but we’re not really sure how to handle it. We thought you might know the best course of action.”

“My area of expertise,” he agrees with a chuckle. “All right, I’m in. What do you want me to do with him? If you want me to kill him and get rid of the body, I’ve got you, but I’m not big on extended periods of torture. I can probably drag it out a few days, but I’m not really in the mood for a months-long session of predator and prey. It takes a lot out of you, emotionally.”

“No, son. We don’t actually want to kill him.” I look up at my Bens, both staring at me with worried expressions. “Do we want Agent Meadows to torture him for a few days?”

Bennet’s contemplating the question, but Benji’s shaking his head emphatically. “No. No more hurt, Dad. I want this over. I want him gone, but I want him to be safe.”

“Well,” Meadows interrupts. “I can always smuggle him into a country that beheads gay people and see how he fairs.”

I cover the receiver with my palm. “Do we want him to smuggle Benito into Saudi Arabia?”

“Why would we do that?” Bennet asks, his brows furrowed.

“They execute homosexuals,” I answer, and to my horror, both of them stare at me like I’ve just threatened to gay bash Benito myself. “I can ask if Meadows can get him into Russia. I don’t think they execute gays there, but from what I hear, it’s an all-around awful experience.”

“Absolutely not!” they say in unison, along with Abi, who’s staring at me like I’ve just threatened to send him back as well.

“No, Dad,” Abi says, shaking his head. “Daddy Putin may have an ass that should be ejaculated onto multiple times daily, but he is a cutthroat killer. I would not send my worst enemy to his barren hellscape.”

“Well, if they don’t like any of those ideas, we could handle it in-house,” Meadows offers.

“What do you mean, in-house?” I ask. Abi’s eyes widen, but I don’t have the chance to ask what the expression is about.

“Ms. Broussard. She handles our more high-tech projects. She does a lot of work with automatons, so she might be able to put his brain in one of her robot husks.”

“Do we want them to remove his brain and place it in a robot?” I ask, but it just earns me a scowl. “That’s a no-go, apparently. What else do you have?”

“She’s working on a serum that can temporarily turn a gay man straight.”

My eyes bulge. “Excuse me?”

“Don’t worry; it isn’t permanent. It only lasts a few days. Well, I suppose if you continuously drugged someone, it could be permanent, but I don’t think she has any plans of making any more of the serum, so they’d end up back over the rainbow at some point, regardless. Honestly, I’m not a fan of it, either. It was a controversial decision to use it to begin with.”

“How is that even—” I shake my head, trying to make sense of what he’s saying. He’s found a cure for homosexuality, but it’s not a disease. It doesn’t need to be eliminated. You can’t just snuff out someone’s sparkle. “Why in the world does a hitman agency need any of this? None of this makes sense, son.”

“We are not simply a hitman agency,” he snaps, sounding offended. “We’re an underground powerhouse. Our fingers are in every pot you can think of.”

Maybe their fingers need to be cut off at the root to stop this madness from spreading. How many other abominations do they produce? How many lives will they ruin along the way?

“That’s disgusting,” I hiss at him. “Who are you to change someone’s sexuality? Who made you God?”

“Emily Broussard. This is her company.”

“Yes, well, I don’t particularly give a damn what this Emily character has to say on the matter, you keep that filthy conversion potion away from my boys. It’s disgraceful.”

Meadows sighs. “Dude, I just work here. I’m literally just laying out your options, I’m not looking to get into a debate about moral authority. Do you want my help or not?”

I sigh, because aside from keeping Benito chained to Tatum’s bed for the rest of his life, we don’t really have another option. “What else do you have?”

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