Page 74 of Justice For Me

Emilio poured another drink, tossed it back. “Too damned long,” he muttered. “I know I’m grasping at straws, hoping he’s still alive…mentally salvageable. I see it all over your face, Jasper. But you know what else? I see that you were there for nine months, treated worse than most slaves I’ve ever encountered, and I see you now…”

He shook his head, like he didn’t even believe himself anymore. “Three years. Three fucking years gone.”

Fuck! Justice was convinced he couldn’t survive a day in that world.. Three years? Part of him hoped the man wasn’t still alive, still being tortured and tormented for the enjoyment of others.

“That is a long time, Emilio,” Jasper said in a cautious tone. He didn’t want to destroy all hope, but he didn’t want to give false hope either. He honestly couldn’t imagine someone surviving the slave trade that long. He couldn’t imagine them wanting to. “Where was he taken from? Here? In the UK?” He knew Jameson Bentley was from California, but he didn’t feel the need to divulge anything about what he had dug up about the man’s past. If he wanted to stay hidden, he could stay hidden.

“We were vacationing in Aruba.” A soft smile touched Emilio’s face, making him even more handsome. “He’d just graduated from Yale, with honors, and we were celebrating our present and future. His family never accepted the fact that he was gay, I was all he had in the world.” He huffed out a deep breath. “A lot of fucking good that did him. I’m all he has to depend on and I haven’t been able to uncover the first crumb. He went up to the room early, wanted to shower and read a book. I followed up in what couldn’t have been more than thirty minutes and he was gone…vanished into thin air.” He turned to them, his eyes even more haunted. “He was twenty-three years old. Twenty-three, already the upper end of whattheylook for in a slave,” he whispered.

Neither of them knew what to say. Hell, what could they say? At twenty-six, the man would be worthless in the slave trade. Most didn’t last more than a couple of years before a master got to handy with torture and took things just a bit too far with their fun…leaving the slave dead and forgotten.

This man’s story, his pain, was just another reason Nicholas had to go away. If he was given time, he would gain power and strength. No one would be safe, especially Malachi.

“You thought the video would open doors for you? Get you into the right places, in front of the right people?”

“I had hoped.” He offered Jasper a sad smile. “You’re very popular in this world, Angel. They feed on your innocence. On top of that, you are associated with the downfall of Victor and Nicholas. Human trafficking is a cut throat business, smile to your face and slip a knife in your back. Nobody hated to see them fall from power. Knowing you were the cause of that fall? It made you even more appealing in their eyes.” He turned to Justice. “Malachi’s boy is just as beautiful but he’s all fire and heat. You are…different. You,” he nodded toward Justice, “are a hand full. Malachi will be busy trying to keep you in line. You burn hot, don’t you? A lot like my Bronx,” he ended with a sad smile.

“Are you going to give us the address?” Justice asked. Shit, he was supposed to keep his mouth shut. Yea, that wouldn’t ever happen. “Do you even know where Nicholas is?” He couldn’t do this anymore. This man was breaking his heart. The pain radiating from him sucked all the air from the room and the worst fucking part was there wasn’t a thing they could do about it…nothing they could do to help. Fuck. Three years and he still searched. This man had neverlet go.

In a fairy tale world, this shit wouldn’t happen to good people. This wasn’t a fucking fairy tale though.

“Yes, I know where to find the bastard. He’s hiding out less than a hundred miles South, busy gathering allies, I’m certain.” He opened his desk drawer and pulled out a gun and another metal box.

“Now, what weapons do you have? Nicholas doesn’t have a lot of manpower, money, or weaponry right now. It’s a perfect time to hit. Cut him off before he has a chance to rebuild.” He handed the gun to Justice and smiled. “If you belong to Malachi, you know how to use this.” To Jasper, he handed the metal box. “This is a drug that will incapacitate him for at least an hour. Knowing what I know about your planning abilities, I’m concerned about how prepared you are to actually face Nicholas. The man is evil incarnate. He is never weak, he just might not be as strong as usual right now. I want you to at least take these with you.”

Emilio looked troubled. “I want to send some of my men with you, to help, but I’m not sure…”

“You’ve done more than enough, Emilio,” Jasper cut in. “We understand why your men can’t get involved. Your heart isn’t ready to give up yet and you have to hold your cover. We understand and respect that decision.”

“Yes, I think you both would. I’ve seen what you both are willing to do to keep the ones you love safe.” He crossed the room and kissed Jasper on the cheek. “Be safe and Godspeed, Jasper. I’m thankful to see that Angel is gone and that Jasper was strong enough to survive.”

Next he moved to Justice and pulled him closer, kissing him firmly and sensuously on his mouth. When he was finished, he pulled back, smiling softly. “Jasper doesn’t like man kisses, but I don’t think you mind them, fireball. Don’t you dare go and get yourself killed tonight. I don’t want Malachi coming for me. I hear the man can be quite brutal when necessary.” He laughed softly and then added, “When I look at you, Justice, I see my Bronx. You and he…you’re all fire, burning hot and bright for the world. Don’t ever let anybody take that away from you. Burn for my Bronx, too.”He swiped at his eyes and then told them, “Go! Time is of essence. You cannot allow Nicholas to rebuild his empire.” He started walking them through the Tuscan style mansion, toward the door. Tears streamed down his face with every step. The man was letting go. Justice traced his wrist as they walked. If he didn’t die tonight, he was going to make his father move heaven and earth to find out what happened to Bronx. Emilio would have his closure. The boy was surely gone, but his faithful lover deserved to know what happened to him.

They reached the grand foyer and Emilio swiped at his eyes again. Justice hadn’t paid much attention to anything when they’d first walked through those doors, certain they were about to face death because by that point, he pretty much had determined Jasper didnothave a fucking plan, contrary to what Goldilocks had said. As they’d walked back toward the exit, his eyes had swept between the man breaking down in front of them and then to the cold décor of the empty house. Emilio lived here, but didn’t live here. There were no touches of warmth or love, just emptiness and sadness. It broke his heart to know they were leaving this man to his mansion-sized casket. If he held by his decision to give up, would he end it all? Kill himself? Blame himself for failing to bring Bronx back?

He didn’t want to look him in the eyes again, didn’t want to face the pain he knew he would see there. Being a coward…a fucking coward, is what drew his eyes away from Emilio and Jasper and toward the large canvas print hanging on the wall leading up the grand staircase. It was the only touch of warmth. Blazing colors…love…two men, completely naked and in a sensual embrace, kissing one another with love dancing in their eyes. He tilted his head and looked closer at the painting. Yes, it was Emilio, which meant the other man in the painting must be Bronx. Lost in his thoughts, he started toward the steps, eyes drawn like a flame to the lovers on the wall. He heard Jasper call his name, but the painting called louder.

Beautiful. Erotic. So…so familiar. His hand grasped the iron railing of the curved staircase tightly, so tightly his hands started to turn white. He frowned, tilted his head again…frowned some more.

“That’s Bronx and I,” Emilio said. His voice was laced with more emotion than a person should have to face in their lifetime.

Justice shook his head and it felt like time stood still. It couldn’t be…

It was.

“No. No, that’s you and witness number two in the O’Hara trial.”

Chapter 23

“What a fucking plan, Mr. Genius!” Justice kept repeating as they drove their rental down the country road that was taking them closer and closer to Nicholas. “Seriously? Explain to me,again, why your cock had to go in my mouth? I didn’t see any toys being rammed up your ass!”

Endless chatter, symptom number fourteen. Jasper wondered if it would be rude to point that out to Justice right now. Yea, Justice was on fire right now. After what had just happened at Emilio’s, Jasper couldn’t blame him. They were going to win, this was going to happen. Contrary to what the smartass thought, his plan had worked brilliantly…with some miracles to help it along the way.

“If you’re going to complain about having toys rammed up your ass and my cock rammed into your mouth for like three fucking seconds, I might add, you need to wipe that shit-eating grin off your face,fireball. It’s just not doing a lot to support your cause.”

Justice answered with an even bigger shit-eating grin. “Can you fucking believe that? Shit like that doesn’t happen, not in the real world. But it did, it fucking happened. Bronx is witness number two. I saw him on video. I may be a tad nuts,” he held up a finger to show about an inch and a half as he talked, “but I don’t forget a face. Bronxiswitness number two. I saw him lying on that bed, hands tied, bullet wound to his head. I remember thinking he didn’t look much older than me.”

“You’re one hundred percent positive, aren’t you, Justice?” Jasper asked. Again.

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