Page 23 of The Primary Pest
As he dried himself off, his eyes seemed haunted. Dmytro would have liked to know what put that unhappy look there, but decided it was probably better he didn’t.
CHAPTER NINE
Ajax
Ajax Freedom.I am the Bringer of Death.
You are a man,aren’t you?
Just like that, Ajax fell in love with another man he couldn’t have. It didn’t take much, of course. He was twenty-two. He fell in and out of love like a Skee-Ball, bouncing, rolling, falling into first one guy and then another. But when Dmytro said, “You must learn to defend the things that matter.” Ajax fell into the fifty-pointer, right to the bottom, at least for the moment, at least until the next hot guy made him feel good, or cherished, or even a little bit competent, probably. At least until Dmytro barked at him or ordered him around—or left, because he obviously would, once the job was over.
The moment was golden. Dmytro, a god come to earth just for him.
Nobody treated Ajax like a man. Nobody. And considering he’d already graduated from college, become a social mediasensation, and been part of a wildly successful podcast, you’d think someone would give him some credit.
He held a degree in mathematics from a good college. Could have easily gone to grad school. Instead, he’d turned an unconventional sense of humor and a basic loathing of the world at large into a fucking industry.
Chilled to the bone from their walk back to the room, he went into their bathroom to rinse the chlorine off his skin and shampoo his hair. Now he stared at his face on the Ajax Freedom T-shirt he wore in the mirror—which seemed just a little too meta—and willed himself to chill the fuck out.
There was no point in hiding his attraction, but there was probably no point in having it either. The entire world now knew Ajax was gay, but Dmytro didn’t seem to be, what with the wife and the daughters and all, and also,duh, Ajax was only a job to these guys.
He walked back into the room in time to see the tiniest sliver of Dmytro’s inked back before the T-shirt he was putting on fell like a curtain to cover it. Plaid sleep pants made him look like a dad. Just not Ajax’s dad. Not. At. All.
“Why are you staring at me like that?” Dmytro narrowed his eyes.
“No reason.” Ajax flushed. “When can we go for target practice?”
“I’ll run the idea past Zhenya and Bartosz, and we’ll find out if there’s a range around here in the morning. If we think it’s safe enough, then we’ll consider it.”
“Do I get to use your gun or Bartosz’s?”
“We’ll see, I said.” Dmytro plugged his laptop into its charger before placing his watch on the nightstand between the beds.
By which he meant the really scary ones.
Iphicles had removed his electronics, cloned them, and kept any interaction private to keep Ajax from worrying. They’dstarted monitoring his home security feed when his admirer sent pictures from inside his house.
Ajax did worry. This threat was different. Ajax made a game out of identifying anonymous commenters, but this guy was in a class by himself. If he couldn’t find this person—if even Iphicles couldn’t—there was cause for alarm.
The email harassment kept coming. Its personal nature scared him. There was a different mind at work there—the threats were more visceral, more powerful, as if their sender had his hand inside him already and was tightening his grip around Ajax’s lungs. There was a sick but clever mind behind the attacks.
“Did I get any love letters today?” he asked.
“Some.” Dmytro didn’t meet his gaze. He rose to turn on the light between them before turning out all the rest. “Peter sent a list of names for you to look at.”
He handed over a slip of paper. Ajax skimmed it. There were five names on it. A Xander, a Josh, two Jasons, and a Rafe.
“What are these?”
“Do you recognize any of those names?”
“Maybe. They could be online acquaintances or guys I hooked up with, although it’s kind of sketchy because I normally don’t remember last names. I met a guy named Rafe at a party last year.” The man was memorable, if only because Ajax had blocked him from a hookup app. “He was an arrogant ass.”
“Yeah? More specific impressions?”
“He had this weird way of staring. And he licked the condensation from his glass like a lizard. My money’s on him if we’re dealing with a guy who wanted to get with me but couldn’t get past first base. But cripes. Joshuas, Jasons, and even Xanders are everywhere. I’ve met a few of each at parties or clubs through the years, and I’m sure I pissed one or two off. There’s this one Jason guy who seemed… jealous. He was rudeand egotistical.” He’d blocked him too. “He has reminded me more than once I don’t deserve the success I have.”
“Great.” Dmytro sighed. “Could any of them have a special reason to harm you?”
