Page 3 of Devil's Deal

A quick search of the downstairs yielded nothing useful or interesting. Even his office was for show. A huge cherry wood desk. A diploma on the wall. Pictures of him at a golf competition. Him at some kind of gala. Nothing personal, though. No pictures of parents or siblings or nieces and nephews. All of which he had across the state. Just him posing.

Upstairs, I found the room. The one my friend Omar had told me about. I didn’t have many friends; it didn’t do in my line of work. I had Tracker, my cyber-hero, but that was a mutually beneficial relationship built on trust and money. We didn’t meet up, we didn’t hang out, we didn’t do niceties. But, Omar, he was my friend.

Or rather, he was Bosley the businessman’s friend. The only indulgences I had were attending Daddy-boy weekends that were hosted in various locations around the world. They were perfect for a guy like me. I slipped into my businessman persona and let myself pamper some sweet boy for a weekend. Let myself be something other than a monster. And then it was over. They didn’t have expectations, and I never made promises. These boys knew it was for one weekend only. I didn’t leave with numbers, and I forgot their names as I exited the hotel.

But several years ago, in New York, there’d been one who stood out. One shy, quirky boy who’d pinged every protective instinct I’d ever had. Instincts I hadn’t even known I possessed before him. Because of that, I’d kept in contact with one man, a Daddy, I’d gotten friendly with over the course of the weekend. He’d hooked up with one of Chip’s friends, and since they’d end up staying together, they kept me up-to-date with Chip and his life.

Little good that did me. And it had done absolutely nothing for Chip. Based on the story Omar had told me, he’d had to rescue sweet Chip from this house. Harry had pretended to be a Daddy, pretended that he cared about Chip and moved him into this house. Then he’d manipulated, isolated, and abused him. I didn’t like shitty people. I despised abusive men. But throw in a helping of pretending to be someone that should’ve been nurturing, lying about being a Daddy, and Harry had sealed his fate.

In the small room, I saw that Harry’s manipulations of Jamie were only half complete. There were still some furnishings, unlike the barren room they’d found when they’d rescued Chip. I wondered how Dr. Harry’s patients would feel knowing that they let the hands of an abuser touch them. Most of them probably went monthly or even weekly, letting that piece of shit manipulate their spines the same way he manipulated these young men who he promised to love and cherish.

Inspecting the room, I found a small surveillance camera in the vent.Bingo.I’d known I needed to come and take care of this myself. Omar and his friends wouldn’t have looked, wouldn’t have thought about it. They were good men, stable, upstanding. They’d come to rescue a shy, sweet boy without questioning anything further. But I knew better. I knew the darkness that lived inside men like Harry.

Yanking off the vent cover, I grabbed the small camera and crushed it in my hand, then dropped it on the ground and crushed it under my foot. That took care of problem number one. I’d have to thoroughly check the other vents in the house more carefully before I left.

Leaving the depressing room behind, I opened every door until I found Harry’s bedroom. Where would this guy keep something he shouldn’t have? My eyes traveled the room. Most people hid things in their closets, under the bathroom sink maybe, or if they were really smart, in a safe. But that wasn’t doctor—what did Omar call him, douche canoe’s—style. He thought he was more. He thought he was special. He lorded over these young men like a God. I smirked. He’d want his treasures close. Under the bed.

One nightstand had an alarm clock, and the drawer was only half-closed, caught on a bottle of lube, so I headed there and dropped to my knees. Sure enough, there was a black plastic bin with a lid. I pulled it out and set it on the bed. Opening it, my blood went cold. What an absolute piece of shit. The top picture was the sweet young man I’d just sent to the airport. I hadn’t even known he existed that first week I trailed Harry, and this was why. It was time-stamped six weeks ago. He cowered on his bed, tucked into the corner, resting his chin on his knees. There were tear tracks down his cheeks and one eye was swollen shut.

“Oh, what a big man you are, Dr. Harry,” I muttered.

Underneath that, I found a picture of the sweet boy who I hadn’t seen in over four years. Chip. There were several pictures of him, all in various stages of abuse. There were more. More boys. Photos that went back years based on the time-stamp on the pictures. This piece of crap had pulled still shots from the video and printed them up, sliding them in the box under his bed where he could admire his handiwork. Thank God I had gloves on. Who the fuck knew how many bodily fluids he’d left on them jerking off?

Disgusted, I grabbed the whole box and strode down to the living room. Good thing he had a fireplace. It was a truly nice day for a fire.

By the time night fell, I’d methodically gone through every piece of Harry’s house, wanting to make sure I found every picture and scrap of anyone’s existence who he’d taken advantage of and burned it. They didn’t need this connection to him. They never needed to be seen the way he’d displayed them again. Not by Harry. Not by strangers.

I waited silently in the dark for him to arrive home. It would be any moment. When the garage door rumbled open, I slipped back into the dining room, into the shadows. He made noise coming in, then he called, “Jamie? Where are you? Why does it smell like smoke in here? Why isn’t dinner ready?”

He stomped into his living room, and I slipped up behind him, wrapping one arm around his waist, as I pressed my thumb and index finger up into his neck, holding him steady. “Jamie’s not here,” I whispered. Letting my breath ghost over his ear.

“Who the fuck are you? Let me go!” He bucked, thrashing. He was a fit man, trim from his running and light workouts at the gym. All he wanted was to look good, be esteemed. I worked out hard in the gym for this. For my life’s work. I liked to be up close and personal. To smell their fear, their terror. To feel how much fight they actually had inside.

As I suspected, as he struggled, kicking out behind him, trying to get me off him, he didn’t have shit inside of him. He wasn’t competition. He wasn’t a fighter. Bullies rarely were. Those who picked on the innocent and vulnerable didn’t have the ability to handle someone like me. This man was weak.

“Oh, Harry, Harry, Harry. You’ve been a very bad boy. Or should I say, a bad Daddy. Did you pretend to be Jamie’s Daddy, too? Or did you reserve that for Chip?” I sneered into his ear.

His whole body tensed. “Oh yeah, I know all about what you did to sweet Chip. I also know you went to Takoda trying to hunt him down, drag him back, like he was a possession. Nothing more than a piece of furniture. I saw the pictures, too. Of the others. You’re a sick man, Harry.”

He tried to speak, and I pushed my fingers harder into his throat. I didn’t need his words, his begging, or his tears. There was no coming back from this. His life had been forfeited the minute he set his sights on Chip.

“This isn’t the Harry show. I’m talking. I bet you thought that punch to the face Omar gave you when you tried grabbing Chip was it. You thought all you lost was your prize. Did that bruise your ego? Did it hurt? Did you have to lick your wounds when you came home? I’d have gotten here sooner, but I had a job to complete. I hate that it gave you time to entrap Jamie, but hopefully, he’ll be more cautious in the future. I’m sure his sister will watch out for him.”

“What the hell, man? Get out of my house. I’m calling the police,” he said, wheezing.

I chuckled darkly. “Oh, Harry. You won’t be doing any of those things ever again.” Stumbling him forward to the table, I let him see my sweet baby. My beautiful karambit. My knife was so good to me. “I hope you enjoyed the misery you inflicted, Harry. I hope it was enough. That it was worth your life. Because that’s all you’ll ever have.”

I didn’t give him enough time to scream. Hell, he didn’t have enough time to blink before my sweet girl was in my hand and sliced up under his chin, severing his carotid artery and jugular vein. That was it.Dead. Done with him, I dropped his lifeless body where I stood.

He ceased to exist to me as I went to the kitchen and cleaned my girl. Such a beautiful instrument of death had to be treated with the utmost respect. Tossing the towel I used into a garbage bag, I picked it up and walked out into the garage where I’d already loaded Jamie’s stuff into Harry’s extra vehicle. I’d gotten lucky he’d taken his sports car today and left his SUV. I’d mail Jamie his things and leave Harry’s car in the long-term parking at the airport like I’d told Jamie to do with theNissan.

With a sigh of satisfaction, I backed out of the driveway. This job was done. Not a bad day’s work, if I did say so myself.

Chapter

One

CORY

---