Page 49 of The Chameleon

Giving Ares one of the angriest glares he had ever seen, Abel blurted, “Because you fucking control my life!”

Stunned, Ares stared at his brother, mouth hanging open.

“You give me a weekly allowance, you monitor my activities, you send me to that goddamn rehab facility when you get tired of my antics. You fucking own me! With you dead, I can control my own life!”

Staring up at his little brother, his heart broke. He had taken care of Abel since he was sixteen, and his father was killed. He had sat by Abel’s side when the little bugger was sick, taught the little asshole how to drive, even took the fucking prick to his first strip club. And what thanks did he get? An attempt on his life.

Yes, he might have controlled Abel’s life, but it was only out of love. He knew that his brother had a drug problem and did his best to keep his brother from spiraling by limiting the amount of money he gave him each week to spend. When his brother went off the rails, Ares would throw him into a clinic to get clean and hoped that he would see reason and try and get his addiction under control. But Ares loved his brother. His brother was his weakness, his Achilles’ heel. He hated to see those sad eyes staring up at him. He had been through so much growing up. They both had. All Ares ever wanted to do was take away all that pain and shelter his brother from the horrors of the world around him.

For that, Ares has failed his brother.

“Please… Ares,” his brother sobbed, staring at him with those big brown eyes of his.

What was he supposed to do? He didn’t have the heart to murder his own brother, but he also couldn’t have him running around free and making it look like Ares had gone soft. Fear was power, and Ares couldn’t lose that.

Then, a thought occurred to Ares.

He pulled out his cell phone and called a doctor friend, one who owed him a favor… and happened to be the head doctor at a psychiatric facility in Belarus.

Ares gave his brother an evil grin.

There were other ways to make a man disappear and keep him quiet… forever.

15

MATTEO

Staring up at the ceiling, Matteo wondered how he could be so stupid. Of all the idiotic things he had done in his life, last night topped them all.

Following their little “after dinner ball drainage exercise,” they downed a bottle of whiskey, then thought it was a good idea to play “Who can make the other person come the fastest?”

Ares won, of course.

Matteo was pretty sure that the man was not only thegod of warbut also thegod of sex and orgasms.

Between that wicked tongue of his and that gloriously shaped cock, Matteo wondered how he was ever supposed to enjoy sex again with any other man. Talk about being ruined.

Somewhere between three and four a.m., they both passed out in Matteo’s bed, which was where he was now lying, trying not to check out the hairy man-ass currently on full display lying next to him.

He stared at the strips of sunlight that snuck in through the partially open blinds and took refuge on Ares’s massiveculo. If Matteo were the sunlight, he would have found a much nicerplace to rest than on top of the furry slopes of Ares’s man-cheeks.

The evilness inside Matteo wanted to lean over and give the man the biggest earth-shattering, tsunami-causing slap on the ass Ares had ever received.

Seeing Ares jerk awake, then cry out in pain… was just… so… satisfying.

You’re evil.

Shut your face and go back to wherever it is that good little angel voices go when not trying to turn people away from fun and evil deeds.

Clearly, if you had let me in last night, you wouldn’t be laying here with cum drying to your leg, replaying all of the filthy bad choices you and your little buddy made last night.

He’s definitely not little,the evil voice reminded.

Argh. There’s no hope for you.

Fuck. My. Life.

A groan emerged from the slumbering mound snoozing next to him.

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