Page 104 of Everything That Kills Me
“I don’t want to go, but I have to,” Jack whispered, running his hands down Zeph’s body and curling them under the crease under his arse.
Jack pressed hot kisses to Zeph’s neck and ear, and Zeph liquified under his touch. Jack rolled him face down and lay on top of him, his cock nestled between Zeph’s buttocks.
A moment later, Jack’s lube-covered fingers were pushing and pressing at the tight ring of muscles at the entrance to his body, one finger slipping inside. Zeph groaned and arched towards him. He forgot he was pissed off. Forgot why he shouldn’t be pissed off. Forgot everything but this. Jack was stroking that place inside him that made Zeph want to count stars forever.
“This…okay?” Jack panted, pulling his fingers free and replacing them with the head of his cock, rocking against him.
“Always!”
As Jack pushed into his body, Zeph’s hand slid to his own cock, squeezing it as Jack eased further and further inside him. Pushing and squeezing at the same time. Jack’s moans and gasps fed Zeph’s until they were filling the room with sounds of their pleasure. Rhythm was there, then lost. Jack had his arm beneath Zeph jerking him up into his thrust and it was all Zeph could do to keep his hand around his cock. They came together as closely as they’d ever done and Jack collapsed on top of him,seeking out his mouth, kissing him so hard Zeph thought his lips would be bruised. He hoped they were.
Don’t let this be the last time.
Come back to me.
Jack was gone when Zeph woke.
Not just from the bed.
Zeph felt his absence from the house as a dull ache in his chest. He didn’t bother to check if the car was still there. He knew it wouldn’t be. He’d hoped for a kiss goodbye. He’d asked Jack to wake him and he hadn’t. There wasn’t even a note. He showered, then dressed. The sun was shining but it was a grey day. Zeph had the feeling all days would feel grey from now on.
But Jack had said he’d return. Zeph would cling to that.
When Zeph pulled open the wardrobe door, he stumbled back and fell onto the bed.AllJack’s clothes gone? Nothing left? He’d even taken his fucking tuxedo? Zeph tried to talk himself into believing Jack would need it for something, but… He was angry then. Why couldn’t he have at least said goodbye?Fucking arsehole!
He was shocked by his anger and by how lost he felt without him. Zeph was used to being on his own. He’d convinced himself that was how he liked things, and made himself okay with it, but now he’d been shown a different way of living, he felt adrift. He was angry about that too.
Jack hadn’t said not to call him, so Zeph did. No ringtone, then a voice saidCall not connected.So he wasn’t going to be able to call him anymore, which pissed him off all over again.
He went into the study but found no clues about what Jack was doing. No pieces of paper in the waste bin, no indents on the writing pad that Zeph could have rubbed with the side of a pencil. Though as he looked round, he did wonder… Zeph wentoutside and looked through the window, then at the exterior wall. Was there something off about the dimensions? He walked around the house. After he’d gone back inside and looked again, he knew he was right. There was a space unaccounted for between the study and the garage.
A hidden room? A small one but… Maybe it was where the owners of the house stored their personal possessions. It kept Zeph occupied for a while trying to figure out a way in. He tugged at the shelves, moved books, looked for something that didn’t seem right, then almost by accident kicked at something on the bottom shelf that moved.
A moment later, Zeph had slid aside a whole section of shelving to reveal a door. He didn’t want to believe there’d be any risk in opening it or feeling inside for a light switch just to look, but…there was a keycode entry pad. Zeph sighed and put the shelving back in place.
It was private, the owner’s closet, and though he was curious, there was no way he’d be able to work out the code. There’d be ten thousand combinations just for four digits. But how had Jack known about it? Maybe he’d not been in there, he’d gone for walk outside which had been Zeph’s first thought.
All he could do was wait and hope that Jack came back.
So that’s what he did.
Twenty-Five
Jack knew he ought to have woken Zeph before he left, but what could he have said that would have made the situation any better? He intended to return, but that might not be possible for any number of reasons. Leaving before Zeph woke had avoided Jack having to promise something he wasn’t sure he could deliver. Even so, he didn’t like the way he’d behaved.
From this point, Jack could afford no distractions. He had to compartmentalise to keep himself and Zeph safe. He’d done what Thomas had told him to do, selected an identity from the safe room, packed a few other items from in there, and destroyed the SIM card from his phone so Zeph couldn’t call him, and Zeph couldn’t be traced.
The target was a Saudi businessman—if human trafficking counted as a business. Saad Al-Shuaibi. Forty-two years old. Married with three children, but with a taste for young blond guys in his bed when out of the country. Jack was his type. Jack had a room booked at one of the better hotels in Cannes, but before he checked in, he had something to collect in Marseilles. It was going to be a long drive, but he had plenty to think about.
Al-Shuaibi was due to arrive in Cannes tomorrow by private jet. He’d chartered a superyacht for the week. The Agiolis. Over a hundred metres long with a swimming pool, gym and media room. Al-Shuaibi’s personal floating hotel. Jack had no idea whether he’d even go to sea or not. He had details of the company it had been rented from and knew where the yacht was berthed. It came with a crew but Al-Shuaibi would undoubtedly have his own men on board. Jack had studied photos of the Agiolis and memorised the layout, including the rooms with balconies, which gave access to the water and escape.
The Saudi’s favourite casino was the Royale, again well researched, though details were harder to find. It was wherehe’d bump into Jack—or rather Sebastian Green, the son of an English tech giant. Sebastian was a disappointment to his wealthy father, his mother was dead, no siblings. He had a large trust fund, a gambling habit—but one he was skilled in—and he was currently studying history at Cambridge University. About to go into his final year.
That made him think of Zeph. He hadn’t mentioned his exam results. Had he even checked? There was no way he wouldn’t have passed. Jack clenched his teeth in annoyance. Think only about the job.
Thomas had taught him to vary his methods to avoid being traced and identified. When Jack was a young boy, Thomas had shown him a funny Christmas film with robbers who styled themselves as the Wet Bandits. They left the taps running in the places they robbed. Thomas had explained why it was a bad idea and Jack had got it. Though varying your methods when you were going to kill someone had limitations.
He’d been trained to handle explosives but blowing things up risked innocent people getting caught in the blast. Jack had cut it fine on a couple of occasions. Using a knife was quieter than a gun but messier and riskier. Miss the place where you intended to stab your adversary and it gave them the chance to fight back. Jack’s preferred method was shooting, preferably from a distance, but close up if necessary.
