Javier took Bowie’s face in his hands. “Bowie Baker.”
“Yeah?”
“I love you, too.”
Bowie bit his lower lip until he couldn’t stop his mouth from curling into a smile. “Really?”
“Really really,” Javier confirmed.
Bowie sort of melted into his embrace, all the tension and angst dissolving with Javier’s confession. “Do you think this will ever be over?”
“Our relationship? I hope not,” Javier teased.
“You know what I mean. This shit with Giordano. Is it ever going to end?”
“Oh, it's gonna end, angel. One way or another. Whether he goes peacefully or violently…that’s up to him.”
Was it wrong that Bowie found the menace in Javier’s voice reassuring?
Javier stayed up long past Bowie, head propped on his hand, just watching Bowie sleep. It was the only time the tension in his face was truly gone. No matter how relaxed he seemed or how much more he felt like himself, the temporary relief Javier had seen in those daily calls when they’d been apart was long gone, replaced once more by a hunted look in his eye, like he was always looking over his shoulder.
But in sleep, his face was slack, lips parted, hair askew… He looked peaceful. Javier just wanted to give him that sense of peace back. He couldn’t forget that anguish he’d seen in Bowie’s eyes that day in the police station. It was the first time he realized Bowie was an expert at smiling on the outside while dying inside, even if he didn’t know it. Javier just wanted him to be happy. By any means necessary.
He had done this to Bowie. In a way, it almost seemed more cruel to have given him a brief respite only to then thrust him even further into danger. Javier would dispatch this threat as quickly as the last, with the same little regard for the life he took. Hell, he’d lay waste to whole cities for Bowie. That was just how it was, for better or for worse. But Javier couldn’t eliminate a problem if he couldn’t find it.
The odds favored Giordano Senior as Bowie’s tormentor, but there was just no way of knowing for sure. Not until Nicky processed the evidence. Javier couldn’t afford to eliminate another high level target without confirmation, and he could really only do it there, in Mexico, on his terms, where he controlled the chessboard.
Javier sat up, throwing his legs over the side of the bed as he grabbed his phone and pulled up Nicky’s number, hitting send before he could second-guess himself. It was only midnight there.
Nicky answered on the second ring. “What’s wrong?” His voice was full of sleep and worry.
Javier was an asshole. He scrubbed a hand over his face before saying, “Nothing. I’m just calling for an update,” he said, pacing the room, throwing glances at Bowie, who was still sleeping soundly in his bed.
There was a heavy sigh and then a commotion. “You need to learn to tell time. Getting dressed in the dark is a pain in the ass.”
“Why do you have to get dressed in your own house?”
Javier was forced to listen to the sounds of rustling fabric and static before Nicky said, “‘Cause we’re watching Knox for Memphis and Preacher, and I’m pretty sure walking naked in front of a thirteen year old is a felony, and if it isn’t, it should be. Also, Preacher would slaughter me.”
Javier wouldn’t want to go up against Preacher. There was nothing scarier than a man who never felt the need to speak unless spoken to. Anybody that comfortable with their own demons was nobody to be trifled with. “Yeah, fair.”
A chair squeaked, and then Nicky said, “Alright. I’m in my office now. What’s up?”
“Any word on who sent the package to Bowie?”
“Man, it’s been, like, three days. Even rush jobs take longer than that. My money is still on his pops. He’s got the balls to shoot up a dance studio. He has motive. Money. A team. We just don’t have any proof.”
“Are we at least keeping tabs on him?” Javier asked.
“What do you think?” Nicky shot back, sounding offended. “I’ve flagged his credit cards, passport, bank statements. So far, all charges are still coming from Nevada. But that doesn’t mean he didn’t dispatch people to do his dirty work for him. It’s practically guaranteed. This is the kind of guy who doesn’t like to get his hands dirty unless he absolutely has to.”
Javier made a noise of frustration. “I need him to get his hands dirty. I need him in Mexico.”
Nicky sighed. “Listen, I get it. I can push his buttons. Put your name on his lips instead of Bowie’s. But if I do this, put it out over the wire, chances are he’s going to come straight for you.”
Good.“Let him come after me. Ineedhim to come after me. But what if it’s not him?”
Nicky sighed. “It’s gotta be. Who else would care this much about a scumbag rapist? I did some digging, man. Bowie wasn’t the first kid he did this to. There were a few large payouts in the States, probably to keep the press off their backs. But in Spain, he’s suspected in the disappearance of two separate boys, and one of them wasn’t even legal age. Another he put in the hospital for a month. Who the hell knows what he did in his own country before Daddy shipped him off? The elder Giordano knows that his son was a monster he created, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t avenge his death. Narcissists always think they’re the smartest guys in the room.”
