City Knight 04 - Knights Out (CMS) (MM) (2 page)

“That’s right. Something’s wrong here, Marcus.” Jeremiah spoke more forcefully than he’d ever done before. Ben sat up and listened closely. Something was bothering his friend and he wanted to know what it was. “I talked with Gabe before he left the bar after his shift right after Ben and I helped catch that asshole priest, and he was excited to be starting here, moving in. He left and was going to move his things in upstairs and it’s like he fell off the face of the earth.”

Zack reached across the table and took one of Jer’s hands, rubbing it between his own. That touch seemed to calm Jer, and he took a deep breath and continued. “I went and checked his apartment, and everything is there. His clothes, his laptop, everything. The only thing missing is his phone. And there’s more.” He glanced around the booth, making sure he had everyone’s attention. “I’ve been talking to some of the guys working the streets. There’s been three kids gone missing. There one day then poof.”

Both Marcus and Chance stiffened at that. “Are you sure?” Marcus continued scribbling notes, but Ben could see the concern, the attention and tension in his body. “I haven’t heard anything about missing kids. Have you, Chance?”

Shaking his head, Chance leaned back in his chair at the end of the booth. “No, not even a whisper of it in here. But”—he rolled his neck and took a deep breath—“you know how these cases are. Nobody takes a count of the kids on the streets, nobody really cares unless there’s an informant relationship, and then, Marcus, we both know how it goes. It’s only a matter of time before we expect those kids to move on, OD, disappear.”

“The thing that’s weird,” Jeremiah broke in, “is that there’s been a few John
Does showing up the past year or two. Nothing to tie together yet, although there have been a couple of similar MOs. One young man found burned to death in his vehicle. The usual overdoses. One stabbing. Metro area, but not the same county. No reason to assume the deaths are anything but coincidence at this point. And three unaccounted for.”

The table was quiet, and Gerry brought the group’s food. Ben reached over and stole onion rings off Marcus’s plate, and got a growled
mine
in return. After a few minutes, when the feeding frenzy was done and everyone was thoughtful, Marcus again took control. “So here’s what I think. There’s two issues here. We know these boys—men,” he corrected at Ben’s glare, “don’t normally make this lifestyle a long term career choice. It’s dangerous and most guys burn out really quickly. So we need to try to track down the ones that are missing. But our top priority is Nick.” He looked around the table and Ben was relieved at all the nods of agreement.

Ben spoke up. “I’ll hit the streets tonight and ask the guys I know.” He kept his voice very neutral, and
the battle he and Marcus fought eye to eye was intense, but quick. “And Jeremiah, if you can help, we can rule out a lot of our mutual friends. The ones who won’t answer questions from big former cops,” he kept speaking over Marcus’s objections. Jeremiah nodded, and Ben saw the same stubborn look on Zack’s face that was on Marcus’s.

Don’t fight me on this.
Ben held his spine stiff and waited for Marcus to yield. When he did, Ben almost let out a sigh of relief, but strangely, what he noticed was his hard cock. And from the look on Marcus’s face, he knew his ass was going to be very sore that night.

Benjamin was out on the street again. It was all that Marcus could do to stay in the townhouse and work, when what he really wanted to do was follow him and make sure nobody laid a hand on him. But that was the surest way to piss Benjamin off. One of the reasons Benjamin had agreed to work with him was that Marcus trusted him as an equal, and he damn sure wouldn’t break that trust.

Besides, there was other work to do. Marcus had put it off long enough, and he was a little upset with himself that he’d been such a wimp about doing it. He’d sat there in front of his laptop almost every day for weeks, meaning to start the search, but just couldn’t bring himself to type in the name. He had love in his life again, his health was better than ever, in no small part due to Benjamin’s healthy food choices, and he was…happy.

It’s amazing, what a man will do to be able to say that. And to keep it true.

But it was time to show he had a few hairs left on his balls, so he pulled up his search engine and typed in the name.
F-r-a-n-c-i-s P-r-a-t-e-r. Then waited.

His phone buzzed, and he glanced down.

Surprised u hvnt been out to tail me. Don’t <3 me anymore?

Grinning, his thumbs worked fast.
Oh, are u gone somewhere? Wondered why it was so quiet.

Fuck u old man. I’ll give u quiet.

Only when I gag u.

Promises, promises.
I owe u one. Tie U down big man.

Anytime.

Nothing yet. Found out one guy moved to FL. Confirmed. No one seen Gabe in weeks.

Stay safe.
Text me in an hour.

Go back to work old man.
Home soon. Expect u naked.

Already am.

Damn. Hands off until I get there.

Yes sir.

<3 U.

<3 U.

Marcus put his phone down, his heart calm. Now he was ready to read the results.

Opening the first entry, he was relieved to see that his brother was still living in the Metro Atlanta area, if his most recent driver’s license was correct. In fact, he was only a few miles away from where Marcus lived. He had to shut down his feelings about it and focus on the facts as he began to piece his brother’s life together.

No criminal convictions, no arrests, not even a traffic ticket. God, he didn’t remember Frankie being such a squeaky clean guy. If anything, Marcus was always cleaning up messes after his little brother. The six year age difference didn’t matter to either of them, ever. In fact, it seemed to spur Frankie on to try bigger and more dangerous things to fill his big brother’s shoes, or outshine him, or something. It was fine as long as it was about school and grades—if Marcus got an A, Frankie had to one up him and get an A+ from whatever teacher he figured they shared.

It was even cool when his little brother went after his records on the field at North Decatur High. Marcus led the football team to the state championship game, getting a school record with
forty touchdowns his senior season. Frankie’s junior season, he threw for forty-five TDs and won the state title, and even repeated it his senior year. And no one was happier than Marcus, who sat front row and cheered louder than anyone in the stadium.

Frankie was his best man at his wedding to Vanessa, and when Marcus went to the academy, his little brother surprised the whole family by enlisting as a marine after his graduation from high school. When Marcus refused his mother’s plea to talk him out of joining the service, the first cracks in the once-sound Prater family foundation were exposed. How funny, he thought, that his mom and dad threw it back in his face when he divorced Vanessa and came out as gay to them, thanking God that his brother wasn’t there to see his shame.
To be witness to his fall from grace. How they threatened to throw Frankie out of the family like they had Marcus if he didn’t let them tell his brother their version of the truth, and made him swear to never talk to his sibling again.

No amount of talking or begging would change their minds, and with Frankie stationed in the Middle East during Desert Storm, no way in hell was he going to cause any distraction that might
distract the only person on the planet he loved unconditionally from doing his job. If Frankie ever got wounded or, God forbid, died because he was worried about something his parents or Marcus got him involved in, something that could wait until Frankie was on home soil and safe, Marcus would have walked into traffic and ended it.

No, instead
, he let his parents send him a letter filled with hate and lies, and he ignored the frantic response back to him, begging for more information and for Marcus to deny everything he was told. Instead, he sent two sentences to his brother:
I’m not worth it, kid. Forget about me.

He never heard back from Frankie again.

Now, searching through data and facts, he wondered how he could have ever been so cruel, so heartless. Frankie deserved the truth, even then. The kid was smart, and while Jeremy, and now Benjamin, filled his heart and soul with so much love and care, there was an ache, a hole in his chest that no one could ever fill.

Wick, Chance,
Zack, and Archer. They were the brothers he chose, the men that made him proud to be part of a family again.

But the Frankie-sized part of his life would never be filled.

Marcus stared at the screen, not registering what was there for long moments. His phone dinged again, bringing his thoughts back to the present, and he was surprised to find almost-dry tears on his face.
Sentimental fool,
he chided himself. He checked his phone, and wasn’t surprised to see it was from Wick.

Going to the farm Sat to see
Hellboy. Want to come with?

He waited a long moment, tapping his fingers against his temple. He was never an accomplished horseman, but the one time he and Benjamin joined Wick and his Mini-me, it was well worth it to see how much Benjamin loved the stables and horses. Maybe it would be the perfect ending to the week they had going—Benjamin searching for Nick
, and Marcus tracking down Frankie, they would need to turn their brains off, he was sure.

Only if u 2 hold hands and sing
kumbaya.

Fuck u, asshole. Better
kumbaya than Endless Love. Which 1 of you grew the vagina?

Ned coming?

I hate u.

A long moment passed,
then Marcus’s phone buzzed again.
So u coming?

Yes.
Wont even mention how cute u 2 are together.

Who, me n
ned? Or Hellboy?

Yes.

Fuck. U. Be ready at 7. Wick out.

Chuckling, Marcus turned back to the screen.
And froze.

No.
Fucking. Way.

He clicked the link, and there it was. The legal wedding dissolution papers for Francis and Vanessa Prater.
His ex-wife Vanessa. And his brother.

Oh
, Frankie, what did you do?

*

Being away from the streets, just these few months, was…a revelation. Ben looked back on his life this year, before he met Marcus, and cringed at its paucity. He’d had school and turning tricks to make ends meet, and that was it. God, it was all black and white and gray. No color, no love, no Marcus. As he went down Ponce and North Avenues, talking to the guys who worked the corners and alleyways, he shuddered, then fought the urge to try to talk, persuade, beg these kids to find something else to do with their lives. To try to convince them that there was another way and yes, it got better.

How hollow it sounded to
his own ears.

Not everyone got a miracle in their lives.
A real life hero like Marcus.

So it was no surprise when his reappearance was met with indifference at first, then curiosity, then a cross between anger and fear and, in the boys’ eyes
, whether they knew it or not, hope. Most would talk with him, and he was able to rule out another disappearance, which left him with just one on Jeremiah’s list of missing guys. And then there was Nick.

Ben had to keep reminding himself it was Gabe. Nick was his
friend, Gabe was the street-wise rent boy that seemed to have helped every damn one of these boys out at one point or another. They might not trust him, but when he was asked if any of them had seen or heard from Gabe, to a one they showed concern and offered to ask their contacts for any news of the young man.

A new kid was working the alleyway Ben called home, so he took a chance and approached the boy. And boy this one was—couldn’t be a day over sixteen or seventeen. He had the lean, hungry look that would draw in all the predators, and Ben had no doubts some sleazy fucker would have him hooked on something and using him for something much worse than the streets. He closed his eyes
for a moment, sighed, then walked up to the boy.

“Hey
, man, what’s up tonight?”

The kid
eyed him suspiciously, taking in the jeans, the wifebeater, and made a quick decision—Ben could see it in his eyes. Ben moved to box the kid in the alleyway, knowing the back of the opening was closed off with no escape except up. And the fire escapes were rusty and untrustworthy. He hated to see the fear on the boy’s face, but he just had to teach him at least a small lesson. When he had him where he wanted him, just inside the alley, he eased his stance.

“Easy, buddy. I just want to talk to you for a minute. Okay?”

The kid tensed, his eyes darting from side to side. “What the hell do you want to talk about? Get the hell out of my way, man. I…I’ve got a gun and I’m not afraid to use it.” The boy stuck a hand in his skin tight jeans, his voice cracking.

Ben had to smile. There was no room for a roll of Lifesavers, much less a gun, in the kid’s pants. “Yeah, you got me
shakin’ in my boots here, kid. Now, let’s try this again. My name is Ben, and I worked this corner up until a couple of months ago. I’m looking for a friend of mine, name of Gabe. You know him? Or heard of him?”

“Dark hair?
Kind of skinny, but hot? Old, like you?”

Ben gaped. “Old? Fuck, kid, I’m
twenty-five, not fifty. But yeah, that’s him. You seen him?” Ben’s hopes flared, and he relaxed. Just in time to see the kid dart by him on the right and dance off into the street. Ben turned, but kept his distance. “Look, kid—what’s your name?”

Eyeing Ben warily, he kept his distance, but answered. “Travis.”

“Travis. Please, kid, have you seen Gabe? I’m worried about him…he’s a friend and he’s missing. Nobody’s seen him for weeks, and I just want to know he’s okay.”

Travis was thoughtful,
then appeared to make a decision. “Yeah, okay. I met him right after I got off at the Greyhound station. He fed me and warned me off a lot of things. Took me to one of the shelters. But you know how those are. The streets are safer.” Ben nodded, knowing that some of the predators targeted young kids at the shelters, knowing they didn’t have family or friends, or money. “But I haven’t seen him in about, maybe, two months. He was watching out for me a little. Kinda reminded me of my brother, before…”

Ben waited a moment. “Before you came out?”

“Yeah. Then they all stopped caring.” Travis held his spine straight as a rod, trying not to allow any of the pain rolling off him like waves to show. It was all Ben could do to grab the kid in a hug, but he knew that would send him off into the night and he’d never find him again. He had to play this just right.

“So, Gabe.
You haven’t seen him or heard from him since then.” When Travis nodded, Ben gave him a smile. “Good enough. Anything I can do for you? Gabe’s a friend, and if you are a pal of his, you’re one of mine too.”

Travis was shaking his head before the words were completely out of Ben’s mouth. “No, I’m good. I got a few bucks. The weather’s not bad, so I’m good to sleep in the park.”

Ben raised a hand, gave a quick wave and started walking back down Ponce. “You take care. If you need anything, ask around. I’m Ben. Word will get to me.” He glanced back once, seeing Travis still standing in the street.

When he reached the corner, he pulled out his phone and hit speed dial.
“Wick? Ben here.”

“Hey
, kid. Finally dumping the geezer and upgrading?”

Ben almost choked. “
You two are the same age, and Marcus would kick your ass if he heard you. Now, shut up, you hyper-hormoned horndog and listen. There’s a kid working the alleyway I used to on Ponce. Name’s Travis. He’s maybe eighteen. In two years. Do me a favor and use your magic woo-woo powers and make sure this kid is safe. I’d take it as a personal favor.”

There was a pause.
“Done. You owe me one.”

“Anything.
Just make sure Travis is okay.”

“Now
, Benjamin, Marcus would kill us both.”

“One of these days, Wick, I want to hear the story about how you two met. And what you did.”

“Babe, I value my balls too much to do that. Ask your man.”

“I will. And Wick?”