Authors: Carol Lynne
“Dammit!” Priest slammed his fist against the
dashboard. He should’ve known something wasn’t right
from the beginning. His usual fee to do a job was half as
much, and Priest was considered to be the highest paid
enforcer at the agency. Vanity and greed had prompted
him to postpone his vacation the moment the job had come
in.
When headlights appeared in his rear-view mirror,
Priest’s chest tightened. He was on a country road with
nowhere to go but forward. With one hand on the wheel, he
leaned over and removed his Smith and Wesson
semiautomatic pistol from the glove box and set it beside
him on the seat.
When the car behind him turned off the county road
and into one of the long driveways, Priest exhaled. “Pul
yourself together,” he grumbled.
He drove to the smal house he’d purchased between
Sheridan and Cattle Val ey. The house was another change
in his life he refused to examine too closely. During one of
his down moments on a job, Priest had idly been surfing the
Internet. For some unknown reason, he’d begun to search
available real estate in or around Cattle Val ey. The smal
white clapboard house on sixty acres looked like it had
seen better days, but the photographs of the property
surrounding the home had caught his attention.
With the help of a wire transfer from a bank in
Switzerland, in a matter of days Priest had become the
proud owner of his first house. He’d told himself it would be
a good idea to find a hidey-hole in case trouble came his
way, but deep inside he knew there were other reasons for
buying the property.
He drove around back and parked the twenty-year-old
pickup in the detached garage. The truck was also a new
purchase. The rusted brown Chevy was completely different
from his usual. He’d thought more than once there was a
strong chance he was in the beginning stages of a
complete mental breakdown. For years he’d loved the
dangerous life he led, so why a couple of weeks in Cattle
Val ey had seemed to change him so profoundly he stil
couldn’t wrap his mind around.
He grabbed the three bags of groceries he’d
purchased in Sheridan and stuck the handgun in his
waistband before letting himself into the house. After
putting away the groceries, Priest moved to the bedroom.
He removed the floorboards he’d loosened earlier and
stared down at the mini cache of guns, money and false
identities. I should just disappear, he thought for the
hundredth time. So why hadn’t he?
Priest removed one of the disposable cel phones he
kept on hand and his scrambler before replacing the
floorboards. He’d barely stepped foot in the kitchen when
the agency phone started ringing again. “Fuck it,” he
cursed, reaching for the phone. Before answering, he
turned on the scrambler and a recording of beach noise.
After al , he was supposed to be vacationing on the beach.
“You lied to me,” he accused.
“Secured?” Alan Jeffries, Priest’s handler asked.
“This isn’t my first rodeo,” Priest growled.
“I didn’t lie. The client requested you receive minimal
information. I gave you enough to do your job. Nothing more
was necessary.”
“Bul shit. You didn’t tel me everything because you
knew I wouldn’t have gone through with it.” Priest took a
deep breath. The job had been his last as far as he was
concerned. “Why isn’t the money in my account?”
“Because the client is under a watchful eye,” Jeffries
announced.
“Too damn bad. You tel him to either pay up or expect
a visit.”
“It’s not as cut and dried as that. The money has to
come from several sources. It’l just take time.”
“Time for what?” Priest rubbed his forehead. Had the
agency discovered his desire to retire? Fuck. If they’d
found out without him going through the proper channels,
the agency would believe he’d gone rogue. Bob Fisher
pleading for his life flashed to the forefront of his mind.
Priest had been hired to eliminate his on-again-off-again
partner when it was discovered Fisher had received a large
advance from a publisher for his memoirs.
“Time for the story to die down. What the hel is wrong
with you?” Jeffries asked.
“Wel you’d better convince him otherwise. I was told
she lived alone. No one said anything about a couple of old
people! What the hel kind of immoral clients are you
accepting anyway?”
“You of al people have no right to question someone
else’s morality,” Jeffries replied.
“The fuck I don’t! I’m done. Tel the higher ups that if I
don’t get my money heads wil rol .”
“There’s no need to bring anyone else into this. I’l talk
to the client.”
“You do that. I’l expect my money by morning.” Priest
hung up. He turned off the recording and scrambler before
opening the cupboard. What the fuck had he just done? The
agency may be government sanctioned, but only the
highest levels of the executive branch knew they existed.
Therefore, the agency was cleared to police themselves in
whatever way they felt necessary.
He opened a can of pork and beans and ate them
cold as he tried to come up with a plan. A man didn’t just
quit the agency. Although a few had managed to get out, it
had been a long, drawn-out process. Even Al Jessup,
Priest’s best friend and former assassin, stil had agents
watching him from time to time.
Jessup was the closest thing Priest had to a real
friend. He could always talk the situation over with him. Life
could get very interesting for Priest and it might not hurt to
have Jessup watching his back. The agency didn’t take
kindly to threats from their contractors.
Priest rinsed out the empty can and tossed it into the
recycle bin. He’d covered his tracks to Cattle Val ey wel .
As far as Jeffries and everyone else knew, Priest was
enjoying the sun in one of the out-of-the-way tropical
locations he’d always favoured. No one would expect him
to be in Wyoming.
Hel , he was as surprised as anyone that he was here.
When the shit had gone down in Virginia, the first place
Priest had thought to run was Cattle Val ey and his new
home. More disturbing was the reason he’d thought of
heading to Wyoming. Luke Hatcher.
Maybe laying low in Cattle Val ey would give him a
chance to work Luke out of his system. It never took much
for Priest to get bored with a sex partner. So far Jessup
had been the one exception to that rule, and they hadn’t
fucked for years.
Priest ran his palm over the bulge pressing against
his zipper. The little twins in Bogotá had been fun for a few
days, but even they weren’t enough to sustain his cravings
for long. Perhaps going a few rounds with Luke would help
his concentration.
With a smile on his face, Priest began to undress.
After a quick shower, he put on a pair of jeans and a white
silk-blend T-shirt. The fabric appeared almost sheer
against his dark brown skin, leaving little of Priest’s chest to
the imagination.
“Perfect,” he said to his reflection in the bathroom
mirror. He rubbed his jaw, wondering if he should take the
time to shave. “Nah, you’re stil sexy as hel ,” he reminded
himself.
Although he wasn’t traditional y handsome, Priest had
never had to work at getting a man into bed. Whether it was
his massive stature or the aura of danger that surrounded
him, he didn’t know. Whatever it was, gay men of al sizes
and colours seemed drawn to him. Happily, Priest always
had the pick of the litter to fuck.
The first night he’d spotted Luke in O’Brien’s, he’d
done just that. He’d grinned at the heavily tattooed man and
waited for Luke to move through the crowd towards him.
Priest had held out his hand and without a word, he’d led
Luke towards the front door of the bar. With no time to
spare for the luxury of a bed, Priest had ushered Luke to his
rented Chrysler 300.
“Sweet ride,” Luke had said, sliding into the
passenger seat.
“I hope so,” Priest had answered, his desire evident in
the deep, gravel ed tone of his voice.
“Name’s Luke.”
Without giving Luke his name in return, Priest had
reclined the driver’s seat as far back as it would go and
unzipped his jeans.
Like a moth to a flame, Luke wasted no time covering
the crown with his mouth. With his eyes closed, Priest had
rested one hand in Luke’s thick shoulder-length brown hair
while the other explored Luke’s jean-encased ass. He’d
had thoughts of ripping the denim seam open to get to the
hole he’d been dying to feel sliding down his cock.
Evidently he hadn’t been the only one needing more
because suddenly Luke had released Priest’s cock and
had begun to strip out of his own clothing. Priest’s first real
look at the tattoos covering Luke’s upper torso, hips and
groin had been in the dim light shining through the heavily
tinted car windows.
Naked, Luke had straddled Priest’s lap, but when
he’d moved in for a kiss, Priest’s head had reared back.
“No kissing,” he’d grumbled.
“Seriously? That’s one of the best parts of fuckin’.”
Priest had turned his head to the side and reached for
the lube hidden in the console between the seats. “No
kissing. You wanna fuck or what?”
Luke’s eyes had narrowed as Priest had begun
working a finger in and out of his ass. “What if I say no?”
Luke had asked.
“Then you’l never know the joy of riding this fat cock
you seem so enamoured with.” Priest had then added a
second finger.
“Why no kissing?”
“Because this is about fucking. Nothing more.”
Luke had lifted himself off Priest. At first Priest had
believed the smal er man was going to bail, but Luke had
simply produced a condom from the back pocket of his
discarded jeans. He’d slowly rol ed the condom down
Priest’s length before sighing.
“Someday you’re gonna regret not taking your time
with me. And when that day happens, I hope you come
back to beg me for more,” Luke had told him.
“Don’t hold your breath, kid. Rarely do I go back for
seconds.”
Lowering himself a half-inch at a time onto Priest’s
cock, Luke had smiled. “Oh, but you haven’t real y had the
ful meal yet. This is just an appetiser, something to tease
you with until you figure out how to do me right.”
Priest shook his head, bringing him out of the memory
that had replayed in his dreams for months. Whether it was
Luke’s chal enging words or the feel of his tight little body
enveloping Priest’s cock, he stil didn’t know, but Luke’s
words had come back to bite him in the ass.
After shoving his feet into his boots, Priest left the
house through the back door and climbed into his car.
Digging the disposable cel phone out of his pocket, he
cal ed his old friend.
“Hel o?” Brac answered.
“Since you answered Jessup’s phone, I take it the two
of you haven’t kil ed each other yet,” Priest said.
“How do you know I’m not standing over his bleeding
body as we speak?” Brac asked, playing along.
“Because every good assassin knows you don’t
answer a dead man’s phone. It’s against the rules.” Priest
grinned as he drove down the grass-covered gravel
driveway. Despite the fact that Brac was steadily getting
nailed by Priest’s only long-term fuck buddy, Priest liked the
guy.
“Damn. You caught me. He’s in the kitchen getting me
a beer.”
“I’m in town,” Priest announced. “I’m headed towards
O’Brien’s and thought the two of you would like to join me.”
“When’d you get here?” Brac asked.
“A few minutes ago.” The lie rol ed smoothly off
Priest’s tongue. “So are you up for a night of rowdy
drinking?”
“Why don’t you just come by? We’ve got plenty in the
fridge.”
“Because I can’t get me a piece of ass at your place.
Unless you’re offering?” he quickly added.
“Dreamer. Hang on.”
Priest heard Brac tel Jessup who was on the phone.
The growl emitted by his old friend didn’t bode wel for
Priest’s night of catching up.
“What the fuck are you doing in town?” Jessup asked.
“I’ve left you about twenty fucking messages, you asshole.”