Purpose (4 page)

G
AR
punched in the pass code, unlocking the front door. The kid seemed uneasy.

“You live here?” Ryan’s wide eyes matched his voice.

“Yeah, something wrong?” Gar checked the area to be sure. Holding the door, he waved Ryan in. He noticed the security guard and tapped his hip to kill the illusion he had used when they were in the restaurant.

“Evening, Shelton.” Gar nodded at the man. “This is my friend Ryan. He’s going to be staying with me until he finds a place.”

“Um… sure.” The guard cocked his head as he spoke. After a second, he shrugged. “Whatever you say, Mr. Smith.”

“Nice to meet you, sir.” Ryan’s voice was barely audible, and he stuck close to Gar.

The guard rubbed the dark skin of his bald head. “Will he need a key?”

“No, not necessary.” Gar pointed in the direction of the elevators. “I have a spare, but thank you for asking.”

Ryan needed a bit of prodding to keep moving. His eyes swept the crisp, neat lobby. The waterfall on the wall leading to the elevator banks drew a smile, before he stopped to peer into the glass-enclosed business center. Dark at this hour, the half dozen computers and two coffee/espresso machines sat idle.

“This place is amazing.”

“It’s a place.” Gar had picked it because it was quiet. People slept at night and were gone during the day. Most days, he only had contact with the guard. Perfect.

The elevator arrived, and Ryan ended up near the buttons. “Hit fourteen.”

Ryan looked over before hitting the button. “Why am I not surprised you’re on the top floor?”

“It suits me.” Gar let the doors close, then faced his guest. “Something wrong? You seem nervous.”

Color rushed to Ryan’s face, even as he looked down. Gar felt Ryan’s heart rate jump. What had he said?

“It’s my first time.”

Gar squinted, looking for some clue. “First time?”

“Going home with someone.”

Without realizing he did it, Gar turned and shook his head. Stupid kid still didn’t get it. “Ryan, I didn’t pay you for the night. I thought we settled that.”

Harsh but steady, Gar’s voice sounded more disappointed than angry.

“I know, but still….”

The door opened before he could ask for clarification. “C’mon.”

Another emotion twisted Gar’s insides. Not sorrow, but still sad. Pity? No, it wasn’t that either.
Regret? Yes, regret.

Last apartment on the right, a coveted corner apartment. Top floor was the only one available when he’d inquired.

He flicked on the lights and waited for Ryan to come in before locking the door. He paused at the closet by the entrance. “Do you want to give me your coat?”

Hanger in hand, he motioned to the open closet with his eyes. Ryan scanned the empty hallway before he put down his bag and removed his coat. While Gar hung his jacket in the closet, Ryan moved into the main living area.

“Were you robbed?”

Gar followed the voice into the living room. “No.”

“Where’s your stuff?”

Visually, he swept the apartment. The couch, table, and chairs were there. Nothing seemed out of place. “This is my stuff.”

“That’s it? A sofa, kitchen table, and chairs?”

What else did he need? “Yes.”

Ryan moved to the kitchen and opened every drawer and cabinet. Twice, he stopped to look at Gar. When he opened the empty refrigerator, he shook his head.

“How long have you lived here?”

“A month.” He left his confused guest and went into the bedroom. Who had time to buy stuff for an apartment he might not stay in very long?

“Gar, you have no food, no plates, no cups, nothing. How do you live here?” Ryan took in the contents of the bedroom, but his expression didn’t change.

“I have all that I need. The sheets get changed, the towels washed. My clothes are clean, and I have a place to sleep. Everything else is unnecessary.” To emphasize his point, Gar nodded at the still-made bed.

Not waiting for Ryan to approve, he moved to the small closet by the bathroom. “Towels and such are in here. Help yourself.” He grabbed a set and put them on the counter in the bathroom before returning to the bedroom.

Ignoring his guest, Gar emptied his pockets into the top drawer of his dresser. Mindful of Ryan’s presence, he didn’t bother to hide his actions. He transferred money, lots of it, from his pants to the dresser.

“Do you always keep your money in your sock drawer?”

Turning, he shrugged. “Good a place as any. I can get to it when I need it.”

Head tilted, eyes narrow, Ryan stared at Gar. Holding up both hands, he said, “What if someone breaks in?”

Gar shut the drawer and walked over to his closet. “They won’t find anything.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Ryan followed him across the small room. Did he think being closer gave more force to his argument? “The first place someone will search is your dresser.”

“They won’t find anything in there. Trust me.” He removed a tee shirt and cotton pants and shut the door. “Let me shower, and after that the room will be all yours.”

“Gar….” Ryan stopped when Gar removed his shirt.

Ignoring his guest, Gar tossed his shirt on the wicker hamper in the corner. He sat on the bed to untie his shoes, before stepping out of his pants. A whiff of gunpowder hit his nose when he held up the pants. It was on him too. Hopefully, the shower would take care of it.

Ryan stood at the end of the bed, watching silently. Without a thought, Gar shucked his boxers on his way to the shower. Again, Ryan’s heart raced.

Stupid!
Not that he was vain, but he knew how he looked. No fat, tight muscles, nice ass—at least that’s what David used to tell him. If anything, it was better now. He spent so much time oblivious to those around him, he forgot Ryan would look. And since Ryan expected….

Forget him. Falling into his night routine, he adjusted the water and then brushed his teeth while it got hot. In the slowly fogging mirror, he stared at his reflection. Not a day older. If anything, he looked younger than when
It
had found him.

Shower and forget him.

Settling under the warm, almost hot spray, he put both hands on the wall, letting the water hit the top of his head. Streams rolled down his face and back as he let his mind process the night’s events.

There was something different about Ryan, something he could feel, but not identify. It wasn’t the kid himself, it was… different. He felt an instant attraction… no, not attraction, attachment. A hand in a glove.

Disconcerting as it was, it was the other realization that troubled him more. Every day for the forty years,
It
had impelled him to seek the guilty. The Purpose, his purpose, was never silent or calm.
It
required him to acknowledge the obvious. His life was not his anymore. With practice, he had corralled it, keeping it under control well enough that he didn’t go insane.

He still felt
It
, but it’d gone dormant. The pressure, unwanted and hated, had become so ingrained in who and what he was that its absence proved unsettling. And Ryan, unwittingly or not, was a piece of the mystery.

Focused on self-reflection, he almost missed the knock. “Gar?”

“Yes, Ryan.”

“Can I come in?” Gar listened a moment. Whatever Ryan wanted, it was causing his pulse rate to spike.

“The door’s open.” He winced. Such a welcoming invite.

The handle moved and the hinges squeaked. The minute change in temperature as the cooler air from the bedroom mingled with steam brushed over his skin. Ryan had come in but stopped. Probably just needed to piss—it was the only toilet.

Directing the water onto his face, he almost lashed out when the shower curtain parted behind him.

“What…?” How long had it been since he’d been surprised? Decades?

“You said I could come in.” Ryan stood by the curtain, naked, highly aroused, looking for approval. His lips curled into a shy smile as his eyes went from the open space to Gar’s body.

Staring at him, Gar felt himself smile. A real one, not forced or planned. The kid was trying to seduce him.

Gar’s smile must have been the sign Ryan hoped to get, as he stepped in and quickly pushed the vinyl sheet closed.

Ignoring the rush of blood to his groin, Gar said, “Ryan, you don’t need to do this.”

“I know, but I want to.” He moved closer, bringing with him a hint of peppermint. Dentyne, if Gar wasn’t mistaken. “The better question is, do you want me to go.”

Ryan was close enough that his rigid member rubbed against Gar’s now-hard cock. Their eyes remained locked, searching each other for something. In that instant, Gar knew Ryan was just as confused as he was.

“Feels like you want me to stay,” Ryan whispered, pressing his body against Gar’s.

The warmth and pressure of another body against his, unrelated to violence, flooded his system. Sensual contact was another facet of his life he’d tried to let go of. When that thought sank in, he put his hands on Ryan’s shoulders and pushed back gently. Their eyes met again, but this time, Gar wasn’t seeking answers.

“Ryan, I’m not sure this is a good idea. I’m not the type of person you should be around.”

The expected hurt and rejection never appeared. Instead, Ryan smiled. “I’m not exactly someone people want to be around either. Homeless and willing to be a hustler isn’t exactly prime dating stock.”

Overwhelmed by feelings he’d locked away more than thirty years ago, Gar shook his head. “You’re not homeless, nor undesirable. But you don’t know me, and that’s dangerous.”

Three inches shorter, Ryan tilted his head up. His dark-brown eyes sparked with life even as he blinked to clear away the water. He reached out, put his left hand on Gar’s chest, and ran his fingers over the wet hairs.

“My God,” he whispered, never losing eye contact. “Your body is so hard.”

Ryan’s fingers traced a pattern over most of Gar’s torso, transfixing him with the sensation. Ryan grabbed the soap and slowly ran his hands from Gar’s neck to his ankles, making sure to clean all points in between.

“Turn around,” he whispered, applying gentle pressure to Gar’s arm.

Instead of doing what he was told, Gar moved around his companion, allowing Ryan to warm himself under the water. Repeating his movements, Ryan again rubbed soap up and down Gar’s body.

After giving special care to his butt and legs, Ryan moved closer, pressing his hard-on against Gar’s backside. Pulling the two together, he wrapped his arms around Gar, gently working the soap back into a lather.

They remained pressed together for a couple of minutes, before Gar turned, hoisted Ryan by his armpits, and switched positions. Ryan’s back slid over Gar’s soapy chest, while Gar reached around to clean his front.

Gar could feel his cock sticking up, pressed between Ryan’s cheeks. Twice, Ryan wiggled his butt and then rubbed up and down. By now, Gar had put the soap away, holding Ryan to enjoy the rush of unfamiliar feelings.

When they had been under the water for fifteen minutes, Gar made sure they were thoroughly rinsed, then turned the taps off. A second set of towels lay on the counter, and Ryan shrugged slightly before taking one.

Dry and in need of a moment alone, Gar rummaged through the linen closet, removing a toothbrush still in its plastic. “I don’t know if you have one, but this one is new.”

“Thanks. I do, but it’s buried.”

Gar walked toward the window in his bedroom, wrapping the towel around his waist as he moved. Pulling steadily, he opened the blinds to the city below. The kid woke something Gar kept dormant for a reason. People couldn’t understand what he’d become. Worse, caring for someone only put them at risk. The Purpose didn’t care about the position held by the guilty. If vengeance was required, Gar needed to exact punishment. He’d killed stupid kids, drug lords, government agents, and powerful politicians. Survival required he move around, hide his identity, and not leave witnesses.

Having someone around made it harder, and while he was fairly invulnerable, Ryan was most definitely not. Gar knew he should send the kid away, but he was also aware of the pain it would cause. Not just to Ryan, but to him.

If he wasn’t going to reject him, he owed him a full explanation. Without any proof to support it, Gar was certain Ryan wouldn’t leave once he found out. Even with the risks being around Gar posed, Ryan would stay. For the same reasons Gar couldn’t turn him out, Ryan couldn’t leave.

Footsteps and the movement of the air alerted him before Ryan’s image appeared in the glass. He had a towel around his waist and had managed to tame his still-damp hair.

“Gar?”

“Yes?”

“Please don’t sleep on the couch.” Although a hint of desire caught in Ryan’s voice, the need to be accepted was louder.

Keeping his gaze fixed on the city lights, Gar steeled himself to decline the request. “Ryan….”

“Please?” The need in his voice forced Gar to turn.

Skinny, pale, and mostly smooth, with a patch of hair just above the waist, Ryan looked vulnerable in just his towel. It occurred to him that Ryan was worried that the moment had passed and Gar wouldn’t want someone who looked like him. If only he knew.