Texas_Winter (12 page)

The restaurant was anti-climactic. Riley didn't know what he had been expecting, but it certainly wasn't the small man in a suit who looked more like an accountant than a master criminal. In fact, that's exactly what he turned out to be, just an accountant of sorts. He made Riley promises he had apparently made to Jeff. He didn't for one minute believe Riley was anything but who he claimed to be—someone who needed access to contracts and funds unable to go about it the legitimate route.

"I can get you forty-eight hours on everyone else for new contracts," he said with a self-satisfied grin. He leaned back in his chair, twirling a glass of port. "Jeff always came to me. I wouldn't even like to list the billions HayesOil made off of my intelligence information."

"How do you get the information?" Riley attempted to inject innocent enthusiasm into his voice and deliberately placed his hands on the table so the watch wouldn't miss a single word. Jenkins was nearly preening, and he moved forward in a posture that screamed he was going to share secrets.

"If I told you, I'd have to shoot you," he said as he smirked. Riley had never been closer to punching someone in the face than at that moment. "In all seriousness though—" He sat back and looked at Riley with an expression Riley could only describe as sly. "I had a good percentage with your brother." He shook his head slowly and raised his glass. "He'll be missed." Riley gritted his teeth and lifted his own crystal tumbler of iced water in mock salute. "It was just a shame the McAllisters got… well, you know."

Riley's stomach clenched. Was that a name he should know? Maybe he should go along with this.
"A terrible situation," he offered carefully.
"It wasn't my idea, you know," Jenkins pointed out, the fine wines and port obviously playing havoc with his ability to be discreet. "Someone higher than me ordered the hit. I must admit I was more than a little put out not to have been included in the negotiations."
"With McAllister…"
"Yes. I knew him well, told them he would have everything they needed at the estate."
"His estate?" Riley widened his eyes in mock surprise. He didn't have one iota of an idea what the fuck this accountant guy was talking about. He couldn't overplay his hand here.
"Martha's Vineyard. I went there a lot, you know, was very close to his wife—if you know what I mean." Riley wondered if, at that point, Jenkins was going to wink. When, in fact, Jenkins
did
wink, a bubble of hysterical amusement attempted to rise in Riley, but he pushed it down ruthlessly. "So all that time he had what they wanted, but hell if they're going to get it now he's dead."
"Hmm," Riley encouraged.
Jenkins's cell sounded for a received text, and he looked down at the flashing screen. Riley noticed a quick flash of an expression—was that fear?—and then it disappeared as quickly as it had appeared when Jenkins stood. Clearly, Riley was getting the check for the dinner as suddenly Jenkins seemed very keen to leave.
"You'll be hearing from me."
Which wasn't going to be happening, as when Riley exited the restaurant some five minutes later, Jenkins was dead on the sidewalk, a bullet directly between his eyes, his brains on the wall behind. A huddle of people clustered around his body. Paramedics arrived, and Riley backed away. He had to get away from here before anyone questioned who exactly Jenkins had been with. There was no way he wanted to deal with local cops; he'd let the Feds sort this out.
In shock, he drove home, the welcome DD sign he passed under serving as a barrier for the horror of what he'd just seen. His cell rang as he climbed out of his car, and he answered the call
"We have the shooter. A new lead in the McAllister murders. Job well done," was all Agent Jones had to say.
"You knew he was going to get shot?"
"Not exactly, though we suspected someone wanted him dead, and we assumed he did as well. He knew too much, and that's probably the reason he's been in hiding. We knew the risks, but we needed to know who ordered the hits on the McAllisters, and why, and what names Jenkins might throw out to you in the conversation."
"That's fucking cold."
"We had to pull him out of hiding, and the lure of money and the Hayes name was enough."
"You used me."
"I wouldn't go that far, Riley. We had no choice. You were the only draw big enough. As I said, we have the shooter—"
"What if I had been standing next to him?"
"It was a precision shooting—"
"What the fuck—"
"Goodbye, Mr Hayes."
"Campbell-Hayes, asshole!" Riley shouted, but he realized he was talking to nothing but thin air.
He was alone inside the ranch house, and he pulled the suit off and dropped it straight into the garbage, jacket, pants, shirt and tie. He scrabbled to unhook the watch and nearly threw it onto the bedside cabinet, then thought twice in case he had depressed the button. He placed it carefully on the side, face up, making sure it was in the off position. Fucking thing.
Part of him wished he felt grief at what had happened to Jenkins, but all he felt was anger. He had been used, and it didn't help that he could have freaking died out there today. Hayley wasn't due home for a while. He'd asked Eden to pick her up from school, and she'd said she would be taking Hayley "girly shopping". Where the hell was Jack? He needed Jack. He needed a bar fight or just a fight or hard mindless sex.
"I heard the car." Jack's voice made him spin to face his husband at the bedroom door. "Was it… Did it go okay?" Jack didn't look good himself.
"Okay," Riley said, instantly attempting to reassure Jack and hoping his husband wouldn't see he was lying through his teeth.
"Did you get anything out of him?"
Riley shrugged in answer, toed off his socks, and stripped off his boxers until finally he stood naked by their bed. His hand immediately went to his dick, and he began running a hard grip from root to tip. It wasn't enough to get off, or to even get harder, but it was enough to make the light in Jack's eyes turn from worried and concerned to completely confused. Life affirming sex is what Riley wanted, and it was what Riley was going to get if he had his way. He didn't say anything, just climbed on to the bed as provocatively as a six foot four man could and then reached into the drawer for lube. He looked over his shoulder.
"Coming?" he asked. He smirked when he saw Jack already had his pants off and was rapidly pulling everything else away.
"I need a shower." Jack looked hopefully towards the bathroom and wiped at the sweat on his face with his shirt.
"No, you don't," Riley nearly growled. He just wanted Jack now. In him. Around him. Holding him.
"Jesus, Riley." Jack was fisting himself, and in a quick move, he had the bedroom door locked, and he was grabbing at lube.
"I don't need much," Riley insisted.
"Shut the fuck up. I'm not hurting you." Jack smoothed the cool liquid over Riley. It wasn't soft or sensuous; it was claiming and marking and animalistic. Riley held onto the headboard, gripping hard to the carved wood, so tight he felt one of the ornate posts give from the strain and loosen under his weight. He whimpered as Jack finished preparing him and pushed his way in. Jack was fast and hard, and his fingers dug into Riley's hips. Every thrust forward was met by Riley pushing back. Riley was going to be covered in bruises tomorrow.
"What… happened? Tell… me," Jack demanded with each push, but Riley couldn't tell him yet.
He released one hand from the carved posts, his other arm taking the full strain of this cowboy fucking him into the mattress. He was so close. It didn't matter what was in his head; this was primal and now. The head of his dick was wet, and the friction between hand and pillow was getting him there. He felt Jack stiffen above him and nearly howl with his completion. The feel of his lover inside him and the pain of short nails carving into his skin was enough to send Riley into an orgasm so hard he saw black. Jack pulled himself out and fell back on the bed, and every single muscle in Riley's body betrayed him. He collapsed where he was, right on top of the wet patch. He really didn't give a shit.
"What happened today, Ri?" Jack asked between breaths.
Riley loved it when his husband shortened his name like that. So much affection and familiarity dripped from the single syllable.
"I don't know. Jenkins looked like an accountant and told me this stuff about a guy in Martha's Vineyard, and then he received a text and left. I paid the bill."
"Were the Feds cool with what they got? Is it enough?" It was a simple question. Riley answered it in his head just fine, but the words to actually form the sentence were too far away for him to grab hold of. "Ri?"
"Someone shot him."
The silence was dangerous. It was the calm before the storm.
"Who? Jenkins? Who shot him?"
"I don't know."
"When?"
"When I was paying the check."
"In the restaurant?"
"On the sidewalk." Riley didn't want to recall the blood or the spray of brain matter up the wall.
"You were inside the restaurant?" Jack was still deceptively calm, and Riley winced before turning his face to look right at him.
"I was inside."
"What if you hadn't been, Riley? What if you had walked out with him?"
"The shot was pretty much dead center." Riley indicated his forehead with a tap of a finger. "They knew who they were aiming for."
Jack closed his eyes, and in a single motion, he rolled to his feet and grabbed at his jeans. He began to get dressed, wearing a very determined expression.
"Jack, what are you doing?"
"I'm going to find Agent Jones," he spat, "and I am going to kill him."
Riley's chest tightened, and he pushed himself to stand between Jack and the door. "No. Don't rise to it."
"That…
suit
… put my husband in the line of fire. I. Will. Kill. Him." Jack stopped centimeters from him, and Riley had never felt as vulnerable as he did being completely naked in between Jack in a temper and the cold wood behind him.
"Jack. Stop. This isn't something you can solve with your fists."
"Don't patronize me."
"I'm not. Come on, Jack. It's over."
Jack stared at him mutinously, but then something snapped in him, and instead, his eyes filled with worry. "Are you going to move out of my way?" he asked. "No." Riley's voice brooked no discussion. "I can take you."
"You can try."
"I am so fucking pissed, Ri."
"I know. I don't blame you. But please… Jack… we have Hayley to think about now."
Jack's shoulders relaxed, and little by little, the rest of his tense muscles loosened visibly. He closed both of his large hands around Riley's face. His grip was so tight, and the kiss that came with it was forceful. Riley could taste blood.
"Never again." Jack wasn't asking for a discussion; he was demanding.
"Never again."

Living with a daughter had Riley doing things he'd never thought he'd ever do. With Jack's family, he had always been involved in what the kids were up to on the periphery, but to actually have to dress up for Halloween was a new one. He was Dracula, and the face paints left a mess on the covers when Jack, aka The Cowboy That Had Risen from the Dead, made love to him in full makeup. Riley had pointed out there was no such character as the one Jack had chosen. Hayley had, with a very serious expression on her face, informed Riley that Halloween was pretend.

He didn't think he could love her more.
Thanksgiving was this huge family dinner, and Donna had chosen to hold the entire thing at the place where she was living—Neil's house at the practice. The combination kitchen/dining room was an old converted barn and was big enough for assorted Campbells and Hayeses to congregate. Older tables were pushed next to the large oak table in the center, and the whole thing was covered in red cloths. Donna was in her element, and she had Sandra on kitchen duty. Jim was playing super grandpa, and Neil and Josh spent a long time discussing sports. Eden had bought her journalist, and Riley was thankful big time as it put a smile on Jack's face that he had someone to talk horses with. Riley managed to corner his sister for a ten minute chat.
"Sean is sure making himself cozy," he started, and then cursed to himself because the words sounded a little off even to his own ears. To her credit, Eden didn't rise to the big brother baiting.
"He's a good guy," she said instead, and glanced over at her boyfriend fondly. Riley followed her glance, but he was more interested in the animated expression on Jack's face.
"Should I be worried?"
"What about?"
"About him and you and your money?" Riley winced again. Maybe it was a little too 'in your face'.
"He knows how much money I have in the bank, Riley, but he fell in love with me for me."
"Are you sure?"
"How can we ever be sure?"
"Did you get Jim to run a background check on him?" Riley narrowed his eyes as he saw Jack throw back his head and laugh loudly.
"I did," Eden started. "We couldn't find him in police databases, but his fingerprints were with the FBI, the CIA, and Interpol. His two alien abductions are on record as well." It took a few seconds to realize his sister was teasing him. When he did though, he cuffed her upside the head, and she rubbed the point with a muttered "
ow"
.
"Just… he seems like a nice guy and Jack likes him. Is he… Has he… Jeez, are you two…"
"What?" She leaned in to him with a conspiratorial whisper. "Out doing the nasty?" Riley pulled back in horror.
"I meant are you serious about each other!" Riley was horrified. He really didn't want to think of his baby sister kissing, let alone sleeping with someone. Eden just laughed.
"Well, we haven't exchanged promise rings yet." She sniggered.
"Okay…" Now what did he say?
"The article was good." Thankfully she changed the subject, eliminating his desperate need to find something to say.
"Yes, it was."
"And it's been received well."
"We got invited to
Ellen
," Riley added.
"Really? Are you going to do it?" she asked curiously.
"No freaking way." Riley and Jack had taken one look at each other when the call came through and said the same thing. "We think it may just settle down now." Sean and Jack chose that moment to walk up to them, and Riley tried his hardest to be the kind, supportive brother as opposed to the "leave my sister alone" brother.
"Beth and Josh want a family chat," Jack said, and with a quick kiss to Riley's lips, he left. Riley watched him leave, caught between wanting to admire the man from the back and worrying about why Jack's siblings wanted a family chat when the fourth member of the family, Donna, was blissfully unaware of their leaving.
This didn't bode well.