Lust for Vengeance Page 2

  But yes, the small and unfittingly named Scottish town of Glory had changed a lot in five years. Of course some things had remained drearily the same.

  The under-occupied chapel. Still empty, still dingy.

  The twenty-four hour garage. Still selling cheap flowers for a hasty apology.

  The high rise block of flats on the corner had been little more than scaffolding before he was put into prison. God, they looked so old now, so lived in. There were curtains up on some windows, blinds in others, and the noises of family life, some pleasant, some not so pleasant, leaked out from the substandard window frames.

  Judas walked at his side with a cocky swagger, his hands in the pockets of his dark jeans, probably so that the fur coat he wore swung a little with every step those snakeskin shoes took.

  He looked like a pimp.

  The thought occurred to Fergus before they had even left the flat together. Judas looked like someone who made too much money out of doing fuck all. He probably knew that he looked that way, though, and gave that impression. Doubtlessly all intentional.

  They walked further on and passed the police station, Fergus unable to stop his lip from curling at the mere sight of the place. Every one of the bastards who worked in there was more of crook than he had ever been, and he seethed at the thought of them all sitting in there, smoking cigarettes and drinking knocked off whisky. Self-righteous pricks with nothing better to do than leech off the earnings of the honest criminal.

  Suddenly Judas turned and walked up the driveway of a large and opulent mansion house, the grounds of which were littered with fountains and the odd small statuette of a naked putto.

  Really? This was it?

  Fergus looked around in surprise and as though reading his thoughts Judas grinned and spoke in that drawl of his.

  "It's a bit too close to the cop shop, yeah?

  But those horny bastards get treated just as well as anybody else who comes here, and likely for free."

  Fergus

  wasn't

  sure

  that

  he

  was

  comfortable with the idea of getting it on in one room while Detective Constable Asshole got off in the next one, but then if Judas came here, he would have made pretty damn sure it was a safe place. Judas never took any risks. He looked after number one and always had done.

  "You can get anything you want in here, baby, and I mean anything." He made a random shape in the air with his hands as though this explained things better, leaving a trail of smoke from his cigarette and then he continued. "And you should see the geezer runs this place. More make-up than your mother."

  Fergus stiffened a little at his words and stopped in his tracks. Very few women in this world had gained Fergus's admiration, and in fact, some people considered him to be a bit of a misogynist. But he loved his mother and would never have a word said against her, not even in jest, and he was surprised that Judas had forgotten that fact about him.

  "Don't call me baby, and I hear your filthy mouth mention my mother again and I'll..."

  Judas laughed and fobbed the threat off by slapping Fergus's back in an affable way, then he stopped too. He began to smoke in such a way that Fergus thought he was trying to finish his cigarette quickly before they entered the building, the lit end facing into his palm as he drew deeply on the other end.

  An amusing thought occurred to him.

  Did this place finally do for Judas what all those teachers, social workers, police officers and God knows who else in between couldn't? Was he actually displaying something like respect for something?

  Fergus grinned. "Looks a bit too, um...high class for you, Jude?"

  Judas didn't appear bothered by the slur or the sarcastic tone. He just smirked and crushed the end of the cigarette under the point of his shoe. "Well, I thought I'd splurge, seeing as it's your first day out."

  He walked on ahead, taking the steps smartly. Then he held the door open and looked back down at Fergus, waiting for him to follow.

  Fergus straightened his tie and walked up the stairs. If Judas MacGregor respected the place then maybe there was some merit to this.

  The cherub and fountain theme continued on inside the house and they were greeted by a hallway that looked to be straight out of one of the late Liberace's dreams. No surface had avoided the highlight of some gold leaf, no corner failed to house some small chubby naked angel shooting an arrow, and Judas pretended to be shot a few times by them as they passed.

  Fergus snorted at the tackiness of it all and was about to remark on the decor to Judas when he noticed the other man staring straight ahead. Judas grinned in that "Jack the lad" sort of way that some people probably found amusing but which Fergus just found childish.

  He followed Judas's gaze and looked, not without some amazement, at the man who approached them from the other end of the hall.

  "Mr MacGregor, how lovely to see you again. The boys will be delighted." As well as the slight hint of an accent, he had a warm smile that showed perfectly white and even teeth. His blond hair was coiffed into immaculate curls that framed a quite expertly made up face.

  He wore powder, pale blue eye shadow and the merest hint of gloss on his Cupid's bow lips.

  Fergus was aware that he was staring and maybe even that this mouth hung open, and he quickly closed it and stood up straighter.

  "Fergus, this is the owner of this fine establishment, Mr Mikhail Majewski."

  Judas then nodded his head curtly towards Fergus. "Mr Majewski, this is my associate, Fergus Campbell."

  Mikhail gave a pleasant smile then stopped at a gilt-edged table that had a heavy ornate book sitting on top of it. He ran a finely manicured and polished fingernail down a list of names.

  Fergus became aware that Judas had angled his head to get a better look at the other man's ass as he leaned to peruse the elegant calligraphy that spelled out the names on the pages.

  He wasn't sure why he did it, but Fergus nudged Judas with his elbow to make him stop.

  "Now! Who do we have available tonight?" Mikhail spoke in a silky and alluring way that sent a shiver down Fergus's spine. "Ah! We have Gabrys! Mr MacGregor?" He looked up through long lashes as though for approval. Were they false or real? Oh, who cared, they looked amazing.

  Judas grinned at him rather lecherously.

  "Cool." He nodded.

  Mikhail took a step closer to them and fixed Fergus with a look from the deepest blue eyes that he had ever seen in his whole life and again Mikhail flashed that perfect smile. A waft of sweet and floral perfume filled his nostrils, and for a moment Fergus thought that Mikhail was going to take his arm. Disappointingly he didn't, though, but just continued to look at Fergus in an enigmatic way.

  "And for you, since it is your first time here, Mr Campbell," Mikhail's long lashes fluttered fetchingly, "I will bring through a selection."

  Fergus felt that he had slipped into some kind of trance, and Judas slapped him on the back, annoyingly breaking the spell.

  "You lucky dog." He gave a dirty little chuckle.

  Mikhail walked back along the hall, his hips swinging in a totally natural way it seemed, as though he always walked like that, and he indicated a doorway.

  "If you would wait here, gentlemen?"

  There was that smile again. "The boys will be along soon."

  Judas walked into the room first and sat down on a sumptuous cream leather sofa.

  He extended his arms along the back and spread his legs in a slovenly fashion, the way only men who don't give a damn can do.

  Where had the former respect gone?

  Now Fergus was forced to sit next to him, a bit wooden looking in the small part of the sofa that wasn't taken up by some part of Judas.

  They sat in silence for a while and Fergus wondered how often Judas came here. He seemed perfectly well at home, waiting for whoever the hell Gabrys was, so maybe Judas had not been entirely truthful when he said that he was splurging in honour of this being
Fergus's first night out. Fergus smirked, already feeling sorry for the mystery boy who no doubt Judas called baby and who in turn would be expected to reply with a simpering "Yes, Daddy?"

  "I bet Mikhail there would go a bit, eh?"

  Judas grinned as he broke the silence.

  "Probably could teach me a thing or two..."

  He laughed and Fergus wasn't sure why he felt so suddenly defensive and never just laughed along with him. It just seemed he couldn't help it. "You have no fucking manners, Jude," he snapped.

  Fergus turned from Judas in disgust and listened to the approach of the brothel keeper's high heeled boots. The sharp clips drew closer and he watched the doorway with anticipation, his fingers tapping restlessly against his knees.

  Mikhail appeared at the door, leading a selection of attractive young men of various types and nationalities.

  Judas looked along the line of offerings and leaning close to Fergus, whispered conspiratorially into his ear, "Don't pick the one on the far left. No stamina." He laughed at this remark and Fergus rolled his eyes.

  "Shut up, Judas." Fergus looked along the line too, knowing that he was expected to feel spoiled for choice, but in reality, none of them interested him at all. Much as he tried, he could not stop his eyes from wandering to Mikhail. If only Mr Majewski had been one of the courtesans on offer then Fergus wouldn't have been forced to pick at random. They mostly all looked

  equally

  good-looking,

  yet

  uninspiring to him, but one stood out purely because he was an almost miniature version of his stunning boss.

  "Him," he indicated with a small flick of his fingers. "The blond."

  Mikhail clapped his hands and the other young men left, leaving only Fergus's choice and a rather mischievous looking dark-haired youth. He must have been the one called Gabrys because he looked across at Judas in a marvellously skilled impersonation of someone who was really pleased to see him. Judas looked back, his eyes fixed on Gabrys's eyes and his finger smoothing over his lips. There was an obvious bulge in the front of Judas's jeans and in fact the fabric had lightened there somewhat. The repeated stress on the threads from Judas's impatient cock had apparently created a worn patch. Fergus knew of course that they were sitting in a brothel but if the owner could conduct himself with such admirable dignity then why couldn't Judas? They were only going to be sitting there for a few moments longer so why couldn't he just keep his tongue in his mouth where it belonged until he was shown to his room and then no doubt the bold Gabrys would let him stick it wherever the hell he wanted to.

  Fergus sat up more and fixed his tie again unnecessarily, helplessly feeling the need to make up for his associate's ill behaviour.

  "Excellent choice, Mr Campbell. Sacha?"

  Mikhail beckoned the blond to stand next to the dark haired one, which he did. Both young men then looked at each other from the corners of their eyes as though conveying some silent message about the men they would be expected to entertain.

  * * *

  The following morning's dawn broke over two completely contrasting bedroom scenes.

  Fergus sat up in bed, eating breakfast from a tray, looking calm and a little more relaxed than he had done when he arrived.

  The sleeping figure of Sacha lay curled up and comfortable next to him covered by the duvet. Sacha, as it turned out, had been an excellent choice after all, and he was quite the expert at making a man feel that requesting only a hand job was not a slur on his manhood but actually the sign of a considerate lover. This was clearly a break for a young man who likely spent most of his time on his back or on his knees.

  Next door, Judas extracted himself from the broken remains of the bed. He raked about in the mess of sheets until he found Gabrys who was giggling, partially hidden under a burst pillow. He was covered in feathers and Judas pulled him into his arms, blowing one from off his nose gently before kissing him. They both fell down again and Gabrys laughed playfully as they rolled about in the debris.

  As Fergus fixed his tie in the mirror in the hallway a little later, he wondered if he should leave without Judas. After all, they were not joined at the hip, and perhaps Judas was already gone as they had made no arrangement to leave together.

  On his release from prison, it had always been Fergus's intention to seek out Judas sooner or later. But like most people in his situation, Fergus found himself craving some uncomplicated action, and Judas always knew the best places to find that.

  Obviously he could have searched for him at their old place of business, but Fergus hadn't been ready to meet up with the others in their gang yet. Finding Judas's flat had not been a problem. Glory was a small town and the personalised number plate on the E-type Jag outside of the building had been a dead giveaway. Of course a few people may have wanted to h a v e s t u d as part of their motor's registration, but couple that with red leather seat covers and Fergus had been pretty sure that he had found his man.

  Breaking into the place had been child's play.

  Ironic for a man who always put the safety of his own ass first.

  No big locks. No baseball bat behind the door. No sign at all that would indicate Judas felt anyone was out to get him.

  There would have been a fucking bodyguard on the door if he had felt even the slightest notion of threat.

  Even Judas wasn't stupid enough not to have felt some kind of resentment these past few years, but clearly he hadn't taken any implication of risk to his person seriously. That could work to Fergus's advantage later.

  The initial reunion over, Fergus had no real desire to spend any more time in Judas's company than was absolutely necessary. There was of course some business that needed attended to with regards to him, but this could wait. For now at least.

  Something caught Fergus's eye and he had to concentrate hard not to smile.

  Reflected in the mirror, Mikhail was sitting on a chaise at the other end of the hall, tapping a pen against his lips as he watched Fergus prepare to leave. A chiffon scarf was tied jauntily around his neck, white like everything else that he wore, and he elegantly crossed his legs seemingly unaware that Fergus could see him. With the book of client appointments clasped against his chest and the coy smile on his lips, Mikhail reminded Fergus of the way schoolgirls used to look at him in his younger days, when they were just beginning to realise how attractive he was.

  He watched Mikhail in the reflection for a while and then spoke quietly as he turned around to face him.

  "I hope my associate was generous to your boys?" He smiled and Mikhail continued to regard him as one might savour the sight of some delicious treat in a confectioner's window, his eyebrow arched with obvious interest.

  "Mr MacGregor showed his usual level of generosity, and added a little extra for the damage to the bed."

  Fergus shook his head slowly and pulled out his wallet from his jacket, ignoring the picture of his spouse there as he began to remove some notes from the black leather folds.

  "I am so sorry. He always was a tight git.

  Please allow me to--"

  "There really is no need." Mikhail got to his feet and approached him, extending his slim, tanned hand to catch him by the arm.

  Fergus couldn't help himself, looking down at the adorning rings, the perfect nails, and he sighed at the soft touch of the fingers which now enfolded his wrist.

  They looked so beautifully delicate against the dark hairs on the part of his own arm visible below his shirt cuff.

  Fergus caught himself staring and he realised that he had maybe been doing this for an uncomfortable period of time and raised his eyes only to see that Mikhail was looking at his wrist too.

  "If you are sure?" Fergus spoke quietly. "I would like to say thank you..."

  Mikhail lifted his gaze from Fergus's skin and looked up at him alluringly. "Well it is a charming offer..."

  "But?"

  " No but. " Mikhail chuckled a little and they looked into each other's eyes. Mikhail now clasped t
he client appointment book to his chest again, and Fergus couldn't help but let his gaze stray from the other man's eyes to his lips and back again.

  Mikhail was utterly beautiful, and Fergus had the wonderful thought as he took in how immaculate Mikhail was, that such outward perfection could only mean inward perfection too. He was so together and confident, and someone like that would never be interested in a big thug like Fergus Campbell, but remarkably he really did appear to be. Even more remarkable was the fact that he didn't appear afraid of showing his attraction.

  Mikhail's eyes wandered over Fergus quite openly, and Fergus breathed deeply, sure that what he was witnessing was desire.

  "Sorry, do go on..." He smiled helplessly as Mikhail let his finger slip along the top of the book, and Fergus had no idea why he found that simple movement so arousing but he just did.

  "Maybe you could say thank you by giving me some of your time instead?" Those long lashes fluttered again. "Dinner, perhaps?"

  They looked at each other and suddenly Fergus wished that Mikhail would clasp his wrist once more as he longed to feel those beautiful fingers slide over his skin and maybe not just over the skin on his arm.

  "It would be my pleasure." Fergus found his voice. Well maybe not his voice but a voice at least, and it didn't betray too much the feelings that he was having.

  Mikhail smiled warmly. "The pleasure will be mine."

  Fergus was still sure that they hadn't arranged to meet outside, but when he finally tore himself reluctantly away from the charming Mikhail, he found that Judas had waited for him. He was seated on the low wall at the foot of the stone steps, smoking a cigarette. Inexplicably, a white feather sat in Judas's hair, and although Fergus found this amusingly appropriate for the man, he didn't feel it worth mentioning.

  It must have been written all over his face, the joy that Fergus was feeling inside, because Judas took one look at him and called out in a voice laced with humour, "That good, eh?"