Santori Reloaded, page 12
part #3 of Santori Series
“You need to learn how to mask your emotions. I thought you were an expert at that. From the fighting.”
“Do I need to mask them from you?” I asked. “I thought we were being straight up with each other.”
Theo chuckled but didn’t respond. The elevator door slid open, revealing a dark cavern. No windows, no light. A chill seeped into the elevator car.
“Ready?” Theo asked.
“Lead on,” I said.
He stepped out and felt along the wall, and suddenly the room was flooded with harsh fluorescent light. Bare concrete floors and concrete walls down here, stark and cold and gray. Theo led me around a corner, and then we were standing in an enormous room filled with crates. So many crates I couldn’t begin to estimate their number. Three letters had been stenciled on the sides of each one in black spray paint: U.S.A.
My voice sounded muted and far away when I asked, “What is all of this?”
“Go have a look.” Theo gestured to a nearby stack of crates. It was one of the shorter stacks, and the lid of one crate had been pushed aside. Packing material that looked like hay spilled out of it.
I moved closer, approaching the crate with caution. I didn’t like Theo at my back, but that’s where he was. Breathing down my neck as I took faltering steps toward whatever he wanted to show me.
Something important. I knew that. I noticed I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t keep my breathing under control. Theo was excited, too. Or scared.
When I finally stood over the crate and peered inside, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Guns, cold and black. Machine guns. The kind that soldiers used to mow down the enemy with extreme prejudice.
Theo moved in beside me. “What do you think?”
“I think these are guns,” I said, trying to school my emotions.
“Astute observation.” He pulled one of the weapons from the box, shook a few shreds of packing onto the floor, and held the thing out to me. “This is an M16. They’re fully automatic.” When I balked and stepped back, he said, “It’s not loaded. You can’t shoot yourself. Or me.”
Tentatively, I reached out and took the gun. It was heavy, and it felt like death beneath my fingers, even with an empty slot where the ammo should have been. My hands trembled. “What are we going to do with these?”
“Sell them, of course.” Theo pulled another gun from the crate and pointed it across the room. “I—We,” he amended, “already have a buyer.”
“So these came from the US military, and we’re the middle man?”
He lowered the gun and smiled at me. “You catch on quick.”
“But how—” I glanced around at the endless stacks of crates. “How did you get so many?”
He shrugged, the gun now dangling at his side. “I have my ways.”
Well, that wasn’t helpful at all. “Did you say we already have a buyer? As in singular? One buyer?”
“Technically, it’s a group. But yes, one buyer.”
“Jesus. Who would need so many guns?”
Theo winked. “Patience, Little Santori. I can’t spill all of my secrets at one time. What would be the fun in that? I will tell you there’s more, and not just guns. Grenades, ammo... We have more upstairs, and in the warehouse where you used to fight.”
“Is the military having a going-out-of-business sale?”
Theo chuckled. “Let’s just call it surplus.”
“But who—”
Theo held up a hand to silence me. “Curiosity killed the cat, remember? No more questions. Please don’t forget your place in our arrangement.”
“I get it,” I said. “But I’d like to ask one more if that’s okay.”
The slight smile on Theo’s face let me know he enjoyed hearing me ask for permission. It rankled, but I really had no choice if I was going to get the information Aaron needed and make it out of this fucked up situation in one piece. I might have held the purse strings, but in this world, Theo was in charge. I had to show him respect even if it made me want to throw up all over his Gucci loafers.
“One more question, and then it’s my turn.” Theo crossed his arms and waited.
“Okay.” I took a deep breath, wondering if I was about to ask a really stupid question. “How did you pay for all of these?”
He furrowed his brow. “I didn’t. I’m wealthy, but I don’t have that kind of money. Not yet.”
“So, who—”
He placed a hand on my shoulder. “You did, Kage. They were bought and paid for with your money, so until they’re sold, they belong to you. Then, after the deal goes down, you and I split everything fifty-fifty. Think of me as a silent partner.” He smiled. “An invisible partner.” He left me standing there in shock and moved to return his weapon to the crate.
I studied the gun in my hand, my thoughts going ninety-to-nothing. Fuck. My guns? What had I gotten myself into? Aaron had promised me immunity in return for my help in bringing Theo down, but could I really trust that? Aaron’s priority was his case against Theo, or finding out who Theo was working with. Hell, I still wasn’t sure what the end goal was. Either way, I was a secondary consideration in Aaron’s plan. What if I got trampled in all of this mess? What if Aaron couldn’t protect me in the end? I had to face the reality that I could end up in prison for gun running. Buying guns from the U.S. government and selling them to—
Who? Who the fuck needed so many guns? I shuddered to imagine.
And what if I didn’t end up in prison? What if I ended up in that desert grave with my limbs sawed off?
“You look good like that,” Theo said, jolting me out of the awful fantasies playing out in my head.
“Like how?” I asked.
“With a gun in your hand.” He ran his tongue along his bottom lip. “You were born for this, you know. To stand at my side. Everything that’s happened in our lives has brought us to this moment in time.”
I couldn’t argue, because it’s exactly what I wanted. To stand at Theo’s side and be trusted by him. Never mind that I also wanted to kill the bastard.
Chapter 14
JAMIE
It was after nine when I clicked the publish button and sent what was destined to be the most controversial blog post of my life out into the world. Anthony Rodriguez: The Naked Truth. I stared at one of the photos I’d take of Anthony. The one with his ass bared, looking back over his shoulder with a wicked glint in his eye as if daring me to look.
Fuck. What had I been thinking?
This whole publicity stunt was about to become a clusterfuck of epic proportions, and I was smack dab in the middle of it. I ran a hand over my face, feeling two days’ worth of stubble there—physical proof that I was depressed. Probably not the best time to be making life-altering business decisions, but it was too late to back out now. For better or worse, the deed was done. Might as well own it.
I picked my phone up off the desk and sent the text Anthony had been waiting for. It’s live. Congratulations. I emailed you the link.
My phone rang, startling the hell out of me, and I looked down to see Anthony’s name on the screen. I groaned before steeling myself and answering the call. “Hello?”
Anthony’s voice, low and gravelly, came through the phone. “Why do you say hello like you don’t know who it is? I know you have my number programmed in.”
I leaned back in my chair and winced at the stiffness in my shoulders and neck. “How else should I answer a phone?”
“How about, Hey, baby. How was your day?”
I laughed. “Ummm… I think I’ll stick with hello. Now down to business. How do you feel now that you’ve officially come out? I can still delete the post. It’s only been a few minutes, so there’s a chance no one has seen it.”
“No regrets here, Jamie. It’s a load off my mind, to be honest.”
“Good. Are you looking at the blog post now?”
“No, I’m lying in bed. Why don’t you Skype me?”
I smirked. “Nice try, Rodriguez.”
He laughed. “So you can show me the post. I’m not trying to give you a peep show.”
“You can’t read it over Skype. Why don’t you just check your email for the link I sent you?”
“I will. I’ve got my laptop right here, but… Well, this might sound stupid, but I want to see it for the first time with you.”
Before I met Anthony Rodriguez, I never would have thought a world-class fighter could be so damn needy. One minute he was all confidence and over-the-top flirtation, and the next he was like a little kid. Then again, he was only twenty years old. When I’d first met him, he’d seemed a lot older, and intimidating as hell. Now that I’d gotten to know him, he was just irritating. And maybe just a little bit endearing every now and then.
“All right, fine. Hang up so I can Skype you.”
I clicked on the shortcut for Skype, which had recently become the most-used app on my phone. I’d found that when it came to doing interviews and talking to sources, face-to-face was best, and most everybody had Skype. This would be the third time Anthony and I had used it together, but the times before had been during the day. Not at night with Anthony lying in bed.
The Skype ringtone played for a moment—long enough that I started to wonder if he would answer at all—and then Anthony came into view on the screen, holding his phone above his head as he lay on his back. He was shirtless, of course, and I could tell he’d been cutting weight for the upcoming fight. It was hard to miss that fact with his bedsheets pushed all the way down to his hips, revealing an uncharacteristically wiry build and ripped-as-fuck abs.
“Hey, baby,” he said in a lazy drawl. “How was your day?”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re a shameless exhibitionist, you know that? This is a business call. Couldn’t you have at least put some clothes on for this?”
“I was already in bed. This weight cut has got me a little worn out.”
“Well, all I’ve got to say is you’d better be wearing something under those covers.”
“Hmmm… Honestly, I can’t remember. Would you like to check?” He reached for the covers.
“Okay, I’m hanging up now.”
He laughed. “No, please don’t hang up. I was just messing around. I promise I’ll be all business from here on out. I’ve got the email pulled up, and I’m about to click the link. You say when.”
Despite his repeated pleas, I had refused to show Anthony the pictures or give anything away beyond what we’d discussed in the hotel room during the interview. He’d blown up my phone with increasingly desperate text messages until I’d finally had to threaten not to do the story at all. After that, he’d calmed down, but I knew he was still dying to see the photos. I couldn’t really blame him, but the secrecy—the delayed gratification—had afforded me some measure of control over him. One little sliver of rope to hang onto while the rest of my life spun out around me.
But now it was time to unveil my masterpiece. “Okay, you can click the link now.”
Anthony glanced to the side and fiddled with his laptop for a moment, then sucked in a breath. “Damn,” he said, his tone reverent.
“What?” I asked, suddenly self-conscious. I’d worked so hard on the post, tweaking the fonts and colors a million times until it was perfect. “Do you like it?”
“Are you kidding? My ass looks amazing.”
“Oh, my God. Is that all you care about?” I asked, not bothering to hide my irritation. I never pulled any punches with Anthony. If he said something that rubbed me the wrong way—which was constantly—I wasn’t afraid to call him out on it.
The problem was, he enjoyed it too much. He got off on pushing my buttons. Like a precocious child, he was constantly testing my boundaries, and only when I threatened to withdraw completely would he back down. Always with a laugh, and sometimes with a half-assed apology.
“How did you get to be such a good photographer?” he asked, his tone turning more serious. “No lie, those pics are sexy as fuck.”
I chuckled begrudgingly. “Not that you’re conceited or anything.”
“Hey, half of the sexy is your camera work. It’s like you made me—” He bit his lip thoughtfully. “I didn’t even know I looked like that.”
“Well, you do.” I scrolled back up to the top of the post and paused on the main photo. In it, Anthony sat on the end of the hotel bed, fully clothed with his elbows resting on his knees. He stared straight into the camera with an expression of such utter vulnerability it took my breath away. “This is my favorite. That look you’re giving the camera is so intense I feel like I can almost see into your soul.”
As much as the guy was constantly begging for—or demanding—compliments, he ignored that one. Maybe it wasn’t sexual enough, or maybe it was too real. Whatever the reason, he chose not to acknowledge it and changed the subject instead. “So what happens now?”
I turned the phone back around so that we could see each other and sighed. “You need to brace yourself for the backlash, because the internet is about to shit itself. This is not your everyday blog post, you know. It’s an R-rated coming-out story written by your upcoming opponent’s boyfriend.” I shook my head, still not quite believing I’d done it.
“Boyfriend, or ex-boyfriend?” Anthony asked. He didn’t pull any punches with me, either.
“Ummm…Ex-boyfriend at the moment. It’s complicated.”
“Because you still have feelings for him?” Anthony folded an arm behind his head, giving me an expression much like the one in my favorite photo. Not to mention an eyeful of underarm hair and flexing biceps.
I closed my eyes.“I don’t want to talk about that.”
“Okay,” he said quickly. “Then let’s talk about the haters. I wonder what they’ll say about me.”
“And about me,” I added, trying not to look too hard at Anthony’s image on the screen. At the long expanse of flank and ribcage, the stretch of bicep, and the underside of his arm that suddenly seemed too personal. Obscene, even. Was he posing like that on purpose? I cleared my throat. “The Kage fanboys are going to have a field day with this. We may even get death threats.”
Anthony laughed quietly, but when I didn’t join in, the laughter died on his lips. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I am. I don’t think you understand that we’ve both just thrown down a gauntlet.”
“I threw down the gauntlet when I took the fight against him, but you’re an MMA blogger. This is just business for you. It’s your job to be impartial and deliver stories, right? If Kage doesn’t get it, that’s his problem. You just keep being impartial and doing your job. You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of.”
Impartial. That was a laugh. I wondered what Anthony would say if he knew just how personal this was for me. If I confessed that part of the draw had been revenge for Kage pushing me away and then inviting that monster Theo Brown into our home. And for letting that slutty little twink crawl up between his legs and—
I growled and ran a hand through my hair in an effort to erase the unwanted memories that plagued me a hundred times a day. Fuck those memories. And fuck Kage for shitting all over our happily-ever-after.
“You okay?” Anthony asked. “I didn’t mean to bring up you-know-who again.”
“I’m fine,” I snapped. “Could you please change positions? I’m tired of looking at your armpit.”
Anthony smirked. “Damn, Jamie. Tell me how you really feel.” He lowered his arm slowly and rested his hand on his chest, brushing his fingertips purposefully over one nipple. “Is this better?”
“You’re an asshole, Rodriguez.”
He smiled. “And you like it.”
We sat in silence for a moment, staring awkwardly at each other. I was just about to tell Anthony I had to go, but a noise from the hallway caught my attention. Steve came into the room, his blond hair wet and dripping all over the floor. He held a towel around his waist with one hand. “Is someone here? I heard a strange voice.”
“Who’s that?” Anthony asked, craning his neck as if that would help him see what was off camera. Idiot.
“It’s my roommate. He just got out of the shower.”
“Oh, yeah? Turn the camera and let me see.”
I rolled my eyes. “Anthony…”
“Come on, man. Introduce me. I want to meet your roommate.”
“Fine.” I beckoned Steve over to the desk so that we could all be seen at once. “Anthony, this is my roommate, Steve. Steve… Anthony.”
Of course, Steve went from wary to flirtatious the instant he caught sight of the half-naked guy on the screen. “Hi, Anthony. You look awfully comfy this evening.”
“And you look awfully clean.” Anthony glanced pointedly at the towel around Steve’s waist and waggled his eyebrows.
“Oh, brother,” I groaned.
“Hush.” Steve slapped me on the shoulder and gave Anthony his flirtiest laugh. “So how do you know Jamie?”
Anthony shrugged. “It’s a business thing. Jamie interviewed me for his blog.”
“Purely professional,” I said, instantly regretting my stupidity. I sounded like I was defending myself for no reason.
Steve raised a brow. “Professional, huh? Is this what the kids are wearing to the office these days?” With a flutter of a hand, he indicated Anthony’s decidedly unprofessional appearance on the screen.
The chuckle that came out of Anthony was rich and deep. Genuine. “We did the interview a while back. Jamie just called me to let me know it was live, and I asked him to show it to me on Skype. Jamie is brilliant. You should check it out.”
I hadn’t told Steve about the Rodriguez interview because I hadn’t wanted him to try to talk me out of it. Or worse, to give the secret away to Kage before it was published. Now that it was out there for the world to see, I figured I might as well show him. I sighed and gestured at the laptop screen.
Steve leaned over and started scrolling. He didn’t have time to read the article, but he damn sure looked at all the pictures. When he was done, he stood up straight and fanned himself theatrically. “I think I should go take another shower,” he said. “A cold one this time. Are you two trying to break into the porn business with those pictures?”
