Confessions (3 page)

“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.”