Before You
folder
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
57
Views:
20,059
Reviews:
556
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
57
Views:
20,059
Reviews:
556
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Thirty-four
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Four days later, Wainwright Carter arrived with a proposal to meet Alfredo Napolitano for a sit down. Nathan accepted and they set terms. Roth and Nathan made an executive decision Adam would not attend, for his own safety as much as the continued breathing of any guilty parties.
Adam rebelled mightily. Joseph walked up to him, poking a finger into the much bigger man’s chest. “You used up your allowance of drama running off to Chicago. Do as you’re told.”
Looking to Roth, Adam asked, “When did he get so lippy?”
They met at a coffee shop in business less than a month called Grounds Zero. The lawyer and a small, trim, and for all appearances, amiable middle-aged man waited at a table near the door. Roth had traveled with enough bodyguards to recognize the fact Nathan had put himself in charge of the job.
Carter and the unknown man rose, but did not offer to shake hands. The lawyer mad the introductions. “Nathan Rigley, Roth Garrett, Mr. Alfredo Napolitano.”
The man bearing that name unbuttoned the jacket of his suit, adjusted the legs of his expensive trousers before sitting. “Good of you gentlemen to meet with me. May I buy you a coffee?”
Roth declined for them both. “No, thank you. Let’s get down to business.”
The lawyer ordered two espressos, waited until the server departed. “You wished for straight dealings. Mr. Napolitano has obliged.”
Nathan open-fired. In a low tone, he gruffed, “Good of him given he owes us the lives of several of his boys.”
Napolitano chuckled, his manner mild and composed. “I was told to expect a certain amount of animosity.”
Roth returned, “What do you want from Adam?”
“You’re the lover,” Napolitano commented conversationally.
“Yes, and you’ve fucked with the wrong family.”
His blunt response seemed to amuse the other man. “So Wainwright continues to caution me.”
“Mr. Na - ”
The man in charge held up his hand for silence. “These are men who understand the world, and we all seek the same thing.”
“Which is?” Nathan had a way of speaking that would make most men hide.
“Security.” Napolitano thanked the server very kindly as she returned with their beverages. Sipping his, he went on, “You, for Mr. Taggart. Myself, for my business interests.”
Roth queried, “What do you require from us?”
“Mr. Taggart’s father amassed a considerable amount of information we’d rather remain our own. We believe he hid those records somewhere and I would happily pay Mr. Taggart very well for their delivery into my hands. Along with a guarantee the unsettling findings will never see daylight.” Tasting his espresso again, he added, “This of course with my word he need never concern himself over any further interest from my people.”
Nathan leaned forward, bracing his bent elbows upon the table. Every line of his body, expression and the timbre of his voice shouted he’d love to reach across the table and throttle Napolitano without further ado. “We’ll have to consult with Mr. Taggart. Given the personal nature of this matter and his lack of possession of the proposed intel, we may have to travel and make inquiries.”
“Of course,” Napolitano rose, re-buttoning the jacket of his suit. “I will advise my people of this and we shall speak again in, shall we say, two weeks?”
Nathan nodded. “In case of a snag, may we have a contact number?”
“Certainly. Mr. Carter shall provide that for you. Good afternoon, gentlemen.”
After the other men departed, Nathan stood. “That’s the coldest bastard I ever encountered, Roth. We have a problem.”
They convened a council that evening. Adam listened and waited until Nathan turned his attention upon him. “I have little memory of my family’s estate settling. The insurance policies went into an account I’ve never touched. When Bradley died, he left me the cabin, shared rights to the fish camp we stayed at a few weeks each summer and the key to a safety deposit box.”
“Contents?” Nathan approached things like a bulldozer.
“A dime and a fishing lure.” Adam pulled Roth to his side, kissing his cheek before continuing. “At the time, I had no clue what to make of it. My work kept me on the move.”
They booked four tickets to Denver. Nathan rented a car and they drove to Bradley’s cabin. Left untended for so long, it looked very sad. Adam produced a key, plied it and they entered.
Joseph sneezed. “Dust alert.”
Roth saw the environment that nurtured his lover. Rugged and simple, it spoke volumes. A simple life of family and outdoor sport.
Following three hours of dissection, Nathan growled, “No good. Let’s hit the fish camp.”
Roth held Adam’s hand as they pulled alongside the rustic dwelling beside a wide, rushing creek.
“We always fly fished here,” Adam volunteered, voice betraying more emotion than before.
Nathan headed a search, bending low. “Pay dirt,” he rumbled. “Here’s a dime wedged between sheets of paneling with the same date as the one in the SD box. It coincides with Adam’s dad’s DOB.” He stood straight. “I say we pull this shit out and see what’s behind.”
Four days later, Wainwright Carter arrived with a proposal to meet Alfredo Napolitano for a sit down. Nathan accepted and they set terms. Roth and Nathan made an executive decision Adam would not attend, for his own safety as much as the continued breathing of any guilty parties.
Adam rebelled mightily. Joseph walked up to him, poking a finger into the much bigger man’s chest. “You used up your allowance of drama running off to Chicago. Do as you’re told.”
Looking to Roth, Adam asked, “When did he get so lippy?”
They met at a coffee shop in business less than a month called Grounds Zero. The lawyer and a small, trim, and for all appearances, amiable middle-aged man waited at a table near the door. Roth had traveled with enough bodyguards to recognize the fact Nathan had put himself in charge of the job.
Carter and the unknown man rose, but did not offer to shake hands. The lawyer mad the introductions. “Nathan Rigley, Roth Garrett, Mr. Alfredo Napolitano.”
The man bearing that name unbuttoned the jacket of his suit, adjusted the legs of his expensive trousers before sitting. “Good of you gentlemen to meet with me. May I buy you a coffee?”
Roth declined for them both. “No, thank you. Let’s get down to business.”
The lawyer ordered two espressos, waited until the server departed. “You wished for straight dealings. Mr. Napolitano has obliged.”
Nathan open-fired. In a low tone, he gruffed, “Good of him given he owes us the lives of several of his boys.”
Napolitano chuckled, his manner mild and composed. “I was told to expect a certain amount of animosity.”
Roth returned, “What do you want from Adam?”
“You’re the lover,” Napolitano commented conversationally.
“Yes, and you’ve fucked with the wrong family.”
His blunt response seemed to amuse the other man. “So Wainwright continues to caution me.”
“Mr. Na - ”
The man in charge held up his hand for silence. “These are men who understand the world, and we all seek the same thing.”
“Which is?” Nathan had a way of speaking that would make most men hide.
“Security.” Napolitano thanked the server very kindly as she returned with their beverages. Sipping his, he went on, “You, for Mr. Taggart. Myself, for my business interests.”
Roth queried, “What do you require from us?”
“Mr. Taggart’s father amassed a considerable amount of information we’d rather remain our own. We believe he hid those records somewhere and I would happily pay Mr. Taggart very well for their delivery into my hands. Along with a guarantee the unsettling findings will never see daylight.” Tasting his espresso again, he added, “This of course with my word he need never concern himself over any further interest from my people.”
Nathan leaned forward, bracing his bent elbows upon the table. Every line of his body, expression and the timbre of his voice shouted he’d love to reach across the table and throttle Napolitano without further ado. “We’ll have to consult with Mr. Taggart. Given the personal nature of this matter and his lack of possession of the proposed intel, we may have to travel and make inquiries.”
“Of course,” Napolitano rose, re-buttoning the jacket of his suit. “I will advise my people of this and we shall speak again in, shall we say, two weeks?”
Nathan nodded. “In case of a snag, may we have a contact number?”
“Certainly. Mr. Carter shall provide that for you. Good afternoon, gentlemen.”
After the other men departed, Nathan stood. “That’s the coldest bastard I ever encountered, Roth. We have a problem.”
They convened a council that evening. Adam listened and waited until Nathan turned his attention upon him. “I have little memory of my family’s estate settling. The insurance policies went into an account I’ve never touched. When Bradley died, he left me the cabin, shared rights to the fish camp we stayed at a few weeks each summer and the key to a safety deposit box.”
“Contents?” Nathan approached things like a bulldozer.
“A dime and a fishing lure.” Adam pulled Roth to his side, kissing his cheek before continuing. “At the time, I had no clue what to make of it. My work kept me on the move.”
They booked four tickets to Denver. Nathan rented a car and they drove to Bradley’s cabin. Left untended for so long, it looked very sad. Adam produced a key, plied it and they entered.
Joseph sneezed. “Dust alert.”
Roth saw the environment that nurtured his lover. Rugged and simple, it spoke volumes. A simple life of family and outdoor sport.
Following three hours of dissection, Nathan growled, “No good. Let’s hit the fish camp.”
Roth held Adam’s hand as they pulled alongside the rustic dwelling beside a wide, rushing creek.
“We always fly fished here,” Adam volunteered, voice betraying more emotion than before.
Nathan headed a search, bending low. “Pay dirt,” he rumbled. “Here’s a dime wedged between sheets of paneling with the same date as the one in the SD box. It coincides with Adam’s dad’s DOB.” He stood straight. “I say we pull this shit out and see what’s behind.”