Desperate Enemies 3 (21 page)

Troy's body crashed against Danvers and the two men went down, a struggle ensuing. George looked on in horror as his son and his one-time lover battled for the gun. “Get off me you damn brat,” Danvers cried out, a sudden surge of power coursing through him. He threw Troy over, quickly lifted himself to the ground. Then he pointed the gun straight at Rose and said, “Die, you bitch, I did it once, I'll do it again,” he said and pulled the trigger. The gun exploded in the dark night and suddenly the candle was doused, the group thrown into total darkness. Only a cry in the night could be heard, chilling them all.

Marc couldn't believe all he'd witnessed.

Ten years ago Elissa Saunders had been murdered in cold blood.

Tonight, she'd been killed again.

* * * *

When the lights were turned back on, there was no blood to be found anywhere, not on the walls or on the floor, there was no dead body. There was also no sign of Danvers Converse.

Rich North's heart was still pounding, even though he'd known it was all a fake. The gun had been fake, the bullets blank, Rose's performance as eerily perfect as it could have been. The truth of that night was out, finally. As nervous chatter erupted in the room, Rich helped Parker get George Saunders back into his wheelchair, all while Rose attended to the old man to ensure he had not severely injured himself. He appeared none the worse for wear, except for a swelling bruise on his arm from when he fell. Yet he had retreated back inside his own private world, perhaps the memory of all those years ago being dragged up was too much for his mind. Drool slipped out of his mouth; George Saunders, the man, was gone.

But it was Troy, still on the ground, who was panting heavily, tears streaming down his cheeks. “All this time, they told me I did it. . . they told me I shot my mother,” he said, “My God, my own family, how deep is their betrayal. . .?”

Rich watched as Paolo went to the young Saunders heir, holding him. He knew the two of them had been intimate, Paolo had admitted as such, but from where Rich stood there was more to these two men than just the physical. Perhaps Paolo had found someone to move on with.

As the situation at Number Two settled down, it was Edgar who stood up and said, “Ok, can anyone explain what we've just seen? I mean, what does this all this mean for us, why were we here?”

Rose took center stage, then said, “Boys—Parker, Rich, you want to tell the group?”

Rich and Parker flanked her, both of them staring at the wide eyes of their neighbors.

“It was time to push the envelope,” Rich said, “and the only way to get the answers was for me and Parker to work together. To put aside our differences for the common good. I called him this morning, after Jack and I had gone to see old man Saunders. We got George talking, told him all that Danvers had been doing, how the Eldon Court that had been established by his ancestors—namely Drew Saunders—was in jeopardy. I'm not sure what did it, but George seemed lucid, and he confessed that he'd done something terrible and for the past ten years he'd been living with it, the memories trapped inside his mind. Elissa Saunders was killed—shot—years ago, her body buried in secret. No one ever questioned her disappearance, both George and Danvers were powerful men then and they both claimed Elissa had left town, taking young Troy with her. In fact, Troy was squirreled away at Danvers's home down the coast, living there in near isolation.”

“They said I did it,” Troy said. “They held it over my heads all these years. They let me believe I killed my own mother.”

“When in fact,” Rich continued, “it was Danvers who killed her, and not in self-defense.”

“Parker, dear. . .” Rose said, turning to her son. “I'm sorry. . . but I warned you.”

“Warned him about what?”

Parker shook his head, pushing her away. “Danvers Converse promised me the Saunders estate after George died—everything, his money, and this house, the Bayside, telling me I was the only rightful heir, and that if Troy tried to stop it his secret would be revealed, that he was a murderer and would be up away for life for the crime. If he had no rightful claim to the estate, I, Parker St. John, could finally claim my heritage.”

“But Danvers, of course, knew the truth,” Rich said, “and he manipulated Parker.”

“So, you are my brother?” Troy asked.

“Brother, ha” Parker spat, his words angry. “I've got nothing; I'm just a bastard child. I can claim nothing; I've lost it all. I lost my self-respect, I lost out on everything. . . and everyone, I ever cared about. . . damn Danvers Converse. . . damn him all to hell. . .”

Parker started off toward the door, Rose calling out to him.

“Parker, no. . . come back, don't do anything foolish,” she said.

But it was too late, Parker was gone, his body fleeing down the street and disappearing into the darkness. His departure left the gang from Eldon Court weary, uncertain about what to do next.

“What next?” was indeed the next phrase to come out of Dane's mouth.

“Yeah, if Danvers Converse is a murderer and we can prove it, then isn't the threat over? We get to keep our homes, Eldon Court stays intact.”

“That's the problem,” Rich said, “Proving it. We know they buried Elissa, but where?”

“Somewhere on the property,” Edgar said, “that has to be why Parker was digging. The story about gold on our property was just a ruse. Can't we call in the police? We have probable cause, perhaps with testimony from Troy as to what happened that night. . .?”

“I'll do anything I can,” Troy said, “but they never told me where she was, said it was for my own good.”

“Nothing Danvers did was for your own good,” Paolo said.

“And to think, I thought he was protecting me all these years,” he said, gazing around at the house. “But now I'm home, I'm innocent, a burden lifted.”

“So it's not over yet,” Marc said, “Rich, what do we do?”

“All of you, stay put,” Rich said, grateful that Marc was talking to him, his eyes filled with wonder at all he'd helped accomplish today. The man he loved, the man whom just two days ago he'd found in the arms of another man, he had made a first overture toward him. And Rich did to him. “Marc, there's so much waiting for us. . . please, tell me you'll hear me out.”

“Only if you'll forgive me.”

Rich felt the bitter words hit him, swallowing them down but still not enjoying the taste. He said nothing, turning away from the group and heading out in the night, not unlike Parker had done.

“I don't know about the rest of you, but I could use a drink,” Edgar said.

“I couldn't agree more,” Rose said.

“Just not champagne,” Marc said.

“No, it's not yet time for bubbles,” Rose said.

* * * *

The Bayside Hotel was quiet on this night when Rich North arrived in the lobby. Just a couple patrons were inside the hotel bar, a lone guest walking through the lobby, heels clacking against the hard tiles. The man behind the reception desk was busy on the telephone and paid Rich no mind; good thing, Rich didn't want to be stopped or disturbed. He made his way down the corridor, where he came to Danvers Converse's office. He could hear the blare of the television from inside, a good indication that his quarry was present.

Rich was here to settle the score, no matter what he had to do.

Without knocking, he turned the knob and found it opened easily. A man like Converse, he was over-confident, cocksure, immune to anything in life. And why shouldn't he be? He held the power still, even if his secret was known to them all. He was a killer and he had escaped detection all these years. Rich had to find out where Elissa was buried, only then could they finally bring this entire episode to a close.

Danvers looked up from a bank of television screens on the wall, fumbling with the remote when he noticed his guest.

“What the hell. . .” Rich said, staring up at the images on the screens.

Six monitors, each of them displaying flesh upon flesh, men upon men. That's when Rich noticed that Danvers was naked, his withering body hairless and pale, and that his hand had been in his lap; jerking off his small dick to sexual videos just a short while after his greatest secret was revealed. What kind of sick perv was this guy?

“You're disgusting,” Rich said.

“Oh, contraire, look again,” Danvers said, nodding toward the screen. “Tell me who you see.”

That's when Rich realized these weren't just any movies, he could see himself on one of the screens. . . no, two of them, and in them he was having sex, one with Paolo, another with Aaron—the videos that Danvers had blackmailed them into making, he was watching them now. And not just Rich, there was a video of Parker and Russell Allen, the man who had worked for Danvers and taken a bullet for him. There was even a video of Rich and Marc, sucking one another off in the elevator. My God, that had been their first night in Wonderland, even before they had moved to Eldon Court. The remaining two screens were filled with other men, none of whom Rich recognized, but in each screen many of the men had one thing in common, big dicks and hairy bodies. All that Danvers lacked, it was what he most desired.

“Why, Danvers? Why did you do all this. . . to us?”

He spat at Rich. “What do you know of me?”

“I know that you once loved George Saunders,” he said.

“Yet no one wanted me to love him,” he said. “Not that bitch, Elissa. She wouldn't let him go; she wouldn't let him be with me.”

“And so you killed her?”

“And look what it got me,” he said, “George was empty after the incident, he'd lost all sexual desire and gradually, he just began to wither away. His mind and his body, gone. What had happened was too much for him. I lost it all.”

“You've been trying to fill the void ever since,” Rich said, “With men who remind you of George.”

“You come along, move onto Eldon Court just as I'm ready to make my move to reclaim it. Troy had come of age, George had begun to decline so much, they said it was only a matter of time before he died. . . and still I had nothing. I wanted to reclaim the land where he and I had fallen in love. . .”

“And in the process, destroy all of us.”

“What right did all you boys have to be happy?” he asked. “Society shunned me for loving men, why do you get a free pass to love who you want?”

“Times have changed; we have men like you to be grateful for,” he said. “Men like Drew Saunders and Gerald Green, who paved a difficult path so Marc and I, Edgar and Jack, Dane and Sawyer could be happy. It was supposed to be that way for Paolo and Aaron, but your sick plans to destroy our lifestyle ended up destroying Aaron's life.”

“I'll still do it,” he said. “The Wonderland Palaces will be a reality.”

“No, they won't,” Rich said. “It's only a matter of time before the authorities find Elissa's body, and with Troy now knowing what happened. . . it's over, Danvers. Admit defeat on the Wonderland Palaces and we'll make it all go away. No one will know what you did.”

“Like I would believe a word out of your mouth,” he said.

“On my honor,” Rich said, holding up his right arm.

“Honor? What does a man like you know of honor? You who have everything you ever wanted, but it's never enough. Look at you up there on those screens, all naked and writhing in ecstasy, you'd fuck anyone wouldn't you? Your lover, your neighbor, just so long as you get what you want.”

“So that makes us the same,” Rich said, “and yes, I'm guilty of fucking anyone, sure. Even my enemies.”

With that, Rich took a step forward, unbuttoning his shirt as he did so. One button, then another, exposing a triangle of flesh, of hair.

“What are you doing?”

“You said I'd fuck anyone, let's see if you're right,” he said, undoing the final button, slipping his shirt off his shoulders. Rich stood before his enemy, his heart pounding inside his chest. He saw Danvers lick his lips; there was no comparison, live was better than video, and Rich knew he held the upper hand. What he didn't know was whether he could go through with it, could this man, so unappealing, so repulsive in personality, really turn him on? Inside his pants his cock lay dormant, even the images on the screen were not enough to make him hard. But he had to, it was the only way, like Christine kissing the Phantom, he knew it was the only way to unlock the darkness with this tortured soul.

“Come to me, Danvers,” he said, “do what you want.”

Danvers moved hesitantly from around the desk, his naked self on full display, thin cock curved but hard. With tears in his eyes, he reached out, long fingers grazing at the dark hair on Rich's chest. Closing his eyes against the man's touch, Rich allowed the man his indulgence.

“Oh, oh,” Danvers said as he put both hands firmly upon Rich's chest, “so beautiful, so lusciously hairy, just like George. For too long I've wanted to. . .”

“Do it all, take what you want.”

Danvers looked at Rich, Rich not blinking. Then the man dropped to his knees, began to fumble with the zipper of his jeans. He stopped, turned back to his desk, where he pressed the play button the remote. Suddenly the room filled with moving images, with the sounds of sex. Rich looked up, watching as he thrust his cock deep inside Aaron, as Paolo sucked him, while Marc begged to be fucked all night long, each of them wanting more and more; he watched as his cock burst and he shot a load of come onto Paolo's face. He was transfixed by his own expression, amazed at the power conveyed on his face. He'd always felt his orgasms, but he never quite witnessed them, not like this.

He felt his cock finally harden. He wanted that release now, no matter from whom.

“Yes, Danvers, suck my big. . .”

A sudden noise caught Rich in mid-plea, and both he and Danvers turned to see the large frame of Parker St. John enter the room, quickly closing the door behind him.

“Rich, you don't have to do this,” Parker said.

“Parker, leave it alone, this is the only way to end this.”

“Then let me,” he said.

“What?”

“Just go, Rich. Get out of here. Go back to Marc.”

“But. . .”

“Just do it!”

Rich retreated quickly, seeing the fierce look inside Parker's darkened eyes. A shift had occurred inside Parker, he'd lost himself in his quest to find where he belonged. Grabbing his shirt, he made his way out, closing the door behind him, not even taking one last look back at Danvers Converse. Outside in the hallway, he hesitated, unsure if he should leave the man betrayed with the man who had betrayed him; but Parker was no killer, that's not why he had come here. He wanted to exact his own form of revenge on Danvers, and it began with a shift in the power balance between them. Just like Parker had done with him. He leaned his ear against the door, listened to the blare coming from the screens, then heard words, garbled at first, but then clearer.