Dying Assassin (4 page)

CHAPTER 3

"We just got done with the security footage from the shipping company," Deputy Wilcowski told me over the phone a few days later. It ended up the package was traced to a 'pack and ship' store back in New York. The guy paid in cash and didn't put a return address on any of the forms.

"You guys get anything?" I asked, pretty sure I already knew the answer.

"No, we couldn't get enough facial features to make a positive ID," the deputy sighed. "He was wearing a ball cap and knew where the cameras were. We're going through footage from traffic cams from the same time, trying to get the guy walking into the store."

"I appreciate all the work you guys are putting into this," I replied, wiping a hand over my face in frustration.

"I gotta ask, Spencer. I know you said you didn't know why someone would want to kill you," he said gently. "But we pulled your background, and I can think of billions of reasons why someone might want you dead. Any chance you changed something with your company recently? Or who's in charge of it?"

"No, I've left that all alone…" I answered, stopping when a thought hit me. "Fuck!"

"Want to share?" Wilcowski chuckled in the phone.

"I sent my attorney a rough draft of my changed will," I grumbled. "I'm changing the beneficiaries to my partners instead of my trustee who runs the company."

"Would he have seen these changes?"

"Yeah, because if I die, he's not running the company anymore either. Ryder, Dean, and Luc would or choose someone they wanted to run it."

"So if you die before these changes go through, this guy gets everything?" The deputy asked, then let out a long whistle. "I'd say that's some pretty sweet motive there."

"I'm realizing that," I snickered. "His name is Greg Payton. He's been running the company for over ten years; I mean, he's always been a good guy to me."

"Things change, Spencer," he replied softly. "I'll dig into this guy and get back to you, but he seems like the only candidate to want you dead."

"I don't think I've pissed anyone else off," I chuckled. I thanked him again, and the deputy said he'd be in touch before we hung up. Next I had to go fill my men in on all of this. Grabbing the file folders with my new will and the surprise I had for Ryder, I headed out of my office to go find them.

"How are you feeling?" Luc asked, glancing up from the textbook he was studying from when I entered the living room.

"Physically? I'm fine, mentally not so much," I answered honestly. "I need to talk with everyone, can you take a break?"

"Sure, Spence," he replied, closing the book and coming over to me. Luc threw his arms around my neck and kissed me passionately.

"What was that for?" I panted when he pulled away.

"I don't like it when you frown," Luc said, smiling widely. "Getting kissed always makes you smile."

"And hard," I snickered as I smacked his firm ass.

"Be nice, I'm still walking funny." He winked at me as he took my hand and led us into the kitchen. Dean and Ryder were sitting at the table laughing while eating a snack.

"I need to talk to everyone," I said as Luc and I sat down. "I just got off the phone with Deputy Wilcowski, and we think we figured out why someone would want me dead."

"It's that guy who's in charge of everything, isn't it?" Ryder growled, narrowing his eyes at me. "But why now?"

"Because I'm changing my will," I answered, glancing from one to the other of my men. I passed them each one of the folders, holding back what I had special for Ryder. "I sent the changes over to my attorney a couple of weeks ago, but we've been so busy I've not discussed it with you guys yet."

"Spencer," Dean whispered, as he read the document in front of him. "Are you nuts? You can't leave all of this to us!"

"I'm immortal," I replied, shrugging. "But if something does happen to me, I want the people I love taken care of."

"You are not allowed to die, Spencer Fallon," Ryder exclaimed throwing the folder at the table before standing and stalking over to me. He grabbed my chair and pulled it out before straddling my lap. Ryder took my face in his hands. "You cannot ever leave me, Spence. I wouldn't make it without you."

"Oh, Ryder," I whispered and hugged him fiercely. "I'm not going anywhere, baby. This is just a precautionary thing, I promise."

"Fine, but if you die, I will find some witch to curse you into haunting us forever," Ryder replied, sticking out his lower lip. I chuckled as I leaned forward and nipped it quickly. "Or some way to make you a zombie that doesn't eat brains."

"Alright, no more late night horror movies for Ryder," Luc snickered before getting serious. "Is this what you really want, Spencer?"

"Yeah, I would feel better knowing you were taken care of," I answered, quick to finish when I saw the evil look Ryder was giving me. "But I'm not going anywhere, so really it's just a formality. And I have something else for Ryder."

"Me?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at me as he wiggled his hips on my lap. "Should I get naked now or are we relocating before you fuck me?"

"Dirty, dirty hot man." I hissed as my cock got hard. "No, it's not about sex. Remember when we moved here and you were talking about maybe continuing with school after you get your GED?"

"Of course, I wanted to know what degree would be best to help me know how to run or work for a charity organization," he replied, his eyebrows drawing together.

"Well, we're in the last quarter of the year and this is normally when I start figuring out what charities to donate some of the company's profits to," I explained, smiling at him like a loon. "I thought maybe you'd like to get your feet wet in that charity work and help me figure out where to donate it."

"You trust me to do that?" Ryder gasped, his eyes going wide like saucers. "Spencer, I don't know anything about this stuff."

"We've got a couple of months to decide," I replied gently. "It's only the beginning of October; I have until the end of December to donate so it counts for this year's taxes. You can do some research in between your studies, figure out which ones you like and tell me. Then I can run them past my business manager, he can dig and check out their financials, make sure they're all legit and what not."

"Are you sure I can do this?" Ryder asked, as he started fidgeting and pulling on my shirt. "I don't want to screw this up."

"You won't be doing this alone, baby," I answered. Running my hands up and down his back and shoulders to comfort his nerves, I continued. "You can ask me any questions you want; we can even research some of them together. But I'd like you to help me with this."

"I love you," he whispered against my lips before kissing me. "Thank you for trusting me."

"I've always had faith in you, Ryder," I said firmly, staring into his eyes. "I don't just love you for your hot little body and dirty mind. You're compassionate, caring, creative, smart, and loving. You're the first person that came to mind when I thought of who I could get to help me figure out where to donate."

"You're just saying that to get into my pants." Ryder sniffled, always unable to take a compliment.

"I can get in your pants and ass anytime I want," I replied, holding his head in my hands so he couldn't look away. "I'm telling you the truth. You don't see yourself as the rest of us you. You are an amazing man we all love more than ourselves. I love you, Luc, and Dean all the same, but you are the glue that makes us a family. We'd be nothing without you, baby."

"I can ask you whatever questions I want, even if they're totally stupid?" Ryder asked, searching my face. "I don't want to make a mistake."

"I think the only stupid question you ever ask me is if I'm in the mood for sex." I snickered as I ran my hands over his firm ass. I leaned in and hissed in his ear, "I'm always in the mood for you."

"Okay, I'll do it," he said, rubbing his groin over mine. "As long as I get to have naked lunches with the boss while he fucks me in his office."

"Dirty, dirty hot man," I said again, laughing when he winked at me. "Promise me you won't freak out when you see how much I'm donating, okay?"

"I'll try," he replied, raising an eyebrow at me.

I reached behind him and grabbed the yearly reports where I'd figured out how much I could donate this year. Handing it to him, Ryder's mouth dropped open as his eyes darted from me to the sheet of paper.

"You want me in charge of this?" Ryder gasped. He went pale as he looked at me again before his eyes rolled back in his head and he fainted in my arms.

"That much, huh?" Luc snickered as I leaned Ryder against my chest. "I think you picked the right person to help, Spence."

"You guys aren't mad?" I asked, glancing at them.

"Not at all," Dean answered, smiling widely. "I agree with you, Ryder doesn't see his own value. I think it's a fantastic idea to help him start seeing himself as more than his previous profession."

"I concur," Luc said nodding. "And I agree that he's the glue that makes us a family."

"Can I ask how much he's going to be donating?" Dean asked, looking uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, but I'm dying of curiosity here."

"Me too," Luc added. I chuckled as I slid the piece of paper across the table at them. They both stared at it, mouths hanging open. "Seventy four million dollars? Yeah, I'd pass out too if I was in charge of that."

"Do I have to donate it to an existing charity?" Ryder asked as he came around.

"What do you mean, baby?"

"With that kind of money, we could start our own charity, Spencer," he answered, sitting up and looking at me.

"Honey, you still look pretty pale," I said carefully, confused as to what he was saying and worried about him. "We don't have to talk about this right now."

"I want to," Ryder replied. "I wanted to get into charity work to help people who were in the same situation I was. Gay men or women whose families don't accept them and leave them to fend for themselves on the street. What if we could start a foundation to help them?"

"I think that is a fantastic idea," I answered, my heart full of pride for the man I love. "How would you want to go about it?"

"I have no friggin' clue," he giggled. "I mean, existing charities are great, but maybe we could do more on our own. Does that make sense?"

"Smart and hot. How did I ever get so lucky?" I asked, my hands roaming his body.

"You saw more in me than a common street whore," Ryder replied quietly. "For some crazy reason, you believe in me and it's why I love you so fucking much."

"I saw, and still see, a gorgeous, tender man who was put in a horrible position and who wanted to get away from it. All I did was help you do that, you did everything else, Ryder," I said honestly, staring into his eyes.

"Make love to me, Spencer," he said, running his fingers through my hair. "I need you so badly right now."

"We'll be back," I said to Luc and Dean as I flew out of my seat. Ryder wrapped his arms and legs around me as I raced up to our room. I had just laid him down on the bed and pulled off my shirt when the doorbell rang. We shared a horrified look, both of us hoping it wasn't another package, then raced towards the front door.

"What do you want with, Spencer?" Dean growled as he picked the small man up by the shirt. "Are you the follow-up for the bomb?"

"Bomb! What bomb?" he squeaked as he held onto Dean's forearms. Ryder and I ran down the stairs and joined them in the foyer. "Mr. Payton sent me to speak with Mr. Fallon about a few business things."

"Like what?" I asked as I put my hand on Dean's shoulder. When I got that close to them, the smell of death filled my nostrils so severely I wanted to gag. "Dean, let him go, he's sick."

"How did you know?" The man gasped, growing even paler as Dean lowered him to his feet.

"You have all the physical markers," I answered quickly, realizing I'd given away too much. "What do you have, six months?"

"Three," the man whispered, tears forming in his eyes. "I have stage four, incurable lymphoma."

"I'm sorry," I said honestly. "I'm Spencer, these are my partners Dean and Ryder."

"Ethan Beckham," he replied, extending his hand, which I shook. "May we speak in private?"

"No," Dean growled, looming over the much smaller man. Ethan couldn't be more than five-four and a hundred twenty pounds dripping wet. But he was breathtaking. His features were so delicate and alluring, I had trouble not staring. He had ear-length, jet black hair and eyes so light blue they almost looked lavender.

"I don't keep anything from my partners, Ethan," I answered. "Plus, I don't think Dean trusts you."

"Okay, well, Mr. Payton had some concerns about the changes to your will," Ethan said, his eyes darting around.

"I'll just bet he did." Ryder snorted from behind me. "Fucking bastard."

"Let's take this conversation into the living room," I said, feeling as if I would need to sit down for this one. Ryder led the way as Dean pulled up the rear. Once we were all seated, Ethan opened his briefcase and handed me a few papers.

"Mr. Payton understands your desire to change the will so your partners are benefactors," Ethan explained then cleared his throat. "The only changes he had issue with were who runs the company if you should die. None of your partners have the skill set or education to run a multi-billion conglomerate. Mr. Payton would like to suggest that instead they are allowed to name a trustee in their place as long as the board approves their candidate."

"That sounds reasonable," Ryder said, glancing at me.

"It sounds like Payton's trying to cover his ass since the bomb didn't kill you," Dean replied. I looked at him; surprise must have been written all over my face, because he continued. "You didn't die, Spencer. He's scrambling to make it seem as if he doesn't have a problem with the will, just a few suggestions so that the focus is off of him."

"I really do love smart men," I purred, rubbing his thigh as I leaned in to kiss him.

"Wow," Ethan gasped, getting our attention again. "Sorry, didn't mean to say that out loud."

"You have a problem with us kissing in our own home?" Dean asked, raising an eyebrow.