Whatever the Cost (8 page)

“Yeah, well, he’d look good in a paper bag,” Jacen mumbles, being coy in a way that suggests whatever talk Liam just walked in on is one that might raise some eyebrows if the details became known.

“He isn’t grotesque, that’s for sure,” Yasha adds in agreement.

“Whatever. I’m, um—” He thumbs back over his shoulder before leaving; nearly jogging through the house and taking the steps two at a time just to get away that much faster.

Brushing his teeth five times in a row, washing the crap out of his hair, scrubbing his body with a loofah for twenty minutes before moisturizing and redressing in normal clothes, Liam takes his time in what he thinks of as the detox phase of his job. An hour and a half after leaving Yasha and Jacen, Liam descends the stairs once more in search of food and a comfortable chair.

Aggravatingly, Yasha is still there, talking quietly outside with Jacen, though now there are drinks in front of them both and a bowl of fresh cut vegetables. Trying to ignore them, Liam throws together a half-assed dinner out of leftovers and claims the recliner in the living room, turning on the news and zoning out.

Every now and then, he finds himself trying to make sense of the low murmuring filtering through the windowpane. Sometimes, when he turns to glance out back, he sees one of the two men nodding or otherwise gesturing toward the house, like they’re talking about Liam. It’s unsettling to say the least.
Probably your imagination
, Liam tells himself.
Or your arrogance. Thinking everything’s always gotta be about you.

He wonders how the meeting with Della went, and why exactly Yasha is there. Wanting to ask Jacen what’s going on, Liam tries to be patient. Not for the first time he laments the fact that he doesn’t have more good friends that aren’t in his line of work, to talk to about normal things, like the weather, sports, and politics. Even with as long as Liam has been in the service industry, he is sure that he’ll never get completely used to it, how everything becomes a lie, a game, a mind-fuck, a charade. It makes honesty, purity, directness become that much more cherished.

And there’s so little of that going around, it makes Liam nauseous.

His phone rings. Grumbling, he digs it out, sends up a little prayer that it’s nothing urgent, because fuck it, he’s tired and not in the mood.

It’s Della.

“Son of a
bitch
,” he complains, whining. Clearing his throat and letting his head fall back against the cushions, he answers. “Dee. What’s up, darlin’?”

“William, I’m going to be stopping by your place for an impromptu meeting with you. We’ve got some things to discuss and I’d rather handle it now than wait ’til tomorrow when I’ll be in the office again. You around? Will you be there?”

“Sure, I’ll be here,” he says cheerfully, rolling his eyes and making a face.
Not good. This does not bode well at all.

“Cool. Gimme twenty minutes.”

“No problem.”

Jacen picks up a carrot stick and drums it against the tabletop. Through one of the windows, mottled with shifting shadows from the palm trees and high bushes, he sees Liam, or at least the back of Liam’s head. Liam is sitting in front of the television, relaxing, as he should be.

Yasha, sipping spring water, follows Jacen’s gaze to the object of his thoughts. “You’re right that he’s not me. But he’s not so different either.”

Jacen frowns. The tap-tap-tapping begins to drive Yasha insane. The carrot stops beating its irregular rhythm when Jacen viciously snaps it in half.

“No one’s like you,” Jacen says. “Your perspective is... unique.”

“Thank you.”

“I mean, you and Val are like the definition of open-mindedness. This was a bad idea. Maybe there’s still time to call it off.”

“You’re not really naïve enough to believe that? That you can stop this now? Not even Liam can stop it. The arrangements have been made. Money is at stake. A lot of money. And guess who the collateral is?”

“Wow, Yash, you’re really making me feel better,” Jacen grumbles sourly.

“Oh, was that my job here? Sorry, I wasn’t clear on that. You want me to spit-shine your ass while we’re at it? Here I was, thinking we were having an actual exchange of thoughts and ideas.”

“You know what I mean,” Jacen sighs, biting the end off of a sprig of broccoli.

“Okay. You want me to tickle your balls for you? Here you go. What’s with your fucking attitude problem? You got your wish. You got a few of your wishes, if I’m not correct. Stop acting like a child.”

“This—” Jacen laughs maliciously, jabbing a finger at the house. “
This
is not my wish. This was never my
wish
.”

“It’s not exactly a punishment though, is it?” Yasha counters with a leading, crooked smile and a quick raise of his eyebrows, grabbing a cherry tomato and popping it in his mouth.

“Depends how you look at it,” Jacen says darkly, his eyes clouding over.

“Please,” Yasha scoffs. “There is no down-side here. This is the best possible outcome.”

“No,” Jacen argues, his voice getting lower, more resigned and forlorn. “No, it’s not.”

They sit in the dining room, directly across from each other in two of six chairs.

“You want a drink? We’ve got a bottle of vintage merlot open.”

“No, thanks,” Della smiles. “This’ll be quick. I have to be at Fourth and Main by six with a bright smile firmly in place and all of my wits intact.”

“New client?”

“Hopefully. If all goes as planned.”

“Great,” Liam says, settling into his chair. “So, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Well, Jacen and I spoke this morning and some things were brought to my attention,” she starts. Immediately Liam sits up straighter, focusing with laser-like precision on his boss.

“What did he say?”

“I’d rather not get into specifics. Confidentiality and all that. You understand. But it all boils down to this. You convinced Jacen that he needed to get himself out of what could become a dangerous situation. Jacen was able to persuade us that there were lingering... risks. The problem is, we’re talking about losing a major account. That needs to be compensated for.”

“So....”

“So, Spencer has been informed that The Company will no longer be able to service his particular needs,” Della says slowly, trailing some of the syllables out.

“Spencer.” Liam echoes. “What about Patrick?”

“Patrick was a one-time incident and he was very apologetic for what happened. We have been assured that it won’t happen again, that Jacen is very important to him, and the last thing he wants is for Jacen to be hurt.”

“Bullshit.” He sits forward, hands splayed on the polished oak, and roars, “That’s fucking
bullshit
!”

Della’s heart-shaped face is the picture of composure, framed with perfectly styled, thick, recently-dyed auburn curls, her hands primly folded in front of her. Clearing her throat, she waits to see if Liam has anything else to scream at her; when it seems he doesn’t, she continues. “I’m going to let that go, only because I know it’s out of concern for Jacen’s well-being that you are so disturbed. But that’s your only free pass, Will. Got it?”

His jaw clenching, Liam grits his teeth together to keep from letting out a tirade of obscenities and possibly face some seriously unpleasant repercussions.

“As I was saying, Spencer was a major account, but luckily we have found a way to balance the scales and, you know... fill the gap. Everyone walks away happy.”

“What the hell does this have to do with me? Are you just telling me this because I’m the one that told him to speak to you, or—”

“You have a new job. New client, for
you
anyway,” she says with a pristine, gleaming smile. A cold, hard, weight of dread settles in Liam’s gut. “Tomorrow night. I’ll message the location to you.”

“What are we talking about here? What kind of client? What’s the request?”

“The request is for a pretty boy. Nervous. Shy. Jock. Straight-acting.”

“And the client?”

“Not really important. Her name is Claudia. She’s been with us for a while, as you probably know.”

“What?” Fumbling for speech and a valid arguement, he can’t disguise the tremor in his voice. “You’re sending me to a... I don’t have female clients.”

“Don’t worry, sweetie. She just wants to watch. This time, at least.”

There’s a pause and Liam doesn’t want to ask. He really doesn’t. But he doesn’t have a choice, and from the look on her face, Della knows it.

“What does she want to watch?”

“You’re booked with another employee for this appointment. Jacen, to be specific. Jacen’s her pet. She just loves him to death, but she’s gotten this idea that she’d
really
like to see Jacen take control and have his way with another, very pretty, man, while she watches. And she’s willing to pay
handsomely
for it.” Della gives him a Cheshire cat grin at the thought of the cash rolling in, without even having to go fishing for a new client. It saves her work, time, expense, effort.

“No,” Liam says tightly, almost swallowing the word. “No. I won’t. No.”

Standing from the table, his legs don’t quite feel like they’ll support him. There are no windows overlooking the backyard in the dining room and he’s grateful for it. The cold pit in his gut grows huge and races upwards, lodging in his throat.

“Sweetie, you can’t say no,” she says soothingly to him, like the words aren’t laced with bile and threat.

“R-ryan. Get Ryan to do it.” Liam stammers. “Or—”

“Ryan’s on an overnight all weekend. He’s unavailable. Blake’s too gay. David’s too old. That leaves you. Claudia was very specific about what she wants. I intend to give it to her. Really, this should be a piece of cake. The character isn’t too much of a stretch for you, and there is no possibly unsavory client to service. You get to just lie there and let a hot guy—who’s not going to go all psycho on you—get you off. Not so bad, huh? A lot of people would
love
to be paid for something like that.”

Arguments, legitimate reasons why this is a horrendous idea hover at the edges of Liam’s mind, in sight but out of reach. He can feel in his bones, in his heart, that this is bad. It’s bad and nothing good will come of it. There’s not a single part of him that wants it.
Not this way, at least
, the small, secret voice of his conscience whispers. Sure, Della’s right in that there’s almost no work here, no real risk, except to his and Jacen’s friendship, which, of course, is of no concern at all to The Company.

It counts for nothing that he simply doesn’t want to do it. They have ways to make him comply if they have to—withholding payment; loading him up with more frequent appointments with clients that might not be to his liking at all, physically, sexually, psychologically; or even less pleasant recourses, things that veer further outside the law than they already are.

Some of this can already be seen in the way Jacen has been handled. The reason why Jacen has gotten more of the less savory clientele is because he’s the newbie. He gets to scrape the bottom of the barrel for the sludge that no one else wants. There could be another Spencer waiting in the wings, who doesn’t care what character Liam plays, just how brightly he screams. If Liam says no to this—sex with Jacen for Claudia’s pleasure—not only will he be faced with possibly nightmarish encounters for less pay than he’s used to, but Jacen will too. Liam’s efforts to get Jacen into a safer arrangement would be for nothing. They’d both suffer for it.