Christ on a crutch.
Dorian Michael James knew the gun deal he had been working on for the last two months had just gone to shit when he opened the trunk of the car and found himself staring at the softest honey brown eyes he had ever seen. They were red rimmed and filled with tears.
"Who's the kid?" he asked as he took in the discolored skin around the kid's wrists, no doubt due to the ropes tying his hands behind his back. His ankles were similarly tied and he had a gag in his mouth. He was not here willingly unless he was into some really kinky shit.
"His old man owed us some money," replied the guy standing next to Dorian. "He gave us the kid in trade."
Dorian already knew that the man standing next to him was the scum of the earth. He was a gun runner and drug dealer with a rap sheet longer than Dorian's arm. He had arrests from everything from assault to rape to attempted murder. Taking some kid in exchange for drug money owed him wouldn't even be a blip on the guy's radar.
Dorian turned his cold eyes on the slime ball next to him. "You brought a kid to a buy?"
For a moment, fear flashed in the other man's eyes. "It's not like he's gonna be a problem, Michaels. He's tied up."
"He's here. That's a problem."
"Deal's off." Dorian slammed the lid down on the Pontiac, already plotting as to how he could save the kid even as he turned to head back to his motorcycle. If he could get away from prying eyes, he could call in an anonymous tip and maybe have the cops save the kid.
"Hey, look, this guy ain't gonna be a problem, "Jazz Jenkins called out to Dorian's retreating back. "Me and the boys were just gonna have a little fun with him and then get rid of him, dump his body in the East River."
Dorian could barely keep his disgust out of his voice. The idiot was detailing a cold blooded murder. Dorian wanted to wrap his fist around the moron's throat and slam him into a wall while informing him of how much of an asshole he was. He just couldn't. He needed to see if he could save the kid while salvaging his gun deal.
He needed those guns.
"I don't like complications, Jazz." Dorian made sure to put every ounce of anger he had into his voice. He slowly turned and glared at the man. "Get rid of the kid."
Jazz's eyebrows shot up. "Now?"
Dorian pulled his pistol out of his shoulder holster and walked back to the car. He flipped the lid open and stared down into those frightened honey brown eyes again. The pull to continue standing there and just stare at the guy was overwhelming.
His grip tightened on the butt of his gun as he tried not to raise the barrel and point it at Jazz. Instead, he held the gun out to the man. "Get rid of the kid or the deals off."
"But—" Jazz glanced down at the man in the trunk, a small shudder working through his slim frame.
Dorian knew he had pegged Jazz right. The man wanted to play with the kid in the trunk. He didn't want to kill him. He might order one of his lackeys to do it, but Jazz Jenkins was too much of a wimp to ever pull the trigger himself.
"Fine, if you won't do it…" Dorian cocked the gun and then pointed it at the kid. Those soulful eyes widened, filling with more tears. This time, the big drops slid down his pale cheeks. Dorian made a big show of pausing and tilting his head to the side. "How old is this kid?"
"Old enough," Jazz snickered. His grin was lecherous and made Dorian's stomach roll. He seriously doubted Jazz ever cared about someone's age.
Dorian stared for another moment before slipping his gun back into the holster and then reaching into the trunk to lift the kid out. "Bear!" he called out to his second in command. "Come get this kid."
"Hey," Jazz said, "what are you doing?"
"Taking the kid."
"But you don't play with…I mean, you're a biker and…"
The and was obvious. Dorian rolled his eyes as he handed the bound kid to Bear. "A hole is a hole, dumb-ass. Shove their face in a pillow and he'll look like any other bitch on the planet."
Jazz's eyes followed after Bear as he carried the kid back over to their bikes. "He's a real pretty one."
"He won't be after I get done with him." Dorian snorted snidely as he crossed his arms. "Now, are we going to do this deal or not? Because if not, I have a bitch to fuck."
"Yeah, yeah." It seemed like almost more than Jazz could handle to turn away from Bear and the kid and back to face Dorian. "You got the money?"
Dorian cocked an eyebrow. "You got the merchandise?"
The exchange went fairly smoothly after that, barring how many times Jazz's eyes strayed to Bear and the kid. Dorian began to wonder if he was going to have problems with Jazz. The man seemed way to obsessed with the kid, more than someone should be even if he took the kid in trade for money owed him. Dorian couldn't help but wonder if there was more to the story than he knew.
"Hey, I think maybe I should take the kid with me."