You Do What You Have To - 25

 

 

Micky nodded. "What about people like the mail carrier or a deliveryman?"

 

"The mail box is on the post by the gate. It's the only thing not linked to the system, for obvious reasons. Before you ask, I'm careful when I open it. I rather like my hands attached to my body. And if I do get a delivery, which is rare, they know to call first to let me know they're coming because"—Robin grinned—"if they don't, Thor might eat them. Or at least that's the excuse I use."

 

"He probably could, too," Micky said, looking at Thor, who was standing in the doorway.

 

"Naw. He prefers steak to human."

 

"Do you actually let him roam outside?"

 

"Yep. He's as good as any motion sensor—which I turn off, except the ones at the top of the fence, when I let him out—and he's trained not to eat anything he finds out there."

 

"Someone could shoot him. Oh. Right. They'd have to climb the fence to do that."

 

"Yep. And if you didn't notice, there are no tall trees outside the fence. Just bushes between me and the nearest neighbor."

 

"You've thought of everything."

 

Robin smiled wryly. "I have to. No one should know this is where I live, but there's never a solid guarantee that's the case." He closed the panel to the security center, then the cabinet, asking, "Do you feel safer now?"

 

"I felt safe as soon as I saw Thor. No. Before that. When I figured out you actually meant it when you said you'd protect me."

 

"And I will, to the best of my abilities."

 

"Which I'm sure are considerable."

 

"No brag, but I like to think so." Robin turned off the laundry room light and they headed back upstairs.

 

"Night," Micky said, going toward his room. Then he stopped, saying with all the sincerity he could muster, as tired as he was, "Thank you for everything."

 

"You're welcome," Robin replied, smiling. "Get some sleep. In the morning we can decide what comes next."

 

"That works for me."

 

As he settled into bed, Micky wondered just what would come next.

 

You Do What You Have To – 24

 

"You're fucking crazy," Micky spat out. "Nothing's worth putting yourself through that, not matter how badly you want information."

 

"Tell that to the kids we might save if we can shut him down."

 

"You had to say that, didn't you?" Micky muttered.

 

"Yeah," Robin replied, "because it's true. And on that note, I'm going to take a shower and head to bed. Feel free to watch TV, or read, or whatever." He left the room very abruptly, heading upstairs with Thor right behind him.

 

I shouldn't have pushed. How he… How any of the people he works with do their job is not my business—as long as they get results. Still… Micky shivered. There's no way I could do it. I don't have the guts, the kind of nerve it takes to go undercover to deal with bastards like Darren and Mackenzie.

 

He heard the shower turn on and realized he was as tired as Robin seemed to be. So he got up, turned off the lights in the living room and went to get ready for bed. He put on sweatpants to sleep in and was debating taking a shower too, when there was a rap on his door.

 

When he opened it, Robin said, "Your turn."

 

Micky flinched, replying when Robin asked what was wrong, "The last time someone said that to me, they ended up getting shot while I was washing up."

 

"Not going to happen to me. This place it too secure."

 

"I'm sure Darren thought that as well."

 

"Come on. I'll show you," Robin replied, turning to walk down the hall. He was wearing pajama pants, and had a towel flung over his shoulder. For a second, Micky admired his lean but muscular back—until he saw fading lash marks on the uncovered shoulder. Micky resisted commenting, knowing it would do no good.

 

Robin turned to look at him, grinning. "You coming, or are you just going to stand there and admire the view."

 

"Well, it is a nice one," Micky retorted. Even if it is damaged.

 

"You're not so bad yourself. Do you work out?"

 

Micky snorted, catching up with him. "I walk a lot, since I don't own a car, but that's about it."

 

"Seems to do the job." Robin led the way down to the laundry room. Opening a cabinet door next to the stacked washer and dryer, he slid the back of it aside to reveal a control panel. "As I told you, the fence is monitored by motion sensors."

 

"Well, you didn't… Yeah, I guess you did," Micky said.

 

"Yep. It, as well as the perimeter of the house." Robin tapped the screen, which showed a top view of the area. "Anything breaches it, I get a signal on my phone, and if I'm home, I come down here to find out where. There's also the normal security system. It's armed, except when I enter or leave."

 

"Meaning I can't slip out while you're sleeping."

 

"Were you planning on it?"

 

"Maybe for a minute, when we first got here," Micky admitted.

 

"Well don't. I'd hate to shoot you, thinking you were an intruder."

 

You Do What You Have To - 23

 

 

Apparently getting what Micky didn't actually ask, Robin said, "Connect with Mackenzie in a way that makes him trust me? One of his men picked me up off the street, offering me food and shelter. That's how they get the kids they use."

 

"But you're not a kid," Micky pointed out.

 

"I can pass for seventeen, eighteen, when I put my mind to it, which I did."

 

Micky studied him and nodded. "It's the hair and your size. You said I was thin. You're bordering on anorexic."

 

Robin chuckled. "I've always been on the lean side. I used to hate it, until I got into the organization and learned how to use it to my advantage. No one expects me to be strong and…well, able to take care of myself."

 

"I sure didn't. When you grabbed me, I figured you had to be some burly thug until I saw you. Looks can be deceiving."  

 

"That's what keeps me alive."

 

"So you managed to catch Mackenzie's eye and he chose you for his… What? His harem?"

 

Robin grinned. "I'm not sure it's called a harem when it's men, but yeah."

 

"Now what happens? You can't go back there," Micky stated adamantly.

 

"Sure I can. He doesn't know I found you. No one does. You stay here and I go do my job."

 

"But you have the list. Can't you—I don't know—turn it over to your organization then pull out? If you go back, he'll keep…torturing you for his own pleasure." Micky frowned. "Unless you don't consider the pain as torture. Do you like what he does to you?"

 

"Fuck no!" Robin spat out before reiterating quietly, "No, I don't."

 

For a moment, the distress in Robin's eyes made Micky want to pull him into a tight embrace to let him know he understood, but he refrained. It's not my place to do that. He'd hate it if I did. Besides which, Thor might take umbrage. "I was only asking because I had to know what kind of man you are—if that makes sense."

 

"I suppose it does," Robin replied with a small smile. "Being hooked up with a pervert wouldn't make you feel any safer."

 

"Well…" Micky smiled slowly. "In the world we live in, we're both considered perverts by too many people."

 

Robin chuckled. "True enough." He yawned and stretched, the move resulting in the sleeves of his shirt pulling back.

 

Micky looked at Robin's wrists in dismay. "Is that…?" He took one of Robin's hands before the man could react. "He ties you up?"

 

Robin shrugged. "Part of the 'game', if you will."

 

"I won't. I don't. Damn it, Robin. What does the rest of you look like?"

 

Robin lifted an eyebrow, tugging his hand free of Micky's grip. "That's a pretty bad seduction line."

 

"I'm not…" Micky scowled.

 

"I know." Robin rubbed his eyes. "It's not as bad as you're thinking, so stop worrying."

You Do What You Have To - 22

 

 

"Would it be important enough for him to come after me to get it?"

 

"Possible, I suppose, but I doubt it." Robin examined each credit card then the license. Finally he returned his attention to the library card, running his thumbnail around the edge. "Got you," he exclaimed, carefully separating one edge to pull out a slip of paper. "Good hiding place for something this small."

 

"What is it?" Micky asked.

 

"A list of names."

 

"For?"

 

"This is just a guess, but I'd say they're people Mackenzie does business with. Probably ones he'd rather no one knew he knows, since he's supposed to be an upstanding businessman. For sure that's the case with two I recognize."

 

"And somehow Darren got the list."

 

"Yeah. There's one name checked off. I wonder if that's why Darren was at the bar the night you met him. When I was watching him, he kept scanning the customers. I guess he gave up and"—Robin grinned—"as a result, you got lucky."

 

"Lucky my ass," Micky muttered. "Why were you there anyway?"

 

"I'm friends with one of the bartenders and stopped by to say hello. I saw Darren and decided to stick around to see what he was up to."

 

"I wish…"

 

"Umm?"

 

Micky shook his head. "Nothing."

 

"Come on, spit it out."

 

"Since you were there, I wish you'd picked me up, not him. Then I wouldn't be in all this trouble."

 

Robin smiled, patting Micky's leg. "It might have been fun if we'd hooked up. Still, despite everything that's happened since, you going home with him netted us this in the end." He tapped the slip of paper.

 

"These aren't people you know about?"

 

"As I said, I recognize two of the names, but I haven't been around long enough to rate Mackenzie trusting me with info about his dealings with them or any of his other contacts. Getting close though, since I'm his favorite…toy…at the moment. But I haven't gotten there yet."

 

"Why would you? I mean, why would he tell you anything? He sounds like the kind of man who would only see you as a sex object and nothing more."

 

"Mackenzie likes to brag while he's…playing."

 

"Playing? That doesn't sound good."

 

Robin grimaced. "He's kinky."

 

"Like BDSM kinky?" Micky considered the good-looking man sitting across from him on the sofa and shuddered.

 

"Yeah," Robin replied, turning away from Micky's gaze.

 

"And you let him…?"

 

"Like I said earlier, I do what's necessary to get the information I need to shut down bastards like him."

 

"How did you…? Okay, none of my business."

 

You Do What You Have To - 21

 

 

"If you want to do laundry, there's a washer and dryer in the room behind the kitchen," Robin told him. "For now, let's fix something to eat. I don't know about you, but I'm starving."

 

"I could eat something. I haven't eaten since last night and it was just a sandwich."

 

"No wonder you're so thin," Robin commented as they returned to the kitchen, where he took the makings for burritos from the fridge. He oiled a frying pan, set it on the stove to heat, then tossed in the ground beef to brown. "Do you mind cutting the tomatoes and onions?"

 

"Not at all." When Robin put them on a cutting board and handed Micky a knife, he set to work.

 

"How spicy do you like things?" Robin asked, reaching down to pat Thor, who had followed them.

 

Micky grinned. "Hot enough to burn my taste buds."

 

"You got it."

 

Ten minutes later, they were rolling the ingredients, including beans and grated cheese, into large warm tortillas. Robin set the dining room table, then put the platter of burritos in the center of it, along with a bowl of hot salsa, while Micky poured glasses of milk. When they sat, Thor immediately lay down beside Robin's chair.

 

"So good," Micky moaned after taking a couple of bites of his first burrito, liberally doused with the salsa. He sucked in a breath, grabbing his milk. "So hot!"

 

Robin laughed. "Wuss. I thought you said you liked it that way." 

 

"I do, but damn. Did you make this?"

 

"Yep. My one claim to cooking fame. Poblano, Anaheim, jalapeno, and habanero peppers, tomatoes, garlic and onions, plus vinegar and a touch of mesquite liquid smoke."

 

Micky took another cautious bite and decided he liked it, although he went easier on the salsa this time. "It might destroy my taste buds, but it's worth it."

 

They finished the meal—and a gallon of milk—then after doing dishes, settled in the living room, with Thor again at his post by the fireplace.

 

Micky rapped a knuckle against his teeth, still sucking in breath to cool his mouth. Do I give him Darren's wallet? So far he's proved he doesn't plan on harming me. Well, other than killing any chance of my being able to taste food again. Micky chortled softly.

 

"What's funny?" Robin asked.

 

"Nothing really." Making the decision, Micky took the wallet from his pocket, handing it to Robin. "Trust is a two-way street. You told me your real name, and I believe you, so…"

 

"Thank you," Robin said sincerely. He opened it, laying the contents on the coffee table. "One fake driver's license, forty-three dollars in cash, a library card. A library card?"

 

"Yeah, I know. That's sorta weird."

 

"We'll get back to it. Three credit cards, all for Gary Freeman, and that's it." Robin picked up the laminated library card, studying it. "This could be some kind of ID to tell a cohort that he's legit. The number, maybe."

 

You Do What You Have To - 20

 

 

Micky walked over to lean against the kitchen counter. "Do you trust me enough to tell me your real last name?"

 

Robin looked at him for what seemed like ages, then nodded. "Bristow."

 

"At least it's not Hood," Micky replied, straight-faced, praying Robin wasn't lying to him.

 

Robin grinned. "Maybe I should use that next time. Not."

 

"Yeah. No sense telegraphing that you're the hero."

 

"Hardly a hero," Robin replied. "Just a guy trying to…" He shrugged.

 

"Help people who need it. That's not a bad thing."

 

"Nope. Come on. I'll show you the rest of the place." He opened the kitchen door, holding up one hand to let Micky know to wait. Micky found out why a second later when a big dog came galloping over to greet Robin. Then it stopped in its tracks, growling low.

 

"Micky, meet Thor. He's my secondary security system. Thor, sit. Micky's a friend."

 

The dog did, never taking its gaze off Micky.

 

"What the hell is he?" Micky asked, afraid to move, despite what Robin has said to the dog.

 

"A Beauceron. They're extremely intelligent and bred to be guard dogs. They're also friendly, once they get to know you. "

 

"I hope he gets to know me real fast," Micky said, trying to keep the fear out of his voice.

 

"He will." Robin took hold of Thor's collar. "Hold out your hand, Micky."

 

Micky did, slowly. Thor sniffed it then looked up at Robin.

 

"Friend," Robin said. "So be nice."

 

Turning back to Micky, the dog looked him over, then lapped his fingers. Tentatively, Micky petted him. The dog leaned into it for a moment before he pulled away, then disappeared into what Micky presumed was the living room.

 

Micky followed Robin, past the stairs to the second floor, into the dining room. The living room was through an arch to their left.

 

"Nice," Micky commented, stepping into the living room. "Cozy." He watched to make certain Thor didn't jump up from where he was sprawled in front of the fireplace.

 

"Thanks. I almost bought a leather sofa, then decided comfort trumped macho and went with that one. It's long enough to sprawl out on."

 

"And the blue goes well with the walls." Micky chuckled. "The infamous gay designer gene coming out?" He figured Robin had to be gay, since he was this Mackenzie's boy toy, as he put it.

 

Robin flipped him off then took him upstairs. There was a short hallway with doors opening onto—thankfully, in Micky's opinion—two bedrooms. Between them was a well-appointed bathroom.

 

"This will be yours," Robin said when they were in the smaller bedroom.

 

With a nod, still uncertain if this was a good idea, Micky dropped his backpack on the double-bed.

 

 

 

You Do What You Have To - 19

 

Robin started the car, pulled out of the parking space and headed toward Colorado Boulevard, turning left when they got there. By then, Micky had eased up into a normal sitting position, wondering exactly where they were heading. When Robin went west to Broadway, then south again until they crossed into Englewood, Micky finally asked.

 

"To a very safe house," Robin told him.

 

"Way out here?"

 

"Yep. As secure as they come, plus only a few people know about it—and it's comfortable."

 

A few minutes later, Robin turned into a cul-de-sac, drove to the end where there was a small house surrounded by a tall cedar fence. First opening the solid gate in the fence then the door to the attached garage—each one with a remote—Robin pulled the car in and parked.

 

"Welcome to your home away from home."

 

"Think the fence it tall enough?" Micky asked with a slight grin as he got out of the car. 

 

"Yep. Keeps the place private, just the way I like it. And it's monitored by cameras and motion detectors. No one gets over, under, or around it without my knowing."

 

Micky looked at him, cocking his head in question. "Tell me this isn't your house."

 

"Not on paper," Robin replied with a wink, as he unlocked the door from the garage to the house and stepped inside, pausing momentarily, it appeared, to disarm a security box.

 

"Now just a damned second. You said you were taking me to a safe house."

 

"No, what I said was, I was taking you to a house that was safe. This be it." He beckoned, asking, "Are you going to stand there all night?"

 

"I might. I don't like being played, Robin."

 

"I wasn't playing you. But I knew if I told you the house was mine, you'd tell me to get lost."

 

"I still might. Or I would if I knew how to get the hell from here back to the city." Micky sighed. "No, I wouldn't." Looking squarely at Robin, he said, "Who does own it?"

 

"The organization I work for, but with layers between them and the name on the title, which is Leonard Nichols." Robin pointed toward the kitchen, where he was standing, and beckoned to Micky. "You might as well come in, since you're here."

 

With a soft snort, Micky did. Robin shut and locked the door then reset the security.

 

"Is Leonard Nichols one of your aliases?"

 

"No."

 

"Is your name really Robin…Sutton, I think you said."

 

"The Robin part is. Sutton is how Mackenzie and his people know me."

 

You Do What You Have To - 18

 

 

"You know this church pretty well," Micky commented, as he inched forward to peer through one of the arched openings.

 

"I used to explore it when I was a kid. It beat sitting there listening to a dry sermon."

 

"Like any kid," Micky replied, looking down at the vista below him. There were a few people that he could see on the sidewalks, and cars driving by, but none of them looked like they were searching for something—namely him.

 

Robin must have agreed because, after checking from all sides, he said, "I think we're in the clear."

 

They went back down then Robin led the way along a hallway through a classroom area, ending at the rear of the church. Once they were outside, after Robin checked to be certain no one was watching, they walked casually to the street and away from the church. By now it was dusk, the sun going down behind the mountains to the west.

 

Micky wasn't sure if that was good or bad. It could be good, because it made them less visible under the trees that bordered the sidewalk. But, if everything Robin had done was just a ploy to gain Micky's trust, one of Robin's cohorts could pull up at any second, they could shove Micky into the car, and no one would be any the wiser.

 

"I have to stop thinking I'm in some gangster movie," Micky muttered under his breath.

 

Obviously Robin heard him anyway because he chuckled. "Nope, not a movie. Real life. That means the good guys don't always win, although we're sure going to try."

 

Micky looked askance at Robin. "I hope they do."

 

"Still not sure you can totally trust me?"

 

"Well…" Micky paused thoughtfully before almost smiling. "I'm still here. You haven't done anything but try to help me. You've had plenty of chances to take me off somewhere and do…whatever. So, yeah, maybe not totally, but a lot more than I did when we met."

 

"Enough to let me take you to a safe place to hide out?"

 

"The safe house?"

 

Robin nodded, but something in his expression said that wasn't what he meant. Micky decided not to ask until they were on their way. He was still afraid some of the men who were looking for him might be around somewhere. The sooner they got to Robin's car, the better. That is, if he had a car. So Micky asked.

 

"Sure do," Robin replied. "It's parked a couple of blocks from your place."

 

Micky hissed in a breath. "We have to go back there?"

 

"Not to worry, I'm not going to lead you to them. If you want to go back to the church to wait while I get it…"

 

"No, no. I think I'm safer with you."

 

"Thanks," Robin said, smiling.

 

It took longer than it might normally have to walk the six blocks to Robin's car because, despite the fact it was almost dark now, Robin insisted on using alleys and backtracking occasionally to be certain no one was following them. As soon as they reached the car, Micky got in and slumped down, trying to be as invisible as possible. Robin chuckled, patting Micky's leg.

 

"Being stupid, aren't I?" Micky said, even though he didn't sit up straight.

 

"No stupid. Just careful—and smart."

 

You Do What You Have To - 17

 

"How did you find me?" Micky asked Robin.

 

"I was eavesdropping when Mackenzie gave the order to watch your place. So I followed Harley."

 

"Who the hell is Harley?"

 

"Mackenzie's hatchet man. He runs the enforcement part of the organization."

 

Micky nodded. Leaning back, he gazed at the altar for a long while, trying to assimilate everything Robin had told him. "Okay," he finally said, turning his attention back to Robin. "I can see why this Mackenzie wants me found. He thinks I can finger whoever shot Darren. But why do Darren's people want me?"

 

"Actually, Mackenzie wants you for another reason. He thinks you have Darren's wallet."

 

"I do. But what difference does that make? All it has in it is his ID. Well, Gary Freeman's ID, and a lot of money." He smiled slightly. "Okay, there was a lot but I've spent most of it."

 

Robin asked, looking very serious, "Do you trust me enough to let me look at the wallet?"

 

Now there's a question I'm not sure I can answer. Micky drummed his fingers on the back of the pew in front of them. He did get me away from the people who are looking for me. That's in the plus column. But how do I know he's not as bad as they are? How do I know Darren's as awful as Robin says he is? Maybe this is all a ploy to get me to give him the wallet and then he'll take me somewhere and get rid of me, just like he implied the other guys were going to do.

 

"I take it you don't trust me," Robin said, "At least right now. That's okay and totally understandable. You don't know me from Adam and all you have is my word that I'm not with one side or the other in this fight."

 

Micky nodded, smiling dryly. "That's exactly how I feel."

 

"All right. I won't ask again. If and when you think you can trust me, give me the wallet. Until then, I'll do my best to keep you out of their hands."

 

"Where?"

 

"Probably at a safe house."

 

"Will you tell me—if I ask—who you work for?"

 

"A private group dedicated to eradicating crime." Robin chuckled. "Sounds sort of highfalutin, doesn't it?"

 

"More like something from a TV show—The Avengers or some such."

 

Robin grinned. "That would be us." He sobered then, saying, "Wait here while I see if the coast is clear yet."

 

"While you're looking on one side, they could be on the other," Micky pointed out.

 

"Ah, but I have a secret weapon. I'm going to check from the steeple."

 

Micky got up when Robin did. "I'm coming with you."

 

"Don't trust me not to split or let someone know you're down here all alone?"

 

"No. I just want to be with the one person I believe wants to keep me alive. I mean, you do or I'd be dead by now. You've had the chance."

 

"Nice to see you're thinking logically. Okay, follow me."

 

Micky did, and a few minutes later they were standing in the small room at the top of the steeple.

 

You Do What You Have To - 16

 

Once inside the church, they went down a hallway and through a set of doors into the nave. It was empty, except for a few people close to the front who were apparently seeking solace of one sort or another. Going to the back, Micky and Robin sat in one of the pews.

 

"Now can you tell me what's going on?" Micky asked quietly.

 

"Some of it." Robin stared toward the altar for a long minute. "Okay. Mackenzie is a business man. He owns an accounting firm and a nightclub, and as far as I know, they're both legit. It's his side business that isn't."

 

"Which is?"

 

"Prostitution. He heads a ring that runs across state lines, using girls and guys they pick up off the streets, some as young as eight or nine. All of them are under twenty-one."

 

"Good lord." Micky shuddered in disgust. "What about…Darren?"

 

"He works for a woman, Olivia Hummel, who has her own prostitution business, primarily focused on catering to gay men. She's trying to stop Mackenzie. Not for any altruistic reasons. She wants complete control over the boys who sell themselves on the streets. Mackenzie isn't going to let that happen, if he can help it."

 

"Damn! And I…" Micky bit off his words before he could admit he'd had casual sex with Darren.

 

"Slept with the bastard? Yeah, I'm aware of that."

 

"How?"

 

"I work for Mackenzie and was at the bar the night Darren picked you up. Before you get up and leave, I'm undercover. He thinks I'm—okay I am one of his boy toys."

 

"God damn! How can you do that?"

 

Robin lifted an eyebrow. "If you want to stop a sleazeball like him, you do what you have to."

 

"No way I could…" Micky froze when he heard footsteps behind them.

 

Robin put a hand on Micky's leg, turning slightly to see who was there. "It's just an old lady parishioner," he said softly, squeezing Micky's thigh before moving his hand. "Don't worry. I'm not going to let them find you. I promise."

 

"How can you? I could walk out the door and find Darren standing there. What would you do? Shoot him?" Micky frowned, looking at Robin. "Do you even have a gun?"

 

"Yeah, but I wouldn't use it in public, any more than Darren would."

 

"Uh-huh. Somehow I don't believe that. If he's looking for me… If those other guys are looking for me… Well, like you said, it's not to invite me home for dinner."

 

"Actually—" Robin grinned, "—I said to a frat party. But same difference. However, we're not going out the front door, or even the one we came in. We'll wait it out then leave by the back door. They might be canvassing the area, while trying to avoid each other, or more likely, to beat each other to finding you. Sooner or later they'll give up."