HIDE: A DANGEROUS AFFAIR

NINE

Brandon turned around in Wilson's embrace and looked up at him, placing his hands on his chest. “I’m glad you're here.” The words came out in a low, fierce hiss. “I’m glad you killed them all.”

“Yes,” he said, and Brandon saw a reflection of Wilson's rage and pain in the hard glitter of his eyes. “The men who hurt Adriana and took you from me are dead, and I’m taking steps to wipe out their entire organization. By the time I’m done, my father and those involved will be nothing more than a bunch of scared men with nowhere to hide.”

Brandon held his gaze without blinking. “Good.” he wanted them all destroyed. He wanted Wilson to tear them apart and make them feel Adriana’s agony

At that moment, they understood each other perfectly. He was a killer, and that was exactly what Wilson needed him to be. Brandon didn’t want a sweet, gentle man with a conscience—he wanted a monster who would brutally avenge Adriana’s death and create fear in the heart of his enemies.

A faint smile lifted the corners of his lips. Bending down, he kissed Brandon lightly on the forehead, then released him to walk over to the bed, where the rest of his clothes were.

Frowning, Brandon watched as he pulled on a long-sleeved T-shirt, socks, and a pair of boots. “Are you leaving?” he asked, feeling like a cold fist was squeezing his heart at the thought.

“No,” he replied, putting on his leather slacks and walking over to Brandon's closet. “We are leaving.”

Opening the closet door, he pulled out Brandon's jacket and warm boots and tossed them to her.

He caught the jacket on autopilot and put it on. “Where are we going to? When are we coming back?” he asked, pulling on the boots.

“I don’t know.” Coming up to him, he cupped Brandon's face in his hand, his thumb rubbing lightly against his lower lip. “You ask a lot of questions. Just trust me.”

That was unfair. He just wanted to know in other to brace himself for what might happen. For the first time in months, he felt alive. He felt emotions again, sharp and bright. Fear, excitement, exhilaration. Love.

It was not the sweet, tender kind of love he always dreamed of, but it was love. Dark, twisted, and possessive, it was both a compulsion and an addiction. He knew that more than he had experienced with Wilson before, it was about to get worse. More than he imagined. More than he prepared himself for. More than he thought he knew this man.

However, he needed Wilson as much as Wilson needed him.

“You know I need to ask all these questions. I have to know. What about my sister?”

Wilson smiled. Dropping his hand from Brandon's face, he reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small, thick folder, showing it to him. “Read through this,” he ordered.

Brandon grabbed it and began skimming through. When he was done, “what's this Wilson?” Brandon asked calmly.

“For your sister.” He came prepared eventually.

The folder held an international passport to Russia with a fake name, a credit card, and papers to a house that Wilson had also taken pictures of.

Wilson offered Brandon his hand. He hesitated for a moment, then he put his hand in his large palm. Wilson curled his fingers around Brandon's and his eyes looked fierce at the moment, almost radiant.

“You do know it's for the best. We don't know what's coming. Having her here will make us more vulnerable. And, those people won’t think twice about killing her even if they found out about her. That's if they haven't found out already.”

“What happens to our lives now?”

“For the company, someone will take care of business. I'll only supervise and visit occasionally, at least for a month or two. The world should think of me as dead. Secondly, you'll do what you love while with me.”

“Which is?”

“Cooking. Just be my chef. I know you are staying without working. So, be our chef, and ill pay you.”

“Really?”

“No,” he answered sharply with a chuckle. “What I have, you have. See this as a vacation where you get to do nothing. I can't have you stressing. You can help me out with other things,” Wilson said with a wink as he touched his d**k. “That would be more helpful.”

“Horny bastard!” Brandon let out.

Brandon knew that Wilson was right. He wasn't safe. Britney too. At least having Britney away would put his mind to rest until everything is sorted out. He can fight for Wilson and himself. At least he knew Britney would be in safer hands with maximum protection. She would be living her dream life as she had always wanted to.

“So, do you agree with me on my plans?”

“Yes. But, Wilson, henceforth, I would appreciate it if you run things by me before implementing them. We're partners, meaning that we have to discuss and agree on things. No more sidelining me. Transparency, truth, and understanding will drive us. Understood?”

“Sure. Furthermore, bear in mind that there are desperate times I'll have to take decisions without your consent. Just like this one. I didn't have time or the opportunity to discuss it with you. However, I knew it was in your best interest. In our best interest,” he corrected.

“Let's make times like that slim and hardly occur.”

Wilson chuckled and nodded. “Fair enough. Do you want me to talk to Britney, or you'll do that?”

“Both of us will.”

“Okay.”

“Do I need to pack anything?”

“No. Neither does she. Necessary things will be conveyed later on. We want to avoid appearing suspicious by taking anything.”

“When does she leave?”

“Tonight.”

“Why so sudden?”

“Because the men that have been tracking the both of you since your rescue will be taken out. It's best we move fast before they notice his disappearance and replace him with someone else.”

Brandon felt chilly and confused, standing in place and just zoning off into space. “You mean someone has been watching us?” he finally said.

“Yes, the same way I have been watching you. That's why I'm doing this. They might already know of my presence. That means more trouble, baby.”

“I understand.”

“That's why you keep charming me. Good in bed and sensible to deal with.”

“Stop making me sound like a w***e,” Brandon reprimanded.

Growling, “aren't you my whore.”

Brandon felt a lump form in his throat. He forced a smile and swallowed hard. “Let's go talk to Britney,” he said, his words coming out as a whisper laced with lust. “Remember, we don't have time.”

Wilson smirked and shook his head, linking his hand to that of Brandon. “Trying to escape. It's working,” he teased.

As they left the room, walking towards Britney's door, “would our disappearance end this? I mean, would they leave us alone?"

Wilson's face darkened, and he squeezed Brandon's hand a bit too tight. “No, baby. It will only fuel their desire to hunt me. Exactly what I want. For me to wash my hands with the blood of my enemies.”

Wilson filled with vengeance, knew that it was the beginning of a war he had tried so hard to avoid. Now, avoidance would do him no good, especially after learning that there was more to his mother's death than he knew. More, that he had to dig into.

For his revenge to be successful, he had to distance any source of weakness, which starts with Britney. As for Brandon, he had other plans for him.