Broken Halo (Wander Lust - PT 2)

EPILOGUE: "Necessary Evil"

"I've been meaning to tell you
I've got this feelin' that won't subside
I look at you and I fantasize
You're mine tonight
Now I've got you in my sights...
With these hungry eyes
One look at you and I can't disguise
I've got hungry eyes
I feel the magic between you and I."

— Hungry Eyes, ERIC CARMEN

Troy stood motionless at the top of the porch steps, hand gripping the wooden rail. His dark eyes never left the drive where Joey had passed from sight over fifteen minutes ago. Link watched the veins swell in Troy's forearm as he squeezed the rail fiercely, his face strained with tension. Troy broke from his seeming paralysis and took a purposeful step down.

"No." Link halted him with that one quiet word.

Troy paused between steps, staring down the driveway. The early afternoon sun glinted off the thin film of tears in his eyes.

"We have to let him go," Link murmured. "You know we do."

A tremor rippled through Troy, his jaw clenching, knotting the muscles in his handsome face. "I don't want that fucker touching him." He swallowed hard and slowly turned his head, meeting Link's stare. "I don't want his filthy hands on him."

Link shared his sentiment, but it wasn't up to them. "Neither do I," he said. "But we need him."

Troy's face twitched and righteous fury burned behind his dark orbs. "If he fucking hurts him..."

"Tal has it under control." Link walked across the porch and cupped the back of Troy's head. "Even he isn't stupid enough to cross Tal. He knows the consequences."

Looking toward the drive again, Troy whispered tightly, "Isn't there some other way?"

Link slid his arm around Troy and kissed his shoulder. "Joey is going to be fine. Tal will see to it."

"If that fucker does hurt him..." he looked at Link with deadly eyes. "I'll fucking kill him."

"I think Tal would beat you to the punch," Link murmured and dug out his cell phone. He walked down the steps as he made his call and paused at the bottom. When the call picked up on the other end, he said quietly, "He left about twenty minutes ago." Link glanced up at Troy who was watching him tensely. "Tell me you have that fucker under control."

•

The man stood well over six-foot-five and lounged in the entryway of the dead end alley, his shoulder resting against the corner of the brick building to his right. His pale eyes were locked on the side door of the ritzy strip club across the street, outside which was parked the silver McLaren 570GT. It was all about the glitz and glitter for those bastards. But then again, drawing attention to themselves was the idea.

"He'll submit," Tal spoke into the cell. "I'll take it from here." He ended the call and tucked the phone away, glanced up and down the street then shoved off the wall and crossed over to the club. He headed for the side entrance and entered the establishment. A barrage of strobing, multi-colored lights struck him along with the loud thumping beat of acid rock music...and a vague, vile stench that burned his nostrils.

Tal waded through the thick throng of gyrating bodies, towering above them all. The horde began to part like the Red Sea as the occupants took notice of him, some shying away in fright, others gawking with curiosity yet keeping a respectfully safe distance. Tal ignored them all, his focus on the stage—and the sweaty, shirtless man in tight black leather pants humping the slick metal pole to the erratic beat of the ear-piercing music.