|Bound To You|MxM

{1}~Ransoms & Rats~

JARON swiftly climbed the stairs and knocked on the wooden door.

"Enter."

At the sound of the gravely voice, he couldn't help but fight a smirk. It was endearing to him now, the hardass that Dom had become, conjured up from the vulnerable little boy he'd met years ago.

He placed his calloused fingers against the door and pushed it slowly. It creaked open to reveal a straight faced Dominic, sitting at the black leather couch.

He sat with a suit-pant clad leg crossed over the other. An arm was stretched over the back of the couch with the other casually rolling a glass of scotch around.

The ice in the drink crinkling against the glass was the only sound to be heard in the otherwise eerily silent room.

Dom stared up at him with blank eyes. Eyes that Jaron knew had stared down the most daring of his enemies to death and looked on while they bled into the dirt.

While anyone else would've been on their knees begging forgiveness for particularity nothing just at the cold manipulation in those eyes, Jaron knew better.

It wasn't anything unusual for Dom to look like that and it wasn't anything unusual for Jaron to know things like that about Dom. Things no one else knew.

Like the fact that his name was in fact Dominic and not D. But it wasn't his place to tell anyone else that. Besides, he felt touched that only he got to call the mysterious and deadly D, Dom.

He didn't take his closeness to Dom for granted though. No matter the history they shared, Jaron was convinced that if he made one wrong move to anger Dom, he would no doubt be thrown to the curb. After all, other than several more years with Dom and little things he knew about him, he wasn't any different than the rest of D's crew.

"Dom." Jaron nodded once and closed the door behind him. He stayed standing in from of it.

"I need you to take care of something for me," He rumbled out.

He motioned to the papers sitting on the dark oak table in the corner with a comfortable, leather clad chair behind it.

Jaron was used to the no-nonsense tone and the lack of greeting as he walked over to the papers. The soft red matting that covered the floor beneath his feet prevented the sound of footsteps from reverberating.

He picked the folder up from the smooth shiny surface and flipped through it.

On the first page, he found a description of young boy, giving specification of name, age... basic identity information. The boys name was Paul DaVinci. He was only 15. The small passport photo at the corner provided a grimy picture of the boy who looked slim, with dark hair and unnervingly light eyes. The next page included a short bio of the kids parents who were loaded as fuck. Apparently the two most successful people in all of the country. He knew them and they did not have a good past behind them. They may have fooled the public but not them.

As Jaron kept flipping through the pages, he saw what looked like police reports of a missing boy and articles from newspapers regarding the mystery of the lost boy. On the last page, Jaron found a poster with what was probably the kids' school picture. On the bottom, it stated:

If you want your kid back, pay the price. 1,000,000 starting 19.4.18. It will increase by a hundred thousand each week you fail to pay. Leave the money on your doorstep. We're watching.

The message was short and clear. These people weren't playing and the police surprisingly didn't seem to be doing anything about it. Two months had passed and what was more confusing was why the ransom hadn't been paid yet. If these parents were who these papers said they were, the ransom should've been taken care of long ago. Things weren't adding up and Jaron had only the choice of thinking the worst. Easy for him as it was what he did best.

As Jarons' mind puzzled over the pieces he was provided with, he came to the conclusion that these parents were likely involved a dealing of some kind, and they were using their son to get to the prize.

It wasn't surprising at all that this had been it. Jaron was used to dealing with these types of stories. In the world today, people were greedy and manipulative.

It wasn't hard either, to figure all this out in such a short time. The documents had stated that the business owned by the parents did transportation of precious cargo. Here, it easily translated into trafficking.

Jaron always thought far-fetched and never failed to prove his crazy theories right. He assumed that was one of the reasons Dom kept him around.

"I knew you would figure it out. Fucking brains," Dom drawled. Although the sentence suggested pride and excitement, his voice betrayed no emotion.

Jaron looked up at Dom, dumbfounded.

Dom still sat the same, his face a stoic mask.

"I'll need you to collect Hunter to go take out the bastard who sent this. All you'll need is with Melli. Be back before sundown."

With that clear dismissal, Jaron nodded and walked out of the room.

He went downstairs and walked into the 'kitchen' where he knew he would find Hunter.

As predicted, Hunter was leaned up against the wooden post connected to the edge of the counter. In front of him, an uncomfortable Melli stood caged in by Hunter's hulking form, unable to escape.

Jaron truly pitied her. She was brave and had seen things. Short but slender, she could definitely hold her own. When it came to Hunter though, no one could really escape, except Jo. He was just too talkative and annoying but you had to feel bad for him. And it seemed that Melli was a constant and open target for him.

At this moment though, Jaron had an excuse summoned from the leader himself, and so, he would swoop in and save Melli.

"Hunter... really need you to leave. I'm busy, and you're stressing me out," he heard Melli try.

"I can help you out, hun." Hunter leaned his chin on the palm of his bent arm, "I'm good with both my hands and mouth. Which one would you prefer?"

Jaron silently died.

"For fucks sake, Hunter!" Melli snapped. Hunter was relentless.

"Hey, Hunt? I need you 'till sundown. D wants us out."

Jaron heard Melli blow out a breath and fought the urge to laugh at the amount of relief expressed in the puff of air.

Hunter winked at Melli. "See you later boo. Warm the bed for me, will ya," he blew her a final kiss before turning to walk out ahead of Jaron.

He tuned his smiling head back and said to Jaron, "She loves me."

Jaron just shook his head, exhausted with the goofy man.