The Criminal and The Vigilante (boyxboy) Bk 3

Chapter 2: Punishment for incompetence is death.

Chapter 2

~Lucas’s POV~

Adrian’s men were following me again.

Other than the fact that my lover was a killer, I think this was the one thing we argued about the most. He’d set them on me  a few weeks after we’d started seeing each other; he called them ‘backup’ if I ever found myself in trouble, well I called them a pain in my ass.

I was a grown man, why the hell would I need two bodyguards following me around day in and day out? Adrian’s exact words when I’d told him to get rid of them was; ‘you won’t even know they’re there’.

I wasn’t sure if it is that the two men actually believed that I couldn’t spot them from a mile away, but if they did then I couldn’t help but feel insulted. It’s like they weren’t even trying to keep hidden. They would only do me more harm than good and in the end I’d probably find myself trying to save their asses rather than the other way around.

I sighed as I crossed the street to get over to my apartment. There was no point trying to talk to Adrian about it because after months of arguing he still hadn’t let up.

I suppose I should feel grateful that he cared enough to hire two men to ‘keep me alive’ but come on, I’d taken down bigger men that these two brutes without so much as a scratch on my person so I’d say they were wasting their time and Adrian was wasting his money keeping them in his employ.

I turned the key in the lock and pushed open my front door, then kicked it shut making my way quickly up the stairs and into my makeshift office.

It was about time I got started on that job my friend over at the agency had sent me, play time with Adrian was over, it was time to get back to my responsibilities. I went over to the only book stand in the room, shifted the stack of books on the top shelf to the side which hid the stainless steel in-wall safe behind them. I punched in the code and it clicked open giving me the view of the contents inside.

For jobs like this I liked to first observe my target, get a feel of his or her habits and lifestyle, the people they associated  themselves with. That way when I finally caught up with them I could use my findings as leverage over them; blackmail I suppose you could call it. That usually tipped the scale in my favor and if that didn’t work then I’d do the part of the job they hired me for: torture.

 After all I never said I was a law abiding citizen, just that I liked to do good. My kind of torture was subtle- if you could ever call torture subtle- I pushed just enough to get them talking and sometimes I didn’t even have to go that far; a simple stern expression and the threat of physical pain could often times get even the most feared goons to spew their guts to me and that was fine.

I pulled out the binoculars and my glock, sticking them both in a small pouch. I hated guns, always have and simply because I carried one around certainly didn’t mean I was in the habit of shooting people. It was for safety purposes only, after all I wasn’t a killer.

I pushed back the books in place and closed the office door behind me when I left. As I was passing through the kitchen I grabbed an apple from the bowl on the counter and sunk my teeth into it, the juice oozing out and rolling down my chin as I pulled the door open and walked out into the street.

……………………………….

It was hours later before I finally caught a glimpse of the alleged rapist and murderer, he went by the name Alfred O’Grady and from what I could see, he lived alone. A very ordinary looking guy in my estimation, about 5’7”, a little on the pudgy side. I thought he could do with a shave and his small beady eyes weren’t much to look at either, like I said; ordinary.