Conman

Chapter 7: Caught in the Crossfire

The weight of their kiss lingered in the air as Beau made his way back to his office, his mind racing with possibilities. Monty had thrown him off balance, something few people ever managed to do. But Beau wasn't one to be easily swayed. As the door to his office closed behind him, he called Aria in.

"Cancel my meetings for the rest of the day," Beau instructed, his voice steady, though his mind was anything but.

Aria nodded, her sharp eyes narrowing in concern. "Is everything alright, boss?"

Beau paused, considering how much to reveal. "It's nothing I can't handle. Just... an unexpected situation. I need Leo to dig into Monty. Everything about him, his connections, his history. I have a feeling he's not just a detective—there's something more."

Aria's expression shifted into one of understanding. "I'll take care of it," she said quietly, leaving the room with a purpose in her stride.

As Beau headed out, Jax tried to follow, but Beau stopped him with a firm hand on his shoulder. "Stay here," Beau ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument. "I need to handle this alone."

Jax hesitated for a moment before nodding, stepping back to let Beau go. Beau pressed the elevator button and waited, his mind a swirl of calculations and emotions. Was Monty truly interested in him, or was this all a setup? Beau couldn't afford to be reckless, not when so much was at stake. He would play along, but on his terms. As the elevator descended, Beau's resolve hardened. He would find out Monty's real motive, and he would do it without losing control.

Reaching the basement parking, Beau slid into his sleek sports car, its engine purring to life beneath him. The leather seats felt cold against his skin, mirroring the icy calm he forced himself to maintain. He drove up to the front of the building, his eyes scanning the lobby until they landed on Monty, standing there as if he belonged. Beau beeped the horn, and Monty turned, his face breaking into a smile that made something twist in Beau's chest.

Monty opened the door and slid into the passenger seat, the luxurious interior contrasting sharply with the tension between them. The car was silent except for the soft hum of the engine, a tangible barrier that neither seemed eager to break. Beau, ever observant, stole glances at Monty as they drove, trying to read him, to decipher the enigma that had unexpectedly wound itself into his life.

But it was during a red light, when the world outside stilled, that Monty suddenly leaned in, his lips brushing against Beau's in a kiss that was both surprising and inevitable. Time seemed to freeze, the sounds of the city fading into the background. Monty's touch was both gentle and insistent, sending a shiver down Beau's spine.

A sharp honk from the car behind them broke the spell, and Beau quickly shifted gears, his hands trembling slightly on the wheel. The traffic light had turned green, but for a moment, neither of them had noticed. As Beau pulled forward, Monty gave him quiet instructions—turn left, then right, then another left—until they arrived at Monty's apartment.

Monty's voice was steady as he invited Beau inside, though there was a note of something more—something darker, deeper, lurking just beneath the surface. Beau followed him, his footsteps echoing softly in the narrow hallway. Monty's apartment was a mix of chaos and order, with documents scattered across the floor and half-finished cups of coffee littering the table. Beau noticed Monty's hurried attempts to tidy up, a fleeting glimpse of the man behind the calm detective facade.

Beau stepped inside, the air thick with anticipation. But before he could fully process the situation, Monty turned and hugged him, catching him off guard. Beau stiffened, his mind racing to understand what was happening. Monty's hands were surprisingly strong as they gripped his wrists, lifting them above his head.

"Monty, what—" Beau began, but his words were cut off by the cold click of handcuffs snapping shut around his wrists.

Monty's grin was almost predatory as he stepped back, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Beaumont Lexington," he began, his voice mock-serious, "you are under arrest—"

Before he could finish, Beau's instincts kicked in. With a swift movement, he kicked Monty's leg, sending him off balance. Beau twisted, trying to make a break for the door, but Monty was faster, recovering quickly and slamming Beau against the couch with a force that knocked the breath out of him.

Monty pinned Beau down, his weight pressing against him, overpowering any attempt at resistance. Beau's eyes blazed with anger and frustration, but there was something else there too—something raw and unspoken. Monty's face was inches from his, their breaths mingling in the charged air.

"Let me go," Beau demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

But Monty only smirked, leaning in closer until their lips were almost touching. "Beaumont Lexington," he repeated, his tone softer now, "you're under arrest... for stealing my heart."

The tension between them shattered as Beau laughed, a deep, genuine laugh that caught even him by surprise. Monty silenced him with a kiss, deep and possessive, while his hands worked the key to unlock the handcuffs. The metal fell away, but neither of them moved to part. Instead, the kiss deepened, becoming a blur of passion and desperation that neither could resist.

What followed was a rush of emotion, an hour that neither of them would be able to fully recall later, except for the intensity of it all. In those moments, the lines between them blurred—between hunter and hunted, between detective and con artist, between two men who had somehow found each other in the midst of their tangled lives.

When the world finally settled around them again, Monty lay beside Beau on the couch, their breaths slowly evening out. Beau stared at the ceiling, his mind still spinning with everything that had happened. He didn't know where this would lead, or if it would lead anywhere at all. But for now, in the quiet aftermath, he allowed himself to simply exist in this moment, with Monty beside him.

As the evening light filtered through the windows, casting long shadows across the room, Beau turned his head to look at Monty. Their eyes met, and for the first time, Beau felt something shift inside him—something he hadn't expected, something he wasn't sure he was ready for.

Monty smiled softly, a smile that reached his eyes. "What now?" he asked, his voice gentle, as if he too was afraid to break the fragile peace between them.

Beau didn't have an answer. But for now, maybe that was okay. For now, they could just be.