Chapter Eight
THE MESSAGE ON Kit’s phone reads, I’m the only one who will ever truly understand you. It’s morning, and Arthur stares across the table at Kit, who chews on his lip and scrolls through his messages.
“Hmm,” Arthur says, unsure what else to say. He won’t tell Kit to block the number—and even if he did, it would be too easy for Ward to switch to a new one.
“Arthur…” Kit pushes egg across his plate with a fork. He likes soft yolks and a lot of pepper.
“Mm?”
“I know you’re planning to protect me for the rest of the shoot…”
Arthur nods. “Mm.”
“And you’re worried Michael is still going to…whatever this is…afterward.”
“Harassment. Stalking.”
“Huh?”
“That’s what this is.”
“Oh. Yes, well, about all of it. Last night got me thinking…” He plays with his eggs, and Arthur watches him and waits. “So, stuff like this used to happen less.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“The messages and stuff. And now these things happen…a lot more.” He frowns. “And the thing is…I don’t actually know how to stop them. I mean, I got the restraining order. And then I tried to… Well. That didn’t work.”
“Tried to what?”
“Have the restraining order enforced.”
Arthur frowns. He already tried. That’s why he doesn’t want to go through the police. “Oh.”
“So…if I hired your…whatever. Company. Security team? Whatever you are. If I hired you…what would you do?”
Arthur sets down his coffee mug. “First, we’ve already been hired. By Therese.”
“But not to help me. That’s just to keep the set safe and all that.”
“Safe, apparently, from a person who wants to sabotage it because he’s obsessed with you.”
“Riiight… And you’re—”
“So, we’ve been hired to stop him. Which is why we’re looking into their business dealings. My team is working on everything. You know that.”
“I’m not talking about Jameson. I can tell you now, he’s untouchable.”
“Why is he untouchable? Cooper was easily able to catch them filming people illegally. In one night. Less than one night.”
Kit shakes his head. “That’s irrelevant. Do you know how many times that guy has settled lawsuits? He’s literally a billionaire. He owns an entire island. I know. I’ve been there. It’s like Richard Branson.”
“From porn?”
“In the beginning. I don’t… I don’t know what else. But he’s friends with, like, CEOs and politicians.”
“Kit. Christopher.”
“What?”
“Did you ever see anything—”
Kit rubs his temples. “No. What I saw and did was…managed. I met him through Michael. Michael sort of…recruited me and took me along. I was young, even at the end. I just didn’t think so.”
“You’re still young.”
“Doesn’t feel like it. And, anyway, I’m nowhere near as young now as then.”
“Hm.”
“Hm.”
“But I heard things. Enough to know to be afraid of him.”
“Like what?”
“They say he has cameras in every room of every property he owns, for one.” He shrugs. “That’s a lot of footage of a lot of people.”
“That’s just more to incriminate him with.”
“No, it’s more to incriminate the people who would have to prosecute him—or the people connected to them or running them. They’re not going down just because he made some porn without people consenting to be in it. I know this business, Arthur. People like to pretend we don’t exist…until about ten o’clock at night, with headphones in so their wives won’t hear from the next room.” He makes a wry smile. “Or until they’re invited to the orgy, to play with whatever new toy Michael recruited.”
“What?” Arthur feels a surge of adrenaline.
“Not me,” Kit clarifies. “He never wanted me to work any of those things. It’s part of how he would show me I was special to him.”
Arthur growls. He doesn’t even try to suppress the sound. “What about that?”
Kit sits up straight. “What?”
“The recruits? You said he ‘recruited’ people. Do you still know any of them—anyone who maybe did see something?”
“I don’t know… People have a way of disappearing.” He watches Arthur drum his fingers on the table. “But there is… Hmm. A while back I saw… I may know of one person.”
“One person might be enough. It’s a start, anyway.”
ARTHUR TAKES KIT with him to the office Saturday. Maurice frowns at them as a greeting, and Arthur lifts a hand in a half wave. “Do you always work on Saturdays?” Kit asks in a low voice. He yawns.
“When we’re working on something, yes. The sort of thing we do makes us busier on the weekends.”
“And what exactly would you say you do, dear Arthur?”
Arthur ignores the question and leads him into their pseudo-conference room. Jamie and Cooper are already there, waiting. “Have a seat,” he tells Kit.
“Oh my, what a terrifically formidable-looking bunch you are. You’re…Jamie, right? I’ve seen you at the warehouse.”
“Hello, Kit.”
“Which makes you…Cooper? The spy?”
Cooper straightens his shoulders a little at the pronouncement, and Arthur and Jamie snort in laughter. “First of all,” Cooper says, “fuck you two. Second, yes, I’m Cooper.”
“Sitting outside a massage parlor doesn’t make you a spy,” Jamie points out.
“I found out they were recording those people.”
Arthur narrows his eyes. “Because you happened to find the video of the orgy they recorded… Just part of your investigation?”
Cooper glares at them.
“There’s nothing wrong with watching a skosh of porn from time to time,” Kit says. “Especially when the videos are from a studio that respects its employees. I’ll get you a premium membership to a better site.” He winks.
Cooper’s face turns pink. Arthur shakes his head. “The filming isn’t why we’re here.” He pauses as Maurice steps into the room and sits down at the table with them, then turns to Kit. “You want to tell them?”
“Well, first, I’d like to say I think you’re all missing a marble or two, just for the record. Trying to take down Jameson and Michael is a terrible idea, and we’re all probably going to end up dead. Bodies dumped in the harbor. Swimming with the fishes. All that.”
Jamie shrugs. Cooper smiles. “It’s sleeping with the fishes,” Maurice corrects him, aggressively chewing his gum.
“Whatever. That said, I may know someone who’d be willing to share some inside information on Jameson. If you can keep her safe.”
“Who?” asks Maurice.
“Her name is Hattie. She used to work for Empire too.”
Arthur nods. “If she has a firsthand account, coupled with what Cooper has seen…”
“You need more than seeing,” Maurice says. “Cooper, get back to Ward’s house. Find something we can use. Photographs…anything.”
“Already on it. I have an appointment to set up testing equipment for radon.” Everyone stares at him. “What?”
“Radon?” Arthur asks.
“Radon gas is one of the leading causes of lung cancer after cigarettes.” He shrugs. “You gotta get that shit tested and put in a mitigation system.”
Maurice stares at him without blinking. “Just get me something I can use—not anything illegal.” He scrawls a few words onto his steno pad.
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Arthur, Jamie, you go with Kit and meet with Hattie.”
“What about you?” Arthur asks.
Maurice heaves a breath. “I have a meeting with Pike.”
“What?” Jamie leans forward. “Why?”
“He’s one of the only people we still know on the inside.”
“Inside what?” Kit asks.
Arthur explains, “Gordon Pike works in intelligence.”
“Oh, like an actual spy?”
“Kind of.”
“How exciting.”
KIT TRACKS DOWN Hattie at a café on the south side, where she’s working as a barista. She has long blonde hair and bright hazel eyes, and the three men pile into a corner booth until she has a break. The floors are concrete, polished smooth for an industrial-chic look. The tables look like reclaimed planks held together by gray and black metal, atop pipes welded together to look DIY. Potted plants and stringed lights soften the look, and Arthur feels like he’s in a stock photograph or an advertisement for something nobody needs. Another tablet, most likely, or some new type of yoghurt. He’s uncomfortable, but Jamie looks like he’s found Heaven. Kit blends in, exactly like he did at the diner, and Arthur wonders how that can be possible. He realizes a woman at the next table has a dog with her. Inside.
When she joins them, Hattie looks wary. “Kit? It’s been a while. What’s going on?”
“Darling, you look fantastic. These are my new friends, Arthur and Jamie.”
She gives them a placid smile.
“It’s good coffee,” Arthur grunts. Jamie swallows and seems tongue-tied. Arthur considers her for a moment—she is, truly, a remarkably beautiful woman.
“Thanks,” she says. She slides into the booth beside Jamie. “But I know you didn’t track me down just to introduce me to your new boyfriends.”
“No,” Kit agrees, “I didn’t.” He forces a smile. “So, I’m going to get right to it. They know people. People who may be able to…” He looks to Arthur. “To do what, exactly?”
“Justice,” Arthur says.
“You’re talking about Jameson.” She tenses.
“Hattie, I know—I’m not—I was there, remember? I know you weren’t…telling me everything. You were hiding something. How old are you now?”
She smiles bitterly. “I don’t think my word will be enough to encourage anything at all resembling ‘justice.’”
Arthur nods. “Maybe not, but if you have anything to reaffirm the dates—anything you might not have thrown away, it could be used as evidence. Even a little is better than nothing.”
“I’m not sure that’s true,” she says.
Jamie clenches his fist. “He let you work for him underage?” His voice drips with fury.
She puts her hand on his fist. “Oh no. He did so much more than underage videos.” She pats his hand a few times. “And I’m free from it all now. I work here. I’m a manager. I have benefits.” She sucks on her lip.
“Hattie,” Kit says, “you know he’s still going. And the longer he gets away with it, the richer he gets, the younger they’ll get.” She looks down. Kit leans forward. “I didn’t want to have anything to do with them, either, but think about it. Have you kept up with the business at all? Do you know the sort of things people consider ‘normal’ now?”
Hattie huffs. “Don’t you dare try to guilt me into anything, Chris. I don’t owe anyone—”
“I’m not. You don’t. You’re right. I’m saying there may actually be a chance. It’s Michael—he’s being reckless. Unhinged. It opens up possibilities. They know people. People with power.”
“Nobody has power like Jameson.”
“There’s always somebody with more power,” Arthur says.
“You’re naïve,” she tells him. “But I’ll look around and see what I can find. How did you find me?”
Kit grins. “Rumors, reviews, and people with no social media privacy settings. Thank you, Hattie. Call me?”
She nods and adds his number to her phone.
“SO,” ARTHUR SAYS. They have takeout spread across the coffee table, and Kit is flipping through Netflix again. “You and Hattie…”
Kit slurps a noodle. “We never did any scenes together, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“No, what I mean is…she doesn’t seem to have…happy memories.”
“Everyone has a different set of experiences. Not everyone chooses to go into this.”
“Fuck. So she—”
“I don’t know, exactly. There were a lot of things I didn’t know to look for, but I know now. Red flags.”
“Is it something that’s different for women than men?”
“Not so simple. And Therese was a performer at first too. She liked performing but decided she liked being behind the camera more. Nic has been her partner on and off the camera for years. I know people who love it and other people who just desperately need money. Or not desperately. It’s a job. Have you ever had a job that ended up being something you didn’t expect?”
Arthur takes a drink from his bottle of beer. “Most of my career has been something I didn’t expect.”
“Really?”
“You grow up thinking you’re the good guy and you’re going to save people… That isn’t always what actually goes on in the world.”
Kit watches him take another drink. He looks like he wants Arthur to continue, so he looks closely at his fork instead. Kit pops one of his knuckles. “There you have it. Expectation versus reality, right?”
“And your reality?”
Kit smiles and picks up his phone. “My reality… Let’s see…” He taps a few times. “Ah yes, here we go.” He connects his phone to Arthur’s TV.
“Christopher, what are you doing?”
He bites his lip. “Just an enlightening illustration.” He presses play on a video. “I tried to send this to you the other day, but you wouldn’t watch it.” He presses pause. “Wait. Do you want to see it?”
“Tell me what I’m seeing first.”
“This is the first video I made for Therese. We’re both older, experienced, and safe. Therese has very strict safety policies, as you know. Lots of testing. Lots of communication. No exceptions. No risks.”
“I don’t want to watch Therese.”
“No, she directed this one.”
“Oh.” Arthur takes another sip. He lets his eyes track down Kit, and he notices the way he leans forward, angled toward him. “Do you want to watch it, or do you just think I do?”
“It’s so much more entertaining than anything on Netflix.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
“I would love to watch my video with you.”
Arthur sighs. This is a terrible idea. “Okay.”
THE VIDEO BEGINS in an office. The room is cosmopolitan, with a slick gray floor, shelf-lined walls, and broad windows. Kit sits at a desk. It’s contemporary, with a glass top and chrome accents. His hair is styled, and he has a good amount of scruff. Arthur wonders what his facial hair feels like. “I haven’t seen you with this much of a beard before,” he says.
“You like it?” Kit asks.
“I might.”
There are long shots of Kit typing on a laptop and another man watching him from outside the room. Watching him. Wondering what he tastes like.
He continues typing, and there’s a knock at the door. “Enter,” he commands. His voice is authoritative and clear, and the timbre sends something tremoring through Arthur.
The door swings open, and the other man enters. He’s around the same age but cleanly shaven. He has blond hair. “The reports are filed, sir.”
Kit looks up. “Excellent. Thank you, Cam.” He goes back to typing, but Cam doesn’t leave. He stands for a moment and stares at Kit. The camera takes his perspective, and the shot focuses in on Kit’s face. Then the focus drifts down to his tightly buttoned collar, his tie, his typing fingers. He’s wearing a wedding band. Arthur’s mouth quirks up.
“What?” Kit asks him.
“Nothing,” Arthur says. “I can see where this is headed.”
“And?”
“I’m watching.”
On the screen, Cam shifts his weight from leg to leg, and Kit looks back up. “Is there something else you need?”
Cam licks his lips. “It’s getting late. I thought you’d head home by now.”
Kit rakes his fingers through his hair. “I guess it is.” He shrugs. “You know how it is.”
“How what is, sir?”
“Marriage.”
Cam bites his lip. “But you’ve only been married a few months.”
Kit shrugs. “It isn’t that kind of marriage.” He closes the laptop.
Cam takes a step forward. “What do you mean?”
“She just wanted to check the box. For her, marriage is like a business transaction.” He picks up a pen and starts to fidget with the end. “I’m a good investment.”
“Is that why you’ve been so stressed?”
“Stressed?” Kit sniffs.
Cam takes another step forward. “Yeah,” he says, smiling, “stressed. You look tense.”
Kit returns the smile. He rotates his chair a little. “I suppose.” He stretches his neck. “Haven’t been able to find much time for myself, you know?”
Cam nods. “That’s why you have me, though, sir. I’m your assistant. You can use me however you like.” He bites his lip, eyes tracking down over Kit’s body. He leans against the side of Kit’s desk.
Kit chuckles and looks up at him. “Oh yeah? Your duties are going to expand to back rubs too?”
Cam’s voice takes on a husky quality. “If you want me to, I would, sir.”
Kit’s chest visibly moves as he takes a deep breath. “Back rubs, huh?”
Cam nods. “You have to take time for you.”
Kit watches him step close, then he looks up and Cam moves behind him. “Cam, you don’t have to—”
“Let’s get you out of your jacket, sir.” He tugs Kit’s lapels apart and slides the cloth down his arms, then tosses it across the desk. “Don’t you feel better already?”
Kit rolls his shoulders and stretches his neck. “I suppose…”
“That’s right,” Cam murmurs. He kneads into Kit’s shoulders. “That’s good, isn’t it?”
“Mmm,” Kit agrees. His eyes close, and his expression changes. His lips just barely part.
Cam seems to take note of the shift. He kneads up the back of Kit’s neck, then dips his thumbs beneath his collar. Kit tilts his head forward to offer more of himself. Cam pushes his lips together. He gazes down at Kit, and he looks hungry.
Arthur shifts in his seat, and Kit grins at him. “Good, right?”
“I guess.”
“I had a lot of fun with this one.”
Cam slips his hands around Kit’s neck and starts to loosen his tie. Kit opens his eyes and looks down. He watches Cam’s fingers slide the tie free and unbutton his shirt. “What are you…”
“Shh, it’s okay. I’m just going to make you feel good.” He reaches further, unbuttoning as he goes. “Let me make you feel good.” He slides his hands back up Kit’s chest, humming in satisfaction as his fingers rake through the chest hair. He pulls the shirt apart and off Kit’s shoulders. They’re broad and fit, and Arthur’s body responds to what he sees. He adjusts himself.
“Already?” Kit asks. Arthur glares at him, then looks back at the screen. “God, the way you look when you watch me, Arthur. Fuck, do you know what you do to me? I can’t even think about what I’m supposed to be doing.”
Cam presses his thumbs into Kit’s back and strokes up and down his skin. Kit groans. Cam whispers to him, “You know, sir, I would do anything you want to help you out. Anything you need.”
Kit’s eyes flutter to the side and then down. “Mmm, that’s… That sounds good, but I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t be doing this. I don’t think my wife would—”
“She doesn’t need to know.”
He keeps rubbing and reaches one hand around to Kit’s chest. His fingers toy with his hair. They slide over and find a nipple. When he tweaks it, Kit gasps.
“Oops,” he murmurs.
Kit lets out a throaty laugh. “You—” He stops when Cam tweaks his other nipple too.
“I what?”
“You know what would make me feel really good?” Kit asks. Cam takes a step back, and Kit twists his chair around. He reaches down and undoes his fly. “If you help me out with this, it would make me feel real good.”
Cam smiles and drops to his knees. He reaches for Kit and pulls him free from his trousers. It’s already hard, and Arthur feels himself twitch in response. Cam gets down to business. He grips Kit by the base and licks along his length. The camera pans out, and Arthur takes in the view: Kit, unbuttoned and undone, laid back in a chic office, with his assistant on his knees at his feet, sucking down his cock like it’s candy. “Fuck, Christopher.”
“You like it when I take charge, hmm?”
Arthur squeezes himself and focuses his attention on the video.
Kit runs his fingers through Cam’s hair and pushes him further down on his cock. Cam takes it. He swallows at Kit’s cock until his nose is pressed to his abdomen; then he pulls back and sucks it, cheeks hollowing, and sets a moderate rhythm. In the video, Kit whispers praise. “That’s right, suck on it, just like that,” and “So good to me, that’s perfect. Yes.” The camera focuses on his fingers as he cards them through Cam’s hair, and they’re nimble and steady, and Arthur can’t help but look at them where they rest on Kit’s lap beside him.
As if he knows, Kit reaches over and strokes one hand along Arthur’s thigh.
When Kit has had enough of Cam’s mouth, he pushes him back. Cam is panting, and he stays on his knees as Kit stands. He reaches down and loosens Cam’s tie without undoing it, then unbuttons and removes his shirt. He licks his lips. Cam is lean and undeniably attractive, with defined muscles and a few tattoos. Kit unfastens his trousers and pushes them off so that Cam is left in nothing but his tie. Kit pulls him with it and leads him to the desk. “You really want to make me feel good?” he asks.
“Yes, yes.”
Kit chuckles, low and confident. Arthur groans. He pushes him over the desk. He runs his hands down his flanks and takes a hold of each side of his ass, squeezing his flesh. “I’ve seen you watching me,” Kit says in the video. He kneels. “Is this what you imagined me doing?”
Cam nods again, frantically. He spreads his legs. Kit licks along his ass.
“Jesus, fuck,” Arthur groans. He reaches for Kit but pulls himself back. “God damn it.” He fumbles around the coffee table.
“What?” Kit asks.
“Where’s the fucking card?”
“What card?”
“Therese gave me a card for a clinic, and—”
Kit launches himself into his lap. Their lips come together, and tongues, and teeth. He tangles his fingers into Arthur’s hair and pulls on it, and Arthur thrusts his hips up against him, unable to stop himself. Kit rolls his hips down, thrusting and grunting. He pulls back from the kiss, then mouths along Arthur’s neck. Arthur tears Kit’s shirt out of his jeans and yanks it over his head. He presses his face against his chest and breathes him in, his gorgeous chest hair bristling against his cheek. He makes a feral noise and then he sucks hard on Kit’s nipple. “Oh my God, oh, fuck, Arthur, fuck that’s—shit—”
He kisses him again, and the wet squelching from the television is combined with Kit’s moans as he pulls Arthur’s shirt over his shoulders too. When he has him out of it, he stops for a moment. “Jesus fucking Christ.”
“What?” Arthur asks.
“It’s Christmas and my birthday. Are you real?”
In response, Arthur unbuttons Kit’s jeans.
“Fuck, yes, you are.” Kit scrambles up. “How do you—”
“Just take them off.”
“Yes, sir,” Kit says with a grin. He slides everything off, and his cock bounces free. He makes to climb back onto Arthur’s lap, but Arthur stops him. “What?”
Arthur turns him around so he faces the TV and pulls him down onto his lap. “I think you should watch this too,” he whispers in his ear.
A shiver runs through Kit’s body, and Arthur feels every bit of it. He reaches his hands out and feels Kit’s thighs, then carefully, with clear intent, trails them up toward his groin.
On the TV, Kit pulls his tongue from Cam’s ass and spreads his cheeks apart. Cam reaches to help, and Kit pushes a finger inside him. “Hnnngh,” Cam groans.
Kit exhales, and Arthur grips his cock. He presses his thumb against the tip and rolls it around the head.
Kit strokes a finger into Cam, then adds a second and a third.
Arthur strokes Kit with slow, steady motions, and he moans and drips. He reaches up and grips Arthur by the back of his neck, leaning against Arthur’s chest. He rocks his shoulders against him, as if he’s relishing the feeling of their skin finally touching.
In the video, Kit slicks his cock with lube. Arthur reaches for the bottle still on the coffee table and does the same for him now. When he pushes his cock into Cam on the screen, Arthur strokes him. He presses his free hand against Kit’s chest and pulls him back against him even closer.
Kit groans and thrusts up into Arthur’s hand. Arthur nips at his shoulder. “Impatient.”
Kit nods. “Yeah…”
“Do like he said and let yourself be taken care of,” Arthur murmurs.
They watch Kit fuck into Cam, and Arthur strokes him along with the screen. When Kit sits back in the desk chair and Cam climbs into his lap, Arthur reaches down and toys with his sack. He squirms and whines.
“You look like you’re liking that,” Arthur continues to growl. Kit pants and holds on. On the screen, he grips Cam’s hips. “The way he’s riding you… Tell me, Christopher,” he whispers into his ear, “do you want to ride my cock like that, or do you want me to ride you?”
Kit nods. “Both,” he groans. “Both is good.”
Arthur tightens his fist around Kit’s cock. It’s flushed dark and slick in his hand. He speeds up, and Arthur gets to hear him moan through the television speakers and, even better, close to his ear. He leans back, and Arthur sucks kisses onto his neck. He presses his teeth against his shoulder. “Ah, fuck, fuck, Arthur…”
Arthur bites, and Kit comes. Arthur nurses him through it, squeezing his sack and kissing to soothe where his teeth have plundered. On the screen, Cam kneels back down, and Kit shoots on his face. He leans back against Arthur, chest heaving as he comes down from it.
Arthur lifts his hand to his mouth and tastes.
“Arthur, you’re going to—Christ, that’s…” He spins around and straddles Arthur, reclaiming his mouth in a bruising kiss. He grips Arthur’s hair and clenches his thighs around Arthur’s hips, rolling against him.
Arthur lets his hands find Kit’s back. He pushes one up to the nape of his neck and presses the other against his lower back. Kit moans and grinds on him, and Arthur dips his hand lower. He lets his fingers explore as he pushes his hips up to meet Kit. His fingertip creeps lower, and Kit bucks, groaning into his mouth. Arthur comes, for the second time this week, in his jeans.
When his vision clears and his breath returns, Kit hands him the card. “When do you want to go?” he asks.
“When do you want me to go?”
“Now,” Kit says. “Right now.”
“I think I need to make an appointment.”
“They know me. It’ll be fine.”
“Eager?”
Kit looks him up and down, like he’s a feast on a table. “You have no idea.”
Arthur lifts an eyebrow. “I should change pants.”
Kit shrugs. “If you insist.”