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“Colton Bridger,” Snoopy said. “His family is a pretty big deal in high society. His mother, brother, and sister are also well-connected and rich. I’ll send you the information that I have.”

“Good job. It’s enough. Thank you.”

“No problem, just stay safe.”

“I will,” Ze said, then he hung up and when the information was sent to his cell phone, he looked it over. “There you are.” He wondered why the man had exposed himself back at the hotel. Perhaps, he didn’t think he’d have to worry about Ze finding anything out because he’d planned on killing him. Ze thought back to the moment when the bastard had almost killed him. Colton’s hand around his neck, choking the life out of him. His wrists pinned to the bed over his head and his legs trapped between powerful thighs. He couldn’t set himself free no matter how hard he struggled. In fact, all it did was make him hornier. Being that helpless in the face of death. More importantly, he was being completely dominated, manhandled, and tortured by a living god. Holy shit, it excited him! What had Colton done to him? Fuck! His cock stiffened in his pants at the memory and he had to cut off the replay.

“Get it together, Ze,” he told himself. He couldn’t let his need for that man–no–Colton get the better of him like it had. The next time they met, he’d have to kill him because he’d have no choice. The very thought made his heart ache and his chest tighten with a sadness that filled him with loneliness. A chance encounter like what they had… that held so much promise of what could be, and he had to throw it all away. Would he ever meet another man like Colton again? Hell, did he even want to? A man like Colton wasn’t a dime a dozen… no, he was his dream come true. Still, Colton was his target and if he wanted to survive their next battle, he had to be prepared.

Ze read everything that had been sent to him, because he had to know more about this assassin who blew his mind. The guy had the perfect cover. Who’d suspect a well-respected philanthropist and art gallery owner to be a cold-blooded killer? Hell, it was brilliant. He wondered what Colton would have done with his body had he followed through. Would he have left him there for housekeeping to find? Or would he have packed him away in some suitcase and wheeled him out of the hotel? He was sure the man had hidden his face when he’d broken into his room. Then he wondered how he knew which room he was in.

“Son of a bitch, he heard her,” Ze said out loud once the pieces of the puzzle came together. “That slick bastard.” He snarled as he thought about the moment he’d gotten his key card and room number. Colton had been standing right there acting like he wasn’t listening to every word when that was the whole purpose. Then Ze wondered why he didn’t just try to take him out before he had entered the hotel. He obviously had a sniper rifle and opportunity, why hadn’t he taken it? Why attack him in his hotel room? Damn it! More questions he worried he’d never get answers to. He couldn’t help it, he smiled to himself, because this assassin, this Colton Bridger, was on another level. Ze had never faced an enemy like this before.

It was time to get some rest. Ze wasn’t worried about anyone sneaking in as he had secured all entrances. A person would have to really slam into the barricades to get them open. And with all that noise, he’d be ready. He drifted off to sleep and dreamed about Colton Bridger’s hands and mouth on him and his grip on his hair as he brutally fucked him into sexual heaven.

Ze woke with a start by the sound of his cell’s alarm going off, his hand reaching for the gun in his pants. Once he realized all was well, he wiped his eyes, then turned to look out of the window at the scene. People were gathering, wanting to get the best seating. Police were there as well, setting up security protocols and all of that. He looked at his watch, three more hours until the senator was slated to speak. He stood up and grabbed an empty bottle he’d packed for this specific reason. There was a bathroom in the room he was in, but he was reluctant to use it. No water meant he couldn’t flush. The less evidence he left, the better, and his goal was not to leave any. He relieved himself in the bottle, tightened the cap, then returned it to his duffle bag.

He used sanitizing wipes to freshen up a bit, then ate some jerky and drank a bit of water. Not too much, just enough to stave off starvation. He then changed clothes; sweats, a t-shirt, and sneakers. That way, when he escaped, it’d look like he was leaving the gym. To pass the time away, he looked into more information about his assassin. Snoopy had managed to get him personal information that wasn’t easy to obtain, so now he knew the man’s home addresses… all of them under his name. He knew his net worth, which was over a hundred and seventy million dollars.

Damn, did he make all of that killing people? He saw a family photo that Colton had taken at a function that featured him along with his mother, father, brother, and sister. Colton looked much younger in the photo, like in his thirties. Ze went back to the photo of Colton on his art gallery’s official website. The man’s handsome smile hid the real killer behind the charm. He ran a finger along the screen over the image of Colton’s face. The man looked so different when he was leaning over him, his hand against Ze’s throat, strangling him to death. His expression was pure predator and full of dominance. All pretense of a rich playboy nowhere to be seen, and it was something about that moment that really got Ze’s engine revved up. He’d lost himself when Colton’s lips touched his, then he fell deeper after their tongues touched.

Outside, Ze could hear more commotion as the time was nearing the senator’s speech. Ze checked the window and saw the seats were filled, and other guests were making their speeches. Again, he looked at his watch, the senator was slated to speak at twelve, which was in one hour. Ze began to get everything he needed together so he could leave in a hurry after the job was done. He did spot a few drones, which was going to make this shot he had to take a bit more challenging. It was all about timing since he already had the perfect position. His building was outside of the blockade, which meant when he climbed into his car, he wouldn’t have to be worried about police doing a checkpoint.

He watched the event proceed and the time finally came for the senator to speak. The crowd leaped to its feet when the man walked on stage, cheering as he waved. Ze put on his leather gloves, then peered at the man through his scope. The window had been cracked just enough to allow the barrel of his rifle to take aim. His gun wasn’t sticking out of the window as that’d be too obvious. He was perfectly hidden in the shadows and the aim he had wasn’t anything straightforward. This shot would be a tricky one.

Ze tuned everything out, slowed his breathing down, and focused all of his attention on his target. The man who’d been accused of raping and molesting multiple women. On top of that, he was a bigot based on statements and his platform that leaned more toward discrimination than unity. He wondered what people would think after the senator died? How many would wonder if his assassination was political? No, just justice.

The man’s smiling face was in his sight, right between the crosshairs. Ze waited until the wind was just right, then exhaled as he pulled the trigger. He watched as the man’s head snapped back, then he dropped from the window and began taking his gun apart. He stuffed the pieces inside his Nike gym bag, then ran out of the apartment, his black cap low on his head to block his face. He removed his leather gloves as he rushed down the stairs all the way to the first floor. His gym bag thrown over his shoulder, a water bottle in his hand as if he’d just been working out. He walked out of the front door of the building that also had a grocery store and a few restaurants on the lower levels that were also open to the public. All lovely amenities for its residents.

His car was parked two blocks away because the street was a bit more crowded with the residents being at home by the time he’d arrived in the middle of the night to take his post. Ze tossed his bag in the passenger seat, then climbed in behind the wheel and drove off, taking side streets. As he traveled, he did see more police cars heading toward the direction where the convention was, but didn’t let any of that rattle him. Ze’s only goal was to get as far away from the scene of his crime as fast as possible without drawing attention to himself. He made it back to the parking lot and that was where he wiped down the stolen car and got into his own with his bag. Ze drove out of the lot and made his way to the expressway, then the interstate.

He drove for hours, not stopping until he reached his home almost seven hours later. He didn’t bother to check in with his president yet, he just needed to sleep. Once inside his apartment, he quietly entered and went straight to his bedroom. He put his bags and suitcase down and fell on the bed. Pulling out his cell phone, he checked the news to see that the breaking story was the assassination of Senator Ron Kelly. The footage wasn’t replayed because of the sensitive nature, but he’d been killed on live TV and the country was abuzz with the news. Ze sighed because it was the first time one of his kills had gotten so much media attention. Had he not been under the stress of being hunted himself, he may have opted for a less publicized killing, like taking out the senator before he climbed on his tour bus or something.

“Who are you kidding, you knew this was about to blow up as soon as you took the job,” he said to himself. Had he’d been smarter, or at least not someone who thrived on killing, he would have told the club to pass. But the challenge was what got his blood flowing because the harder the target, the better. It was a temptation too hard for him to resist, just like Colton.

Oh, god, Colton. Ze lay in bed, his eyes closed as he thought back to the moment when Colton had pinned his wrists above his head. Ze’s hand slid down his stomach, then underneath his sweat pants and boxers to grab his erection. He licked his lips and then bit them as his strokes sped up along with his breathing.

“Ahhh,” he panted as his body jerked from the pleasure. He replayed Colton fucking him, his cock driving hard against his prostate with every thrust, igniting a passion in him that he never knew existed. The ecstasy was mounting and his hand pumped faster as he worked himself to climax. He pulled his pants down enough to free his cock, then raised his shirt up just as he arched on the bed. “Fuck, ah fuck!” he belted out as jets of white spunk flew from his slit, landing on his cheek, bunched up shirt, and torso. Drops dripped on his hand as he worked his shaft, shaking as the sensation gripped him. “Jesus,” he moaned and twitched with one more stroke before he let his wilting cock go and fell limp on the bed.

His door shot open and he grabbed his gun that was under his pillow, aiming it at the intruder. “Holy shit, Zin, the fuck? I almost shot you,” Ze exclaimed, then put his gun down, his chest heaving thanks to the surprise intrusion.

“I scared you? Shit, you scared me! I didn’t know you were home,” Zindel said. He put the gun down that he’d been holding, then slumped against the door frame, his hand going to his heart. “Why didn’t you tell me you were home? Why didn’t you call me to tell me you were on your way?”

Ze fell back on the bed and slipped his cock back into his sweats and Zindel laughed.

“Oh, did I interrupt something?” he asked with a giggle.

Ze rolled his eyes. “No, I came already. Fuck,” he said, then removed his t-shirt, using it to wipe off his face and chest before tossing it across the room to the floor.

Zindel’s eyes widened when he saw all of the bandages and bruises on his brother’s face and chest. “What the fuck happened to you?” He ran over to the bed, looking his brother over.

“Ahh shit,” Ze groaned and fell back on the bed. “Listen, don’t panic. It’s not anything I can’t handle.”

“What the fuck you mean don’t panic. What the fuck, Ze?” Zindel reached over, touching the bruise on his brother’s face.

Ze took his hand and held it. “Zin, I had a run-in with a man while on the road. We just got into a fight. I took care of him. That’s why I said don’t worry about it,” he lied. The last thing he wanted was Zindel worrying about the assassin that was still on the loose. He’d insist the club get involved and Ze needed to end this on his own. “Look, I’m fucking exhausted and just want to sleep. Give me a couple of hours, yeah?”

“Are you sure everything is all right?”