Page 5 of The Stallion (Men Under Revue #2)

Dallas

INITIATION: TEST THREE.

It took days for Alec to return to normal after his final face-to-face with Avery.

My father told me he had never seen Alec so worked up over what was supposed to be a simple assignment.

If Alec had taken the kill from me that night, I wouldn’t have been the only one screwed—him for fucking up my test and me for not spilling the blood required for my initiation.

I’ve learned more in the last two weeks than I ever did in the years I spent reviewing the history of the MUR with my father.

He had omitted several details about the organization, but I fully understood that it wasn’t without good fucking reason.

The big picture wasn’t as black and white as it was initially painted.

I could easily be dark, fucked up, and relentless if it meant putting more fuckers like Avery six feet under .

Fuck the moral high ground.

We were already standing at its summit.

“Wrap it up, boys; you’re done in thirty.” Alec’s voice could be heard clearly over the PA system in the main theater.

Chase, Nash, Noah, and I were rehearsing for tomorrow’s last-minute set change, with sweat soaking through our tank tops and dripping all over the stage.

We’d been at it for fucking hours, and I was ready to get the fuck out of here.

“How much longer, Dallas?” Chase probed as we all stepped down from the stage and started packing up our shit to head out for the day.

No show was scheduled for this evening, so we decided to take advantage of having the theater to ourselves for the day by practicing early instead of staying into the night.

“You’re just waiting on your third, right?” Nash chimed in, tossing me one of the water bottles we had left on ice.

I caught it with one hand, opened it, and downed half its contents before dumping the rest over my head to help cool my body down.

“Yeah, I’m so ready to be done with all this waiting around bullshit and finally be a member.”

Chase and Nash were the last two Red Magic dancers to undergo initiation.

Depending on the current number of violations against the MUR, one to three rounds of initiations can be held annually, but in the last two years, there's only been one round for each revue .

“And then Red Magic will have its first officially initiated legacy in roughly fifteen years.”

Our attention shifted to the main doors of the theater where Alec was now standing, hands tucked into the pockets of his slacks and a proud, beaming smile on his face.

It was a welcome relief to see that he was in a better mood than the last time I saw him.

“Dallas.” Alec gestured with his head into the hall, and I slung my bag over my shoulder to follow his lead.

“Looks like tonight’s the night! Kick some ass, Dallas—er… kill?” Noah laughed from behind me just before I turned the corner.

And I couldn’t help but smirk, more than ready to make this final kill, collect my ring, and everything that came with it.

“Can I assume your preferred weapon is a gun, as it was used in your last two assignments?” Alec asked as I followed him out of the theater lounge and past the box office.

We made a beeline across the crowded casino floor, heading straight toward the valet at the hotel’s main entrance.

Alec’s pacing was quick and urgent, taking long, powerful strides, as if he were in a rush to get us to wherever the fuck we needed to be.

“Alec, slow the fuck down,” I growled in annoyance as I tried to keep up with him. I usually avoided any form of confrontation with Alec. He was one of the only dancers who’s bad side I never wanted to be on, but he hadn’t even mentioned what the fuck was going on. “Where’s the fucking fire?”

Alec stopped abruptly once we’d cleared the main lobby doors, and just as I was about to catch up to his heels, he pivoted abruptly toward one of the black limousines parked in an unmarked lane.

“Get in.” He ordered, opening the front passenger door wide before rounding to the driver’s side without even so much as looking at me.

“But—”

“Get the fuck in, Dallas. I’ll brief you once we’re on the road. We need to get to the airport within the next twenty minutes.”

Well, fuck me then.

I shut my mouth to prevent provoking him further and climbed into the passenger seat as instructed.

Alec peeled out of the driveway the second I shut the door, my back and head slamming against the seat and headrest.

“Fucking Christ, Alec. What the hell?”

“Apparently, Dustin thinks he’s being fucking funny this year. Your next target isn’t just yours; it’s Heaven’s, too.”

What?

I gripped the handle above the door as tightly as possible to keep myself upright with every hard turn Alec took.

“How is that possible? If only one of us can claim the kill, doesn’t that mean—”

“That this just became an elimination test? Yeah, it fucking does, and I’m not going to be the one responsible for the death of my best friend's son. I have enough shit on my plate, and that’s the last thing I need to add to it right now.”

Holy fucking shit…

My heart started to race, a rush of adrenaline washing over me like a tidal wave, processing the gravity of my situation.

This wasn’t the first elimination in the history of the MUR, but the first in almost twenty years. They didn’t just work to ensure balance in the world outside the organization; they also had to maintain order within their internal ranks.

Every revue is allowed one protégé per initiation for a reason, and—

“Because Temptations just had to initiate fucking twins, two against one wouldn’t have been a fair fight.

So, it’s us versus Heaven, and you’re going to drag that protégé to hell by taking this target for yourself.

” Alec was fiercely determined to see me succeed, even at the cost of another dancer’s life—failure wasn’t an option.

At this point, nothing could faze me with the last two tests under my belt, but I now had to go into this last one with the realization that two people were going to die today—and not just the target.

“You do not fucking hesitate, Dallas. Do you understand me? You hesitate, they take the kill, and you are as good as dead—they don’t have to lay a single finger on you to end your life.”

"Does my father know?”

“You can tell him yourself when you walk away from this in a couple of hours.” I nodded with understanding. “Now, hold the fuck on.” Alec whipped the black, stretched limo off the freeway, heading straight toward the LAS terminal .

The combination of his hectic driving and my fired-up nerves was making me nauseous.

I needed a stiff fucking drink when this was all over.

Slowing down substantially on our approach to arrivals, Alec opened the glove box in front of my seat, pulling out a bunch of random shit and throwing it all over the floor.

He put on a pair of black sunglasses and then placed a black chauffeur cap on his head.

“I don’t think this is the time for roleplay, Alec.” I gritted out with sarcasm.

“Shut up and get in the back.”

“Aren’t you going to stop?”

“You can squeeze that tight ass of yours through the window. I sure as fuck could at your age.”

“You know… I think I liked you better when you swore less.”

“I’m not here to baby you anymore. Welcome to the Men Under fucking Revue, son. Now, get your ass back there.”

Blowing a hard breath out the side of my mouth, I did as I was told, unbuckling my seatbelt and trying my fucking hardest to squeeze through the window that separated the front and back sections of the limo.

Eventually, with a lot of sucking in, shrinking my ribcage, and nearly busting the glass panels, I fell to the floor, gasping for air like a fish out of water.

“Oh, come on, it wasn’t that hard.” Alec quipped with a light chuckle.

“I’m not fucking fifteen anymore, Alec. ”

“You’re right about that.” He joked while passing a gun to me through the window. “Do not shoot until we’ve cleared the airport; we don’t need the feds on our asses. The doors will not open from the inside, but be aware that the target may put up a fight back there.” Fucking great… “And Dallas?”

“Yeah.”

I wasn’t ready to hear any more of his witty remarks. I just wanted to get this over and done with before Heaven beat us to the target, and this bullet ended up in my head instead.

“Make us proud. No pressure.”

No. Fucking. Pressure.

None at all…

The second we reached the curb, Alec threw the vehicle into park and jumped out, taking with him a sign that I assumed displayed the name of the target we were picking up.

Please let us have beaten Heaven here…

I didn’t even know if they could interfere with us if we had gotten to the target first. Would Dustin allow violence between the revues? I certainly wouldn’t put it past him to do something so maniacal.

The waiting part of this task sucked the most. Seconds felt like minutes, and minutes felt like fucking hours. My legs bounced with anticipation as I awaited Alec’s return .

The limousine Alec had commandeered from Stardust was rigged for covert operations like this—it was one of the few MUR-sanctioned vehicles at our disposal.

Once secured inside, the targets couldn’t open the doors; someone always had to release them from the outside. This made undercover pickups significantly more manageable.

Rumor has it that the internal door locks were implemented after a target freaked the fuck out and jumped from the vehicle while it was going ninety down the freeway.

Wouldn’t that have been a sight to see?

After what felt like the longest ten minutes of my fucking life, I crawled to the far rear of the limo, hunkering down behind the bench seat in a hidden compartment designed to conceal a single body from view, adding an element of surprise.

There was only so much space in a stretched limo, and even if I were to sit up against the divider between the driver and passenger sections, I’d still be sitting in plain sight of the target.

The goal in hiding was to allow me the advantage of waiting long enough for Alec to get us off airport grounds and then put a bullet in their head before they even had a chance to notice me.

I stared mindlessly at the ceiling as I continued to wait, growing more aggravated with how fucking long this was seeming to take.

Above me was a mesh covering and a mirror that gave a distorted view of the entire interior of the limo. If I focused hard enough, I’d be able to see exactly where the target was sitting and where their attention was directed—another advantage I couldn’t afford to waste.

The audible sound of the rear doors unlocking caused my breathing to still, Alec’s subtle signal that he had the target secured with him, and we were finally ready to get the fuck out of there.

It was a relief to know he had my task in hand, but not enough to relax my nerves completely—at least now I had a fighting chance to take this person’s life and spare Alec from ending my own. There were no higher stakes than this right here.

I could hear muffled voices as the rear passenger door was opened and a dark figure climbed inside, seating itself along the side wall. Perfect.

Alec announced our departure by audibly clearing his throat before slamming the door shut and heading around the car to the driver’s seat.

This was it.

My final test and the chance to prove myself worthy of my status and new title.

I narrowed my eyes and stared intently at the mirror, watching my target closely as I felt the earth start to move underneath me.

Alec had begun pulling us away from the curb.

From this moment forward, timing was everything.

I used my vague knowledge of the roads leading away from the airport to blindly determine when I could pull myself up and take my shot.

I was never trained to memorize something as minor as the major city roads, and in hindsight, that kind of instruction would have been critical in a situation like this.

But then again, how often did someone find themselves stuffed behind a back seat, waiting to jump out and shoot someone in the head?

With every speed bump along the way, I grew even more impatient. Ready to be done before the nagging portion of my brain took hold—the part that hated the realization that I was taking an innocent life right alongside this one.

The protégé for Heaven Down Under didn’t deserve this, but neither did I—and sorry to fucking say—but I knew what my life was worth, and I wasn’t about to give it up for some stranger in a cheap light-up Halloween mask.

He knew as well as I did exactly what he was getting himself into when he started his initiation—the risks he would take with every set task.

The engine rumbled as the limo started accelerating, and I knew exactly what that meant: Do it. Do it now.

Sucking in a deep breath, I lifted my body upright, raking the gun before aiming and pulling the trigger in a single fluid motion.

No hesitation, no second-guessing.

I took my shot.

I made it fucking count.