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  Fire Inside Me

  J. Hali Steele • All rights reserved • Copyright© July 13, 2020

  Contains explicit scenes, adult language, and activity some may find offensive. Not for sale to minors.

  Unauthorized reproduction or distribution of copyrighted work without permission of publisher, HALICATS PUBLICATION, either electronically or in print, is illegal and punishable by law except in the case of brief quotations for reviews. Licensed cover material depicts an image used for illustrative purposes only.

  Cover art © 2020 Winterheart Design, winterheart.com.

  This is a work of fiction. Characters are solely products of the author’s imagination. Resemblance to actual places, events, persons living or dead, are coincidental.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Cover Story

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Other Books

  Acknowledgement

  Bio

  Cover Story

  A coldhearted murderer yearning to be had and a pretty boy who wants to have him.

  Sage Crawford makes a living eliminating people. Business is business until he contracts to exterminate a mark in his small hometown. Hasn’t been within a hundred miles of where he grew up since he left deserting his best friend whose family practically raised Sage. His idea of reconnecting nose dives when he realizes his target is the friend’s younger brother. Skewing matters, while tracking his prey, Sage begins to hope for something he has endlessly searched for.

  Emory Welton never hid being gay. His life is good until an encounter goes awry with the son of a gubernatorial candidate who wields power. The wealthy candidate will stop at nothing to be elected including keeping his son’s sexual preference concealed. Things don’t improve when Em finds himself attracted to an old family friend whose secret will devastate his family. And just when he thinks things can’t get worse, Emory is kidnapped.

  Embers smolder, sparks fly and heat grows igniting a fire that can’t be smothered before flames become all-consuming.

  Fire Inside Me rages with shades of John Wick, a pinch of Pretty Woman and a dash of 365 Days. And there’s a kitty cat! No furry animals are harmed in this book.

  Content/warning: #drama #enemiestolovers #gay #HEA #murder #romance #violence

  Chapter One

  “I

  t’s going to cost.”

  Time ticked by until, “Client’s willing to pay extra but he’s requesting a face to face.”

  Sage Crawford never met what his side of the business called an originator and that went both ways. One nor the other wished to know who sponsored another person’s demise. Too many loose ends. Sage, however, required being told why his objective’s elimination was ordered. Unlike many, he held to a few principles. “You know better.” Syl was the only person who could tie identity to a job in the United States. Remained uncomfortable with that but a controller was indispensable.

  Syl had contacts, Sage had wherewithal or, more aptly put—the guts to terminate life.

  They became familiar through a go between who had since retired somewhere in Europe. Sage personally met Syl, referred to as the conductor by operatives, once. Swept the World Wide Assets Insurance office himself before saying a goddamn word while the son of a bitch smirked. An unspoken agreement between those like Sage blanketed Syl and his four equals spread over continents from harm. WWAI had offices in Europe, Asia, South America and African which covered Australia and other island nations. Treated godlike, conductors were emphatically untouchable. Without them, operatives would be putting themselves out there without a net.

  “Craw, cut me a break.” Voice lowered. “This client was recommended by an associate having impeccable pedigree. He is shooting to the top and may require our very expensive service again.”

  Hell’s sake, the conductor was growing soft. “Have a good day, Syl.” Sage chose whether or not to accept a presented job. Ending the call, he scowled at the man tied to a pillar wired with explosives. Building would implode without harming others in close proximity. A small warehouse, it had been deserted since condos went up across the field. Sage made absolutely sure as he abhorred collateral damage. “Sorry ‘bout that.” Keeping an offender waiting amounted to cruelty. This guy, he didn’t really give a shit. “Where were we?”

  “Why am I here?”

  “Like the timepiece.” Sage removed the watch, took both rings and studied each. “Nice.”

  “Sick bastard, is this a joke?”

  “Abduction, rape, mutilation, that’s not funny.”

  “Do you know who the fuck I am?”

  “Yes.” Sage gave a cursory glance around. “Believe this is one of your properties.” Pocketed the jewelry. “We covered this.”

  “A jury found me innocent.”

  “I’m making this easy. You won’t suffer like she did.”

  “The judge said…”

  “Courts make mistakes.”

  “Son of a bitch, you better cut me loose.”

  “That’s where we were. Instead of being sorry you continue to be vile and rude.” Sage dropped the dynamite he’d been holding at the man’s feet. “Your case has been reassigned.”

  “Wait, wait. I’ll pay you more than whoever orchestrated this.”

  “I’m good.” One stick would detonate a chain reaction. He backed away, entered a nondescript rental car and pulled outside. “Here comes the judge.” Aligning his rifle scope, he aimed and fired. Boom! Driving off he heard four more explosions in rapid succession. Looking through the rearview, he watched the building disappear into the ground.

  Returned home hours later and after showering, Sage stood on his balcony in comfortable cotton drawstring pants. He looked over his property which held a beautifully appointed house no one but Wiley, an acquaintance, had had the honor of visiting. Men used for pleasure saw four walls of the motel closest to where Sage elicited services.

  Living in a pricey community suited him perfectly. Sage’s Topanga Canyon residence rivaled any of those near and by near he meant an acre away on either side. Winding access road permitted line of vision to anyone approaching minutes before they reached his private gate. Security, self-installed inside and out, was the best money could buy.

  Walking mountainous trails, he often came upon a neighbor and pleasantries were exchanged with an occasional invite to some fancy affair or charity event. To keep inhabitants from gossip, Sage made obligatory appearances and donated appropriately to whatever cause currently touted.

  Settling by the pool with a lager, his phone shimmied noisily across glass. He eyed the screen and snatched it up. “What the fuck, Syl?”

  “Big bang caused a stir.”

  “Show’s theory did not escape me. It’s over.”

  “Wonderful. I have a new development.”

  “Talk.”

  “Extra still on the table but if your pilot episode fails, he’ll pay double or nothing to prevent you from starring in anything else.”

  “The offer?” The amount pulled him to the edge of his chair. “I’ll take the part.”

  “Chester County in Pennsylvania. Script on the jet leaving Van Nuys noon tomorrow.”

  “It’s done.” No more needed to be said. His jobs had all been west of the Mississippi and Sage Crawford instantly regretted accepting. “Fuck.” He did not look forward to returning east. “I despise small towns.


  Mother and father separated when he was no more than five or six. Dad refused to let mom take his only son and they never saw or heard from her again. Samuel Crawford, a long-haul truck driver, spent days on the road leaving Sage at the home of a neighboring family who had a boy two years younger than Sage. Naturally, they became inseparable. Only difference was Russell Welton liked girls. Rusty never, ever said a cruel thing to Sage when he told him he was gay but he couldn’t protect Sage from beatings and other atrocities delivered by older, bigger and stronger boys who menaced him.

  Forced into a lonely existence, when he wasn’t at the Welton’s, Sage squandered time hunting illegally in woods off Woodward Road or just practicing with various guns from his dad’s collection. If police bothered to answer a neighboring farmer’s call, he vanished before they even got out of their cars. No road accessed the wooded area.

  Grew colder and more distant as he became older and the final straw was when one kid Sage connected with sexually was spirited away without an opportunity to say goodbye. Never knew why and he didn’t hear from him again.

  His dad, Samuel, was another story.

  Never doubted his love but learning of Sage’s penchant for boys, he set out to change him. Wasn’t mean or nasty about it but he forced everything he believed masculine upon his son in an attempt to convert Sage. Sports, mechanic’s work, hunting—manly things. Sage became an excellent marksman and actually looked forward to shooting beside his dad when he was around. Few months after Sage graduated, his father died suddenly of a massive heart attack. Surprised him the old man had a decent insurance policy. Left every penny to Sage.

  At eighteen he quickly packed and escaped the tiny town he grew up in leaving Rusty, the only real friend he’d ever had, behind.

  Able to handle any kind of weapon, little did he know what it would lead to.

  Reaching Los Angeles, he accepted a job in a gun shop where he met Wiley, ten years his senior, who took Sage under wing and, becoming his benefactor, he introduced Sage to the profession of gun for hire.

  Wiley also introduced him to Syl.

  Sage, not expecting much from life, never looked back.

  “A visit home is overdue.” Might be what he needed. “Who the fuck am I kidding.” Last thing he wanted to be reminded of was what little happiness existed in his life. As his line of work grew and he moved away from the city of LA, Sage discontinued sending Rusty occasional greeting cards. It had been three, four years. Now he wondered how the Welton’s had managed.

  Emory Welton relaxed in his latest conquest’s bed watching him tug on pants. “Big ass looks good.”

  “Maybe I should start wearing skirts.” Man shook his butt at Em.

  “If that were the case, I wouldn’t be here.”

  “Always the tough guy. Know you’re dying to have this ass again.”

  Hadn’t slept with the same guy twice since entering West Chester University’s hallowed halls. Not that he’d slept with many…okay, he was a whore but he had a reason. Two reasons actually. First, Em’s financial situation didn’t include a campus lifestyle. Sleeping with those that could afford it provided Emory the ability to take some advantage of university life coupled with freedom that accompanied the experience.

  Second, Emory was a whore.

  “That’s not going to happen, Jeff.” When he chose to screw a man, Em made it plain there would be no attachment. Bastard was a good lay. However, plans to escape small town America, business degree in hand, did not consist of dragging someone along or carrying any baggage other than what held his meager wardrobe. “Plus, daddy’s shipping you off to Temple next week.” Only reason Em gave in to the football tight end after they’d enjoyed lunch. No classes and a practice looming, the man would soon be on his way to meet team mates and out of Em’s life.

  “An idle threat he uses often to keep me in line.” Jeff finished dressing. “Graduating in Chester County instead of Philly will immensely please my father’s monied constituents.”

  Shit. Em scooted up against the headboard. “Guess I’m lucky my parents accept who I am.” Had no idea what it felt like to have a father like Jeff’s. First time he’d accepted Jeff’s coaxing into his bed but Em knew all about his father. Whole campus, hell, every voting age resident in the state was aware who Jeffrey R. Farrington was. Only child with old family money and mores, man was richer than freshly manured Lancaster County farm dirt and he was running for governor of Pennsylvania. Plenty reporters digging into his life yet nothing discovered stymied the candidate’s bid for office. Huge lead in the polls, Mr. Farrington was already touted as the next governor. Em was positive he wouldn’t stop there. Unfortunate because, though he smiled at cameras and in everyone’s face, talking with his son, Emory became aware he was no friend of the LGBTQ community. What else lurked behind the man’s fake façade?

  “After practice?”

  “Nope, dinner with my folks.”

  “Then?”

  “Jeff, honey, one and done. Said you were okay with that.”

  “We’ll see.” Innocent grin stretched pouty lips. “Lock up on your way out.”

  “Bye, Jeff.” Door closed and Emory flew up and headed to the shower. His mom would chew him out if he held up dinner on family night. Hell, maybe he’d give the star football player what he wanted. “One more run at your tight end.”

  Entering his house, Emory heard pots and pans clatter in the kitchen where his mom and sister-in-law, Madeline, talked. Stomach growled as the delicious smell of roast assailed nostrils. Heard a stranger’s voice and Russ, Em’s brother, laughed at whatever he’d said. Spinning into the living room, Em was attacked by his nephew plowing a shoulder right into his crotch. “Ow, ow, fuck, RW.” So damn many Russell’s, they’d resorted to using initials for Russell the third. Not hit hard enough to feel like vomiting but hard enough to protectively cup his nuts.

  “Hey, Em, language.” Russ glared.

  “Sorry. My balls having a serious headache should buy me a pass.”

  “Look, look, daddy, Uncle Em is touching his goody balls. I’m telling mommy.” RW tore off toward the kitchen.

  “Damn it, I’d better follow and explain to Maddy how he knows about those balls.” Spun in the doorway. “Knowing you were stopping by, I bought a whole case of Yuengling. I’ll grab another.” Eyed Emory. “You wouldn’t remember Sage. He left when you were a tot.”

  “Tot! Don’t hate mommy’s wonder child." Zeroed in on Sage. "But he’s right. Were I older, you’d have been hard to forget. You are a big one. The man his brother left him with was absofuckinglutely hot! Em had no shame; he brazenly ogled him. “Didn’t know Russel had good-looking friends. Well, didn’t hang out with him due to age and very distinct differences in companionship.” Short, dark, dark blond hair, a close groomed beard, and muscles that twitched beneath a fitting vee neck tee that failed to hide a winged tattoo. “Sage is an odd name.”

  “Emory isn’t?” Big hand wrapped his beer bottle and carried it to his mouth.

  Oh, those lips. “Touché.” Recollected mentions of this guy. Particularly when Em discussed coming out with Russ. His brother never expounded on that story though there were pictures in an album of a gawky kid captured close up staring into the camera. Gold flecked, green eyes cynical and…disillusioned. An emotion Em recognized. “Where you from?”

  “Here.”

  “Man of a few words. I know you’re from here. Duh.” He immediately liked him. Definitely my flavor. “I meant, like, where do you live now. Personally, I can’t wait to be away from Coatesville. Is that how you felt? What are the wings attached to?”

  “My chest.”

  “You are bad. I like tattoos but I’d never get one.” What if his recollection was wrong? Em’s gaydar zinged the bell hard. Sage oozed strength and the way he eyed Em, shit, he’d shave his head if he was mistaken. One night. “I adore my body picture free.”

  “On others they’re fine?”


  “Ooh, a whole sentence.”

  When Sage stood, thick thighs bunched in jeans. “Tell Rusty I’ll be in touch.”

  Rusty? “I’ll show you out.”

  “Practically lived here; I can find the door.”

  “Smart ass. I’m being polite. If you lived here, you know my mother, she’d expect it.” Em edged close enough to get a whiff of expensive cologne inconsistent with Sage’s outfit. Couldn’t resist running a finger along the tee shirt collar. “I’d liked to see it.”

  “Young man, nice meeting you.”

  “Hopefully, we’ll meet again.” He winked. “My young ass could probably teach an old man like you a thing or two. I like taking big ones.” Running a finger down his chest. I really want to see your wings.”

  “Em, what the hell?” He hadn’t heard Russ pop back in. “God, you’re a whore.”

  “Don’t be crass, Rusty. I’m saying good night.”

  “Sage, who’s like a brother, is the only one who called me that.” Eyes narrowed. “Back off, Emory.”

  “Hmm, thank goodness he’s not my brother.”

  Maddy interrupted, “Russ, Em, ready? Won’t you stay, Sage?” She proffered a beer.

  “No thanks. Another time.”

  “Come on, Em.” Russ took Maddy’s hand. “Dinner will get cold.”

  “I’ll be right there.” Couldn’t take eyes off the big man. “Stay so I can get to know my brother’s other brother.”

  “Your dinner grows cold.” Fire brewed in green eyes that raked Emory’s body. “For the record, I don’t want to be your brother.” Sage pivoted and escaped further inspection.

  Oh. My. God. I want to taste that.

  Chapter Two

  A

  lways examined the package right away. Not this time. Sage had done something he’d never considered before—he pretended to be untethered to a vile lifestyle. Visited Rusty straightaway in hopes of reliving moments of… Shit, he had never been content as a kid. However, small joys were tied to his friendship with Rusty and his family.