What You See Isn't Always What You Get

299 Pages·2013·1.58 MB·English

by  Ashlin Faith

Published by Silver Publishing
Publisher of Erotic Romance
AS P B
ILVER UBLISHING OOK

What You See Isn't Always What You Get
Copyright © 2013 by Faith Ashlin
E-book ISBN: 9781614958642

First E-book Publication: February 2013

Cover design by Lee Tiffin
Editor: Erika Orrick
All cover art and logo copyright © 2012 by Silver Publishing

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This book is written in US English.

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N P
OTE FROM THE UBLISHER

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D
EDICATION

For Alison, I wouldn't have started without you
T A
RADEMARKS CKNOWLEDGEMENT

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and
trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned
in this work of fiction:

Superman: DC Comics
Midnight Cowboy (1969 movie): United Artists
What You See Isn't Always What You Get

C O
HAPTER NE

Last chance, Richard thought, hand on the dirty,
flaking door. Last chance to change his mind and walk
away. What he was doing went against everything he and
Grady had been working for, fighting for. He needed to
walk away right now.
Only then he'd be back up shit creek with no
sensible alternative, no way of making this better, no way
of keeping it secret. At least this way he would be giving a
kid a chance, setting him up for a decent life. Yeah, that
was the way to think of it. That didn't make it right though,
and Grady would have shot him down in flames in a
second.
"Fucking, fucking… fuck," he finished lamely,
hand still in place. He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly
and carefully. He'd give the kid a choice, make him an offer
like they said in the movies. If he said no then fair enough,
Richard would walk away. No harm done. At least the kid
would be a bit better off and that had to be a good thing.
He looked around him. It was the sleaziest part of
town, full of drunks and addicts, crime and hookers. Dirty
and broken. He'd be doing everyone a favor if he torched
the place and watched it burn. If this was where the kid had

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Faith Ashlin

ended up, with the kind of people who were inside, then he
was doing him a real favor. He rolled his shoulders, set his
face in a hard scowl, and tapped lightly on the door.
It was opened almost immediately by two guys
nearly as slimy and filthy as the building. They nodded at
him, backing away almost deferentially, and waited for him
to pass inside. He was hit first by the smell. It was rank and
sour, the stench of old piss and even older misery.
Paxman was sitting opposite the door in a faded
green armchair with half its stuffing missing. It seemed the
likely source of the smell. Paxman grinned, his rotten teeth
showing, trying to act bigger and more dangerous than he
was. He was a midlevel opportunist crook, all too familiar
in the chaos of the changing world order. Richard hated
him on sight. But he was useful. Grady had taught him to
remember that, until there was the time and resources to do
something about people like him, it was a good idea to keep
them where you could use them.
"Richard, good to see you, man, have a drink."
Paxman waved at a bottle of cheap whiskey. "Take the
weight off your feet."
Richard shook his head, trying to hide his disgust.
"No thanks. I believe you have something for me."
"What's the rush?" Paxman tried, but Richard's face
was set in hard lines. "Okay, okay, I'll get my boys to bring

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What You See Isn't Always What You Get

it out." With that he waved his hand and the two guys
who'd opened the door pushed off the wall and headed into
another room deeper in the building. "I think you're going
to like it." He winked, nasty and crude. "Not a patch on
Grady, of course, but I reckon this one's ripe for using."
Richard fought down the urge to wipe the grin from
Paxman's face with his fist. What the fuck gave scum like
that the right to say Grady's name or to imply Richard
would use anyone? He could do it, easy as shit, could
almost see his fist in the guy's face. But if he did that he'd
end up walking away without what he came for. He pressed
his lips tightly together.
There was a brief sound of a scuffle, then the inner
door opened again and the two men came back pushing a
tall, scruffy kid. Richard couldn't see his face. His head was
down and his long filthy hair fell over it, but there were
bruises on his wrists where the metal cuffs bit into them
and his bones were starting to protrude. This one hadn't
eaten enough for a long time and if Richard had thought the
building was filthy, it had nothing on the kid. His clothes
were thin and useless in the current cold weather, held
together by nothing but dirt, and he stank.
Richard longed to reach out a helping hand, the
same way he'd done so many times before it had become an
automatic response. But now wasn't the time or place to

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show weakness.
Paxman was talking, shooting off about the kid
faster than a flowing rapid. Richard only caught the tail end
of it. "Told you on the phone he was a fine figure. Now you
can see what I'm talking about. Tall as all fuck and muscles
on him too. Good enough for anything you want." The leer
was back, nasty and rough. Richard stared him down but
didn't say a word. "You'll be wanting to see what you're
paying for though, only fucking fair." Paxman kicked out,
his heavy boot connecting with the kid's ankle. "Boy, get
your clothes off. Let the man have a good look at what
you're packing."
Again Richard wanted to intervene, to say no. But
right now he had a part to play, and if they were all going
to get out of this safely, he had to play it right.
The kid raised his head, his long, thin face
purposely blank, and stared into nothing. He held his cuffed
hands in front of him and waited patiently, without moving,
as the restraints were removed. "You try anything and
you'll be dead before you reach the fucking door," Paxman
said as he unlocked them. The kid looked like he hadn't
heard, slipping his thin jacket and then his shirt off as
though it were the most ordinary thing in the world.
Richard knew it probably was. He pressed his lips even
more tightly together and folded his arms across his chest.

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