26. Ares

26

ARES

" T hey took him!" the kid shouted as he barged into the tiny room they had rented.

Ares whipped his head around. What was the kid going on about?

The color drained from Ares's face when he realized that Jorge was standing in the doorway alone.

"Where's Matteo?" he shouted, jumping to his feet and taking the three major strides to the doorway.

The boy looked shaken. He shook his head, panting, trying his best to catch his breath.

"They… they took him. Some chico. They shoved him into the back of a van, then sped off."

Jorge keeled over, grabbing his knees as he continued to gasp for air. Sweat dripped from his matted hair onto the floor as his back rose and fell with each deep breath he took. The boy must have run like the devil was chasing him all the way from the shop.

Ares grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling him up so he could look him in the eyes.

"Tell me everything."

Ten minutes later, Ares was conferencing with Elijah, Chase, and his buddies from the O'Brien crew, led by Mickey and his enforcer Patrick. He needed backup and information on the guy who had taken Matteo. Chase was familiar with the man in question. He and his employer, Marc, had been working tirelessly to track down Edwin, the man he wrote about.

Ares hoped that Chase would have some additional information that might help him find where Matteo had been taken.

Judging by the severity of last night's attack and today's brazen kidnapping, it looked like this dude really wanted to get his hands on Matteo.

"Sure thing. I'll speak with Marc, see if he has any new leads that can help us with our search," Chase said, struggling to speak over all the concerned voices asking a million questions over Chase's shoulders.

Ares had a feeling he was going to get a shit-ton of strippers inserting themselves into this rescue mission.

While the boys might not be trained killers, they were bodies, and right now, Ares needed all the help they could get.

"Wait, what happened to M?" someone asked, clearly joining the conversation mid-point.

"He was taken," someone else responded.

"That fucker's going to die!" someone else threatened.

"Will you guys shut up?" Chase shouted, turning his head from the tablet to scold the room full of half-dressed guys all vying for a position in front of the screen.

"Huh, and I thought the better half's faction was a pain," Patrick said, smirking, before letting out a grunt as something hit the side of his head. "Ow. That fuckin' hurt, babe."

"As it should. Don't be talking shit about my crew," a blue-eyed beauty wearing loads of eyeliner noted. He squeezed his body in next to the Irish bad boy with black and blue hair.

On the other side of the world, Patrick and Mickey had agreed to come and help take down whoever had tried to take out Ares's friend.

"This fucker chose the wrong man to try and murder," Patrick snarled, looking terrifying as always, even over video chat. "I'm gonna bring my secret weapon."

"You better be talking about me and not your cock," Skyler threatened, glancing over at his husband, Patrick.

"Of course I'm talking about you. Who else is going to fit into all those tight and hard-to-reach places?" Patrick answered.

"You did pretty well last night getting into my tight and hard-to-reach place."

Ares glanced over at Jorge, who was sitting off-camera and struggling to hold in a laugh.

"Umm, we got kid ears over here," Ares reminded.

"What? What kid?" someone whose voice he didn't quite recognize asked over the call. Was it Levi? Or the blue-haired one?

"I'm not a kid. I'm nineteen, for fuck's sake. I'm just a little smaller than the average guy," Jorge barked.

"Oh, honey, the small ones always make the best lovers. They just always seem to try harder in bed." Another voice Ares didn't recognize. How many people were listening in on this fucking call?

"Seth, my love, watch what you say. You're going to give us a bad reputation," Mickey jumped in—another offscreen participant.

"Umm, hey. This is Levi. Seth, you and I need to be friends because you sound awesome ."

"See? Someone appreciates who I am. Levi, would love to. Send me your digits," the snarky voice added with a chuckle.

"Okay, can we get back to rescuing my friend?" Ares jumped in impatiently.

"Um, I thought Matteo hated you?" another voice asked. Ares thought it sounded like the guy with the grinning demon-faced tattoo on his chest… was it Arthur? Or Diesel? He couldn't remember the idiot's name, but the man kept calling his tattoo Bruno. The guy may have a serious drug problem.

"No. Idiot. They're fuck buddies on the DL. Try and keep up, Diesel; you're just embarrassing yourself," Jared answered.

Okay, so it would seem that Matteo's entire fleet of deadly strippers was on the call.

"You and Matteo are fucking?" Mickey asked. "Good for you, man. I heard that the guy is a hot piece of ass."

Jesus, this was getting out of control. By now, the entire world must know that he was a cock-sucking homo who loved to give it hard to sexy-ass Italian men who owned a chateau and commanded a legion of stripper boys.

"Oh, tabarnak ," Ares huffed, frustrated.

"You're Québécois?" Chase asked, suddenly intrigued.

"What? No, he's Greek," said Isaac.

"No, he's not. He's Turkish," someone corrected.

"I thought he was Spanish?" Seth asked.

"No. He's half Italian, half Jewish," Mickey clarified.

"With a French accent?" Patrick noted sarcastically, his left eyebrow raising an inch from where it normally rested.

"Boss, I think you should just end the mystery and tell us all now. Otherwise, we will never save your guy," Elijah interjected.

Ares shook his head. It was like trying to herd a room full of cats after they had rolled around in catnip.

"Fat chance. Okay, you all know what to do. I'll see you all at my facility in the next twelve to eighteen hours."

And with that, Ares ended the strangest video call he had ever hosted.