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Vengeance	By : Tragictales Category: Individual Celebrities > Orlando Bloom Views: 1320 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know Orlando Bloom. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Jared glared out the window of his penthouse. His eyes uneasily surveyed the streets. The glass was bulletproof and placed in every window of his home. He‘d made sure that only the best put them in to insure his safety, something that he was surprisingly finding no comfort in. His fingers undid the cuffs on his shirt then rolled the sleeves to his elbows.

“Ya aren’t the sharpest knife in the drawer are ya?” A gravely voice invaded his thought. Jared feigned innocence.

“Whatever do you mean Colin?” Jared asked turning around to face his living room. Colin Farrell sat in one of Jared’s plush wine colored chairs, an expression of mild amusement on his face. His dark eyes bore into Jared’s almost making him shiver with the added intensity. When they were children Colin had always been able to see right through him and for that Jared was torn between loving him and hating him.

“Come off it Jared,” Colin said not taking his distrusting gaze from Jared’s rigid form. “You’re getting sloppy.”

“Someone needs to be reminded that they are not as untouchable as they believe,” Jared said. He stepped away from the window and walked towards his personal bar.

“Wine?” Jared offered in a polite tone and he could hear Colin shift in his seat, his clothing ruffling as he moved.

“Ya know what I like,” came Colin’s response. Jared poured them both a glass of whiskey. As he handed one off to his companion he was careful enough to make sure his fingers drifted across Colin’s quickly before he sat down across from him.

“I do know what you like,” Jared said after taking a drink from his glass.

“I don’t particularly like bein’ shot at,” Colin replied bluntly. “It’s not the most pleasant thing in the world.”

“I know,” Jared said sipping his drink. “But I also know there aren’t many things that don’t please you.”

Colin rolled his eyes and downed the liquid in the glass. Jared could sense the shift in their conversation towards a more frustrated stance. He followed Colin when he stood and started for the door. Jared quickened his pace to catch up, succeeding before Colin reached the door. His arms slid comfortably around Colin’s waist pulling him back and halting his steps.

“You can’t honestly think that hit was meant for you,” Jared said and when Colin didn’t answer him he held him tighter. “Colin?”

“It’s difficult to say these days. You’re so anxious for power I can hardly tell what’s goin’ on in that head of yours,” Colin responded shrugging Jared off of him. He turned to look into the eyes of his oldest and dearest friend the closest thing to a better half he would allow himself. Jared stared back fingers itching to touch and to soothe. How many nights had they spent together? How many times had they almost been discovered? Now he questioned his loyalty?

“Who was it meant for?”

“You know who,” Jared answered, not leaving any room for either of them to move, to run from this. Instead he stepped closer almost hovering over him.

“If I’m right then you’re in a whole pile of shit you may not be able to get yerself out of,” Colin said his eyes widening in disbelief.

Hans worked up the courage to glance at Grazer as the driver took them further out of town. The old Boss had surprisingly stayed awake during the trip looking anxiously out of the windows as they went. Hans wondered if he knew the situation at hand and where he really stood with the other crime lords.

“Why do you say that? I’m simply trying to speed up an eternally slow process,” Jared said pressing forward. Colin took a step back rubbing his temples.

“You always were an impatient lover,” Colin spat and Jared mocked a hurt expression, “as well as an impatient first in line.”

“It has to happen!” Jared exclaimed now losing his firm stance in the face of Colin’s disapproval of his plans. “Besides don’t you want to have me by your side?”

Colin sighed walking around Jared to pour himself another drink. “I’d rather you wait yer turn than ta create an all out war between the families.”

The black car came to slow stop after turning off the road and traveling further down another alleyway. Their location wasn’t too far from the mansion Boss Maddox owned and their original destination. Maddox glanced between the two bodyguards eyes questioning but never asking out right. Out of habit he twisted the gold ring on his left hand, the heavy piece of jewelry digging into his skin. He’d outgrown it, his fingers finally becoming plumper than when he’d been when he bought the thing. Its emerald gem sparkled in the moonlight that flooded in through the back window bringing to light the engravings made on the gold band. It would go to whoever succeeded him when he died. After a few moments the realization of his predicament crashed down upon his shoulders and his eyebrows drew together furiously.

He was with those whom his most trusted believed to be good men and no one knew where he was. He’d become too lax in his security. Through the rearview mirror Boss Maddox could see the eyes of his driver. The man looked petrified to move, especially now, while his soon to be former employer glared accusingly at him.

He looked too terrified to act as he should or to even speak. After a few moments he looked away concentrating on the gloves he wore whenever he drove. Maddox couldn’t muster any pity for the man. He would pay. They’d all pay.

“There will always be war, Colin,” Jared reminded him. “There will always be greed between us. Over territory, money, venues.”

“Ya still don’t understand this,” Colin said. “Ya talk ta me like we’re children playin’ a game. This is more deadly.”

“Do you think I don’t know that?” Jared asked.

“I don’t know what ya know.”

Hans was the first to exit the car pulling the elderly man with him. His hands were rough and his actions almost confident. Boss Maddox smiled at this knowing the man would regret his arrogance sooner than later. Grazer came after them slamming his car door shut ignoring a general rule of secrecy.

He was surprised when the Boss didn’t put up a fight. He’d expected the randy old man to fire back and try to call for help, anything but this unsettling calm he exuded. He knew he was going to die. He knew there was nothing he could do about it. But was it that simple?

“Ya ‘ave ta call this off,” Colin tried to reason with him. He stared at Jared’s back watching his shoulders rise then fall in a shrug.

“I can’t,” Jared told him, turning to him with his hands raised and his palms showing. “What’s done is done.”

“How can ya say that?” Colin shouted. “After all our fathers ‘ave worked for, yer willing to throw it all away because you don’t feel that yer time is comin’ fast enough?”

“It’s not all black and white, Cols!” Jared’s voice rose above his. At the use of the pet name Colin stopped his tirade and just shook his head.

“Why did ya invite me here?” Colin asked straight forwardly, keeping his stormy gaze on Jared’s rather surprised blue eyes. He paced back and forth his brows knitted together while he considered the reasons, trying desperately to see beyond the obvious. He came to a halt after a few moments passed without a word from Jared. “Why?”

“I guess you could say it’s because I want the best for you Colin,” Jared answered him ignoring the snort he heard as a reaction. He took slow and deliberate steps towards Colin his eyes wide and seemingly innocent. “You have a choice to make. It comes with the territory of our work as I’m sure you know.”

“And what might that choice be?” Colin asked as Jared neared, stopping only when he was but mere inches a way. The smell of his cologne was intoxicating along with his presence, forceful yet so unsure of himself. Colin understood this game very well. They’d gone through this before and it would have been sweet had the stakes not been so high. Jared was searching in his own twisted way for his approval. The Irishman feared that he was the only person left for Jared to seek approval from and if that were true they could all be in a world of trouble.

Since he’d known Jared the older man always wanted bigger, better, more. Anything he could get his hands on that was something no one else had he wanted. Colin used to believe he wasn’t one of those objects. His pulse quickened while Jared’s hand rested on his forearm dragging down to his hand.

“You have to decide whether you’re with me or whether you’re with them,” Jared said. “Because the lines will be drawn and my plans to set everything in motion have already been carried out. It’s already done.”

Grazer turned the knife he held in his hand over and over, a gift from his father when he was younger. A nine-inch blade, the sharpest he’d ever seen glinting in the darkness smiling up at them. He found the moment he looked up from his weapon and into the eyes of his victim that he could only look away as he thrust the blade forward piercing clothing and flesh, drawing a short gasp of pain from the old man. There were no words exchanged while he finished his work, only the man before him gasping for breath and hissing after each gash he made. He was finally allowed to sink to the ground his eyes opening and closing rapidly.

Hans walked quickly back to the car, opening the passenger side door, calling out when Grazer hesitated. He stood there as the old man bled to death, his eyes finally shutting after a few moments time.

“Come on!” Hans whispered harshly. Their job was done and now it was time to collect their generous reward. Grazer rushed then and climbed into the backseat trying to find anything to clean the knife as they backed out of the alley and took off.

“Ya know, Jared, they never found the man that murdered my father,” Colin said straightening himself then stepping around his friend he laughed while he walked to the door.

“I shouldn’t even call them a man. What coward would murder a man while he sleeps? What kind of person does that? Do ya know Jared?” Colin said. The American shook his head.

“I’m truly sorry about your father,” Jared said. “I wish there were more we could do to further the investigation.”

“Yeah,” Colin said pulling open the door and checking the guards as they patted him down his own bodyguards quickly attaching themselves to his side.

“I’m sure ya are.”

*** *
Orlando drove past the gates of Maddox’s mansion an hour later not exactly knowing whether or not he should be glad or wary of what he steadily approached. At the gate he’d been told that the police had gone and come back several times causing a mass exit of most of their men. He knew he had to get Eric help, a hospital wasn’t an option and he wouldn’t forgive himself if something happened to him because he was too headstrong in his work to consider his partner’s health. He pulled out his phone trying Hans’ cell phone for the third time that evening. He’d come up with nothing and with that his heart sunk. Something was deathly wrong if his men weren’t answering him.

He only trusted three men beneath Maddox, Eric, Hans and Grazer, and it was highly unlikely that any of them would refuse his calls. Especially the two who most wanted to increase their ranks within the faction. He’d promised them once when he was training them that if they did as he told them they could one day stand where he and Eric did. Their enthusiasm as of late had been waning.

Orlando glanced to his right as he drove around to the back of the house, coming to a stop beneath an extending canopy connected to one of the back doors. Eric’s head rested against the window, his eyes closed, his breathing even. Orlando reached out to run his fingers across Eric’s high cheekbone feeling along the rough texture of his skin so much like his own. Eric jolted awake, his eyes wide and dancing from one direction to the other, always dancing. Orlando stroked his cheek again to calm him.

“We’re back,” Orlando said, glancing to the back when he heard several hard knocks in the trunk rocking the car where their friends from the club currently rested.

“”Uhmmm,” Eric groaned rubbing the bridge of his nose as Orlando climbed out of the car. The back door opened and two men stepped outside keeping their eyes to the ground. Orlando failed to notice while he walked around to the trunk of the car tapping it in signal that they had company. He pulled open Eric’s car door to help him out making him lean on him with his good side while they walked inside. He shouted thanks to the two men who surprisingly didn’t answer. He didn’t take it to heart keeping his concern on one getting Eric to their live-in physician and two finding out what the hell had happened to Hans and Grazer.

From the back door they walked haltingly down a hallway leading them past the kitchens and the servant’s quarters. They made a left working their way down another hallway to the physician’s room. The door was closed and with his free hand Orlando knocked hard a few times. Instead of the usual crashing noise heard when they disturbed him late at night the door opened, squeaking as Dr. Davies appeared with not even a hint of his normal disapproval in his eyes. Even Eric in his uneasy state noticed how quiet things had gone since they arrived and Orlando found him staring at him with a little more than worry in his dark eyes.

“He’s been shot in the shoulder, I’m not sure if the bullet went completely through but he’s in bad shape,” Orlando said hoping to spur the man into action. Contrary to his expectations the man looked more distracted than before. Orlando looked him up and down frowning at the way he hid his hands.

“What’s the matter with you?” Orlando said a bit louder than he’d spoken before. “I just said, Eric’s been shot!”

Orlando pushed past him into his suite helping Eric to a couch and turning around to see that the doctor hadn’t moved. His head slid to the side as he approached him again taking in his disturbed appearance and hissing at the sight of blood on his hands.

“I tried,” Dr. Davies said. “I can’t be…I…just tried…”

“What did you try?” Orlando asked approaching him now with caution unsure as to who the blood belonged to. The doctor shrunk in his presence.

“Please have mercy,” he begged. “I tried.”

Orlando reached him, his hand clamping down on his shoulder to shake him. It worked enough so that he at least noticed Eric wasn’t doing too well. Orlando pointed back to his partner making sure he made eye contact with Dr. Davies before he spoke again.

“I need you to take care of him for me. Can you do that while I figure things out?” Orlando asked slowly. Dr. Davies nodded hesitantly. “He’s been shot in the shoulder. I’m not sure if the bullet is still lodged or if it was a clean shot. I need you to make sure he’ll be alright, okay?”

Another nod followed and Orlando took a deep breath returning to Eric’s side to kiss his forehead before striding purposefully out of the room. He ran his fingers through his shoulder length hair while he made his way down the hallway. The hallways were deathly quiet even as he approached the lounge where many of his men chose to relax in the evening hours.

As he came further down the hall he heard low voices occasionally rising with anger then settling down once reminded of the noise level.

“That still doesn’t mean anything.”

“How’re we supposed to explain this?”

“I for one don’t care how we tell him. We need to start thinking of who is going to be in charge now and I think--”

“Think what?” Orlando questioned as he approached the study where the hallway ended. Inside the room was a long conference table, a few well cushioned chairs set off to the side and several shelves of books lining the walls. Orlando’s eyes slid across each man that sat at the table. The most current speaker was still standing his eyes making a mockery of the phrase ‘deer in headlights’. These were all high-ranking men in Boss Maddox’s faction, men that had both come with him from the beginning and were deemed important after his success.

One of those men happened to be Bernard Hill, Maddox’s oldest friend. He’d started this business with Maddox and the affection they seemed to show for one another warranted such occasions as Bernard’s sudden absence from his side. An absence that lasted for four years from what Orlando could remember. He and Bernard never did find that level of respect for each other. There had always been, and Orlando suspected there always would be, resentment. Out of respect for Maddox, Orlando had backed down on his distrustful tirade and Bernard had the same respect from what Orlando could infer.

Bernard sat back in his seat after being cut off, glancing away from Orlando and pinching the bridge of his nose between his index finger and his thumb. His hair was gray and receding, the lines were criss-crossing his face dedicated to showing his age. The most intriguing and, from many a stand point, disturbing point of Bernard’s face had to be his eyes, sometimes full of compassion but more than often darkened to a burning passion and an affinity for being the cause of pain for others.

Orlando circled the table becoming increasingly worried as each man looked away. “How’s Maddox? I haven’t been able to reach Hans and Grazer.”

“They’re here,” someone said from the far end.

“And Maddox?” Orlando asked an uneasy feeling creeping deep into the pit of his stomach shaking him invariably. Silence was his answer and so when he came to Bernard again he stopped, leaning on the corner beside him, lowering himself so they could be on eye level.

The sadness that he found there was not comforting. Every part of him screamed for there to be no truth in the way Bernard looked at him. As if some terrible event had occurred that would shatter him. There weren’t a lot of things that could make Orlando inconsolable. Losing Eric was high on that list. Even then his mind wandered back to him. And then there had been the unfortunate death of his mother.

Bernard tried to look away from him but Orlando cleared his throat, holding his attention for a few moments more.

“What’s happened?” Orlando asked in a forcibly low tone, any more and he worried his voice would crack. He knew these men well and if the worst had occurred they would fault his tears. His pride would allow no such thing.

“Maddox did not come back with them,” Bernard said slowly his voice sounding more metallic as he spoke. “His body’s been taken in for a full autopsy.”

“How?” Orlando asked feeling the emotions rise. He swallowed back his tears, nodding as he did so. He stepped away from the table and closed his eyes, letting Bernard’s words drift over him.

“He was left to bleed to death in the alley a few streets down. He’d been stabbed several times. Everything he had with him earlier was still on his person, meaning…”

“He was not simply mugged for cash or valuables,” Orlando finished for him. “He was murdered.”

“Y-yes,” Bernard said uneasily. “He was murdered.”

A sob escaped his throat as Orlando sighed heavily. His hand clamped over his mouth and his fingers closed around his lips pulling the moisture along with the cover.

‘Control it,” a voice inside him urged. ‘Control it!’

Orlando held back his hurt, his guilt, his grief replacing it all with the burning anger that left him trembling. His fingers itched and the hairs on the back of his neck rose when he turned back to the table, fists now clenched at his sides.

“Hans and Grazer,” Orlando managed. “You said they came back. Do you know why Maddox didn’t return with them?”

“No,” Bernard said. “We haven’t been able to--”

“Where are they?” Orlando cut him off again.

“I…” Bernard began. “You can’t see them Orlando. They must be questioned first and the police will be looking for them.”

“You must have misunderstood me Bernard,” Orlando’s said coldly. He leaned in closely to Bernard’s face almost touching noses with him. “I want to know where they are and it would be in your best interest to tell me.”

“They’re in the basement,” someone said down the way. Orlando didn’t care to look and see who had spoken.

“The basement?” Orlando questioned, straightening. Bernard glared at him, a reasonable enough answer. Orlando walked to the door not bothering to voice his opinion on the final question raised before he arrived. “I’ll question them myself.”

“Orlando you can’t!” Bernard’s panicked voice cut him off causing him to turn around to look at him. Bernard almost choked on his resolve once Orlando’s cold gaze rested on his face.

“And you’re going to stop me, then?” Orlando asked with raised eyebrows. He glanced to the rest of the table every man finding some way or another not to look at him and laughed darkly.

“Is there anyone else who feels the need to stop me?” Orlando asked. “Anyone at all?”

When no one responded he nodded and looked back at Bernard. “Good, I’d hate to have to kill any one of you. But if you do persist and try to stand in my way…”

Orlando nodded then pulled open the door and slammed it shut then headed back down the way he came, murderous thoughts running through his mind.

*~*~*

Eric’s body jolted to attention when he heard his bedroom door open and close. After Dr. Davies had treated him, he was helped up to the bedroom he and Orlando shared then poured into their bed. He blinked rapidly trying to adjust his sight to the darkness, succeeding enough to see who he hoped was Orlando stumble through the room. Eric watched as he entered the bathroom hands slipping on the knob so much that he cursed loudly.

A stream of light spread across the bed, dimmed only when Orlando shut the door as best he could for the moment. A few toiletries scattered across the floor followed by another string of colorful curses. Fully awake now, Eric inched on his good side towards the edge of the bed, pausing to sit up and plant his feet on the floor. The cool air hit his skin making the hairs rise and goose bumps run rampant across his uncovered body. He glanced at the clock on his nightstand, the orange numbers reading 4:00 a.m. It was morning and Orlando was just getting back in?

Eric haltingly made his way to the bathroom, purposely keeping his injured arm close to his body to prevent more damage or pain. The last thing he wanted to do was aggravate his injury to the point where he’d have to stay home. That would be real hell for him. He could hear the shower running halfway to the door and when he arrived at that point he reached for the knob out of habit.

He gasped at the wetness he found, sticky and thick, the scent of it attacking his senses, almost making him gag at the unexpected find. Alarmed he pulled the door opening hissing at the bright light. He barely gave himself time to adjust before stepping inside. Their bathroom was larger than most, specifically redone to accommodate two men. On one wall there was a long mirror and a cabinet, beneath that was a sink. There was blood there too, smeared across the white marble in the shape of a handprint with thin fingers. Eric’s eyes followed the red trail to the shower opposite the sink where more blood poured from the body inside then drifted down the drain. He watched for a moment stunned by the sight of shaking shoulders and the sound of heart-wrenching sobs.

“I can’t get it off,” Orlando muttered in between gasping breaths. He rubbed his hands furiously trying to remove the blood that had dried. Eric’s heart broke just watching him finally give in and lean against the wall. Ignoring the bloody water that spilled onto the floor due to the shower door not being closed, Eric stepped forward carefully climbing into the shower coming close to where Orlando stood. His hand stretched out, hesitantly ghosting over his skin.

“Orlando?” He tried, taking in a deep breath when Orlando didn’t answer. Eric’s hand moved from his shaking shoulders to the fist against the wall.

His large hand covered the thinner fingers pulling them from the fist to stretch along his. Eric pressed his body to Orlando’s back, surprised at the tremors and dropped his chin to Orlando’s shoulder. The younger man twisted in his arms and for the first time since Eric met him he truly was taken aback.

Dark smudges lined his face beneath his tired looking eyes. His cheeks were streaked with a combination of the water and his tears, lines evident against the dirt and the blood. His lower lip had been split from either someone hitting him or his own devices. He looked exhausted, more so than Eric had ever seen him, and when he slipped Eric held him close wrapping his arms around his midsection to keep him standing while he checked him over. There were no cuts, only bruises from an apparent fight. After he was through making sure the blood had not come from any part of Orlando’s body he looked wholly in his eyes, feeling a deep unrelenting sadness over take him at the sight.

“What happened down there?” Eric asked patiently waiting for him to muster the strength to speak.

“I came…I saw…Bernard, he told me…” the words spilled brokenly from his lips. Eric shook his head confused.

“Told you what?”

“Maddox is dead.”

Eric swallowed hard knowing what it meant for himself that the man had died. He’d pulled him from his old life, when he was twenty five and going no where fast except for jail. He hadn’t believed that there was anything else out there for him professionally or personally considering he was the outcast of his family, and love was a distant dream for him. Until Maddox found him and turned him into the man he was right then at that moment. He also knew what it meant for Orlando.

“Your father died,” Eric whispered feeling him nod against him.

After all the things they had been through together, training, ‘keeping the peace’ amongst the faction and being Maddox’s equalizers. They’d survived a hell of a lot for the two bloodthirsty men the papers depicted them as. If there was anything he could do to correct this one wrong for Orlando he would give his life to do it. Sadly enough there was nothing he could do but hold on to him while he cried. It was much more than that he understood. Much more than a few tears falling. This was a breakdown of sorts, an entire large chunk of his life crashing down upon him, crushing him beneath the emotions and the politics Eric knew would follow.

“He was—and I,” Orlando tried to continue frustrated when the words wouldn’t come to him at all. “Fuck!”

Orlando struggled against him for a moment eventually knocking Eric’s bad shoulder and drawing a badly concealed hiss from the man. At that Orlando stopped, noticing for the first time Eric’s bandage.

“Shit, it’s going to start bleeding again. I’m sorry I shouldn’t have,” Orlando tried to apologize and Eric silenced him pressing a small kiss to his lips. Without another word they both set themselves to cleaning the rest of the blood away, a million questions running through Eric’s mind as to where the blood came from. He had a feeling Orlando didn’t have the strength to answer him and worried that questioning would risk another break down.

Once they were finished they climbed out of the shower, drying themselves quickly with the towels hanging on the opposite side of the room. As they crawled into bed together Orlando tried again to explain, only to be met by Eric’s quiet tone of voice. The Brit curled around him, wrapping his arm around Eric’s waist as they pressed together, feeling each other.

“Tomorrow,” Eric soothed him, not falling asleep himself until he was sure Orlando had drifted off behind him.

‘Tomorrow’
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Vengeance