~~Young~~

Chapter One

   “The hell it does!”

   “Funny you should mention hell…” Gage mused as he pulled off his coat, tossing it at one of the stunned woman still clinging to Vaughn, “wanna hold that for me sweetie?” he winked at her.

   And she obeyed, the women always obeyed, with a smile no less.

   Vaughn eyed his “date” for a moment, not understanding the enthrallment, before bringing his heated gaze back to Gage who was towering above him, “I’ll give you to the count of three and you either tell me who you are or you get the fuck out of here, because after that-”

   “Hold it,” Gage said as he held up a finger, “save the bargaining for the next guy, I’m only here for one thing.”

   “And what’s that?” Vaughn asked suspiciously.

   “You of course,” Gage stated lightly as he began undoing the cuffs on his shirt.

   The sounds of safety’s being clicked off met Gage’s ears and amusement once again crossed his face, “guys, please,” he tossed casually over his shoulder, “I haven’t even done anything yet.”

   “Yet,” Vaughn spat through clenched teeth. He attempted to rise, to push the table out from in front of him but Gage’s deceiving weight held the furniture firmly in place.

   For shits and giggles he got on one of those scales outside a supermarket once, and after putting in his two quarters and stepping on it the thing promptly zoomed through its digital numbers till it read error and spat out an entire roll of blank white paper. Stepping off and looking the thing over Gage found in tiny little print “weight limit 500 pounds”. He knew human males of his size didn’t weigh nearly that much, which did leave him curious though he shrugged it off to the fact that he was, by far, not human. But he also knew it took much more muscle mass on those same humans to be able to move even that computerized scales weight limit. And though Vaughn did have some size on him, his weight was more a product of indulgent living then any sort of physical training. To him Gage was the immovable object. The rock and the hard place as it were. And upon realizing he wasn’t going anywhere Vaughn reached under the table for his own weapon, quickly drawing the gun and aiming it Gage.

   But Gage was faster. Without even looking up from unbuttoning his shirt he stepped on Vaughn’s arm, crushing bone and causing the man to drop the gun.

   “Would you give me a second,” Gage clucked his tongue, watching as Vaughn’s face grew redder and redder tying to hold in his pain, “I just got this shirt.”

   “Who the hell do you think you are, coming in here, threatening me-”

   “Threatened you, who threatened you?” Gage laughed, pulling the fabric from his arms and tossing it at the woman on the other side of Vaughn who, like her counterpart, was more than happy to play coat hanger for him, “I just dropped in.”

   He looked over his shoulder, feeling the air behind him stir a second before he was ripped from the table and dragged to the floor. Instantly Vaughn shot up, toppling the table and leaving the two women to fight over Gage’s shirt as if he was a rock star god and they groupies. Because the shirt had touched his skin, the coat hadn’t.

   Still Gage didn’t lose his cool, letting the men pull his arms behind his back, letting them think they were truly restraining him.

   Vaughn managed to find another weapon and was once again standing before Gage, the barrel tucked under his chin.

   Seemed the prick was ambidextrous, well good for him.

   “Who the fuck are you?” Vaughn demanded again.