Unfinished
It had been three days, seven hours, and roughly twenty-one minutes since Christopher had left. Ricardo was certain of this because roughly three days, six hours, and forty-five minutes ago Kevin R Free had come storming into his office and demanded to know why Christopher hadn't shown up to lunch. It was three pm, and Christopher (according to Kevin) always lunched at three pm. The truth was that Ricardo took lunch at two thirty, and Christopher was free to find his own meal once the older man's was finished.
All of this was a fancy way of saying that it was currently nine forty-five and Kevin was standing outside Ricardo's office with a disgruntled look on his face. The options facing the executive were to either climb out the window and down the drain pipe, come in through the kitchen, and hope that Kevin didn't pick the lock on Ricardo's bedroom door; or he could let Kevin in. Climbing out the window very nearly won, but the thought of having to explain to Santi why he was tracking mud into the kitchen (it had been pouring all day) deterred Ricardo. The cook was a far more intimidating figure than Kevin.
Ricardo opened the door.
If the look of surprise on Kevin's was face was anything to go off of, he hadn't been expecting to get his way so easily. He stepped into the office after a moment of hesitation, suspicion flickering across his face before settling into a look of forced determination.
"Christopher was supposed to come home yesterday." The radio host set his jaw, staring Ricardo down.
"He was." The response was short, measured.
"He hasn't come home."
"The weather's been poor. I'm sure travel was delayed." Ricardo gestured to the pouring rain through the window. This was a perfectly rational response. It wasn't uncommon for travelers to hole up until inclement weather had passed; in fact, it would have been unreasonable to expect Christopher to travel in what were undoubtedly unsafe conditions.
"You sent him to see Diego." Kevin was rapidly going red in the face, words dancing on the tip of his tongue only to be swallowed down rapidly.
"I did." The executive tipped his head to the side. "Christopher travels to see Diego once a month. I don't see why this time would be cause for concern." Ricardo moved to the liquor cabinet next to the door, pushing aside earthen jars to pull forward a cut glass decanter. Amber liquid caressed the inside of the glass, easily older than both men combined. "Why don't you tell me what's really bothering you?" Kevin watched Ricardo pour two glasses and settle onto the couch. Old springs creaked sullenly, and Ricardo busied himself with his watch until he heard them creak again.
"Why do you keep sending him to Diego?" Kevin's long fingers wrapped around the glass. Pride demanded that the former radio host refuse the drink. Curiosity insisted that a sip wouldn’t hurt. He'd never had the chance to try pre-war whiskey, and it wasn't the sort of opportunity that presented itself every decade.
"Christopher is the expert in his project. It would be stupid to send someone else." The words were smooth, practiced; spoken as though the executive had been expecting this conversation. Kevin barely avoided choking on the whiskey.
"Stupid? So it's intelligent to send someone whom Diego knows he can treat however he wants, and get away scott free? It's intelligent to dangle him like a treat in front of a scientist you're trying to get results from? It's intelligent to not worry when he doesn't come home on time, when he could very well be lying tied to a sad-"
"That is enough, Mr. Free." Ricardo's voice, sharp and quiet cut across Kevin's tirade. Somewhere during the onslaught of words the radio host had risen to his feet, voice growing steadily louder.
"It's enough when I decide it's enough." Kevin retorted defiantly. The whiskey was still clutched in his left hand, his right balled into a fist and shaking. His voice dropped to match Ricardo's tone. "You may have Christopher convinced that you care for him, but I know better. I know you only view him as a tool. Something that you can whore out in order to get what you want. What's going to happen once he's too old to entice people with his pretty face? Will you find some new thing to take his place in your bed, Christopher cast to the side like so many other playthings?"
Kevin heard the glass shatter before he registered the pain. Ricardo was now standing over him, the former radio host knocked off his feet. Blood smeared across the floor as Kevin scrambled backwards, pouring freely from his palm.
Written at the request of @themoreyoustrex.
