Destiny Collides Past and Present

by J P Sayle

  Conscious he could have a tail, he skirted the building, watching. He needed to get his shit together, figure out where he was going to stay and how Joel had found him again so fast. No one knew he was in Swansea, well except his handler in High Wycombe.

  It was supposed to be a need to know basis, and no one needed to know what he was up to. Cursing under his breath, Joel appeared to have a snitch, and he had a feeling it may be his handler, he was going to need to do a bit of digging before he voiced that accusation. He just didn’t understand why the fuck couldn’t people just leave him alone? The past six months were taking their toll. Dark circles, jittery stomach, weight loss, lack of sleep, he wasn’t sure how much more could he endure. Thinking the field work would help him escape Joel, yet, he kept popping up. The fucking stalking bastard.

  It didn’t seem to matter how many times he complained, they were doing nothing, and now the attacks were getting more threatening. Joe was now convinced it was only a matter of time before Joel lost complete control. Fear skittered down his spine at the thoughts of what he would do to him before he’d finished.

  The large bag he’d spotted on the ground in the hotel room before he’d escaped had scared the bejesus out of him. Joel saw himself as a Dom, using bondage and toys. Joe had only participated twice, not enjoying the pain that Joel revelled in inflicting. Joe’s hands pushed his hair back in frustration. Why, why, why, had he ignored all the warning signs?

  Shaking off his gloomy self-recrimination, he pulled his thoughts together. Think, come on, man think, you need to come up with a plan of some sort, come on.

  A resolved expression fixed to his pinched features before a smile began to form. Martin would have recognised it instantly. Joe was fixing to pull some tricks out of his bag. Joe mounted his bike, revving the engine, letting his plans form. It was time to stop being the victim and turn the tables. The punch of power under him had his hands flexing tightly. He could sort this, no, he would sort this!

  Then he would visit Martin and figure out if Brad was worthy of his friend.

  Stuart scowled at his inflamed skin, feeling extremely tempted to itch. Three God damn awful weeks of scratching, how much more was he supposed to endure? Where the hell is my medication, he looked about the room, convinced Princess had moved it. Searching the bedside cabinet again, he was positive it had been in there. His heavy sigh whistled past tight lips, annoying him further. He tried hard not to show any reaction to Princess’s antics but this took the biscuit.

  Three weeks, twenty-one fucking days of torture, he deserved a medal for putting up with her. Waking up this morning with her curled on his chest yet again. What was it they said, the last straw broke the camel’s back, well this camel had had enough! If this had been his house, he would have bought a lock for the bloody door to ensure her scrawny ass couldn’t get anywhere near him.

  Cursing loudly when Satan’s paw, aka Princess, swiped at his hand, Stuart’s jaw ached as he ground his teeth. Stuart quietly seethed when his hand stung from the deep scratches. “What the fuck was that for?” His anger barely contained at her complete indifference. Feeling his hands fist, he moved out of harm’s way, prowling to the bathroom. Checking his hand, he ran it under the tap, worrying about getting an infection.

  “I better not get an infection. I told you if you scratch me again I was going to take you to the vet’s to get those nails clipped.” His hands waved flicking water everywhere, his temper issuing empty threats because Brad would have Martin rip him a new one if he harmed even one of hair on her tiny body. Stuart sagged in defeat against the counter, counting to ten when Princess rolled her eyes.

  He gripped the sink hard, reminding himself she was leaving this morning. Thank God, it had been a long time coming. Brad was finally getting released from the hospital, and ending his cat babysitting. He couldn’t help the glint of satisfaction in his eyes at the thought of coming home to an empty house tonight. He might check out Tinder, there’d seemed to be quite a few new hottie’s on there that were local.

  Stuart plucked at his lip, considering his last attempt. Princess had put paid to that, chasing the man’s semi-naked ass down the road, after attacking it first. His screams were loud enough to wake the dead. Dear lord, was it bad that he couldn’t even remember the poor man’s name? Stuart chuckled when images of the man’s impressive cock thwacking his legs as he’d launched himself down the stairs, trying to escape the cat attached to his ass. At least he didn’t have to pay for healthcare, so that was one consolation. Though, how that poor man would explain those injuries would have been anyone’s guess.

  Stuart consoled himself that he had offered to help, huffing in frustration as he recalled the ‘go fuck yourself’ comment before he hightailed it in his car. Stuart hoped he didn’t pass the word around that he had a manic cat that attacked his hook-ups. Stuart’s brow scrunched as the thought took root, shit, that could seriously hamper his love life.

  He met Princess’s knowing smirk in the mirror and pausing, was she purposefully cock blocking him? Stuart shook off the ridiculous thought when the sound of an engine roaring outside brought a smile to his face. Going to the window, his smile widened watching Martin lift Brad out of the car. Brad’s hands seemed to be roaming all over Martin’s body, his mouth getting in on the action, working up the side of Martin’s neck. Stuart felt the flush creep up his neck, his hot breath ghosted the window as he lent closer. Realising what he was doing, Stuart pulled back. “It would seem someone is pleased to be home, and I’m convinced,” he chuckled at Princess, “if Martin doesn’t get Brad inside soon, he is going to end up on his ass.” Forgetting his earlier angst with Princess, he grinned at her before lifting and cuddling her into his chest so she could see out.

  “Look at them, Princess, don’t they look great together,” Stuart’s envious sigh rang loudly. Absently, he stroked Princess’s silky fur, making tiny rumbles vibrate up his fingers. Stuart ignored the ache of loneliness that built in his chest, realising he would miss Princess. Though he would rather cut his own tongue out before admitting it out loud. “Come on, let’s take you back. I’m sure you’ve missed Brad as much as he has missed you.”

  Neither acknowledged the comradery between them as Stuart gently held her close to his chest, his allergies forgotten. “Let’s leave your things for now. I can come back later and take them over to Brad’s.” Speaking with affection, he nuzzled her neck, the hint of lemon not surprising as he’d doused her two days earlier after she’d brought him a dead bird.

  The loud sneeze snook up on him, shaking his large frame, “Eeeessswwww,” dislodging Princess who sailed through the air, landing with a screech. Her accusing icy blue eyes glared as she shook her body to dislodge the spray of snot. Stuart dragged a tissue out of his pocket to blow his nose, never taking his watering eyes of her, readying for any attack that could come his way.

  He tried to glower at her, failing when his eyes streamed, the sneezes came thick and fast, snot pouring out of his nose. How very fucking attractive, it was all Princess’s fault. He muttered through the sneezes, “Good riddance.” Stuart grabbed at the box of tissues on the side table before heading downstairs, looking back as he blew his red nose, making sure she followed. He internally cursed up a storm at her tiny smirking face as his shoulders shook with each sneeze.

  He realised too late that she had managed to distract him again from taking his allergy medication. Already on a mission, he headed straight for Brad’s, thumping on the door. The quicker she was gone, the better, good riddance to bad rubbish, that was all he could say. He valiantly ignored the little clutch in his belly at her not being there all the time. It was preposterous that he’d miss her. I definitely won’t, not even a little.

  He all but growled at himself for his earlier thoughts of loneliness, he just needed to convince his heart that he wasn’t missing out. Shaking of his building distress, he lifted his hand ready to knock once more. Stuart jumped back without thought when the door burst open. The long an
d loud meow had his shoulders hunching, “Oops.” The daggers she aimed at him hitting their mark as he moved his feet to avoid her tiny paws.

  Immediately he could feel his defensiveness crawl inside him, so he cast the blame where it squarely sat, Princess. “It’s your fault, if you hadn’t been so close to me then I wouldn’t have stepped on you. Surely you know better than to get so close. Where are your feline reflexes, hmmm?” His eyebrows rose, disappearing under the flop of his fringe when Princess just ignored him. What the heck, where was the outraged spitting cat? Stuart watched as she sailed past him, owning the place, her famous kiss my ass move expressing exactly how she felt.

  Martin’s laugher pulled his gaze away. “You do know you are as bad as Brad the way you talk to her. You’ll only make a rod for your own back. Give in and accept she is far more superior to you or you’ll be doomed.”

  Stuart glared at Martin as he spoke, shouldering past him when laughter followed. Martin’s opinion echoed his own, which only pissed him off more. He wasn’t for the life of him going to admit it, especially when he was feeling so put upon. Hadn’t I helped out for the last few weeks, taking care of Satan, well hadn’t I? Martin should be thanking him, not rubbing his nose in the way he spoke to Princess.

  Stuart swallowed his retort, not wanting to fight, when he saw the strain around Martin’s dark ringed, sunken eyes. Instead he enquired after Brad. “How’s Brad?” He listened for any signs of life, hearing nothing, he continued. “In fact where is he? I thought he would have been champing at the bit to see Princess.” Martin’s deepening frown had Stuart wondering what had happened since the heated embrace outside.

  “He is upstairs resting. Though it seems he had different ideas initially about what we were going to be doing.”

  Stuart hid his smirk behind his hand when Martin sounded so frustrated. He couldn’t see what the problem was, surely Martin wanted a little of the sexy time Brad was offering after the separation?

  Stuart went and sat at the kitchen table, watching Martin pace. Taking stock of the situation, he really looked at Martin for the first time since the job interview. He could see he’d lost weight, his top made it difficult to tell how much but his face was drawn and haggard. His pallor wasn’t great either. The grey tinge only highlighting his sunken dark ringed eyes, and his scruffy hair hung into his eyes. Overall, Stuart thought he looked a bit of a mess. He’d wager, looking at him, that Martin had hardly slept or eaten much in the past month.

  Stuart felt a like a selfish git for his earlier thoughts, now he was actually taking the time to see how stressed Martin was. The lively, threatening man he had met just over a month before was gone. A husk stood in his place instead.

  His pity threaded with worry for both men and what they must have gone through. “Is there anything I can do to help?” Stuart swallowed past the ball of emotion lodged in his throat from Martin’s sad smile.

  “No, what you have done has been a great help. Not having to worry about work has been a godsend. Though, I have to say, I couldn’t have mustered the energy to worry about it anyway. Brad is my main focus and will be till he is back on his feet. Even if he doesn’t want to see it, he needs me.” Martin’s dejection was hard to miss, plonking down on Brad’s kitchen chair, his loud heaved sigh broke the silence between them.

  Unsure what to do Stuart got up and paced across the floor, jangling his keys to keep his hands occupied. He fiddled, biting his lip, moving from one foot to another.

  Martin’s speaking had him pause. “For fuck sake, sit down. I’m not going to bite.”

  Stuart couldn’t stop the eye roll, but he bit his tongue to stop the sarcastic comment that wanted out. Taking a deep breath, ensuring his rising temper was strapped down. The smell of home baking assailed him, making a groan escape. Sniffing deeply, the scent of sweet ripe cherries had his mouth watering. “Dear sweet Jesus, please tell me that whatever I can smell is for sharing, cause I’m not above begging, it is smells divine.” The genuine humour he saw on Martin’s face eased some of Stuart’s own tension.

  “I, my friend, can tell you I am an amazing cook, so whatever comes out of that oven is divine. But as to sharing it, it’s for Brad, and he doesn’t like to share his dessert. You can ask him when he wakes up, but I wouldn’t count my chickens.” The ‘you’ll be lucky’ stare had Stuart grinning.

  “Hey, I could charm the wood from the trees if I have to, you wait and see.”

  Martin’s returning scowl had Stuart coughing to hide his laughter.

  “Shush, I don’t want him disturbed. Regardless of what Brad thinks, he needs to sleep.”

  Stuart noticed the laptop bag on the floor next to Martin, wondering if work would distract Martin from his worries. When Martin spoke, it was as if he’d plucked the thought from Stuart’s brain.

  “You want to get me up to speed with the outstanding contracts? Have you replaced Emma yet? Ann mentioned you and she had discussed the potential of one of the existing team moving up into her role.” Martin’s questioning glance caused Stuart’s nerves to twitch, remembering he was on probation.

  “Greg Adams, he has a real aptitude for pre-empting what is needed. He’s a little timid.” Martin’s tilted head and arched eyebrows had him pausing. “Okay, a lot timid but he has potential, he is clever and was wasted just running errands for others. I’ve had him filling in. I think you’ll be surprised at how much of Emma’s backlog he’s cleared. The Financial Service Authority sang his praises for early submission of our paperwork and its accuracy.” Martin’s surprised smile had Stuart’s nerves settling.

  “Let’s deal with the contracts first. We have had several interested companies looking for offshore investment.” Digging into the work, Stuart felt himself relax, enjoying the challenges the job was giving him. As the afternoon progressed, Stuart’s relief was palpable when Martin seemed happy with the decisions he’d made with his company.

  Strolling back towards the empty house, Stuart was unsure why he felt a little empty inside. The dark windows seemed to reflect his gloomy mood. The evening dusk offered no comfort when the breeze picked up, flattening his top against his chest. Stuart shivered into his T-shirt, picking up his pace to get out of the wind swirling around his bare arms, making the tiny hairs dance. Letting himself inside, he felt the emptiness shroud him, enhancing the feeling of coldness around him.

  He missed the warmth of Brad’s cosy kitchen and the food. When Martin had bragged initially about his cooking skills, Stuart thought he was overselling himself. But he’d thanked whatever God there was when the food met his taste buds. The buttery flakes of pastry mixed with the sweet ripe cherries and crunchy almonds, pure heaven. Stuart wondered how often he could get an invite to dinner, or any meal if they ate desserts like that every day. Though, the way he’d eaten earlier would result in him being size of a house if he ate like that all the time. He could admit, it may just be worth it.

  His contented thoughts faded as he moved through the cold, empty house. Glancing at his watch, he realised he couldn’t be bothered with a hookup. Spending several hours with love personified, kinda put his hook ups into perspective. Watching as Brad and Martin’s love for each other worked magic over Martin’s grey pallor. Each caress and affectionate gesture between them only seemed to highlight how much Stuart didn’t have in his life. The worm of jealousy had niggled, mocking the lack of intimacy his recent relationships hadn’t had. His life only seeming to offer him fake merchandise instead of the real thing he’d witnessed between two people who obviously adored each other.

  He heaved a big sigh, dragging himself upstairs, taking his phone out of his pocket as he went. Sprawling on the bed, he dialled, waiting for it to connect. The feelings that had been missing earlier filled him when his mother answered. Warmth and love made his loneliness fade away.

  “Hello, darling boy, what’s up?”

  His mother’s sweet voice filled his ear, she knew him too well. He held back his frustration at her question, attemptin
g to keep his voice even. “Nothing much, just wanted a catch-up, see how things were going there. See if you had heard anything from Bella. Is she still enjoying her trip to Europe?” He knew if he kept her distracted then she’d maybe leave him be.

  Stuart groaned into the pillow at her next question.

  “Come on, sweetheart, tell me what’s wrong.”

  How was he supposed to answer when he wasn’t sure himself? The unsettled feelings grew in the pit of his stomach made him anxious, and feel out of sorts. The words tumbled before he could stop them. “I’m lonely, Mum, why can’t I find someone who wants me for more than a few nights of fun?” His whiny voice sounded pitiful to his own ears, but he knew she wouldn’t judge.

  Her soft words were soothing, as he knew they would when he’d dialled her number. “Baby; you just haven’t found that special one, he is out there just waiting for you. Remember after your father died, you saw that man in the street that you talked about for weeks? Something sparked for you. I know you will find that connection again. I promise. But I’ve told you these things happen in their own time. But, darling, you have to stop using that horrible Tinder app if you want more than a one or two-night stand.” Her exasperation evident in her tone, even with the distance between them he could hear it.

  He would bet she was frowning as she gently rebuked him for the Tinder app. He’d bet anything his sisters had been in her ear about him using it.

  Stuart couldn’t stop the warm smile that spread across his face, regardless of his interfering sisters. He knew they loved him, so it was kind of expected he supposed. Looking up at the ceiling, he responded as he knew she’d want. “Yes, Mum, I hear you and how could I forget about him? You constantly remind me about how much I raved about him. I didn’t even speak to him.” The regret still there at the lost opportunity didn’t weigh as heavy, but it still reminded him from time to time. Trying not to think too hard about it, they spoke for several minutes catching up.