Gathering Storm

by Alexa Land

  As I returned the photo to the stack on the table, I said, “There’s something vaguely familiar about him, but aside from that, I don’t recognize this man.”

  “I do.”

  We all turned our attention to my best friend, who had whispered those two words. All the color had drained from Christopher’s face, his eyes haunted. “You do?” I asked him. “Who is it?”

  His voice sounded thin as he said, “It’s the man that raped me and left me for dead.”

  “Oh my God,” I murmured. And all of a sudden, I realized where I’d seen that face before. It was the drawing on the flyers that Christopher had been distributing around the city, just with the addition of facial hair.

  Sanchez asked, “Mr. Andrews, can you elaborate?”

  “Over a year and a half ago,” Christopher said, still in that same hollow voice, “when I was working as a prostitute, I was drugged, raped and severely beaten by one of my customers, then left in a dumpster to die. The case went cold, until today.”

  Sanchez had pulled a notebook from his pocket, and quickly scribbled a few notes as he said, “I’m going to need to access the records associated with your case, Mr. Andrews.” Christopher nodded.

  Brian, who’d been seated across the table, murmured, “That’s such a weird coincidence.”

  A cold, terrible feeling settled over me, and I shook my head. “No it isn’t. It’s not a coincidence. It’s my fault.”

  “What are you talking about?” Brian asked.

  I turned to Christopher and said, “You’re a ‘Hunter Storm type.’ Remember? You said that the night we met. You said you used to get a lot of work from men calling up your escort service and asking for a Hunter Storm type.”

  “I wasn’t working for the escort service at the time of my attack.”

  “No, I know. But still. I just have this terrible feeling that that’s why this man targeted you, because he’s obsessed with me, and you’re the same physical type.” His big blue eyes went wide, and I said, my voice breaking, “Oh God, Christopher, I’m so sorry.”

  “No,” he said, grabbing me in a fierce hug. “You have nothing to apologize for, Hunter. We don’t know why that man targeted me, and even if it somehow was part of his obsession with you, in no possible way does that make it your fault!”

  “But what if it is, though? What if that’s exactly why he did those things to you? Because he was acting out a fantasy of what he wanted to do to me?” I felt absolutely nauseous.

  “Hunter, it’s not your fault,” Kieran chimed in. “This man’s obviously a sick individual, and that has nothing to do with you. It just means that he goes after thin, blue-eyed blond guys in their early twenties.” He turned to Sanchez and said, “You’ll see this when you read Christopher’s case file, but you should know we suspect there may be other victims as well. We think he may have killed at least two people.”

  Sanchez looked surprised. “Wait a minute. If there’s a multiple murder suspect running around San Francisco, why wasn’t I and the entire police force made aware of it?”

  “Because the evidence I uncovered was really flimsy,” Christopher said, “and the police didn’t really take it seriously.”

  “What was the evidence?” Sanchez asked.

  “In the two weeks before my assault, two other boys disappeared from the Tenderloin. Both were young and blond, like me, and both worked as prostitutes. They didn’t have families, so no one missed them, except a friend of mine that works at the community center,” Christopher explained. “Oh, and both disappeared on Thursdays, which is the same day I was assaulted, so there’s a pattern. But that’s it, that’s all the evidence I had.”

  Sanchez leaned back in his chair, mulling this over. Finally he said, “I’ll do some digging, see if any missing persons might fit the pattern. I’ll re-interview the employee at the community center, too, see if that turns up anything. I assume his contact information is in Christopher’s file.”

  “It is,” Kieran said.

  “In the meantime, we have more to go on in Mr. Jacobs’ case,” Sanchez said. “We now know based on Christopher’s testimony that this individual committed rape and assault. That makes him a lot more dangerous than a run-of-the-mill obsessed fan. I’ll need to put some additional resources on this case.”

  “That reminds me. Were you able to trace the call to Hunter’s cellphone?” Kieran asked.

  “Yeah, but it was a dead end. It came from a payphone in the Richmond district. It’s hard to find many of those these days, but our suspect managed it. I’ve asked an officer to take a look at security cameras in the vicinity of Finley and Marsden, where the payphone is located. She’s going to try dusting for prints, too, but I don’t expect that to yield much, not on a public phone.”

  “Finley and Marsden,” Brian repeated. “That’s….”

  “Exactly where you and I were when I got the call,” I finished for him, feeling like I’d just been punched in the stomach. “He was so close,” I murmured.

  “Oh God,” Christopher whispered.

  I said, “I’m trying to remember where the phone booth is in relation to where we were when the call came in.”

  “Across the intersection, diagonally,” Brian said as he wheeled himself around the dining room table. He obviously could see the fear and panic building in me, and by time he reached me, I was shaking.

  I joined hands with both Brian and Christopher as I tried to think this through. This wasn’t just about me anymore. It affected my best friend, and maybe other boys, too. Knowing that made me want to dig a little deeper within myself to find an untapped reserve of bravery. I hoped to God there was actually some to find.

  I said, trying to keep my voice steady, “I hate this, I hate waiting for this person to strike, not knowing when or how it’ll happen.” I took a deep breath and continued, “So, maybe we shouldn’t wait. Maybe we should draw him out. We could set a trap, use me as bait and have the police waiting. I don’t know how we’d lure him exactly, but I’ll bet there’s something I could do to make him come after me.”

  “Hunter, no,” Christopher said. “That’s too dangerous. We need to figure out how to keep this man far away from you, not bring him closer!”

  I held my best friend’s gaze. “He hurt you, and he might still be hurting other boys. He has to be stopped, but he’s so elusive! His picture is all over town on your flyers, and yet he’s still walking around, free as can be. I’m probably the police’s best shot at finally bringing this person to justice.”

  Christopher started to protest again, but Sanchez interrupted him, pushing back from the table and saying, “I need to get back to the station, I have a meeting in half an hour. But the idea of a sting operation’s not bad, let’s give it some thought.” To Kieran he said, “Officer Nolan, forward me Mr. Andrews’ case number, and I’ll give it a thorough review. And of course, call me right away when something else occurs.”

  When. Not if.

  “I’m so sorry, Christopher,” I said as Kieran walked the detective to the door, a cold heaviness settling in the pit of my stomach. “I led the stalker right to your apartment. If he’s been following me, now he knows where you live. He might recognize you as the person that survived his attack and can identify him for the police. I put you in danger by coming here.”

  “You had no idea your stalker and my attacker were one and the same.”

  “No. But even when I thought it was just some random guy, I still shouldn’t have come here. I knew this person was unstable, and I should have led him away from my friends, not toward them.”

  “This is where you belong, Hunter, right here with people that love you and care about you.” Christopher planted a kiss on my forehead and said, “And we’re all going to get through this together.”

  Chapter Seven

  It had to be well past midnight. I was laying on Christopher’s couch, staring at the ceiling through the darkness, the apartment perfectly still. And I was listening.

 
We’re going to be together really soon. That’s what my stalker had said. He was going to come after me. And do what? Hurt me? Abduct me? Knowing what this man had done to Christopher ratcheted up my fear exponentially. Part of me had been in denial before learning that my stalker and my friend’s attacker were one and the same, clinging to the belief that this individual would never actually make good on his threats. But I now knew what he was capable of, and it was so much worse than I’d ever imagined.

  A creak sent me bold-upright, the hair on the back of my neck prickling. The building had an alarm system, so I was being kind of paranoid, I knew that. Still, I strained to listen, struggling to hold a tremor in check, to remain perfectly still, as if some prehistoric part of my brain remembered what it meant to be prey, to be hunted. Stay still, stay invisible, it said. This was the part of me that froze up whenever a threat presented itself, and I hated it.

  After a minute or two, I relaxed a bit, slowly exhaling. This building was old, it was going to creak and settle. Sounds like that didn’t mean anything. They didn’t mean that man was coming to get me.

  Another sound caught my attention then. I listened intently. After a few moments, it came again, just the tiniest cry. I was already so rattled that it was hard to process at first, to figure out just what I was hearing. When the scream came, though, I knew.

  I pushed the blanket off me and swung my feet onto the floor as the scream came again. And again. It was the sound of pure terror and heartbreak, despair in its rawest form. Brian was having another nightmare.

  I got up and padded across the living room, just as my friends’ bedroom door swung open. Kieran, half-asleep and dressed only in a pair of pajama pants, was heading toward his brother on autopilot. He’d probably done this a million times before.

  “I’ve got this, Kier,” I said, halting him with a gentle hand on his arm.

  He blinked at me and asked, “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah. You can go back to bed.”

  Kieran looked skeptical, but after a moment he said, “Be careful. Brian often wakes up swinging, he may try to fight you off. Sometimes, it’s a solid minute before he remembers where he is. And once you calm him down, get out of there right away.”

  “Why?”

  “Because,” Kieran said, “he usually needs to cry after he’s had one of his nightmares, and he can’t stand doing that in front of anyone.”

  That broke my heart, as did Kieran’s ongoing struggle to help his brother. “You’ve had a lot of experience with this.”

  Kieran nodded. “Just watch yourself. Like I said, expect him to throw a punch.”

  “Okay.”

  “Good luck,” he said.

  I started to head to the studio, where Brian’s cries had become even more frantic, but then I turned back to Kieran, who was following me. “Aren’t you going back to bed?”

  “Soon as I know you’re alright.”

  “I’ve actually already dealt with his nightmares once before. It’ll be fine.”

  “You have?” When I nodded, he said, “Well, I’ll still be right outside the door, in case you need backup.”

  I let myself into the makeshift bedroom, closing the door behind me, then turned on a little desk lamp. Brian was strewn across the futon in one corner of the art studio, tossing and turning. “No!” he screamed, one arm reaching out, fingers grasping. “No!”

  “Brian,” I said, leaning in and shaking his shoulder. “Hey. Wake up.” He was lost to his dream, though, and went right on thrashing. I shook him again, harder. His screams turned into desperate sobs, both arms now reaching out, hands grasping desperately. I yelled his name, but it wasn’t enough to cut through the terror that enveloped him.

  Finally, I made a decision and disregarded Kieran’s advice. I climbed right on top of Brian and hugged him to me. There was every chance this would result in me getting pummeled, but I just couldn’t stand to see him like this. “It’s okay, Brian, I’m here. You’re not alone,” I said, right into his ear.

  His big arms closed around me, crushing me to him. “Hunter,” he murmured, burying his face in my hair. “Hunter. I thought I lost you.”

  That didn’t make sense to me at first, but then I realized he wasn’t awake yet. I stroked his tangled dark hair and said soothingly, “I’m right here. It’s okay. It’s all going to be just fine.”

  It was another few moments before Brian awoke with a gasp, his eyes wild and fearful. He was obviously completely disoriented, dream and reality hopelessly blurred. He looked all around at his unfamiliar surroundings, then focused on my face, blinking a few times. He released me from his grasp, but took my face in his hands. And then, unexpectedly, he kissed me passionately. I totally gave myself over to that kiss, my lips parting for him as he wound his fingers in my hair and tasted my mouth.

  There was a knock on the door, and when it opened, we broke apart almost guiltily. “Oh God, I’m sorry,” Kieran exclaimed embarrassedly. “It got so quiet, I didn’t know what happened.”

  “We’re fine,” I murmured, sliding off Brian and sitting on the edge of the futon.

  As he pulled the door shut again, Kieran repeated, “I really am sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I’m going back to bed.”

  “Good night, Kier,” I called after him.

  My heart was racing from that kiss, and when I stood up, I was a little unsteady. To Brian, I said, “Okay, so, I’m going back to the couch. Call me if you need anything.”

  “Wait,” he said, before I’d even taken a step. He took my hand, interlacing his fingers with mine. “Stay with me. Please?”

  When I turned to look at him, his eyes were still haunted, and he made no effort to hide his stark vulnerability. His need for me couldn’t have been more obvious if he’d shouted it.

  I returned to his bed and his arms, and he held me protectively against his chest. It was unclear which of us was comforting the other, given the way he held me, but maybe that really didn’t matter. We both felt better, calmer like this.

  After a long pause, Brian whispered, “I always used to have the same nightmare. I’ve relived the moment I lost my legs a thousand times, the sound and flash of the I.E.D., the feeling of the shrapnel tearing into my body, the sight of the two other soldiers I was with dying right before my eyes….” He paused and took a deep breath, then shook his head as if to free himself from the memory’s grasp. After a while, he said, “But that’s not what I was dreaming about this time.”

  “What was this nightmare about?”

  “You. I was dreaming about losing you, Hunter. I dreamt that person came after you and I tried to stop him, but I couldn’t. He snatched you up and ran away with you, and I couldn’t catch him, no matter how hard I tried. I couldn’t save you. I was so useless, so helpless. What a horrible feeling.”

  I leaned back and searched his face as I asked quietly, “Do you really care that much what happens to me?”

  “Yes.” No hesitation. A simple statement of fact.

  “In that case,” I said, settling against his chest again, “we really should start dating.”

  Brian grinned just a little at that, then slid a hand under my chin and tilted my head up. His lips brushed mine tenderly. Then he ran his fingers into my hair as the tip of his tongue lightly traced the curve of my neck, up to my earlobe. He surprised me when he bit my lobe, very lightly at first, sending a jolt of pleasure through me. When I drew in my breath and arched my back, pressing my cock against him, he bit down just a bit harder, and a moan escaped me.

  When his mouth returned to mine, his kisses were hungrier, more demanding, and a tremor of desire shook me as he nipped my lower lip. I rolled onto my back and he climbed partially on top of me, his knee sliding between my thighs as he continued to claim my mouth.

  Without giving it much thought, I put my hands above my head and crossed my wrists, remaining perfectly passive beneath him. He ran his big hands up my slender arms, and when he reached my wrists, he stopped kissing me and looked up
at what I was doing. There was a question in his eyes as he met my gaze. “I like being bound,” I admitted quietly. “I don’t normally do it in my private life, because I usually have sex with strangers, and I would never trust someone I didn’t know to tie me up. But if you wanted to….” I felt stupid and needy then, and stopped talking, breaking eye contact.

  He took my face in his hand and turned it so that I was looking at him again. “Is that what you want, Hunter?” His voice was so gentle.

  “I mean, it’s up to you. This is probably already weird for you, messing around with another man and all, and if that’s just one click too far on the bizarrometer, I understand.” I started to sit up, but he took both of my wrists in one of his hands and pinned them back against the futon. I made a little mewling sound that I’d had no intention of making, and my cock twitched, which he had to have felt because he was still laying partially on top of me.

  Brian kept my wrists pinned as he raised himself up and looked around the room, then pulled the belt from his jeans, which were slung over a nearby chair. He used the belt to bind my wrists together, and the speed with which he did so was both surprising and erotic.

  I laughed self-consciously when he’d finished, and said, “Well, damn. And here I thought you might find this awkward.”

  “I prefer it, actually,” he said with a grin. “This way, I know that I’m the one setting the pace, controlling what happens.” As he was talking, he pulled up my t-shirt and ran his fingertips across my bare skin. “Just so you know,” he added, “in no way, shape, or form am I ready to have sex with you. But if you don’t mind, I’d like to explore your body a little bit.”

  “Explore away,” I said with a smile, shifting around and getting comfortable.