Dangerous Love...

by Heather Mar-Gerrison

  Chapter 7 – Reporting an incident...

  Mason

  I hadn’t heard from Hendrix in a few days, which was pretty normal but it never went past Sunday... Every Sunday since we first met he’d arrived at the house at around seven thirty in the evening.

  He’d been acting pretty weird last time I saw him too, which was really beginning to freak me out. Where the hell was he?

  I decided to go around to his bedsit to see for myself what was going down.

  I had no idea if his cousins would be around, but they didn’t know anything about me. I’d just take a veggie box round with me and pretend to be a delivery boy...

  I knocked on his door but there was no answer. No one was around so I tried the door and found it open. Fuck... what the hell was going on? No one would leave their door unlocked in this neighbourhood, surely...?

  I went in and the sight that met my eyes made me want to throw up and shit myself all at the same time. There was blood everywhere. Fucking hell... someone had killed him.

  With shaking hands I pulled out my mobile phone and I called the police instantly.

  Two officers were sent immediately. The shorter of the two of them approached me, “Mason Fairbrother?” he asked.

  I nodded, “Uh, yeah.”

  He smiled, “DC Colby – I understand that you’re a friend of Hendrix McCarthy?”

  I nodded, “Yeah, he’s kind of my boyfriend actually – we’ve only been seeing each other for a few weeks but I hadn’t heard from him in a few days and I was beginning to worry.”

  He frowned, “Why?” he asked, “how often do you see him?”

  I took a deep breath. There was no point in trying to evade his questions. If Hendrix was still alive and could be saved from his terrible family, I wanted that to happen. “Not too often. Usually only twice a week – Wednesday nights and Sunday mornings – but we text a lot and I haven’t heard from him since Thursday morning when he left...”

  “You’re sleeping together?”

  I nodded, “He’s my boyfriend.” I said, “Or at least, that’s what I’d really like him to be...”

  He frowned at me, “Are you aware that Hendrix is well known to the police as a rent-boy?”

  It annoyed me that they knew and allowed it to go on under their noses, never stepping in to help. I nodded, “He’s been saving up to get out...”

  The officer rolled his eyes, “Yeah, yeah.” He said, “They all say that.”

  I felt my heart sinking. He was probably right. He’d see this sort of thing every day and I was just a naïve bumpkin who thought he could save him but I was sure there was more to my relationship with Hendrix than that... “Please try to find him – he’s got to be in a bad way.”

  He nodded gravely, “We’ve got an idea where he might be, actually.” He said, “Try not to worry. I’m sure we’ll find him alive.”

  I nodded. I had a feeling he was worth more to his cousin alive than dead too – but the guy was a fucking nutter. He’d tried to kill Brendan and now this had happened to Hendrix. I was beside myself with worry for him.

  “Can you tell us anything else about Hendrix?” Colby asked.

  I shook my head, “Nothing much – other than he was upset about Brendan.”

  Colby frowned, “Brendan Holloway?” he asked, I nodded. “Why would he be bothered about Brendan Holloway?”

  My jaw dropped. Had Hendrix actually confided something in me that wasn’t known to the police? “Well, because Brendan’s his natural father.” I said.

  Colby looked at me, shock on his face, “Are you sure?”

  I nodded, “Quite sure – he told me all about himself the first night we met.” I blushed. We’d done a whole lot more than talk too but that didn’t need to be mentioned.

  He nodded, “Well, thanks.” He said writing something on his pad, “and hey, kid – don’t leave the country – we may need to speak to you again.”

  I nodded, “I was kind of banking on it,” I admitted, “I was hoping you’d tell me when you find him. I know he’s probably gonna be in trouble for being a prostitute – but he just needs a chance.”

  Colby nodded, “I know.” He said with a sigh, “Believe me, I know.”

  They probably saw kids like Hendrix every day. I wondered how they were able to stay so positive. It bothered me every day I wasn’t with him that he’d have some punter who would hurt him. It was a dangerous game he was playing and I just wanted him to stop.

  I got outside and lit up. Breathing in the smoke deeply, I closed my eyes and tried to stay positive. Hendrix really didn’t like me smoking and I’d tried to give it up but this had sent me over the edge. I should give up... Maybe I could try those e-cigarette thingies. They were less harmful... And my breath wouldn’t stink for when I next kissed him...

  Chapter 8 – Kidnapped...

  Hendrix

  I seriously couldn’t believe how my bad luck just kept on increasing.

  I’d been lying low in the house that Lenny had hired in the valley for a few weeks and I wasn’t exactly enjoying myself. I was pretty sure I should have gone to the hospital after I’d slit my wrist but Daryl had just bound it tightly and it had sort of healed but man, it was ugly and I still felt so damned ill – and I was so damned tired all of the time.

  All I wanted to do was contact Mason to let him know that I was kind of okay – but I didn’t dare. Lenny was checking everything I did, whether online, on my phone or physically. I couldn’t even take a piss without him knowing about it.

  I was lying on my bed, drifting in and out of consciousness when I heard Daryl swearing profusely. It had been a tiring day for one reason and another. I’d been made to go out with Daryl and Lenny in the morning on some sort of shopping trip. God only knows what they’d been shopping for. I was barely conscious for it and I’d pretty much slept for the rest of the day once we got back to the house.

  I was awake now though, since Daryl had shouted so loudly. I frowned and listened to what he was saying.

  “Fuck me!” he yelled, “Someone’s fucking spying on us up there.”

  My heart started to beat a little faster. Really? Had someone found out that I was being held captive here? Could Mason have come looking for me and called the police?

  No. That wouldn’t have happened – I just wasn’t that lucky... No one would care... except maybe Mason and no one would listen to him. Why the hell would they? I was the scum of the earth; the dregs of society. Even if Mason cared enough to wonder what had happened to me – no one else would...

  But then, why else would there be binoculars trained on us? If it wasn’t for me that was fair enough. But it had to be for something. I could only hope and pray that the cops had finally got something on Lenny that they could really pin on him. Maybe someone had finally talked...

  *

  “Go and find out who it is.” Lenny barked.

  Daryl grumbled but I knew he wouldn’t argue with his brother. He always did as he was told. Cowardly bastard.

  Still, I could hardly talk since I’d never argued with him either. In my defence, I was eight years younger than Daryl – who was four years younger than his brother. They’d definitely been in charge of my upbringing once Callum had been killed – and even before then if I’m honest. I’d been groomed for years...

  I feigned sleep when Daryl came into my room to check on me later on that evening.

  “He’s just asleep – he’s still breathing.” He said as he went back out into the living room.

  Lenny muttered something that I missed but I got the gist from Daryl’s response, “Nah, don’t think he’ll be quite right for another week – we took him out too soon and we can’t risk him being followed back here either.”

  I had no idea what they were planning for me and I didn’t really want to know either – whatever it was it wouldn’t be good but I was too damned exhausted to even muster up any concern about it.

  I wasn’t sure if Daryl was trying to protect me or if he g
enuinely thought I was ill. Either way, I was kind of grateful for what he’d said. It gave me a little more breathing space.

  “So – what’s going on up the valley?” Lenny asked.

  Daryl snorted, “Two guys – reckoned they were ornithologists or something – said they were looking for a rare bird. A dusty robin or something.”

  Lenny let out a snort of his own, “Fuck off – they’re bound to be cops. They’ll have been tipped off by someone...”

  They lowered their voices and I couldn’t hear what they were saying. I decided that whatever it was I was going to have to face tomorrow, a good night’s sleep couldn’t hurt. I drifted off.

  I was woken up roughly the next morning by Daryl. “Get up.” He growled, “We’ve got a job to do.”

  I opened one eye and looked at him, “What sort of a job?” I asked sleepily.

  “Killing faggot cops.” He said with a laugh.

  I was fully awake now, “What?” I squawked, “We can’t do that.” And what the hell was he on about? Faggot cops? Give me a break – they were the most homophobic bastards on the planet...

  “Tell Lenny.” He said, rolling his eyes, “Come on – the sooner we get it over with...”

  The better? Couldn’t see that, somehow...

  *

  It was fucking exhausting climbing up the hill towards the disused holiday park that Daryl reckoned the ‘cops’ were occupying to spy on us. Most of me thought he was crazy and that they really were just a couple of ornithologists but a small part of me really hoped they were cops and that they’d save me from this hell I was living...

  It was really kind of nice and the cabins were very nicely made. Daryl aimed his gun at the French doors of one of the luxury cabins and fired. The biggest bang I ever heard went off and echoed around the whole of the valley – or that’s what it felt like anyway. The next second this guy that reminded me strongly of Rambo came running out of what was left of the French doors, firing his own weapon and shooting at us.

  My hope of the cops saving me kind of waned when I was shot... I can’t even begin to tell you how painful it was being shot in the leg – or how terrifying. I honestly thought I was going to die and it made me realise just how much I wanted to live – to see Mason again if nothing else.

  Thankfully, the cop who shot me wasn’t as crazy as my family and he knew what he was doing. He shot me in the leg specifically so I wouldn’t die, which I actually thought was pretty clever – and kind of decent of him and I honestly couldn’t fault him on shooting Daryl and Lenny – pity he was such a decent guy really. I could totally have appreciated those two being taken out for good... As it was, he just made sure Daryl couldn’t pick up the gun again – shooting him in the hand was pretty damned cool and Lenny in the shoulder. The pair of them were rolling around on the floor screaming like a pair of girls. Fucking wankers...

  He walked down to us and looked at me, “How many others?” he asked, touching my shoulder with the toe of his shoe.

  “Fuck you.” I sneered, squeezing my eyes shut. What the fuck was he doing asking me to talk when he’d just fucking shot me. I hadn’t even done anything...

  He just shrugged, “You may as well tell me,” he said, “there’s back-up on the way – you’re going down either way.”

  Well, there was no point in keeping schtum then. I shook my head, “There’s only the three of us here – but you can guarantee that they’re not working alone.” They’d definitely been meeting someone yesterday when they made me go with them. “You need to warn Peyton McKenzie,” Peyton was an old associate of my brother, Callum and the Roblinskis before he left the gang and made his money honestly. I couldn’t deny that I’d always believed he was the reason Callum was dead. Being young when it had all happened, I was happy to have someone to blame – but it wasn’t really his fault at all. Callum had been an addict for years and was more to blame for his own demise than Peyton ever could be. For some unfathomable reason, Lenny also had some sort of an axe to grind with him. I’d never been able to understand it and hell, anyone who had any sense never asked questions about it... “They’re still after him – they’re everywhere and they’ll not stop until he’s dead.” I was pretty damned sure that was the plan. I’d heard him mentioned a couple of times as a dead man walking and in my world, that generally meant he had a target on his back.

  The officer shook his head and frowned at me, “What the hell have you got against Peyton?”

  Me? I had absolutely nothing against the guy – or I didn’t have until his lover killing my brother – but that said, I wasn’t about to go looking for him to kill him. But it wasn’t as if Peyton was squeaky clean, either, was it? And he was totally the reason I had such a fucking shit life. If his bodyguard had have shot Callum in the leg instead of through the head I might still have gotten away from the rest of them... “Well, speaking personally, he killed my brother, so I wouldn’t fucking miss him if someone took him out,” I spat, “well, he might not have killed Callum – but his boyfriend did...”

  He peered at me closely, a frown on his face. He was clearly working out who I was, “How old are you?” he asked.

  I sniffed, “I’m nineteen.” I’d made it to nineteen last week – away from Mason and as miserable as could be. Whether I’d see twenty was an entirely different matter and most of me didn’t actually give a shit. There was a very small part of me that wanted to live. I just had to see Mason again...

  He nodded, “Been in trouble with the law before?”

  I shook my head. I’d had a couple of cautions but nothing really bad, “Not really.” I muttered, “Couple of warnings for lewd behaviour in public...”

  He nodded, “Well, the good news is that you’re not gonna die, kid – we’ll get your leg patched up and then you’ll have to talk to us. We can probably get you away from this lot if that’s what you want.”

  I shrugged. I was in pain and fed up and I hadn’t been brought up to trust the police... “Whatever,” I said.

  He sighed. “Look, I understand that you’re angry about your brother being killed – but he was going to kill a man too – a father of a little kid.”

  I looked at him. Peyton McKenzie might be a father of a little kid, but he was like Brendan – absent for the main part; more interesting in looking after number one and having sex with men than in looking after his son. “Yeah, maybe,” I sneered, “but he’s as queer as I am.”

  He shrugged, “His sexual orientation is nobody else’s business. It doesn’t define you as a person. You of all people should know that.”

  My jaw dropped, “You what?” I asked, aghast, “You’re a cop and you don’t care if someone’s gay?” I stared at him, “I thought you lot were all homophobes...” Seriously – they all fucking acted like it when they caught me giving the city guys blowies...

  He shook his head, “No.” He said, “Not all of us. Why would I hate someone just for being gay?” He sounded so damned reasonable, “Seems to me the only difference between a gay person and a straight person is what goes on between them in the bedroom. So being prejudiced is just stupid – ignorant – and stupid.”

  Well, that was a very refreshing attitude. I sighed. The pain in my leg was becoming really quite unbearable and when I tried to move I really thought I might be sick.

  The police officer frowned at me, “Keep still, I asked for an ambulance as well as the police.”

  “I’m freezing.” I muttered.

  He frowned and pulled me to my feet, “Come with me.” he said.

  He helped me back to the cabin and wrestled me through the door to the bedroom. I wasn’t exactly a big guy but I really wasn’t really feeling all that good. Hell I hadn’t been feeling great before I was shot never mind now – and I guess I was quite heavy to manoeuvre. “Stay right there,” he warned, “or I’ll shoot you again and this time it’ll be between the eyes, got it?”

  I nodded. There was no fucking way I was going to move. I really didn’t need to go the same w
ay as my brother had, thanks...

  I watched the police officer. He was looking worriedly at his colleague who was lying on the floor, out cold, and bleeding pretty badly from his shoulder.

  He ripped a sheet off the bed and bunched it up and pressed it against the wound at the top of his shoulder. If I didn’t know any better I’d have thought he was in love with the guy for the way he was tending to him – and Daryl had mentioned faggots... hmm.

  I could hear sirens in the distance. Relief went through me that I was going to be saved. I know he’d said that I’d live but I was getting a bit worried as time passed.

  “Denny? Blaine?” I had no idea who Denny and Blaine were but when the cop yelled back to him, it became pretty obvious.

  “In here!” He shouted desperately, “Denny’s down – we need paramedics.”

  “They’re on the way.” The guy who’d been shouting came bursting into the room. He was massive and then he shocked the hell out of me when he grinned at me and called me by my name. “Oh, hello, Hendrix,” he said.

  I looked back at him in surprise, “Who the fuck are you?” I asked, genuinely bemused. I swear I’d never seen him before in my life.

  Tate grinned, “I used to go by the name of Connor – rubbed shoulders with some of your cousins and your brother a few times while I was in those circles – you were just a kid at the time. What the hell are you still doing with those losers?”

  Well, that was a bloody good question, wasn’t it? I scowled, “Great, another undercover wanker.” I muttered, and then I looked up at him, “It wasn’t by choice, believe me – not that any of you lot would ever believe that so I don’t even know why I’m bothering to explain.” I was close to tears. I was really getting to the end of my pain threshold and I’d had enough.

  Tate chuckled, “Looks like he’s gonna be okay.” He looked at the guy on the ground, frowning in concern, “How long has he been out?”

  The one called Blaine shook his head, looking totally stressed out. They had to be more than friends. They had to be... “At least fifteen minutes – maybe twenty.”