by Taylor Ryan
"All part of my travel plans," Martin teased as he strapped Casey's arm back down. "Casey's 'suicide' here will get us quick transportation to the hospital in Iranamadu where we can then fly out to Columbo and then to England. Much less driving."
"You're insane," Shawn hissed. His wrists were raw with all the friction he was creating with the leather, but he could already feel it stretching just a bit.
"That's what I told him," Casey murmured lethargically.
"Don't worry, as soon as I take care of your boyfriend here, we'll be on our way to England, you'll shift and have lots of admirers, and I'll get my kudos and make lots of money. Win-win. Well, at least a win for me. But hey, I'm sure we can manage to get you a good size tank, make an exhibit out of it even."
Fuck the man is nuts, Shawn thought as he fought back images of his beautiful man wasting away, caged in an aquarium like a fish, never to be free again. Tears burned at the corners of his eyes. God, no, please... no.
"You'll look like an idiot because I'll never shift for you," Casey muttered listlessly. And Shawn was certain that Casey would keep his mer half locked away before he let Martin use him like that.
Shawn smirked at the stunned look on Martin's face at Casey's statement. Obviously, the man hadn't figured that into his 'plans'. But then the man's dark eyes narrowed. "You won't have a choice," Martin bit out. "At least not on the full moon."
Shawn's eyes widened in horror. He was right. Casey had said he had to shift on the nights of the full moon. The fucking lunatic would win, and Casey would be trapped and studied like a lab rat.
"No, you can't do that to him." Shawn struggled violently, wishing he could stop these insane plans somehow. If he could just get the fucking belt off his hands... "Think about what you're doing! You're sentencing your nephew to—"
"I'll be dead by the next full moon anyway," Casey's soft voice startled both Shawn and Martin into staring at him in shock.
Casey's head was turned away from both of them, staring at the wall, but Shawn could see the trails of tears slipping down his temples and dampening his sandy blond hair. Oh, god, he's given up.
"What the hell are you talking about?" Martin growled down at Casey, yanking Casey's chin to face him.
A sad, resigned smile graced Casey's lips. "I won't let you do this to me. I'll find a way."
"Casey," Shawn whimpered at the thought of losing his love that way. "Don't. I'll help—"
Martin rounded on him angrily, obviously upset by Casey's determination to thwart his plans. Shawn could see the manic thoughts racing through the man's head, trying to figure out what to do about Casey's proclamation.
"You won't be doing anything," he sneered, as he turned to rummage through a cabinet. "That's at least one thing I won't have to worry about later—you showing up and causing problems."
"You know," Shawn started, hoping to rattle the man. Maybe if he got Martin really angry he'd make a mistake. "I wonder what Thomas would think about what you are doing."
He knew he'd struck a chord with the man when he saw Martin freeze momentarily in his search.
"What would the man you say you loved think about what you are doing now?"
Martin turned, his face etched in anger. "Don't you ever talk about Thomas!"
"Why the hell not? You're destroying everything he ever cared about!" Shawn snapped. He may not have known Thomas personally, but he'd learned enough about the man to know that he'd be devastated at what his partner was doing now. "You've become a madman, and you're killing Casey!"
"Thomas isn't here because of him!" Martin shot back.
"You know that's not true!"
"I didn't kill him!" Casey yelled at the same time as Shawn.
Martin appeared with a large syringe and a vial. He leaned over Casey. "Yeah, well, we'll see how you feel about losing someone you love."
Casey's eyes widened in horror. "No!"
Shawn tensed as Martin stalked over to him, filling the syringe with the liquid. "You didn't think I'd leave him here alive to chase after us, did you?"
"Please," Casey begged, sobs tearing from his throat, his chest heaving against the strap holding him down. "Please, don't. I'll do anything you want, just don't—"
"You think I believe you?" Martin sneered. "I'll just have to keep you sedated or restrained so you can't do anything stupid. After this 'suicide' attempt, I'm sure keeping you restrained for your own good, so you can't hurt yourself again, will be more than believable."
Shawn squirmed, wrenching at his bonds now as he tried to back away from the approaching needle. He didn't know what the hell was in it, but he was certain it wasn't anything good.
Martin squatted next to his head. "This is potassium chloride," he announced, holding up the syringe. "Normally, potassium is good for you. However, a large, concentrated dose injected into muscle tissue will induce a heart attack within fifteen minutes—most likely much less, and it'll be absorbed into your system so no one can tell it wasn't a natural occurrence."
Shawn could vaguely hear Casey screaming at his uncle as his own panic rose. Shawn jerked back away from Martin's attempt to grab his arm, twisting to keep out of the man's reach. When Martin yanked at his bicep, Shawn felt the belt give, sweat and heat slicking the leather enough for his hand to finally slide free.
Martin looked back over his shoulder at Casey. "Now you'll get to watch someone you care about die in front of you."
"You son-of-a bitch!" Casey screamed himself hoarse. "Stop it! Please!"
Shawn only had a moment of shocked relief when his hands slipped free. And he took advantage of Martin's distraction to whip his hand up just as the needle started to prick his skin. He grabbed at Martin's wrist. Cursing shouts echoed from both of them as they grappled for control of the syringe. Martin's fury and bigger muscle mass made him a lot stronger than Shawn, but Shawn's worry for Casey and his own life gave him the strength to endure Martin's overwhelming power.
Martin continued to try to drive the needle into whatever body part he could aim at, and Shawn found himself unable to wrest the syringe from the man. Sweat dripped in his eyes, blurring his vision, as he fought to keep Casey's uncle from killing him, from eventually killing Casey.
Martin ranted obscenities at him and he could hear Casey struggling on the table, but he refused to lose focus. As his strength ebbed, Shawn knew he'd never get the syringe away from the man, his grip on it was too tight, too determined. He abruptly twisted his hand over Martin's wrist, driving it down, hoping to break the needle off rather than trying to keep it out of his own skin.
The needle drove down into Martin's thigh instead. Without thinking, Shawn smashed his hand down on the plunger, emptying the liquid into Martin's leg.
"Fuck!" Martin screamed, pain and horror blazing in his eyes as he yanked the needle free.
Shawn took advantage of the man's momentary shock to jump up and race over to Casey. He grabbed hold of the bloody scalpel and whipped around to face the raging madman, keeping himself protectively in front of Casey.
He watched warily as Martin lurched to his feet. The man stared at him with wide, horrified eyes. It was rapidly sinking in what had just happened.
"You... You..." Martin stammered, panting heavily.
"You did it to yourself when you tried to kill me!" Shawn snapped.
Shawn was glad to see that Martin's fury morphed quickly to self-preservation, his mind obviously racing with what he needed to do to save himself. Shawn could see the color drain from Martin's face as he broke out in a sweat. The pulse at his throat already throbbing erratically.
"Sodium... sodium bi...c-carbonate," the man whispered almost to himself, "I need..." He stared at the cabinets behind Shawn. "Fuck, I don't have anything here..."
With clenched teeth, he glared at both Shawn and Casey, obviously considering what to do. Abruptly, he whirled and stormed to the front door. Shawn didn't move, barely breathing, even as he heard keys rattling, until he heard the roar of the SUV's engine tearing off down the road t
oward the village.
"Shit." Shawn sagged back against the table in relief. He spun around, dropping the scalpel before running his hands over Casey's torso and abs, scanning for injuries. He found that his hands were shaking as they moved up to Casey's jaw.
Those watery gray eyes gazed up at him, searching. "It's over," Shawn whispered. "He's gone, for now."
Casey broke down, his eyes clenching shut, his bottom lip quivering. "Fuck, Shawn, I thought he was going to kill you." Casey's voice was raspy with screaming at his uncle. "I couldn't—"
"Shhh." Shawn soothed his hand over Casey's head, wiping at the tears, ignoring his own dripping off his chin. He pulled himself together long enough to yank the straps free, and Casey tumbled off the table into his arms.
****
Casey clutched at Shawn as soon as he was free from the damn table. "I can't... believe he... " Casey started, his words jumbled as they tumbled from his mouth. "He tried... he wanted to..." He gripped Shawn's face in his hands. "He almost—"
"I know, I know." Shawn tried to calm him down, but Casey was shaking, his eyes wide with the horror of what his uncle had tried to do to him... to Shawn.
"Let's just go. Get you to a doctor for that arm. Did he do... anything else?" Shawn asked, obviously worried about what the answer might be, his eyes still scanning Casey's body for any indication of other injuries.
"No." Casey pulled back. "But we can't go to Dr. Buratha in the village; that's where he went. To the clinic." Casey stopped, eyes wide and dilated. "Do you think he—"
Shawn shook his head. "I don't know. But I know you aren't staying here in case he comes back. And you're still bleeding, Case." Shawn held Casey's wrist reverently, almost like it would break if he let it move. Blood was soaking through the gauze. "Hell, I'll drive you all the way to the hospital in Iranamadu if I have to, but—"
"No, wait." Casey pulled out of Shawn's arms, turning to rummage through his uncle's cabinets. He found the first aid cabinet and turned with a grin, holding up a small vial.
"What's that?" Shawn stared at it skeptically.
"Dermabond," Casey announced, grabbing some extra gauze and medical tape as well.
"What?" Shawn stared at him in confusion.
"It's like superglue for the skin," Casey explained. "Unc- ...Martin kept it for when I got cuts and stuff."
Shawn frowned at him but finally huffed his agreement. "Fine, but if this stuff doesn't work, or if it looks like it might be getting infected, or if—"
"I get it," Casey cut him off, "you'll drag my ass to the hospital. Let's—let's just get out of here."
He cast one last shuddering glance at the table stained with his blood and grabbed Shawn's arm. Shawn was staring at the table as well, the straps hanging limply, the bright smear of red. He looked like he was going to be sick.
"Shawn." Casey jerked on Shawn's arm, snapping his love from the horrible image. "I'm fine. Let's go."
Shawn tripped as he turned but righted himself, drawing in a deep breath. Casey smiled hesitantly, leaning in to kiss the man he loved, the man who had stormed in to his rescue, nearly getting killed in the process.
Shawn hungrily devoured him, clinging to him as if he was going to disappear. Casey could feel Shawn shaking just as much as he was, but they had to get out of here. He couldn't stand to face Martin again.
"Do you want to grab some clothes?" Shawn asked as they reached the front door.
Casting a wary eye back into the house, Casey shook his head. Irrationally, he felt like Martin might jump out at him at any moment. "Hell no. I'd rather go naked than spend another minute in this place right now."
Shawn chuckled, and they both felt relief sweep over them as they stepped into the fresh air. "I could deal with that."
Chapter 33
"Promise me," Shawn demanded as he finished bandaging Casey's wrist, after 'gluing' it up. He had sat Casey down on the sofa and had Casey's upturned wrist splayed across his lap as he doctored it. Casey's head had fallen to the back of the couch. He looked exhausted.
Shawn was surprised that the skin superglue seemed to be working and Casey was no longer bleeding. "Promise me, if he comes back before we get out of here, you'll get down to the ocean and swim away—so he can never get to you again."
Casey looked stricken, red-rimmed eyes gazed up at him suddenly. "No, I can't leave you... He almost killed you! He could try again!"
Shawn took Casey's face in his hands. "But he doesn't want me. I promise I'll be fine, but... I couldn't take it if he got to you. I can only imagine what might happen to you if..." his voice choked off.
Casey clutched at his arms, not wanting to let go.
"Please..." Shawn begged. "Promise me."
Reluctantly, Casey nodded, but Shawn could see the man was still in shock over what had happened, what his uncle had tried to do. It was slowly sinking in what could have happened, what had almost happened, and Shawn could see Casey retreating further and further into his mind.
They spent several precious minutes snuggled into each other, as if it might be their last chance. Shawn focused on memorizing every bit of the man he loved, from the taunt bronze shoulders, to the smooth, flat abs, to his ocean-scented hair. He buried his face in Casey's neck, nuzzling against his skin. He felt Casey's hands stroking over his back, fingers digging in to pull him closer.
Shawn reluctantly pulled back. "Let me grab you some clothes, pack a few things, and we'll get out of here, alright?"
Casey nodded but still seemed hesitant to let him go, as if clinging to him for safety. As soon as Shawn extricated himself from Casey's grip, he watched Casey's eyes darting frantically toward the ocean then back to the front window to watch the road. Shawn darted up the stairs, knowing he needed to hurry, to get Casey off the island.
He dragged out one of his suitcases, throwing a few pairs of underwear, shorts, shirts, whatever they might need for a couple days until they could get somewhere safer. He'd worry about exactly where later. First, he needed to get Casey far away, somewhere that asshole couldn't find him.
After haphazardly packing enough get by on for a day or so, he ran back down the stairs. He saw Casey pacing in front of the window, chewing on his thumbnail as he stared out toward the road.
"Here's a shirt. There are flip flops by the door."
Casey jumped at his voice, making Shawn curse under his breath at the underlying fear that man had instilled in Casey. He tossed the shirt at Casey who yanked it on in a daze. He crossed over to Casey, stealing a kiss hungrily, and gripping the back of his lover's neck, holding him tightly, trying to calm Casey's nerves and pull him back from the pit of fear he was sinking into. They leaned against each other, pressing their foreheads together and breathing in each other's scent. Exchanging silent, calming breaths, they both shared a moment of understanding: it was going to be okay.
"Go on and get in my jeep. I'm just going to grab my laptop." Casey grabbed the suitcase and headed to the door. Shawn turned toward his desk in the alcove, quickly packing up his laptop.
He grabbed a couple bottles of water on his way out, tossing his bag onto the tiny back seat of the jeep with the suitcase. He hopped in and started the vehicle, gunning the engine as he took off.
"Wait!" Casey shouted, his sudden animation from the daze he'd been in causing Shawn to slam on the breaks. "In the foyer... I saw... passports..." Casey stammered. "Maybe we should...we might need—"
"I'll get it," Shawn stated as he turned toward the large house. He didn't want to subject Casey to going back inside that place. He hopped out as soon as he stopped and darted inside.
For a moment, he didn't see them. But then he noticed some papers and the passports on the floor. Martin must have knocked them off the credenza when he swiped up his keys in his hurry to get out. Shawn grabbed up the passport with Casey's name and darted back out the door.
He froze as he saw billowing dust on the road coming towards them. Casey was already climbing out of the jeep, eyes wide. Shaw
n raced toward Casey, instinctively shoving the smaller man behind him.
"Go," he growled, keeping his eyes on the approaching dust cloud.
The blond started for the path but stopped abruptly, turning back to stare at the road. "It doesn't sound like Martin's car."
"I don't care! Maybe he got another car. Maybe he sent someone else after you. Get the hell out of here!" Shawn snapped.
But by that time, the little Tata Nano vehicle came into view. Shawn and Casey both frowned at the tiny old car, squinting to see who was driving. Shawn relaxed slightly when he caught sight of the darker skin of one of the villagers as the driver.
Not Martin. Thank God.
Shawn still maintained his protective stance in front of Casey as the little blue car pulled to a rattling stop. An older man in a rumpled shirt and slacks climbed out, looking upset and anxious.
"Oh, Casey," the man greeted sadly, "I'm so glad I caught up to you."
Shawn frowned and glanced back at Casey. The man knew Casey? Casey looked a bit perplexed for a moment as well before he tilted his head slightly and frowned.
"Dr. Buratha?"
****
Casey eyed the man he hadn't seen in over four years warily. Of course, Dr. Buratha had been nothing but kind to him for the short time he'd worked at the clinic, but Casey preferred not to think about anyone from the clinic if he could help it.
And he certainly didn't expect the doctor to ever show up here.
"Oh, Casey," the older man smiled dolefully. "I'm afraid I have some bad news."
Shawn and Casey exchanged wary looks, but Dr. Buratha continued.
"It's your uncle, son." And Casey flinched at the reference to Martin. "I'm afraid... well, I'm afraid, he's... passed away."
Casey's jaw dropped. "What?"
He felt Shawn grip his hand tightly. A wash of mixed feelings rushed over him—shock that it had really happened, relief and joy that he was truly free of the man. But also an odd feeling of sorrow and guilt. Even though he knew he should hate the man and be rejoicing in his death, he still couldn't help a tinge of grief that he was truly dead.