by J P Sayle
Joe
Joe’s fingers wrestled with the tiny bolts smearing grease, swearing up a storm as the tiny parts slid through his slippy fingers. “Come on, come on, you little fucker, just one more piece.” Sweat slicked skin glistened under the spotlights, the heat emitted making him uncomfortable, but he needed them to see all the components. Joe flexed his hands trying to release the cramp as his hand seized. “Come on, only a few more.” Shaking his hands he prayed his fingers would hold out few more minutes. Slotting in the final parts of the sound bug, Joe breathed a sigh of relief. “There you go, you little bastard.” Joe’s concentration never wavering he secured the bug into the hole he’d dug into the bed frame earlier.
Wiping off the excess oil on the towel he stepped away, scanning the setup. Checking the room, searching to see if there was anything too obvious. The motion sensor cameras hidden in the bedroom furniture were so tiny the naked eye would struggle to see them, well he hoped so after all his effort. Praying Joel wouldn’t notice. His observation skills—thankfully—were seriously lacking, but underestimating Joel would be foolishness after everything he’d put Joe through.
Frowning at the clock, shit it had taken longer than he’d anticipated. Grabbing his bag and tools, he packed them away. Straightening the bed, Joe checked he hadn’t left anything behind. He could feel a big arse grin spread across his face, it stretched wide for the first time in months. “Joel, you, my friend, are about to get your just desserts.” Saluting the cameras, Joe headed for the elevator after a making another final sweep of the room. He couldn’t be too careful; stepping out of the room, hesitating to make sure the corridor was clear before moving into full view. Keeping his hoodie up over his face, Joe headed quickly down the fire exit stairs.
The Best Weston Hotel situated in the centre of Coventry was perfect for his plans. Situated back off the main road, it was shielded by a forest of trees. The car park extended around the far side of the building, leading down towards the large trees that offered shelter and cover for his new van.
Joe hurried towards the trees that were bunched together, giving him some element of cover. Their gnarled branches clacked together, creating a large canopy of music above his head. They blocked out the dull grey sky, hiding its bleakness from view. Joe considered that it suited the occasion to perfection.
Keeping his eyes downcast, he let his hoodie cover the top half of his face. He huddled further into his top, folding his arms into his body, trying to keep the icy cold wind out. Shivers skittered up his body making him wish for his jacket. When the hell had September become the beginning of winter? If this was autumn you could keep it. It was bloody laughable when all he could hear were leaves crunching under his boots. Trees seemingly offering little resistance to the pervading winds, letting it shake them bare.
The weatherman rarely seemed to get it right nowadays, saying the high would be eleven degrees, it felt more like bloody two to him. Joe sighed as his body fought the tremors that racked his thin frame. He picked up his pace, wanting to get out of the icy wind. His hands burrowed deeper into his hoodie trying to find some warmth. He wondered again why he had not bothered with his coat, when his nose dripped onto his hoodie. “Eww.” He scrambled to catch the next drips with a tissue. Why couldn’t work ever send me somewhere exotic and warm just once?
He hunched down feeling the weight of his mood pulling him down as he headed towards the back of the car park. The van barely in sight, hidden under the shadowing trees, gave him a modicum of comfort.
Clicking his fob, Joe slid the door open of his new crafter Volkswagen van. He searched for anything out of the ordinary before jumping inside. His senses on overdrive, expecting an attack at any moment, he hastily shut the door.
The inky darkness descended for a second before he flicked his phone open, activating his equipment. The blast of warm air from the humming fans had him shudder in relief. Monitors flashed to life around him, blinding him for a second. He blinked his eyes back into focus, his hands already reaching reverently for the cold metal, his baby. He surveyed the monitors, thinking it was ironic that the one thing Joel had loved about him had turned out to be the only way he could defend himself.
The high tech setup could link remotely to any camera within a hundred mile radius, which he had done to make sure Joel did not get the drop on him. The fact that all this stemmed inadvertently from Joel was irrelevant. It was by far his most successful project. Shaking off the negative thoughts that wanted to remind him they were not quite successful, he still had to catch the bastard in the act first.
Joe’s brow scrunched in concentration as he worked the keyboard, waiting for the images to pop up on the screen. His face glowed green in the light, eyes glinted with approval that his hacking skills had improved dramatically. He supposed that he had Joel to thank for that as well, even if its purpose was to get Joel off his back.
Joe’s anger rose, not thinking he lashed out punching at the van wall, wailing when his hand throbbed in agony. Rubbing his bruised hand, he breathed past the anger which was overwhelming him. He tried to focus on the fact he couldn’t afford to break his hand, he wisely moved away from further temptation.
Why him? He wasn’t anything special. His life was completely turned on its head. Each new job hampered by an unidentified mole, their sneakiness making it harder to track than he’d anticipated. It had taken three months to identify who was giving Joel the information on his whereabouts.
Having inadvertently focused on the wrong person, Joe had missed the obvious choice. Mattie, petite, golden brown hair with matching eyes, tight lithe body that he knew how to use to get what he wanted. The little twink managed the control office and was just Joel’s type, easy to control. Joe had inadvertently intercepted an email that had finally ended his months of searching.
Joe brought his mind back to the job at hand. He was ready to rock and roll; the van was set to his specifications. It had taken month’s working day and night, sourcing equipment from his league of friends over the world, trying to keep under the radar. He was now ready to see if his efforts were going to pay off.
He relaxed back into the supple leather cushioned seat, monitoring what was happening outside and in the hotel on the screens. The scent of new leather strengthened as the van warmed, filling his nostrils with the rich scent. Joe moaned in dismay as his dick started to take notice. He looked down, “Months of a dry spell and you pick now.” He slapped down hard at his crotch, “You can forget that, you got me into this bloody mess to start with.”
Joe ignored his growing problem, reconsidering the use of a leather interior was maybe not the best idea. Especially now, in such small confines when there didn’t appear to be any escape from the arousing smell, and he’d be buggered if he was going to open the window and let the cold in. Joe attempted to take his mind off his growing problem, working the keyboard.
He grinned at no one in particular when the hotel room came into focus with subtle sounds coming from outside the room. Perfect. Now he just needed to wait and see if Joel had taken the bait. This job had given him the perfect opportunity. His own sources telling him Joel had taken a leave of absence for personal reasons after Joe had confirmed where he would be with Mattie.
Joe scowled in disbelief. He’d give Joel personal fucking reasons. The shithead had nearly cornered him twice in the past two months. Joe was just thankful his instincts had kicked in before walking into another trap. Now, he hoped to turn the tables on Joel.
His fingers ached as he rubbed them together, hell his whole body ached from the excessive hours of bending in small spaces. He was exhausted, the lack of sleep left his eyes red-rimmed and gritty. He knew he looked like shit, but the need to end this, had driven him to keep going. His clothes looked like rejects from Oxfam, they hung off his thin frame, holes and rips everywhere. Permanently cold, not sure if it was the state of his clothing or symptoms of stress. He’d hazard a guess it was probably both.
The one thing he did know was
his body needed a reprieve. He promised himself, as soon as he had enough evidence to stop Joel in his tracks, then he’d take some time, re-evaluate his shitty life. He yearned for it to be sooner rather than later. Martin’s constant inquiries as to when he was coming to visit and meet Brad, was the only thing keeping him going. The thoughts of a break from his crappy life had him longing to visit Martin immediately.
He had stalled Martin, using work as an excuse. He recalled their last conversation, suspecting Martin knew he was being evasive. The questions were getting closer to the truth, but he felt he had valid reasons for not sharing his shit. Martin and Brad had been through enough, the court case had splashed their issues all over the media. Their lives became more difficult when the press hounded them for weeks. Which would have made it nigh on impossible for Joe to stay hidden. If Joel had spotted him, it would have only made matters worse for everyone involved. Joe nervously twirled his hair, hoping when the truth came out Martin would forgive him.
The familiar scent of green apples wafted around his head with each pull he gave on the long silky strands that hung around his face. Comforted by the familiar scent of his Wella hair products. The fact the product left his hair silky smooth was immaterial. It was the crisp green apples distinct smell that drew him to purchase the shampoo. The reminder of primary school days made him long to be that care free child, digging into his lunch box for a big juicy apple. Knowing that the crisp tart taste would explode in his mouth, making him salivate before he’d even started.
Distracted by movement on the screens he brought his attention back, focusing on the task at hand. His eyes itched with tiredness as he watched for hours, feeling his patience wearing thin. Joe worried his plump lip, making it swell, tapping at the keyboard to check that he’d missed nothing. Had he been too obvious? Joe began second guessing himself as the sky darkened.
Were Joel and Mattie suspicious? Shit, maybe I’d been too eager to accept the job?
The Intel gathering had been something he’d stumbled into which had offered him something he hadn’t considered when he’d been contracted to the army, fieldwork. It had over the last ten years become second nature. It challenged him in a different way to the electronic inventions. Giving him balance between the two roles allowed his mind time to rest and re-energise.
He had often been referred to as brilliant, his parents wanting him to join Mensa. He’d laughed it off, even though he could have qualified easily. He’d not wanted to show off his differences, life was difficult enough being gay as well as a brainiac. All he’d ever wanted was to fit in.
Moaning in disgust, Joe knew it didn’t appear to matter how intelligent you were, you could still get into a heap of dumb shit.
He flicked back between the split screens, leaning forward, his hands paused mid-tap. He gently touched the screen, “There you are, you big fucker.” A feeling of disquiet filled him at the size of the bag Joel was dragging behind him. Terror so big held him hostage, while he watched Joel break into the hotel room. His lungs screamed, reminding him to breathe. Loud wheezing filled the cab as he sucked in leather scented air, trying to reassure himself he was safe in the van. Joe felt every muscle go on high alert as a thought flitted through his mind. Had he locked the van door?
The question barely formed before his feet were moving. His heart pounded triple time, sweat beaded on his upper lip, as his dampened palms flicked the locks into place. His nerves stretched to breaking point had his hands shaking as he wobbled back to sit down. How could he forget such basic precautions?
Reprimanding himself, he went back to watching the cameras record every gory detail. Joel wouldn’t be expecting him for another couple of hours. Well, that was if Mattie had given him the revised timetable for his work schedule. He’d tampered with the worksheet, so he had time to get set up. He’d actually completed his contract two days earlier, and as far as the army was concerned, he was taking a leave of absence. He had no plans to return having had enough, but he’d not wanted to burn any bridges, going instead for a prolonged leave of absence for the time being.
Joe wished Aaden would hurry up and arrive, all this waiting was making him nervous. He considered his relationship with Aaden while his hands strummed against the keyboard anxiously. It had taken a while to trust anyone connected to the army after everything they’d put him through. With Martin out of the equation it had left him little options. Aaden was his handler and though initially Joe suspected him of being the snitch, his gut had told him differently which the evidence supported, allowing him to share his problems. The fact Aaden believed him without the photographic evidence of the abuse, helped ease some of Joe’s ongoing distress.
The sound coming from the speakers had him refocusing, watching with sick fascination as horrific pieces of equipment came out of Joel’s bag, moving quickly around the room setting up each piece. The glinting maliciousness when Joel faced the camera had Joe struggling to swallow.
Christ, what the fuck is he planning? Bondage cuffs, spreader bar, along with a full body harness, were all laid out. Joel tilted the mattress, using the bed frame to attach the buckles and metal handcuffs.
Joe’s hands trembled as he skimmed the keyboard making sure he was capturing the macabre scene. Zooming in, his belly tied itself in knots, feeling like it may never unravel again. He peered closer, wishing he hadn’t when his blood curdled, feeling his heart stop at the sheer size of the bullwhip. A sudden swishing noise of air cutting had Joe recoiling from the screen. Terror gripped his throat, his mind resisting what the sadistic bastard was planning on doing to him. A spine-chilling cold spread inside him. Goosebumps exploded to life across his chilled skin with each flick of Joel’s wrist. Demonic chuckles floated through the speakers, along with the whistle of the leather cutting the air.
Joe heard his soul screaming, no, no, no when Joel spoke. “This time there will be no escape, Joe King, you will be mine, and I will show you who’s in charge. Nobody dumps me and lives to tell the tale.”
His cameras captured it all. A violent shudder shook his thin frame, rattling his teeth. The meagre sandwich he’d eaten forced him to breathe through his mouth, while his haywire system struggled to keep the sandwich down. His clammy palms rubbed at his revolting stomach, while he gulped air imploring the nausea to settle.
Morse code tapping sounded on the door panel startled Joe into catapulting his chair forward into the work station. “Argh fuck.” At the rate he was going at, he was convinced he’d have a bloody heart attack and die in the van before they’d even started!
Where the hell was his backbone when he needed it? Joe waited a beat, pulling himself together before checking and unlocking the door.
Aaden’s large warm hands pushed him back. “Come on it’s fucking freezing out here, what took you so long, hey? It’s not like you were expecting anyone else for God’s sake.” Aaden’s gruffness so normal to him, Joe didn’t take any offence.
“Okay hold your horses, the space is a little cramped with my kit.”
Aaden’s dark brooding eyes locked with his for a second before taking everything in with one sweep of his van.
“Fuck, man, you built all this yourself? No fucking wonder the army has their claws dug so deeply into you. Shit, this looks fucking genius, man.”
Joe couldn’t stop his instincts to slap at Aaden’s hands when reached to touch his baby. The sound had both men eyeing each other. Aaden pulled back his reddened hand saying nothing, but his hard eyed glare had Joe feeling contrite.
He apologised, “Please don’t touch, okay? Sorry, I shouldn’t have slapped, but I haven’t spent hours getting this set up for something stupid to happen. I can’t afford for something to go wrong now.” His desperation had Aaden offering a sympathetic smile. Joe felt warmth spread into his icy fingers at Aaden’s touch.
“It ends today, Joe. We’ll sort this fucker out for good.”
Loud clanging had both their heads dart towards the screens. Joe saw Aaden’s eyes widen, before h
e pointed at the screen. “What the fuck is that?”
Joe’s bowels wanted to empty, words stuttered past the horror. “It’s a swing-set, and a straightjacket. It allows your partner to immobilise you while you’re strapped into the swing. Your partner can then fuck you in any position they want, while you can’t escape.”
Aaden’s inquiring stare had heat flood his cheeks, Joe forced himself to explain. “I have done a little research on the subject when Joel asked to play in the beginning.” He shrugged, trying hard not to show his mortification at explaining his love of experimentation with sex. Though he was sure Joel had obliterated the trust levels he required, not at all convinced he’d ever get them back.
His mind a mess, he missed what Aaden had said. “Sorry, what did you say?”
Aaden gave him a reassuring hand squeeze as he spoke. “You ready for me to go up and pay a surprise visit?”
Joe turned back to the screen; it would appear Joel was ready, sitting behind the door, quietly surveying the room from the corner. Joe glanced away from the screen, he knew his eyes were imploring Aaden to be careful. “I’m not sure why I roped you into this mess. Please be careful. Okay?” Joe held up his hand stopping Aaden’s interruption. “Yes, you offered to help. I get that and will be eternally grateful for it. You were the only one listening to me, and that makes me think you didn’t have many options. Though I’m still grateful, I’m allowed to worry for you. I’m not sure how I will ever repay you, but whatever you need, it’s yours.”
Aaden’s dark eyes clouded with an expression Joe couldn’t decipher. “I have enough to atone for, maybe this will help.” His words held a depth of sorrow Joe didn’t understand, quirking his brow Joe waited for Aaden to explain.