by J P Sayle
“Who are you, and what the hell do you think you’re doing in my home?” His righteous anger seemed only to make the bigger man happy. Stuart watched a maniacal smile spread across his face. High slashing cheekbones and full lips lost their beauty when you looked into his cold dead eyes.
Trembling, Stuart watched something akin to evil slither across the man’s features. Whatever it was it had his stomach heaving, not wanting to back down, but the urge to step back had him stealing his spine. The silence lengthened, compelling him to speak Stuart enunciated every word. “What the fuck are you doing in my home, I won’t ask again?” Stuart’s quiet tone belied the anger that seeped into every word.
The man stood stock still for another moment before he slowly pulled his hand up, only then did Stuart realise it held something. Too late, too late, his mind screamed, reality merging with the horror waving in front of him. The light in the hall caught the metal making it gleam garishly. His fear dried his mouth when the man pointed the gun at him.
“Come on. We don’t want your little boyfriend coming back too soon and spoiling my fun, now do we?” The words froze his insides. Joel, fuck, fuck, fuck.
The loud snick had him fixated on his beefy hand, almost mesmerised as the man pulled back the trigger of the gun.
“I won’t ask again.” The ominous growl had Stuart’s feet moving towards Joel. His mind had other ideas, shrieking at him to run. Stuart tried to comprehend what was happening, but his fear for Joe had him obeying. His mind frantically searched for a solution as his heart rate skyrocketed.
Could he make a run for it when they got outside, could he draw attention to what was going on, or would that make the situation worse? Fuck, what if one of the kids in the street got caught up in this madness?
Stuart so focused on a solution jumped at the loud vitriolic screech. The small flying black silky ball landed slap bang on the hand holding the gun. His shout lost under the sound of the gun firing. He felt his heart stuttering in horror. He knew his mouth was gaping open, watching in terror as Princess dropped to the floor like a stone, the thud ominous. Princess lay in a heap, unmoving.
Nausea rose hard and fast, breathing in through his mouth when his nose burnt with the scents of greasy oil and tainted copper. Stuart felt the wetness slide down his frozen cheeks, emotions overwhelming him. A dark stain spread out from under Princess matting her fur and staining the wooden floor. Moving without thinking Stuart went to help Princess, bending down before a sharp, sudden pain at the back of his head, had lights dancing before his eyes. The pain had his limbs dissolving, collapsing next to Princess he tried to focus on clearing his vision. An agonising pain exploded at the side of his head making everything fade into nothingness.
Joel
“Fucking stupid cat!” Joel’s booted foot kicked the cat out of the way before he yanked the man on the ground by his hair towards the door. Joel hoisted the man’s dead weight into his arms, making them flex as he threw him over his shoulder. Glancing down briefly at the bloody floor and smirking. “That’ll fucking teach you.” Maniacal laughter floated into the crisp night air.
He hadn’t wanted to get into anything right there, but that fucking stupid cat thought it knew better as if a tiny foolish cat would be able to hurt or stop him. His laughter continued at the cat’s stupidity, he looked down at the bloodied scratches it had managed to inflict. Shaking his head, he’d suffered worse than that in war-torn countries, what were a few fucking scratches going to do to him?
Opening the van door, Joel threw the man onto the floor, loving the sound of his head bouncing off the metal flooring. He sighed in displeasure. It was a pity he was out cold he would have enjoyed watching him suffer the severe knock.
Barely winded, he sneered at the house opposite before stepping back and locking the van door. He reassured himself there would be plenty of time to play when they reached their destination. His cold grey eyes glinted with satisfaction at the thought.
Joel felt the thrill course through him at his find, security could have been a real issue on such a small island, but he thought he had found a faultless solution. The building he’d found while scouting was perfect for what he wanted. The old bike museum had been closed to the public for several months, and was in good repair, with electricity—though he’d been careful about using it. No one appeared to visit, but he couldn’t be too cautious. The last thing he needed was to attract attention in the last few weeks.
Situated on the only mountain on the island, its position ideal. It sat high up, back off the main road. The windows offered a magnificent panoramic view, stopping anyone from sneaking up on him. To travel to it was either by foot, or the one road that accessed the front of the building. It’s only entrance to that road was from the main mountain road, leaving very little to chance. Joel had made sure to take care of the rest, setting up sensors to trigger if anyone got too close. He couldn’t be too careful with Joe’s abilities.
He’d spent weeks creating a cover story, his patience wearing thin. But he’d managed to befriend the dirty boy’s trials riders, implementing the second phase of his plan. So, travelling around the museum wouldn’t cast up any suspicion, he’d made going across the mountain on his trails bike the norm for him, giving plausibility if questioned for any reason.
He had parked his motorcycle inside the museum earlier, finally confident to set his plans in motion. The only fly in the ointment had been Aaden, the big bastard had arrived a few days before, scuppering his plans on abducting Joe. He’d barely contained his rage, the inside of the museum taking his full rath. He knew he couldn’t afford for the big bastard to come after him. Absently Joel rubbed his arm, feeling the endless ache, a constant reminder of what Aaden could do with just a few fingers. Hell, by the time Aaden had finished with him he would have confessed to anything to get him to stop. And he had, much to his own disgust.
Snarling at the house across the road, knowing Aaden and Joe were just mere metres away. Joel still couldn’t figure out what Aaden’s game was. He had figured out pretty quickly when Aaden arrived that they weren’t fucking, now at least. No, the other fucker was instead. Joel breathed in deep to try and let the anger settle inside. He slowly unclenched his fists.
Focusing back on Aaden, Joel still wanted to know why he wanted to help Joe. Deep down inside he felt his anger unfurl stronger this time; doubts crowded his mind. The voice inside telling him he was missing something important. Joe had always denied there was anything other than friendship. Lies, utter lies had continued to pour from those luscious lips, making him lose control. He blamed Joe for his fingers seemingly taking on a will of their own, wanting to crush Joe’s windpipe to stop the lies from bleeding out. Not sure what had prevented him from taking his life, when all he could taste was their lies, but somehow he had, and now he was paying for it.
So now it was time to make them all pay, and he would. Those fuckers were laughing at him all this time, taking what belonged to him, his property. He’d seen what had gone on in the hall the day before. They thought they’d be safe, but he’d managed to pick the lock and get into the garden. His view, though obstructed, had confirmed his suspicions and he may not be able to make Joe pay right now, but he could make his little fuck buddy pay.
Aaden wouldn’t give a damn about this man, he was sure of that, if he got to keep Joe to himself. Joel felt the pain radiate down his neck, his jaw clenched tightly at the thought. Anger shook his giant body, making his blood thrum through his veins, clouding his mind with his temper. Breathing deep, trying to focus past the red haze that was getting harder and harder to manage every day. Joel revved the engine, letting the vibrations soothe him for a few seconds before putting it in gear. Joel shot forward out of the cul-de-sac.
Catching sight of Joe’s van in his rear-view mirror had an urge to turn his van around and slam into it, taking his breath away. Struggling to calm himself he gripped the steering wheel, leather cracking under his stiff fingers. Crushing the wheel, he pushed hi
s foot to the floor heading out of the village, away from temptation.
Joel drove with the confidence of being undetected, mapping out his route before coming to Joe’s house. The darkened sky and lack of moonlight worked in his favour. Having let the white Ford transit van become filthy, to make it unobtrusive to anyone that chose to look. He had hidden the number plate under layers of carefully applied mud. Planned with precision, now he just needed to get back and dump his load before anyone tried to stop him.
The whimper from the rear of the van soothed as a mother’s lullaby would, taking the edge off of his ever-growing temper. His eyes gleamed back at him from the rear-view mirror. Hate and spite looked back at the crumpled man on the floor of the van. Joel’s maniacal smile spread twisting his features, hate taking hold.
Joe would pay; he’d make them all pay one way or another for what they had done to him. He just needed to stick to his new plan, his new plan was much better.
Joe
Joe fidgeted watching Aaden open the front door. Maybe he should have let Stuart come too? He could tell he’d pissed him off by insisting he stay with Princess, but fuck, he’d promised to look after her. He was already feeling guilty for leaving her all day, this thing between her and Max was going to be a bloody nuisance if he couldn’t go to Aaden’s without worrying Princess was going to misbehave.
As if Max knew he was thinking about him, he lumbered down the stairs, his massive body hardly clearing the steps. Joe wondered, is there such a thing as a cat weight club? Looking at Max he considered if he suffered with cat obesity, because Aaden maybe needed to consider enrolling him and fast, before he couldn’t move his large ass around.
Following Aaden into the makeshift living room, Joe noticed they had cleared the wet wallpaper away. He couldn’t stop the sigh of relief, he’d been dreading the prospect of tidying up the sticky mess he’d made. He could still smell the dank wetness as he breathed in. Tasting the gluey steamed air made him want to gag. He coughed, hoping it would clear, grimacing at the prospect of sleeping here for next few days till they’d finished.
Aaden had refused his offer twice to stay with them, so he wasn’t going to bother his ass again. But still, he couldn’t understand why Aaden wouldn’t want a nice cosy bed, in a house that smelt decidedly better than this one, over his sleeping bag on a hard floor. He really didn’t get him at times, shrugging off his concern he looked for a place to sit.
Seeing the only remaining furniture was the old rickety kitchen chairs, Joe perched his ass on the edge not wanting to get dirty, while Aaden busied himself rooting through his large rucksack.
Joe gave the room another once over. He could see the potential now that the shit brown walls were bare, the carpets cleared out, along with the dense dark curtains. He had personally taken those and put them in the bin, as far as he was concerned they weren’t even fit for dust rags.
The room appeared bigger, seemingly larger he was convinced, and no one would tell him otherwise, because it was free from dreary shit brown. He knew he’d harped on about it, but he couldn’t get over how much of it there was in that small house. Ms Stevens must have bought the whole island stock; he shuddered at the thought of being surrounded by it daily.
Trying not to think about it, Joe looked at the windows. They would offer a decent view of what was currently an overgrown garden. Peering out into the darkening evening, Joe felt that if Aaden cut it back, it could allow more light into the room. It was just a little hard to tell with the evening drawing in.
Joe tried to remember which way the house faced. He thought the back of the house would probably get most of the sun in the day time. For him that would be a real advantage in the summer as he loved nothing more than pottering in a garden. Joe imagined the sun reflecting off gleaming wood floors with subtle green walls. He let his mind’s eye see the possibilities, not noticing Max amble over to the rickety chair next to him.
Ominous creaking startled Joe from his thoughts. Hiding his amusement behind his hand, he watched Max heft himself up into the chair. “Hey, boy, we need to find you something a little more sturdy cause’ the noise that chair is making, says it will need to be reinforced to hold your weight. At this rate you could end up on your ass, hey?” Bicoloured eyes fixed their beady gaze on Joe, pinning him to the chair. Joe quickly remembered he needed his hands to work, so he tucked them under his legs. He couldn’t be too careful. Back pedalling, he tried to rectify the situation before he got into more hot water. “I was thinking you needed something a little more majestic for such a gorgeous big boy.”
Aaden’s boisterous laughter roared behind him, swivelling around, Joe gave him a ‘fuck off’ salute. Turning back Joe ignored Aaden, catching Max’s dangerous expression. Joe barely resisted hunching into the chair when Max stared him down. What is it with these bloody cats, first Princess now bloody Max was giving him grief, hell, I was only worried he’d fall through the ruddy chair, for God’s sake.
Feeling put up on, Joe risked stroking in between Max’s shoulders, trying to distract him from the perceived transgression. The soft silky fur encouraged him to keep stroking. Feeling tingles transfer up his fingers when deep rumbles revved loudly, the noise almost deafening. Max stretched transferring into Joe’s lap, making his own chair groan in distress. Joe’s brow shot up in alarm looking up at Aaden who was still rooting through his bag.
“Hey, don’t look at me, I didn’t insult him. You now have to pay the piper.” Joe could hear the humour in Aaden’s husky voice, but it would have been a dead giveaway when he could see his dark eyes dancing with mirth.
Choosing to ignore Aaden, Joe let Max curl up in his lap.
Joe shifted after a few minutes, the pressure on his legs making them go numb. Shit, at this rate they’ll be asleep in seconds and I’ll never be able to walk again. Who the hell knew a cat could weigh nearly as much as a human? A spine tingling growl slithered up his spine. His startled eyes glanced at Max’s face. What the hell? No way he could have read my mind, surely? My face must have given me away, right?
Joe meet Aaden’s bemused stare, watching an odd expression cross his handsome face. What was even stranger was the head shake he gave Max. Heaven’s above, Joe thought maybe this thing with Joel was making him lose his mind, cause he was almost convinced that Aaden and Max were doing some weird mind telepathy thing.
Feeling he was in the twilight zone, he watched Aaden’s eyes go impossibly dark, glowing ethereally in his now pale face. The air felt thicker as he drew in a breath. It seemed to strum with intensity trapping Joe in place, unable to look away. He found himself drawn inexplicably to the pain and sorrow that flashed across Aaden’s usually stoic face. Unsure what to do, hesitating for a second he watched the shutter slip firmly back in place. Sensing he’d missed the opportunity to do something vital. The closed-off look had him keeping his mouth shut knowing Aaden was a very private person and if he wanted to share he would when he was ready. Now, it would appear, was not that time.
Silently watching Aaden gather what he felt was vital for their protection. The reality of his situation came home to roost after having spent weeks avoiding thinking about it. The fact he’d thought it was dealt with showed what a big fool he was. He should have realised Joel was never going to let it go, and now he may be out there planning God knows what. He had a feeling this was going to take a big bite out of his ass, greater than it had before.
The problem was, the army couldn’t protect him, and he’d not been able to do it without Aaden’s help. Joe struggled to think past the six months of hell he’d suffered at Joel’s hands. Why he hadn’t let Aaden do what he’d wanted at the time was beyond him now. Shaking of the grim images that night evoked. No, he was not going to think about what Aaden could or couldn’t do. Joe knew he couldn’t do it again, he just couldn’t, and remain sane, or alive.
The sigh weighed heavy, laying his hands on Max’s large warm body seeking some warmth, needing something to eliminate the chill that hadn’t left
him since he’d got home. Talking about his past and baring his soul had nearly broken him. The horror of all those months relieved in glorious technicolour, it should have highlighted to Stuart what a terrible bet he was. Then the silly ass had held him instead of running a mile, cried for him, cutting Joe off at the knees.
Joe shrugged off the weakness he could still feel in his legs. If he hadn’t sat when Stuart had pulled him in, he would have fallen, making an even bigger fool of himself showing Stuart how bad he had it. His emotions had run amuck, making the declaration of love that sat inside desperate to escape. Joe worried his lip, thinking about his insecurity, he’d purposefully held back for fear it was just sympathy Stuart was feeling.
Joe could see now that was a mistake by holding back from those who were important to him. He could feel his blinders drop away, seeing why Martin had been so concerned about him. Talking about all that shit had somehow let him see what he’d been doing to his friend, unintentionally hurting him. All because some useless asshole with a God complex felt he owned Joe’s ass, making him pull away from those who were essential in his life.
Joe let out loud groan. How the hell had he ended up here? He really had no clue, but one thing was for sure, that big fucking bastard, Joel, had stolen enough of his life.
Joe felt some of the burden lift from his mind as Max’s warm body hugged closer to him. Joe cuddled him closer giving him a reassuring smile, not sure if it was Max’s presence that helped or just his acknowledgment of past mistakes, but he took comfort from it. Gnawing his fingernail, all this thinking didn’t stop the yearning to go back and undo everything that had happened, starting with meeting Joel in the first place.