Grayson Ryder: A Thief's Thrill

by M. L. Giles

  “Don’t take any stupid risks, I mean it!” Carl demanded. “Even something simple, like seeing one of our group members alive in there, would be great information for us to act on. We can work with that.”

  Bethany nodded. “Agreed. Trying to get them out by yourself would be too risky. When will you be setting off, Grayson?”

  “Soon as possible. The time Colton may have bought us will run out eventually. I’ll get my gear sorted first, sleep when morning comes, then set off the following evening when night falls.”

  Before sunrise, I had to juggle many different tasks; my clothes needed cleaning to get the blood out, new batteries were needed for my slim torch, and a car had to be prepared for me with a small amount of provisions.

  The hardest task of the evening was spending time with Colton. Not only did we all have to avoid the topic of his father, outright lying if we were asked where he was, but I also had to pretend that I wasn’t going anywhere.

  I hated lying to him. Every lie that came out of my mouth left me with a sick feeling.

  During our time together, it dawned on me that, if I were caught again, there was a chance I wouldn’t be making it back alive from this one. All I wanted to do was tell Colton how I felt about him… To tell him all those silly and soppy things other couples tell each other. I couldn’t do that, though.

  If Colton suspected anything was amiss, he might dig around enough to discover what I wanted to protect him from.

  I’ll say this, it’s a bloody good job I grew up lying and hiding stuff from people.

  “They suit you!” Colton tried to reassure me that the temporary clothes I wore looked fine on me.

  Absolute bollocks.

  I was sitting with my legs crossed at the bottom of Colton’s bed, wearing torn jeans and a buttoned-up shirt that was green with sickly orange cross-hatched patterns on. It was the kind of shirt Thomas would love, which automatically made me loathe it.

  If I made it back from the hospital in one piece, I would make whoever picked these substitute clothes out for me suffer – Carl, probably.

  To make matters worse, I’d washed myself earlier only to misplace the rubber band I use to tie my hair back with. This left my longish hair flowing down, annoying me each time it got in my face.

  Tyrone was tasked with finding a replacement hair band while I kept Colton busy.

  “If you think these clothes suit me, then we are officially over,” I half-joked, blowing a strand of my hair away from my mouth.

  “Yeah… Fair enough. It does look bad. The jeans ain’t too bad, though, are they?”

  I weaved my fingers in and out of all the frayed openings in the jeans. “Please tell me you’re joking! These things are the worst part. Who the hell looks at clothing and thinks, ‘you know what would improve these? Letting my cat rip them up.’ …An idiot, that’s who.”

  “What about my shirt?” Colton pointed over to his camouflaged-green shirt with the sleeves torn off. “Cut the sleeves off those myself.”

  “Did you that for fashion purposes?”

  “Nah, ‘course not. They felt too tight on my arms. Wanted more movement.”

  “Exactly! Function over fashion. That’s why I wear loose-fitting clothes; flexibility and freedom of movement. But these—ˮ I stretched my leg out, pointing at the vast number of rips, “—THINGS are terrible for movement and provide no warmth or comfort. It’s such a stupid design choice.”

  Colton smirked. I knew exactly what he was about to say. “Could always take ‘em off, Y’know?”

  “Down, boy! Down!” I flicked my wrist, making a whipping sound effect with my mouth. “You aren’t supposed to do anything strenuous until the doctor says so.”

  “Look at me, Gray! I’m feelin’ better already.”

  That was true. Colton had made a great recovery, thanks to the rest and blood transfusion. He was acting like his old self again. The only problem was the deep cut on his arm still needed time to heal. Any heavy activity might reopen the wound.

  “When you’re feeling better, you can be as ‘strenuous’ as you want with me, Colton. Not before, though.”

  “That another promise?”

  I gave a playful wink. “Yup. You know me, I always keep my promises.”

  “Unless I die out there, that is,” I thought.

  We continued with small banter for a while longer, until it came time for me to make sure everything was ready for tomorrow.

  “Time for me to help Tyrone with something.” I got off the bed and stood next to Colton, looking down at him. “You get some rest, okay?”

  “Not like you to do chores around the place…” Colton eyed me with suspicion for the briefest of moments. “Glad to see you helpin’ out when it really matters, Gray. You comin’ to bed after?”

  “Depends.”

  “On what?”

  “How much you pay me.” I pulled a semi-slutty pose… Not that I would know anything about that. “I’m not cheap, darling.”

  Colton reached out across the bed, grabbing my wrist. With one swift tug, he pulled me forward onto the bed, bringing our faces closer together.

  “Better pay half now, then,” he whispered before coming in for a kiss.

  Our lips locked; mouth-to-mouth; tongue-to-tongue; chin-to-butt-chin.

  I pushed in closer and wrapped my arm around his neck, rubbing the back of his bald head.

  That’s when I felt it: sadness, fear, pain, all rolled up into one neat little time bomb of a package.

  This could very well be the last time I saw Colton. I’d fought hard to hide these emotions, barely, but something about that kiss brought it all bubbling to the surface.

  A goodbye kiss. That’s what it felt like.

  I had to get out of there before the emotional bombshell in my chest made me explode all over the walls.

  “Ah-ah-ah,” I tutted, backing away from him. “We wouldn’t want you getting all excited now, would we?”

  “You fuckin’ tease,” Colton said with a look of yearning on his face.

  “Of course! Anyway, I’ll be back later. Now get some rest.”

  I took my leave of the room, trying not to make it look like I was desperate to get out of there.

  In the hallway, just slightly farther down from mine and Colton’s room, I started hyper-ventilating at the thought of never seeing him again.

  “Air! I need air!”

  A cool, refreshing night breeze gently swept over face, calming me down slowly. The light drizzle of rain felt soothing on my face as I stared out over the side of the hotel’s roof into the dark, dead town.

  Watchmen were stationed around the corners, keeping a keen lookout. With thick clouds blocking the moonlight, and without any street lights working, I wondered if they could even see anything in this darkness.

  While gazing out at the obscure outlines of buildings, the same door I’d used minutes ago opened. I didn’t want to look away from the town, but my nose was telling me it was Carl approaching.

  He walked up beside me, leaning with his forearms on the same wall as me. If Carl was here to continue our argument, he was in for disappointment.

  I sure as hell didn’t feel like fighting anymore.

  “When I was younger,” he began talking without any prompt from me, “my parents used to beat the shit out of me. Didn’t seem to matter how hard I tried to do the right thing, my arse got kicked. I realize now that I was the punching bag for their unhappy relationship.”

  “That’s an unbelievably weird way to start a conversation, Carl… How about starting with a ‘hello’ first?” I suggested.

  “Just let me finish, okay?” I could see he wanted to be serious, so I let him continue. “One night, when I was only ten, my dad ran off with another man. As you can imagine, my mother took that out on me too. She’d slap me around, blaming her actions on all the ‘faggots’ and ‘queers’ out there, telling me they were nothing more than shit-stabbers.”

  I looked over at him. “In a way, she
wasn’t wrong about the shit-stabbing bit.”

  A miracle occurred in that moment: Carl smiled. Only for a fraction of a second, but there it was!

  “I grew up in America hating gay people. There was this one scrawny kid from school – Noah Rivers, I think that was his name. Everyone thought he was gay. I used to take out the anger of my dad leaving on that boy.”

  “That’s not very nice.”

  Carl gave a reluctant nod in agreement. “I always thought gay people were these weak fucks with no spine; cowards that would run away from anything instead of facing it like a man, just like my dad had done.”

  “Until you met Colton?”

  He gave another slow nod. “That man is amazing. The things he has done to get our group here… Never even thought about his sexuality until it came up one evening in a drunken chat around a table. Blew my mind open.”

  “Lovely story, Carl. Why are you telling me this?” I asked.

  “Because I wanted to say sorry for calling you a faggot. I thought maybe the backstory would help you understand where I was coming from. In truth, your antics still piss me off, but it was wrong of me to take out my past on you. Forgive me?”

  “Sure,” I answered. “So long as this isn’t some lame attempt to get a blowjob.”

  He let out a stifled laugh, unsure if it was appropriate or not. “A funny guy right up to the end… You know you might die tomorrow? Doesn’t that scare you?”

  “Pfft! Of course not,” I lied.

  Deep down inside, I was terrified at what might happen next. Usually the fear would act more like a stimulant, spurring the thrill-seeker in me on. This time, however, it wasn’t there. This time I was being spurred on by my desire to not see Colton hurt. Whether that will work out better for me, who knows?

  “Hmm, hope so… Your stuff’s in your old room, Grayson. Also, got a car ready for when you wake up. I’ll hide your absence from Colton for as long as I can.”

  “Thanks, Carl.” I gave him a smile to show my appreciation, he did the same before walking away.

  “Don’t screw this up. You’re wanted here,” I heard him say as he went through the door going back downstairs.

  Ten minutes later, I could tell the sun was going to rise soon.

  It was time to head back to my old room for one last sleep before doing one of – if not THE – most dangerous jobs I’d ever done.

  As I tried to sleep in bed without Colton next to me, I lay in total silence, wishing I could hear his breathing or feel his body beside me.

  Maybe it sounds crazy, but I’d have even settled for his thunderous snoring at that point.

  I closed my eyes, trying to drift off to sleep, struggling to control my emotions before they caused me to have a meltdown.

  My door swung open violently with a loud crashing noise, waking me up instantly. The light from outside gave me a clue that I had not been asleep for very long.

  Bethany knelt beside me, shaking me with great urgency.

  Something was wrong.

  “Is Colton all right?” I blurted out, almost instinctively.

  “He’s fine, but you need to get up right now!” She looked terrified. Her usual calm, strong female image was breaking down in front of me.

  “Why? What’s going on, Bethany?”

  Her next sentence sent a disturbing shockwave through my entire body.

  “Aiden’s here. He’s asking to speak to you personally.”

  Chapter 17

  Trapped.

  One Life, for the Many.

  Bethany led me to the roof of the hotel. I was still hastily getting dressed into my dark clothes on the way up. Initially, she had given me a couple of minutes to get my clothes fully on, but I was too eager to find out if her words about Aiden being here were true.

  Not that I had any reason to doubt her, I just had to see it for myself.

  Bethany swung open the door to the roof, holding it open for me. Every watchman was at one side of the hotel, facing in the same direction. Some were looking through binoculars, others just stared with looks of disbelief or horror on their faces.

  Carl was mixed in with the watchmen. When he heard the door open, he shuffled out of the group to talk with me.

  “There you are, Grayson! We—ˮ

  “Is it him?!” I interrupted straight away.

  Carl nodded, handing me the pair of binoculars he had been using. “See for yourself. Look down the road, in front of the hotel entrance.”

  I took the binoculars and made my way to the edge of the roof, using them to see down the street Carl pointed towards.

  My stomach almost turned inside out.

  Aiden, with his golden-blond hair and red, ludicrously-decorated bathrobe, was pacing around, keeping an eye on the hotel. Behind him stood around thirty to forty of his people, all wearing orange and yellow, each with their hair shaved short, but most importantly, all of them carrying a variety of dangerous looking weapons. Some had standard knives, others wielded makeshift weapons, such as baseball bats or wooden planks with nails sticking out of them.

  Yet it was the sight of the many jerry cans that scared me the most.

  I moved the binoculars around to see what else they had. Standing just behind Aiden were three guards, each with bladed weapons pointing downward towards a kneeling Evan, Wendy, and Thomas. All three of our people were bound and gagged. Poor Evan looked roughened up far worse than Wendy or Thomas – he’d likely put up a fight.

  Aiden knew where we were, he had all three of our friends as hostages, and he had brought many of his followers with him.

  We, on the other hand, had been taken by surprise, had a leader who was injured, and certainly didn’t have as many willing fighters as Aiden did.

  Right now, this blond-haired bugger had our balls in an ever-tightening vice.

  “I should’ve gone sooner…” I mumbled dejectedly. My arms fell to my side, binoculars still in hand.

  “You couldn’t have known, Grayson,” Bethany tried to console me. “I doubt you leaving yesterday would’ve helped stop them from coming today.”

  She might’ve been right, but it still felt like my fault somehow. “Bethany, you said he asked for me by name. How?”

  Carl was the one to explain. “Aiden sent a messenger who knew to go straight to the gates of the underground car park. I went to check it out with a small group. The messenger told us that, and I quote, ‘Aiden wants to meet with Grayson Ryder, alone. You have one hour to reply, or else.’”

  Aiden had learned my real name. Originally, I’d told him my name was Matthew Horner, but it was likely he got my real name from any one of his three captives.

  “When did this happen?” I asked.

  Carl thought about it for a second. “Hmm. About fifteen minutes ago.”

  There was still one mystery I wasn’t sure about: why me?

  While we all stared out at Aiden, discussing what to do next, the door to the stairs opened. We turned to see Tyrone walk through, followed by an angry looking Colton.

  “Someone wanna tell me what the hell is goin’ on?” he bellowed out, clearly pissed off.

  Bethany and Carl fell silent. We didn’t have time for silence, though. We only had time for action.

  I turned to Carl and Bethany, telling them, “Get him up to speed!”

  “What about you?” Bethany asked me.

  “I have a date with Aiden,” I said with a feigned confidence. “And he strikes me as the type to get pissed off if someone stands him up. Understand what I’m saying?”

  The two gave me a slight nod, showing they understood. They summoned Colton over to begin explaining everything to him. Once the door was clear, I slipped through it quietly, racing downstairs to go and meet Aiden before this escalated further.

  The air was muggy that morning. Despite a relatively strong sun in the sky, the rain from last night still clung to the ground. I started to sweat, partly because of the sticky heat, mostly because I was now walking down the very street on which
Aiden and his thugs stood.

  The only tools I’d brought with me were the slim flashlight, a pair of leather gloves, and my wits – all of which felt useless to me now.

  Aiden started walking towards me, alone, meeting me away from his guards.

  “I must confess,” he spoke in that heavenly voice once in earshot, “I do prefer the name ‘Matthew’. Grayson doesn’t suit you. Still, it is wonderful to see you again, my friend. I’ve heard such wonderful tales of your achievements.”

  There was no sign of any weapons on Aiden, just a stupid amount of golden jewellery.

  “What do you want, Aiden?” I asked, now standing before him with my arms folded.

  “Many things. But for today, I seek only one thing.”

  “Enlighten me, oh golden one.” I mocked a bow. “What is it thou desires?”

  From the corner of my eye, I could see Evan struggling around desperately. Wendy and Thomas didn’t move much. They both looked defeated.

  Aiden gave me an eerily friendly smile. “That brute, Colton, has much to answer for. I want him before me to answer for his crimes.”

  “Yeah? And what will you do once he’s here?”

  “Administer a punishment befitting said crimes.” That creepy smile of his grew impossibly wide.

  “If that’s true, I’d love to know why you called for me instead of asking for Colton himself.”

  “That animal is more stubborn than anyone I have ever met.” I couldn’t argue with him there. “A simple request will never make him budge. Whereas you, on the other hand, should be able to convince him that turning himself in is what’s best for his people. After all, you two are rather… close, or so I am told.”

  Now it was all starting to add up – I was to play negotiator.

  “I think I see where this is going…” I muttered through grit teeth.

  “Of course you do! You are a smart individual, much like myself. It is part of the reason I liked dealing with you when we first met.” Aiden paced a bit, still maintaining that creepy smile of his. “All I ask is for you to convince Colton to hand himself over to me. In exchange, I shall release all of your friends, leaving this place in peace. In fact, I shall even give you, Grayson Ryder, an opportunity to join me afterwards.”