I’ll find a way to get you out of here, Maddy. I
will.
He hugged him tighter, throat hurting as it began to
knot and tighten.
I
won’t let them do to you what’ve they done to me.
Threshold of Hell
He sensed the lingering presence of the
visitor before he discovered the evidence. The scent of his cologne
somehow lingered even after days; a masculine aroma that Horatio
was well acquainted with. It hadn’t been so long since that scent
had invaded his nostrils, intoxicated his senses as he’d held the
man in his arms, made love to him like there was no tomorrow. And
in truth…there had been no tomorrow after that last time.
The bedroom remained as his secret visitor
had left it; scotch glass sitting before the framed photo of days
long past, crumpled blankets where the much coveted body had lain
and perhaps contemplated what life
could have
been under other circumstances.
The pillow retained the depression where his head had rested.
Horatio laid down on the opposite side of the bed, on his side, arm
tucked under his cheek as he imagined Max still there, on his bed,
aching for the love that had been ripped from their hands, yet the
residue of which lingered painfully in their hearts.
Horatio turned onto his back, his gaze coming
to rest on the tiny red light, barely detectable in the high corner
of the bedroom ceiling. Had Max known Horatio would have eyes on
him? His head twisted and he stared at the scotch glass, a residue
of amber liquid in the bottom. He hadn’t tried to hide his presence
here.
He wanted you
to know.
Leaving the bed, Horatio retrieved the
security footage and watched in quiet anguish as Max moved through
his apartment as if he were venturing into forbidden territory, and
perhaps that’s how the man saw it. He watched Max holding the
photo, the weight that seemed to press down on his shoulders. Then
he set the scotch glass on the night stand and lay on the bed,
gazing at the ceiling, and then–‘
I love you, Horatio
.’
Horatio replayed it over and over, his heart
coming apart a little more each time Max spoke the words.
“I love you too.” He whispered, his head
sinking into his hands, fighting against the urge to rush to the
man and beg him to say it to him, face to face.
***
Angel had been gone a short while before Dane
ventured back out into the club and approached the bar. Cole and
Gabe had migrated from the table–now that the show was over–and
lingered on the bar stools previously occupied by Wade and his
jumpy friend.
“How you doing, buddy?” Cole asked softly, a
sympathetic smile on his face. “Sit down, I’ll buy you a cold one
to soothe your nerves.”
Gabe chuckled and shook his head.
“Fuck you.” Dane grumbled and slid onto a
stool. “There’s nothing wrong with my
nerves
. I don’t know what the fuck
you’re talking about.” He nodded at Carl, who handed him a chilled
bottle of Coors.
“You didn’t seem too thrilled by Ricky’s
lessons.”
“Whatever.” He mumbled and swallowed half the
bottle of beer. “Ain’t none of my concern.” He took another drink,
eyes tight, hard. “I mean, what do I care if Ricky teaches Angel
how to be slut? No skin off my nose.”
Yeah. Sure
. Cole looked at Gabe and smirked.
“So,” Gabe joined in. “Did you talk to him
when he got off stage?”
“Who?” Dane muttered.
“Uh,
Angel
.” Gabe chuffed.
Dane shrugged. “Why would I talk to him?”
“No, he just eavesdropped on us.” Ricky slid
onto the stool next to Gabe and wink down at Dane.
“Fuck you, I wasn’t eavesdropping.” Dane
snapped.
Ricky leaned close to Gabe, cocked an eyebrow
and nodded silently. A gesture Dane didn’t miss.
“I said I wasn’t
fucking
eavesdropping.” Dane
hissed.
“Easy, baby.” Cole touched his shoulder and
smiled. “No need to get riled.”
Dane shrugged his hand off with annoyance and
tipped the bottle to his lips again, knuckles straining as he
gripped the glass container fiercely.
“So anyway,” Ricky chimed. “Angel says he
isn’t looking for a boyfriend. But I think he’s lying. So…” He
glanced at the three men, eyes lingering briefly on Dane who
refused to look at him. “I was thinking of maybe trying to talk him
into going on a date with me.” He smiled. “Unless, of course,
anyone here has dibs on him?” Again, his gaze settled on Dane.
“Cole and I pretty much keep each other
busy.” Gabe smirked. “So…we don’t have an issue with it.” He
glanced past Cole. “How about you, Dane? You got a problem with
Ricky asking Angel for a date?”
With a stiff grunt, Dane stepped off the bar
stool without looking at any of them. “I really don’t give a fuck
what he does.”
When he walked away in an obvious huff, Ricky
chuckled. “Fuck, he’s got it bad, doesn’t he?”
“To put it mildly.” Cole laughed low. He
looked at Ricky. “By the way, he thinks you’re a slut.”
Ricky chuckled and grabbed up the beer Carl
set before him. “I am.” He grinned and chugged the drink.
***
Wade and Axel were bad enough on their own,
but things always got worse when Byrd showed up. He was a couple
years older than Wade, and when he was around, he was the
alpha
. Even
Wade listened to him. Angel wasn’t sure how they got hooked up with
Byrd, or where he even came from really. Wade had just showed up
one day with the man in tow, saying something about meeting him at
the bar, and he was cool. That was about six years ago, right after
Wade and Axel’s dad, Wayne, had died in a drunk driving
accident.
For a brief moment, Angel had been sure
things would get better after that. Wayne had been his and Maddy’s
stepdad, and their sole provider when their mom had passed away
when Maddy was eight and Angel was eleven. The man had no real use
for them–but neither had their mother really. She had met Wayne
when he’d come by to buy some crack from her and Gary, Angel and
Maddy’s real father. Angel vaguely remembered him, and didn’t care
for the memories he did retain. The man had been weasely and
sometimes looked at Angel in ways that had scared him. But Wayne
had run him off when he’d decided he wanted to fuck their mom.
Angel hated Wayne, but at least the guy had had no sexual interest
in young boys.
Then when Wayne died, Angel was convinced he
and Maddy would be taken into the custody of the state. Anything
had to be better than where they were at. But Wade was almost
twenty by then and the state seemed to have no qualms about leaving
them in that home.
Angel glanced across at Maddy now. The boy
lay on his back on his bed, headphones on and his old Walkman
blasting as loud as it could go. Angel realized they were way
behind the times. The only music Maddy had were some old cassettes
and that Walkman that Angel had bought for a couple bucks at a
second hand shop.
His eyes lingering on his little brother,
Angel leaned his back against the bare wall. The bedroom was
grungy, like the rest of the apartment. A couple mattresses on the
hard, bare floor for beds. A pillow case stapled over the window
for a curtain. And the constant stale stench of rats, seeping out
of the large hole in the wall near the floor in the far corner of
the small room. The skittering of the vile little creatures inside
the walls never ceased, and at night Angel could hear them
venturing out into the bedroom. But he was used to rats–both the
rodent and human versions.
A sudden burst of raucous laughter erupted
from the kitchen. Angel looked at the bedroom door. There were no
locks. Not even a chair to wedge under the door handle. He could
hear Byrd’s deep voice as he spoke much louder than necessary, as
they always did when they started drinking. Angel hated it when he
was here. He was the one who had planted the idea in Wade’s head
that maybe his little brothers weren’t totally useless.
***
The empty beer bottle shattered in the sink. “This
is fucking great.” Wade muttered and grabbed up a fresh bottle of
beer then dropped into the hard kitchen chair. Empty cigarette
packs and overflowing ashtrays littered the table, along with an
array of empty beer cans and bottles. He snapped off the cap of the
bottle and flicked it across the kitchen. “What the fuck are we
supposed to do with these little shits?” He chugged the beer then
wiped his mouth. “Raise them as our fucking own?”
Axel said nothing. He clearly knew better than to
make remarks when Wade was pissed off.
Huddled on the worn sofa with Maddy,
thirteen-year-old Angel hugged his little brother close and tried
to keep his focus on the television screen, most of which was snow
mottling the picture, but behind which cartoon characters went
through their antics. Angel cast discreet glances at his
stepbrothers and their new friend, Byrd, lounging at the kitchen
table.
“
Fuck.” Wade snorted and thumped a cigarette butt
out of one of the ashtrays. “If they were girls, we could at least
pimp them out to horny men and make a butt load of cash.”
Axel chuckled and took a drag off a cigarette,
shooting a quick look into the small adjoining living room. “Yeah.”
He grunted. “No shit. Angel would be just the right age too. Lots
of guys out there who would love to get their dicks in some young
virgin pussy. So tight and hot. Mm!” He shook his head and grinned.
“Fuck, it’s giving me a boner just thinking about it.”
“
A bitch dog in heat would give you a boner.” Byrd
drawled, then smirked.
“
Fuck you, asshole.” Axel sneered but laughed
anyway.
Byrd’s eyes settled heavily on Angel, and he tried
not to look at the guy. When he spoke, his words were directed at
Wade. “Why do they have to be girls?” he wondered. “There’s plenty
of horny perverts out there who prefer a tight little boy ass to
shove their cock in.” He sucked on a half spent cigarette, gaze
resting on Angel. “You could still make a shit load off their sweet
little asses.” He chuckled low. “Literally.”
Fear coursed through Angel when Wade looked at him
and Maddy. “You serious?”
“
Fuck I am.” Byrd nodded and ground out the butt
on the table. “And besides, Angel’s kind of pretty. The little fag
boy is probably more girl than boy anyway. I mean, fuck, I’d pay to
have that cute little mouth on my cock.”
Axel cracked up. “Ahh! You fuckin’ queer.” He shut
up abruptly when Byrd slapped him in the side of the head hard,
tears welling in his eyes. “Asshole.” He swallowed hard.
“
I ain’t no fuckin’ queer.” Byrd stated dryly.
“I’m just saying…Angel is enough like a girl for even a straight
guy to want at least a blow job from him.”
Wade leaned forward on his elbows and smiled wryly.
“So how much would you pay for the little faggot to suck your
cock?”
Smirking, Byrd leaned back and dug down into the
front pocket of his jeans. Angel stared at him, horrified by the
direction their conversation had taken. The guy produced a small
wad of crumpled bills and some loose change and smacked it down on
the table, grinning. Wade grabbed up the bills and began smoothing
them out. He nodded towards the living room without shifting his
eyes from the money. “Go on.” He murmured. “Collect.”
When Byrd scooted his chair back and stood up, Angel
noticed the bulge in his crotch. His pulse spiked and he lunged off
the sofa away from the approaching man. “Stay away from me!”
“
Come on, beautiful.” Byrd smiled, one hand
grabbing his crotch. “It’ll be fun. If you’re gonna be a little
fag, you gotta learn to suck cock. That’s a requirement. Can’t be
in the queer club and not know how to blow.”
“
No!” Angel was crying.
Maddy looked at him then at Byrd, eyes frightened.
“What’s wrong?”
“
Nothing, little buddy.” Byrd assured. “Just watch
your cartoon. Me and the angel here are just going to take a little
trip to heaven.”
“
Stay away from me!” Angel cried again then ran
for the bedroom. Byrd followed at a casual pace as Axel and Wade
laughed, and Maddy huddled lower on the sofa, face buried in his
arms, trembling.
***
Angel stared blankly at the bedroom door,
arms curling around his waist, vision blurring. Byrd had trapped
him the bedroom and threatened to collect from Maddy if Angel
didn’t blow him. He didn’t know how to relax his jaw or his tongue,
and gagged repeatedly on the guy’s engorged member. When he finally
came, it had shot across the back of Angel’s tongue and slid down
his throat, thickening as it went. He’d vomited right there on the
floor, then had to clean up the mess himself.
He leaned his head back and closed his eyes,
stomach hurting from tension.
That wasn’t the last time Byrd had paid for
his
services
.
Deliverance
Seeking out the
least
twink-like customer in the
club, Dane made his move. The last thing he needed was to be making
up to a guy who reminded him of Angel in any way whatsoever. But he
was pretty sure there was no danger of that with this one. The man
was well muscled, thick through the waist, indicating he hadn’t
applied the proper exercises to maintain that narrow, lean waist
that made a muscular man more appealing–to Dane anyway. But he
didn’t care, he wasn’t looking for a date or a life partner. He
just needed someone as far from Angel’s appearance as he could get,
to distract him from his unwelcome thoughts of the boy.
Angel had yet to return to the club, but
would surely be showing up soon.