This is a story involving love between an adult man and a boy. There will be sexually explicit parts in places, though sex is not the central theme. It also explores themes that some may find disturbing. Nobody is forcing you to read anything that you dislike, or to continue reading about matters that upset you. While the story is complete fiction, it is not written in a vacuum.

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By villager@hushmail.me 

Abuse – Part 7

continued from part 6 ...

Right,” said John after they were back in the house, “We'd better get the two spare bedrooms cleared out, and I'll get a couple of beds to put in them.”

Why?” asked Matthew.

It looks like your dad isn't going to be able to look after himself for a while,” John explained, “So he had better stay with us. It has to at least look as if we are each in a separate bedroom.”

Matthew jumped up at John and hugged him. As John was returning the embrace, the phone rang. It was Joan. John gave her an update on Jake, and told her of his plan to have Jake stay with him until he was independent. Joan and John discussed the practical details of such a move.

By late evening Matthew and John had cleared the two rooms so that they were ready to be kitted out suitably for their new function.

The following day Matthew and John left the house early to go shopping, and John left Matthew to make most of the choices regarding beds and furniture for the two rooms. Delivery of the bulk of the furniture had been arranged for the following day, but John put two flatscreen TV sets in the car, and after a quick lunch he mounted these on the walls of the bedrooms, ably assisted by Matthew, who John discovered had quite a reasonable ability in DIY.

The doorbell rang. Matthew answered it and was surprised and delighted to see Joan. “We thought we'd surprise you,” she said, “John and I arranged for me to bring that over for when your Dad gets out of hospital.” Joan pointed to the large “people carrier” parked by the kerb. “It's on lease from a company that supplies vehicles for the disabled, and comes with a wheelchair and wheelchair access,” she explained.

After having a cup of tea, they all piled into the new vehicle and drove to visit Jake in hospital. On the way, Matthew and John both thanked Joan for her help. “With the company closed between Christmas and New Year, I was glad of having something to do,” she assured them.

Jake had been moved to a regular ward, and was happy to see them, but still uncomfortable with Matthew, feeling very guilty and remorseful. Joan and John left the two of them alone and sought out Gareth. When they arrived back at Jake's bedside, Jake appeaed to be quite emotional.

Matthew tells me that you've offered to let us stay with you until I can cope on my own,” Jake said to John, “I really don't know what to say … would you mind if I spoke to John alone for a bit?”

I need to get a few groceries,” answered Joan, and then to Matthew, “What say you come with me and leave your Dad and John to chat?”

After they had left, Jake said, “I managed to get Gareth to tell me what happened on Christmas day.”

John was unsure of how much Gareth had said. John took Jake's good hand. “It's unimportant,” he said.

You saved Matthew's life,” Jake contradicted him, “How can you say that is unimportant?” He then added bitterly, “After I drove him to suicide.”

Gareth had obviously been quite a blabbermouth! “Matthew doesn't blame you for that,” John stated, “And nor do I now.” John looked into Jake's eyes with a serious expression, “It's the future that's important now, Jake.”

Matthew says you've spent a fortune on him and I already,” said Jake, “I don't know how yet, but I will pay you back every penny.” Jake vowed.

I have more than enough money,” John dismissed his concern, “And what you don't know is that Matthew has done more for me than any amount of money could have done.”

Jake looked surprised. “I can tell you that you mean a lot to my son,” he said, “I should have seen that he has come to mean a lot to you as well. While I've been ...” Jake's eyes misted over. Then his face took on a resolute look, “But as you said, it's the future that's important. Thankyou, John, for a second chance. I will not waste it!”





Matthew hopped in the car and Joan drove them to a nearby convenience store. It was only late afternoon, but, being December, had already become dark. Joan bought a few groceries, and Matthew picked up the plastic carrier bag and they set off on the short walk to where the car was parked.

A dark hooded figure suddenly sprang out of a doorway in front of Joan. A knife glinted in his hand. “Gimme yer bag,” he said in a rough voice.

Matthew dropped the carrier bag, and sprang at the assailant. “You leave Auntie Joan alone!” he shouted loudly, punching the figure ineffectually in the side of his ribs. Then he let out a scream as the knife flashed across his chest.

Piss off you little shit,” the attacker growled, and then he also let out a scream, “Ahh … My eyes!” The knife clattered to the ground as he raised both hands to his face. “I can't see!”

Joan pushed the attacker away and grabbed Matthew's arm, pulling him at a run to the car. As she bundled Matthew into the back, Joan saw with dismay the blood already dripping from him onto the seat. Quickly taking off her coat, she folded it and pressed it to Matthew's chest. “Hold that against you, tight,” she instructed, and then started the engine and sped off back to the hospital, this time turning into the emergency area instead of the car park. Despite her small size, she lifted Matthew easily from the back seat and ran with him through the door of the building.





John and Jake had talked about Jake's condition, and the regime that the hospital physiotherapist had suggested. John's mobile phone rang. Embarrassed because he should have turned it off according to hospital regulation, he took it out to silence it. Seeing Joan's name in the display however, he answered the call, getting a dark look from a nurse. “I'll be back in a while,” he told Jake.

Jake had seen the look on his face. “Why, what's wrong?” Jake asked, but John was already walking rapidly away.

John joined Joan in the emergency treatment cubicle in which Matthew was lying. Matthew grabbed John's hand as soon as it was within reach. He smiled, “I'm OK, John, I might have a scar!” A nurse was putting the last bit of dressing on Matthew's chest.

Joan rapidly explained to John what had happened. “Fortunately the cut is not too deep, but he lost a fair bit of blood,” Joan told John, “He distracted the mugger just long enough for me to get my spay from my bag, though it would have been better to have let the thief take it,” Joan turned to Matthew, “Handbags can be replaced, Matthews cannot!”

A nurse interrupted. “There's a police officer just outside who would like to speak with you,” the nurse said to Joan.

I only reported the attack 30 minutes ago,” remarked Joan.

We've got your attacker in custody,” the police officer told Joan, further increasing her surprise at the speed the police had reacted, “Or at least we are pretty certain he was your attacker. It was reported by a witness who saw your attack from his flat window. A police unit was close by, and apprehended the suspect who appeared to be somewhat incapacitated.” The officer then continued, “The suspect was also in possession of some items that we think were stolen from a woman who was robbed a short while before you were attacked. We have charged him with her murder.”

Murder?” asked Joan, “That means that the other woman is … dead?”

Stabbed to death,” confirmed the policeman, “A witness saw him take the woman's handbag and then, after he already had her bag, he stabbed her multiple times despite the fact that she apparently did not resist the robbery. We found the knife, and it is being examined by forensics. If we find the deceased woman's DNA and the suspect's fingerprints on it, which we think we will, he is almost certain to be convicted.”

Good grief!” exclaimed Joan, shocked.

There is one other small matter,” the police officer continued. “From what the suspect has said, I gather that you escaped his attack by spraying some sort of noxious substance in his eyes.” Joan started to say something, but the police officer held up his hand to stop her.

You will be aware that pepper spray and similar chemicals available for self-defence in other countries are classed as offensive weapons and are thus illegal for members of the public to possess in the UK,” the officer stated, “The suspect was permitted to wash his face before we thought to test the chemical on his skin, so we cannot know what it was, but I was pretty certain from my observation of the effects that you sprayed him from a can of perfectly legal hair spray, and have stated as much in my report. I know that at least one brand can cause similar effects to pepper spray.” The officer named a popular hair care product.

Joan nodded in understanding. “That's the brand I use,” she said.

Good,” said the officer. Now that's clear, one of my colleagues will be along shortly to take an official statement from you – and also from the child who was injured by the robber if he is up to it. We also need permission to take a sample of the boy's DNA to see if it matches the blood on the knife.”

Matthew, I take back what I said earlier,” Joan said to him after the officer had left, “What you did probably saved my life!” Joan repeated what the policeman had told her about the robber's earlier victim to John and Matthew.

A short while later a man in plain clothes arrived and took down Matthew and Joan's personal details, then questioned them about the attack, making notes on a notepad. He also produced a digital camera and asked permission to take a photograph of Matthew and Joan for the records. When he was just about finished, a police officer arrived, and announced that he was there to take a statement from the two. Joan was perplexed. “But I thought you have just taken our statements?” she asked the plain-clothed gentleman.

Oh, I have, and thankyou for giving them” he confirmed, “But I expect the police also need your statements. I'm just a newspaper reporter!” With that he smiled and quickly left.

Dammit, I've just been had!” Joan muttered angrily.

Before they could begin giving their accounts once again to the officer, yet another uniformed policeman arrived, this time in the company of a tall dark-haired woman.

I'm DC Bowers of the public protection unit,” the officer announced, showing his warrant card, “And this is Ruth Briars from social services. We have had a report that this child has injuries on his back consistent with serious child abuse.”

The woman had walked around behind Matthew, who had his top off for his chest injury to be treated and was now sitting up on the side of the treatment table. She looked at the marks on his back and nodded to the officer.

I will be taking the boy into protective custody,” DC Bowers stated, “And I believe Ms Briars has a court document for an emergency care Order.”

Matthew's face screwed up in horror. “No, you can't!” he protested.

Yes we can,” said the social worker nastily, “And anyone who tries to stop us will be arrested!”



To be continued …

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