Dating Rules and Pretty Fools Chapter 28

Dating Rules And Pretty Fools – Ch. 28

By Laura S. Fox

Gay Erotica

Intended for Mature Audiences Only

This story will contain graphic depictions of sexual intercourse, strong language and it is not meant for readers who are less than 18 years of age.

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Chapter Twenty-Eight – Rescue Me

Keres had taken it upon himself to feed him and give him water, and Otis had obeyed without protest, even if the water from the plastic bottle in the man's hand had shaken enough to make most of it spill over his chin and down his shirt. He didn't like it when things got messy, but his need to straighten up his clothes and change into something else had to be reined in. There was no change of clothes available for him. He wasn't at home, but in the hands of a dangerous person, who could change his tune at any moment.

"Let's get you cleaned up," Keres ordered after brushing his gloved hand over Otis's mouth a few more times to remove some wayward crumbs.

Otis had only nibbled at the food, his stomach too tight to accept anything beyond a few bites. He knew that trying to force too much into his belly would only lead to stomachaches and he intended to avoid anything that could make him less fit for the self-saving operation he was trying to concoct in his weary mind.

He accepted the offered hand and walked behind Keres like a child.

"Can I have a pair of socks?" he asked meekly, not as much because he wanted to assure his captor that he had no intention of getting away, but because he still felt faint from the lack of nourishment and water endured over what felt like more than twelve hours. Maybe sixteen. More even. Having no sense of day and night added to his confusion even more.

Keres looked at him and then down at his bare feet. Otis curled his toes into the carpet as if making such a futile effort was enough to protect the patch of skin visible from any bad intentions.

"You have lovely feet," Keres said. "I will kiss them for hours. Before I break each and every one of your little toes." Everything that came out of the metallic throat sounded even, without any inflection, but Otis already knew his captor better than that. Keres looked forward to doing all those horrible things to him. He was excited at the prospect, while Otis felt a cold chill running down his spine. He had to have faith. He hadn't despaired before, and he wouldn't start now.

There was no offer of socks, and Otis didn't insist. They walked out of the room and down the corridor until they reached what had to be a bathroom. The small room was cramped and had only an open shower.

Keres helped him out of his clothes, and Otis had to fight the need to limit how much the gloved hands touched his bare skin. When otherwise violent people chose kindness, it was better to sit still and do nothing in an effort to avoid their wrath. He stood under the warm spray, accepting the way he was being stared at. At least, Keres didn't seem keen on getting wet, and that worked to his advantage. Otis could truly use a break from feeling his skin crawl with apprehension. He hadn't quite gotten that expression when he had learned it for the first time, but it made sense now. The sensation he was experiencing was like that of a thousand creepy crawlers moving all over his skin.

"Such a lovely human being you are," Keres commented as Otis washed himself thoroughly. "You were made for me to love you."

When hateful people used words like `love', it didn't mean anything. They had to be pitied. They had no ability to feel love, whether it was directed at them, or if they imagined they cared for someone else. That thing about pity, Otis didn't understand it. He felt no pity now.

***

Hudson listened as the door opened but made no move to show that he was awake. It was better to pretend as much as possible with this bunch.

"Rise and shine, future stars," Watkins announced in a cheery voice that grated on Hudson's nerves.

The guys began waking up slowly, and Hudson made a show of stretching and yawning, although he hadn't been able to sleep for more than a half hour at a time. His fractured sleep had everything to do with his worries about Otis and what these people might do to him.

"You," Watkins said, pointing at him, "the boss wants to see you."

Hudson worked a kink in his neck and grimaced. "Can I freshen up first?"

"No need for that. Move."

He followed without saying a word. He didn't like it when something happened that he couldn't make sense of. Watkins was right behind him, pushing him in the direction he wanted him to go. Jackie tried to tag along, but Watkins stopped him and sent him back to his chores, barking orders.

Keres was inside one room that must have been reserved to act as sort of a temporary office, and Hudson took his time looking it over, while the big boss appeared engaged in a long phone conversation.

"Yes, I know it is a bit of an inconvenience, but something came up."

Hudson was all ears, even if his eyes were busy looking bored while taking in his surroundings. Keres finally finished his conversation and then placed his gloved hands on the large desk, linking them tightly.

"You wanted to see me, boss?" Hudson asked, standing with his feet apart and his arms crossed to show that he wasn't the kind to be easily intimidated.

"Yeah," Keres said and added nothing for a while.

"Well?" Hudson asked as the silence stretched. Watkins wasn't saying a word, either. Hudson threw him a short look and got nothing in return.

Keres moved slowly, putting a hand in his pocket and then removing something from it. When he placed the thing on desk, Hudson felt his gut twisting. Nonetheless, he lifted his gaze to give Keres a confused look.

"Should we call the only number stored in the phone's memory?" Keres asked.

How had that gotten there? Hudson's mind raced with various possibilities. He hadn't dropped it, not in a million years. Had someone stolen it from him? But who? Jackie? No, that couldn't be, right? Angel, then? He looked like the kind of guy who wouldn't mind searching other people's pockets, and when he had been in Jasper's room, he had taken off his jacket for a bit.

It didn't matter. It could be an exact copy of the kind of burner he used, but he didn't see Keres as the type of guy to bluff.

He shrugged. "Why are you asking me?" He looked again at Watkins; his eyebrows raised in lack of comprehension. "What's going on?"

"Let's see," Keres said and initiated the call without removing his eyes from Hudson.

The call connected on the second ring. But only silence followed. Gavin wasn't born yesterday. For long seconds, nothing happened. And then, a click. The call ended.

"So strange," Keres commented. "But silence is also an answer, isn't that how the saying goes?"

Hudson shrugged again. "I don't understand."

"Oh, really? Isn't this yours?" Keres pushed the phone toward him, but Hudson made no move to pick it up.

"No. Mine is this one," Hudson said and pulled the other phone out of his jeans, making sure to keep the same look of surprise on his face all the time.

Keres made a gesture for him to hand it over, and Hudson walked to the desk and placed it there.

"You took some very interesting pictures," Keres commented. "But they're not on your phone, I bet. Not on your camera, either. Not anymore. And yet, somehow I got my hands on them. You've been keeping things from us, Vegas. Or should I call you John Adam? That is the name you used to sign with us."

"We're in the entertainment business. I bet Angel's real name isn't Angel, either," Hudson said with a shrug. "What pictures are you talking about?"

Keres gave him a long look. "Not the easy to forget kind. I must say, I was impressed from the start. I'm a pretentious man. Very few things appeal to my tastes. But I saw an angel, a real angel, and my heart skipped a beat, as they say in cheap romance novels nowadays."

Hudson kept his eyes looking straight at Keres, as every muscle in his body tensed. He couldn't show it. He knew what pictures that vicious dog was talking about, of course. The pictures he should have never taken. Regret was a bitter dish.

"Well, Mr. Adam," Keres said, "I'm happy I got the chance to see them." He leaned back into the chair and stared at Hudson, long and hard. "Not happy that you kept them for yourself, but since you're in my employ, they're not really yours, are they?"

"I'm not sure I'm following, and I still don't know what pictures you're talking about. Before Mr. Watkins here came to offer me a job, I was in contact with dozens of models. I have no idea who caught your eye."

When Keres tried to smile, his face was straight out of a nightmare in the minutest detail. "I doubt it. I think you know who I'm talking about. Your boyfriend."

"Boyfriend?" His throat was so tight he had to struggle to keep his voice sounding normal. "I don't do boyfriends."

Keres reached into the inside pocket of his jacket, the one next to the heart. For a moment, Hudson had a vision of pulling the beating organ out of the asshole's chest and feeding it to him so that he could poison himself with his own darkness.

Keres pushed the printed photo toward Hudson. "I'm talking about him."

He didn't have to look to know, but he did look anyway. Otis's half-closed eye was staring at him. At the time the photo was taken, the eye had appeared full of wonder, but now Hudson could only read reproach in it. You didn't keep your promise.

"That is my neighbor," he said and frowned slightly. "What's he got with do with your business here, boss?"

"What a question. Don't you have eyes, Mr. Adam?" Keres was using his fake name as a means to get him riled up. Were they still trying to figure out who he was, were they still in the dark? Hudson wasn't so easy to read, or so he hoped. "He's perfect for our opening act."

"I'm pretty sure he's not into this kind of thing," Hudson continued the game. Was Keres the cat, playing with the mouse before striking the deadly blow? His burner was on Keres's desk, out in the open, but his gun was still strapped to his ankle and he could feel it, its reassuring heaviness.

"He can't not be," Keres said. "But you're right. That's why he's a keeper. No, please, allow me to correct that. I will be his keeper."

"He is quite the prude," Hudson argued. "You won't be able to convince him."

"Prude, you say?" Keres leaned over the desk to stare at the photo. "He doesn't strike me as that at all. But of course, his beauty is pure, and justice has to be observed and credit given where due. As for his possible rejection of my offer, you don't have to worry, Mr. Adam. He's already convinced."

"Is he going to be here for the opening?" Hudson asked, his fingers fighting the need to reach for the photo and snatch it from underneath those predatory eyes.

"He is here already. A perfect beauty," Keres commented. "There will never be another one like him. He will become mine truly. Ah, and we thought you should know. The premiere is tonight."

"Tonight? But I haven't even sent out--"

Keres waved impatiently. "You were never in charge of the real thing, Vegas." He was Vegas again. What did it mean? "The premiere is tonight, and I will start my work on my beauty. Dismissed."

Hudson's mind was reeling. He made a move to take his phone, the regular one, but Keres stopped him. "There's also a new rule. No phones until after the premiere. Security issues."

"Okay." Hudson moved his hand away. "Just asking. Is this rule only for me?"

"No. No one is allowed to use a phone until further notice. Wasn't I clear the first time? Dismissed."

Hudson turned on his heel. Why were they doing this? Was his cover blown or not? He couldn't call Gavin or the captain to let them know what was going on. Whoever had gotten into his phone had to do a pretty good job at hacking. Gavin's number had been the last he had called. It had never been listed to be called at a simple touch of the screen.

The game of cat and mouse was on. Hudson had no hope that he wouldn't be followed and every move he made watched and every word he said listened to. Once he was out of the room, he allowed himself one breath. Just one. The countdown had started, and he needed to find a way to let his people know of the change of plans and to find Otis before it was too late.

***

"What's happening?" Jackie greeted him the moment he was back. "They took our phones and it's going down today?"

It seemed that everyone had been informed while the big boss grilled him. Hudson nodded with a grim look on his face. His freedom of movement was limited, but maybe now was the time to take Jackie up on his earlier promises.

"Can you get into a room? If I told you which one?"

"Just because I'm a thug, you expect me to know how to pick a lock?"

"Can you?"

"Yeah," Jackie said, his lips pursed. "What the heck is happening? I'm not doing shit until you rope me in."

"I'll have to make myself scarce. My cover's as good as blown, although they don't have all the facts," Hudson shot the words out like rapid fire. "And they have Otis."

"What the fuck?" Jackie hissed at him. "How is that even possible? Are you going to leave me here? And what do you mean, your cover is blown? How come you're walking still? And Otis?" Questions were tumbling out of the young man's mouth, questions with no easy answers.

"They might have nothing against executing a bit of a manhunt on the premises," Hudson said. "And I'm going to give them one, but first, you need to get Otis out. No one's going to look at you. At least at the moment. I need you to be quick."

Jackie's eyes were darting to and fro. "Man, this shit is—okay, I'll do it. Which is the room? And what am I supposed to do with him?"

"Tell him I'm watching over him, over all of you. But I can't be close, not right now. That's what they expect of me. But you're a whole different story."

"I don't know about that, but heck, it's high time for me to be a hero, right?" Jackie's eyes shone in the artificial light hanging above their heads. There were no windows in most of the rooms.

"Don't do that. Just be careful. Extra careful. And don't look back once you get out of here. I'll take care of the rest, I promise. You take Otis and run. That's all you have to do."

"Okay, okay," Jackie mumbled as if he were trying to convince himself that he could do it. "You take care, too, Vegas. Okay?"

Hudson only nodded shortly. He knew in his bones that he'd been given a short reprieve the same way hunters let their prey entertain the thought of getting away only to release the hounds later.

***

Otis shivered as he lay on the mattress wearing nothing. Keres had left him without his clothes and there was no blanket in the room so he was trying to preserve body heat by curling into himself. At first, he didn't hear the door, so someone's voice calling at him in a whisper took him by surprise.

"Jackie," he muttered when he saw who it was. "What are you doing here?"

"Babe, there's no time for twenty questions. Come with me. Vegas told me to grab you and run."

Otis scrambled to his feet and hurried to take Jackie's hand. It could all be a ruse, and some unspeakable horrors waited for him behind that door, but staying cooped up in that room while being so cold and confused could make him go mad.

"Who's Vegas?"

"I think his real name is Hudson. Come on, babe, it's your neighbor. And your boyfriend," Jackie added. "Let's go."

"I'm naked," Otis pointed out.

"That's crappy, and we have no time."

Jackie took off his jacket and put it around his shoulders and then pulled him along. They were out in the hallway, and Otis felt his teeth starting to chatter as his bare feet touched the cold floor. It didn't matter. He was out of that room, and while he couldn't see the way out, as confused as he felt, here, in the hallway, he felt freer than inside.

He hurried to keep up with Jackie, even if he had cramps in his calves preventing him from walking at full speed. Jackie was fast and held his hand. Both of them had clammy hands, Otis realized. But what was he saying about Hudson? Why would he be here? Why was he called Vegas?

Jackie was right, of course. This was no time for questions. He didn't even dare to look behind them for fear the scarred man would appear out of thin air and chase them down.

The light outside was so bright, it took him by surprise. He blinked a few times and walked close to Jackie.

"Come on, come on, where the hell is that car?" Jackie mumbled under his breath.

They went around a corner and Jackie stopped abruptly.

"Fuck."

Otis didn't condone cursing, but this was the sort of situation where it was warranted.

"The place is swarming with them," Jackie said under his breath. "We need to find another way to get away."

They turned and walked straight into the man named Watkins. Otis felt his gut sinking at the sight of the cruel eyes set on him.

"What do you think you're doing, Jackie?" Watkins hissed. He grabbed Jackie by the arm and shook him.

"What the heck is my boyfriend doing here, boss?" Jackie retorted and shook the man off.

Otis observed the scene, pulling the jacket tighter around himself. Could he make a run for it while Jackie distracted Watkins? But they were in the middle of nowhere--

He froze as someone pushed him from behind. There was a thing, cold and hard, jabbing him in the ribs.

"Jackie, you need to shut the fuck up," Watkins said. His voice was low and menacing.

Otis couldn't understand a thing. The man behind him, someone dressed in black with a mask on his face, was holding him now.

"What the fuck is going on?" Jackie asked through his teeth. "Is that a gun? Hey, man, not cool. Stop threatening my guy like that."

So, Jackie knew Watkins, but he didn't know these were the bad guys? Otis wanted to grab his head and scream in fear and confusion. He took a deep breath. He wouldn't lose his mind.

"This is more than you can handle, boy," Watkins warned Jackie. "And since when do you have a boyfriend? Never mind. He belongs to the boss. Now, shut the fuck up and follow my lead. The boss can't know about you taking his precious angel out for a walk."

Jackie had a wild look on his face. His hair was glued to his forehead, and he appeared to be just as confused as Otis. Even more. And more scared, as well.

"You understand, good. Now, we need to make sure no one talks."

Otis didn't understand what was happening. He only saw Watkins pulling something from his pocket so fast it happened in the blink of an eye, and then a whistle-like sound flicked through the air. The man in black holding him fell off his feet, as if he were a puppet on strings, and someone had just cut those.

"What the--" Jackie choked on his own words. "You killed him!"

That was obvious but had to be said at the same time, Otis realized. No matter how many times Jackie would repeat the same thing, it wouldn't make it sound any more real. Otis stared at the crumpled shape on the ground and began shaking.

"Grab him," Watkins told Jackie and gestured with his long barreled weapon.

It had to be a silencer, Otis thought dimly, all his thoughts a tight coil of more and more confusion.

"Don't make me tell you twice."

"How are you going to explain this?" Jackie pointed at the dead person, his arm shaking violently.

"I won't have to. There will be enough bodies to get rid of by the end of tonight. No one will notice this one is missing."

Otis felt his throat constricting. Oh, no, it was coming, and he couldn't stop it. Numbness stretched from his feet now glued to the ground up and up, along his spine--

"What's wrong with him?" That was Jackie's voice.

He could hear everything just fine. He just couldn't move or react in any way. And his scared mind could bang against the confines of his skull to no avail. He should have stopped it, but he hadn't been able to.

***

He noticed a barrier made of black cars preventing anyone from going into or out of the premises. In all truth, he hadn't expected to be allowed to walk out of there, no questions asked. Or no shots fired. The security detail was a lot more extensive than he had expected. Those were people with shotguns and rifles, so out of the ordinary for a bunch of bouncers hired to keep an eye on clubgoers, even if it was that kind of club.

Good thing he had mapped out the place before, although his gun seemed no match for a dozen or so people armed to the teeth. Hudson pressed his back against a stack of old pipes, considering his options. Was there a way to sneak out? By now, Jackie should have gotten out of there with Otis, although something in his gut was telling him that might not be the case.

If they were guarding the back the same way they were keeping watch on the front, it wasn't going to be child's play to waltz out of there, especially with a rescued hostage in tow. Hudson counted on Jackie being resourceful, but now, he had his doubts. He hadn't expected the people with shotguns and rifles.

He looked out from behind his hiding place. The barrier split to admit another string of black cars. Hudson observed as passengers emerged from those vehicles, the armed men treating them with the sort of courtesy that could only mean one thing.

Those had to be the guests. They all wore masks, even as they emerged from their cars. There were both men and women, and they appeared dressed for a special ocasion such as the premiere of a movie. Some walked in pairs, some alone, but they were all accompanied by one or two people with guns.

Why were they there so early in the day? It wasn't even noon. Hudson took a moment to think. His theory about the manhunt appeared sounder and sounder by the moment. He took in the tall wall on his side. He could attempt to climb it, but it would make him a clear target, and he couldn't risk it.

Unless they were too busy with the guests. He moved closer and then he noticed the metal coils and barbed wire mounted on top. Those hadn't been there before. Hudson crouched and searched the ground for a pebble big enough to work. He aimed at an angle that wouldn't reveal his position and threw the small stone with as much precision as he could. The wires flared at the impact, and there were a few shouts of surprise from the arriving crowd.

Hudson wasn't surprised to hear the couple of shots that followed. They confirmed his suspicions.

He would be hunted. What they probably didn't realize was that he didn't plan on letting them catch him.

***

The world continued to happen, to move outside of him. Otis knew his head lolled to one side, but he couldn't straighten it up even if he wanted to. It was as scary as ever. It was also his way of protecting himself.

"Oh, great, you broke him," Angel said from his left. "Although I guess he was broken anyway. That's just swell. One's a vegetable, and one's a nutso that doesn't move or blink. I hope the third number is better than these two."

"How the fuck are you not freaked out by this shit?" That was Jackie, somewhere to his right, his voice strangled by fear.

Angel laughed, the sound ugly and harsh. "I suppose your uncle thought you needed protecting from this stuff. He even planned on sending you home before tonight."

"The boss just freaking killed someone," Jackie muttered under his breath. "Right in front of me. Bam. Just like that. And stop calling him my uncle, I don't whore myself out to him like you."

"Oh, baby, so you don't know?" Angel laughed again. "There's just one reason the boss keeps you around, although you're dumber than a rock. You shouldn't even be here, but the big boss wants your ass for some reason." He tsked as if he couldn't believe Jackie was so silly not to understand the situation.

Otis registered the details, the tone of voice each of them used.

"Angel, we need to get the fuck out of here. This shit is weird as fuck. Why are so many people with guns all over the place? Let's take Otis and Jasper and make a run for it."

"Don't be stupid. And you and me, we're fine. No one's going to hurt us. These two, however, they'll make an awesome opening."

"The hell you talking about?"

"You really don't know, do you? Damn, you make me want to pat you on your empty head in pity."

"What am I supposed to know? Have you noticed that they locked us in here? We're not safe, Angel. This place is fucked up. And--why the hell are you laughing? You wrong in the head or something?"

"I don't understand how you've managed to stay so blind to everything all this time. Let me spell it out for you, Jackie. This place is a different type of wonderland than what you know. Hell, it's different from everything you've ever seen in your life."

"Stop taunting me and talk," Jackie said.

"Well, where should I even start? You see, I'm on the inside and always have been. It's true that I thought in the beginning that you wouldn't last long until the boss told me you're kin."

"That's bullshit. He would've told me if he were my uncle. Why hide it?"

"Aww, boo-boo, are you going to cry? Because he doesn't need a soft underbelly, you dummy. And seeing how you're not the sharpest tool in the shed, he decided not to tell you so that you wouldn't yap your mouth all over the place like an idiot. Frankly, I believe you grew on him in time. At first, he told me you wouldn't be sticking around too long."

"You're full of shit. Stop talking," Jackie whispered.

Otis could tell there was real pain in Jackie's voice. He would have offered a kind word, but he couldn't move, let alone talk. He was inside that safe coccoon that wouldn't let anything happen to him.

"Oh, but now you've got me going," Angel taunted. "The boss must have had some revelation that he doesn't want to die in a home for old people and somehow imagines you're going to be the guy that will drive him to the doctor and change his diapers when he's too old to do all that for himself. I have my doubts about that, but what do I know? I have no family left."

"For real? I thought you still had your old man." Jackie spoke quickly as if he wanted to escape from there by talking.

"He wanted me to stay at home and straighten my ways. I don't think I meant to hurt him that badly, but heck, he started it. And it looked so much like an accident that I didn't want to spoil it for everyone else who got so excited over his little freakish mishap. Falling from his tractor right into his own bush hog like that, tsk, tsk."

"Now you're talking out of your ass," Jackie said, growing more and more agitated judging by the way his voice sounded.

"Maybe, who knows? But let me tell you this, Jackie. This guy here won't survive the night. They're going to take him apart, little by little, enjoying every second of it."

"Stop talking, that's not true," Jackie moaned as if in pain.

"I've seen it before, my little silly boy. But you were blind to it all. Like when you were trailing after that guy all your waking hours... What did they call him? Sweetheart?"

"Don't you dare," Jackie growled like a wounded animal.

Angel laughed. "You were so heartbroken after, thinking that he left without even giving you his number. Damn, you were so cute and dumb. So many times I wanted to tell you--"

"Tell me what?" Jackie's voice was low and deadly now.

"That it was my greatest pleasure to look him in the eye as he kicked the bucket. Yeah, I did it, Jackie. It's because of me your precious Sweetheart doesn't call."

A shout and the sounds of a struggle followed. It all happened outside his field of view. He couldn't turn his head, couldn't cry, couldn't help.

Otis felt a small tremor growing in his right hand, his fingers tapping, spelling out the letters one by one in a language he believed no one else knew. It didn't matter; no one was coming.

But hope died last, always. So his hand jerked to the rhythm of its own accord.

Rescue me. Rescue me. Rescue me.

TBC

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