DISCLAIMER ==========
This is a work of fiction; any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental. The author asserts all legal and moral rights (copyright (c) 2003 - psun@hotmail.com) to this work and you may not copy it or transmit it in any way except in its entirety and with this disclaimer. This story features descriptions of sex between males: - if such material is prohibited in your jurisdiction, please DO NOT READ ON, - if you're under the legal age to read such material, please DO NOT READ ON, - if you don't like, or are offended by such material, please DO NOT READ ON.
And any comments - brickbats or bouquets, send them over to psun@hotmail.com And if you find that you like what you're reading, visit my page at http://www.geocities.com/savante_2002
It was the worst possible day to die. If I had known that this would happen, I would have stayed home in bed, dragged the covers over myself and not got up at all. Damn the alarm clock.
But of course, it wasn't with the intent of dying that I went to the penitentiary today. Don't get me wrong. I am a good guy, really! AS far as I could recall, the only law-breaking deed I ever did was stealing gum from Mr Wong's local sundry shop when I was 7. And I was caught for that and had to clean his windows for a week. Oh well, there's also the little fact of the speeding ticket that I got just last week.
But by and by, I was a good guy. Bailey James was a bleeding heart as my best friend, Chris, would say. Why else would I have chosen to remain in the county hospital rather than opt for a well-padded, cushioned seat in one of the local private medical facilities in town. And that's why lil ol me volunteered to be a counselor for the local penitentiary. With my credentials, they were all too willing to accept yours truly. So since moving to town about seven months back, I have been visiting the penitentiary every week on Tuesdays and Fridays to listen to the ventilations of the men of Block A and B of the Bludhaven Penitentiary.
As it was Tuesday, I got over there at 3 pm as I usually did. It was the second biggest mistake of my life. Unfortunately, nothing I'd heard from the men in the penitentiary in the past few weeks had alerted me to the fact that several of them had planned a mass breakout at exactly half past 3. After I heard and wondered about the triumphant yells of the prisoners, I hadn't even had time to pick up my briefcase and make my escape. The man that I was talking to had already got my throat in his ham-sized fists and was already squeezing hard.
The next thing I knew, I was right here. In the backseat of my car, heading to God-knows-where, all tied and trussed up like a Christmas turkey. And my chauffeur for the day was the first biggest mistake of my life. The man I couldn't trust myself to be alone in a room with. Let alone in my backseat.
Slade Montgomery. Dark-haired, sexy as sin and with a mouth made for slow kisses and sweet promises. He'd have been one of those pretty boy model/actor types if he hadn't had that huge boulder of attitude on his shoulder and a mind as sharp as anyone I'd ever known. From his file, I knew that he had been a former SEAL with a genius for computech. Trouble was he seemed to be as loose with his temper as he was with his fists. No doubt that hot temper also led him to put a bullet through his ex-wife's head. Till the end, he never admitted to the murder and just sat there silently while the judge passed a damning sentence that would have him looking at life behind bars for the next two decades.
Fresh meat was always welcome in Bludhaven Penitentiary and with his matinee idol good looks and his rep as a top SEAL operative, there was no end of contenders ready to claim a piece of his prime ass. But from the tales that I heard from the other prisoners, it seems that on the day of Slade's shower initiation, there was a whole lot of broken jaws, broken bones and bruises with Slade emerging with only a split lip and a couple of bruised knuckles. No one dared touch him after that and Slade remained the untouched virgin bride of Bludhaven.
Slade had been my first patient when I'd started work and.. ironically, it seemed he would also probably be my last. For the past six months, I had talked to him and passed him the letters that he still received weekly from his 4 year old son. And each day, I became more convinced that the man couldn't have done what he was supposed to have done. Not only was the man supposed to have shot his wife, he had also sliced her up and dismembered all her limbs. From the weekly meetings that we had, it seemed inconceivable that he - a man who drew little cartoon figures for his son - could have done just such a... inhuman, monstrous act.
There was no doubt that the man could kill and I had absolutely no doubt that he'd kill if there was simply no other choice. It was his job after all and I'd seen the stack of commendations he'd received. But in such a grisly fashion? From what I'd seen and heard, he seemed to be a man who had a great deal of respect for life . If for some reason Slade killed, he would be quick, clean and methodical. He certainly wasn't the type who'd slash, slice and label the pieces afterward. It could only have been done by someone who truly enjoyed their craft, who savoured each killing with a relish - quite unlike the man I'd gotten to know.
And even if he had murdered his wife in cold blood, for a man as brilliant as he, I sincerely doubted that he'd have been caught as easily as that. The incongruity had puzzled me for some time but although I'd looked through his case files, I saw nothing but evidence that pointed to him as the most logical suspect for his wife's murder.
But something continued nagging at me.
Of course a large part of it was the fact that the man stirred something in me. After all with my erratic work schedule, he was the one man I'd seen regularly for the past six months. And I certainly looked forward every week to seeing him. Like a penfriend or an e-mail correspondent, he was my most loyal contact. I wondered what it was in me that made me feel something for a man who had been convicted of such a heinous crime. Definitely something to analyze over a couch for years afterward. From the first time I opened the door and I saw those dark, unfathomable eyes, I had been attracted to the man. Sure, in the beginning, I admitted it was his amazing looks that drew me but I consoled myself that great muscles and a sexy smile certainly couldn't hold my attention for more than six months. Especially if there was nothing behind that handsome facade. But to my chagrin, the package also included an IQ near as high as mine and a devilish sense of humour.
The chemistry was still there six months later but I had started becoming a little more guarded with the man. At times, it had seemed as if he might be flirting with me but I dismissed the very notion. It was impossible. There was simply no future falling for a man who was not only straight and a convicted murderer but would also be incarcerated in a cell for the better part of his life.
"You okay back there, doc?"
The voice jolted me from my reverie. I'd always liked hearing Slade's voice. The deep, mellow baritone with the slight Irish tilt. Right now however, I felt like shoving my boot into his no doubt smirking face. "Slade, take my car but let me go. It would be worse for you to be indicted for kidnapping too."
There was laughter from the front - cold, lifeless and with a meanness that I had not expected from him. "Doc, I am already in for twenty. Do you think another year or two is gonna matter that much to me?"
"And to think there were times I thought you were bloody innocent," I mumbled through gritted teeth. Earlier, I had already tested my bonds but Mr Ex-SEAL was obviously an expert at tying knots too. There was a little give but there was no way I'd be able to somehow get loose. Obviously the commendations he'd gotten hadn't lied. He was good.
His eyes met mine over the rearview mirror, the deep, clear blue eyes narrowed with cruel intent. "Your mistake, Doc."
Logic easily told me that a convicted murderer couldn't be trusted but somehow, it still felt like a betrayal and anger flared. "Is this the example you're setting for your son? That his father is a fucking bastard?" Infuriating the kidnapper certainly wasn't something that I'd recommend but I just couldn't help it. Together in such close confines, I could smell the man's scent and the very fact that I still felt an attraction infuriated me. Damn the man for smelling so good. What the hell did he shower with?
Those broad shoulders lifted in a quick, careless shrug. "You can tell him that yourself. We're going there tonight."
Struggling against my bonds, I cursed loud enough for him to hear.
Slade shifted the mirror and flashed a quick smile at me. "Damn, Doc, I never knew you had such a mouth on you. And here I thought you were so goody-two-shoes squeaky clean."
In a short, succinct phrase, I told him to attempt something anatomically almost impossible which made him smile wider. "Hell, even I am not that limber, Doc, but I guess you'll find that out for yourself tonight."
The sudden heat in his eyes left me in no doubt of his meaning. A while back I might have leapt at the chance to get horizontal with him but right now as his hostage, I somehow didn't find it all that appealing. Well, perhaps a little less appealing. "I'd rather be dead than do anything with you, asshole." I told him quietly from the back.
"No, you don't. I've seen you looking at me, Doc. You're gay and you're hot for me." Before I could refute his words, Slade continued smoothly. "Don't deny it. You're the kinda guy who can't lie worth a damn, trust me."
"Trust you? Like hell!" I sputtered. His words stung but then the truth usually did. Even if he had butchered his wife as the courts had decided, I still would have leapt at the chance to be alone with him. Irrestible men with stunning physiques and flashing eyes usually did that to me. Hence my continued avoidance of him.
"Ah, but you still haven't denied it. You want to jump my bones, don'tcha honeybuns?" he grinned, giving me a flash of charm that stunned me like a livewire.
"Yes, I am gay. No, I don't want to have anything to do with you." I intoned clearly, word for word. Admitting I was gay was simple enough since I had never hidden the fact from anyone, not even from him. But it was pure orneriness that had me saying that I didn't want him getting down and dirty when even as I said it, I could easily picture jumping him right in the spacious backseat of the BMW. Licking the man from the top of his delectable dark head down to his sexy feet. Slurp!
As if confirming something he'd already known, Slade nodded knowingly. "Yeah. You are a bad liar."
Glaring at his dark head, I kept stolidly silent for a while, stewing all the while about what he had just said. Moments later however, I found that I couldn't help blurting out: "But damn it, you're not gay!"
His broad shoulder lifted in a dismissing shrug. "Guess there are lots of things you never knew about me."
Something in what he said made me suspicious. As I ran his words through in my mind, my heart started thudding in my chest wildly. It was a question that I'd never broached in all my time here but with present circumstances, I felt that I had nothing to lose in finding out. My eyes narrowed and I asked him quietly, "So you really did kill Amanda?"
"So you think I killed Amanda?" He was silent for a moment and my heart stopped for a beat as I waited for his answer. "Doc, you have known me better these six months than - well, hell, better than anyone else has ever known me. What do you think?"
"Right now, I don't know what to think," I answered honestly. From my vantage point, I could barely see out the window but I could make out the angle of the sunlight. It was getting darker and I vaguely judged it around 7. The cool, mellow jazz he had playing in my car screened out any background noise I could hear apart from his voice. "Where the hell are you going? Your son's with your sister, isn't he?"
"Yeah, Doc, but we aren't going to pick Sam yet. We're dropping by your place first."
He spoke as easily, as calmly as he would at a tea party though I couldn't imagine the bronzed stud fiddling around with my aunt's dainty teacups. It was disconcerting hearing him speak that unemotionally and I wondered whether he'd done the same to his wife. "You don't know where I live," I said matter-of-factly.
"Sure I do. I am a good listener. And I do love listening to you, baby." He taunted me. Slowing down the car, Slade glanced back for a second and flashed a teasing grin. "Look, I stink to high heaven and I need a bath. Surely you wouldn't begrudge a vicious murdering convict some soap, water and perhaps a hot meal to go?"
My thoughts racing, I sat there silently. The cops would probably be waiting at my place. I was listed as a visitor at the prison and surely even with the chaos, they'd have noticed that I was missing by now. The thought of having the man caught and apprehended pleased me but there was a niggling, insane part of me deep inside that voted to have him go free. It was also the part that wanted him in my shower, tied up, sweaty and naked.
My silence had him continuing. "I know what you're thinking, Doc. That someone noticed that you'd disappeared and the cops would come looking. Well, don't get your hopes up. The only person who knows you were in that cell is me. The guards won't be talking..."
My throat clogged up as I remembered the faces of the men who'd let me into the conference room. Had Slade killed them? With what? Stabbed them with my pen? Choked them with my stethoscope? Or was it Brian, the thug that I was interviewing at that time? "Did you... did you..?"
His reply was as grim as his expression. "No, I couldn't get to them in time."
The bruises on my neck reminded me of the beefy blond bruiser who'd had his beefy fingers around my throat. And the obscene things he'd said to me about what he wanted to do to me. It involved me becoming his slutty new bride in the penitentiary. Of course if the man in question had been Slade, I doubt I'd have put up any kind of a fight. "And Brian?"
His lips flattened into straight line. "Let's say you won't be seeing him anytime soon."
The grim look on his face made me not want to check my pockets for my pen. God knows what the man could do with that.