Seized and Treacherous - Chapter 7
Seized and Treacherous
by Masked Truth
It’s nice to be back writing again. I miss it so much. Plus it serves as a great distraction for all the things going on in my life! I’m sorry that I let you guys (and girls?) think that I’m abandoning this story. Lemme assure you — it ain’t gonna happen. I may take long breaks once in awhile, but I promise I won’t leave this story hanging in the middle of nowhere without closure.
For those interested, my latest excuse for being late is moving to a cheaper place which badly needed cleaning up, working 65 hours a week on two jobs so I can save up enough for University, and all the while struggling to maintain an already falling apart social life. Of course, there’s also the boy drama, but I’d like to think I’m moving on.
On another note, I’ve been getting requests to make a mailing list to announce new chapters. If you want in, just send me an email about it and I’ll add you.
Important disclaimer:
This series contains mature themes, violence, gore & homosexual sex. You should be at least the legal age of your country to read this story. The author of this series may take unusually long breaks between chapters unannounced. Just checking if you’re reading. Wish I could say “just kidding”, but there are digital evidences and witness testimonies proving otherwise!
Comments, criticisms and mailing list requests goes to:
Enjoy the 7th chapter of this series.
Chapter 7
It was barely ten in the morning and the air was already thick with excitement. There was busy chatter among the spectators as the athletes carefully stretched their muscles in the green fields. Even the tracks looked like they were recently polished in preparation of today.
The Sports Event was meant to be the day I was looking forward to for a long time. But that was no longer the case — I was only here today because I needed to find Riley. I had to somehow explain to him that I wasn’t planning to kill Benjamin Connor. I never was. Was I? No, of course I wasn’t. Fuck. I better be more convincing when I find Riley.
Just like every other year, the event was huge. I wouldn’t be surprised if the entire school was present in the football stadium with their extended family — it took me at least thirty minutes of walking around before I spotted one of Riley’s football buddies. I quickly pushed my way towards the jock and tapped on his shoulder.
“Hey, have you seen Riley?” I asked hopefully.
The jock gave me an expression which betrayed his lack of ability to make simple deductions. “He’s here?”
I sighed. “Never mind.”
The quarterback was a football jock, not an athlete, so I didn’t understand why he would be here at the Sports Event. A man whom I assumed was his father had answered the phone when I called and he told me Riley and his mother would be here. I didn’t enjoy the prospect of bumping into my track team mates after the way I left things yesterday, but I had to make Riley understand.
“Gary!” hollered a voice behind me, which I immediately recognised as Bass even before I turned around. “So you decided to run? I knew you’d come around!” he beamed at me excitedly.
I shook my head. “I’m not here to run — have you seen Riley?” I asked instead. It was then I noticed the sprinting gear he had on. At first I thought Bass was my replacement runner, but then I remembered it was just how my friend was. Most jocks in Green High mistake sportswear as trendy, but Bass took it a step further by wearing the real stuff. He was probably more prepared to sprint on those tracks than the actual runners right now.
Bass was visibly disappointed. “Oh, I thought... nevermind. I haven’t seen him today. You here for Julie then? “
I felt a pang of guilt when he mentioned Julie. She was running today and I haven’t even thought about supporting her. “I’ll be back before she starts,” I told him instead. “Save me a seat will ya? There’s something I need to do first.”
“Whatever. She’s on in twenty minutes, so hurry up.”
I thanked him apologetically and continued my search in the direction I was looking before Bass had caught me.
Ten minutes later I was still looking around for the damn quarterback — I swear the number of people in the stadium had doubled within the past five minutes. It suddenly dawned on me that I hadn’t even planned on what to say to him when I do find him. Maybe I should go home and rethink this, I thought. It was then I spotted him sitting with a couple of his football buddies up the back. I tried establishing eye contact with him, and when I realised it wasn’t going to happen, I walked over to him. If Riley had noticed me approaching, he did not show it.
“Nice to see the quarterback’s supporting the local athletes today,” I said in an attempt to get his attention.
But Riley didn’t respond to it — in fact, he didn’t even acknowledge my presence. This is gonna be harder than I thought.
“Can we talk?”
Without looking at me, the quarterback stood up and excused himself from his football buddies. He walked past me without saying a word and waited by the aisle, which I took as a hint, so I quickly followed him as he continued down the steps and out of the field into an empty hallway, where he finally stopped. He turned around and gave me a hard stare, but did not say anything. It became clear to me he was expecting me to do all the talking. The bastard wasn’t even gonna try.
“You did the right thing to ask me about the shooting range last night,” I started carefully. “It got me thinking.”
No response from him.
“When you confronted me, I didn’t even know why I was at the range,” I continued. “I couldn’t sleep because I couldn’t stop thinking about what you said. I asked myself if I really was going to kill Benjamin Connor. Was that why I took the shooting lessons? Was that why I wanted to know where he lives?” I stopped for a moment to gather my thoughts. “In a way, it was the first time I really thought about what I had been doing the past few days, and it was the first time I forced myself to think about what I was trying to achieve. I won’t lie and say that the idea of putting a bullet between the bastard’s eyes wasn’t tempting.”
Still nothing from Riley. But I could tell he was listening intently to what I was saying. I took a deep breath slowly before I continued.
“But that wasn’t why I took the shooting lessons. I mean, I won’t stop myself from using it on the bastards if it ever comes to that. But I was at the range because—” I hesitated. “—it was because I can’t feel safe anymore, not since we were taken.” I swallowed and felt my voice tremble. “Every time I close my eyes I see them looking at me. Every sound I hear reminds me of something from that night. I can’t sleep in my own house because I know what my dreams will be about. I can’t do anything without thinkin—”
Riley suddenly took me into his arms. “I know,” I heard him say.
It was then I noticed my face was wet with tears. Dammit. I was practically bawling in front of the quarterback.
“Every night I hear screaming, only to wake up sweating,” the quarterback told me. “At first I’ll think I’m in the cage all over again, but then I’ll realise it was only a fucking nightmare. I can’t go back to sleep because it’s gonna happen again, so I keep myself awake until morning. But no matter what I do I can’t forget it. I can’t forget the screams.”
I returned his tight embrace and buried my face in his shoulder. It felt weird to learn that the quarterback was also having nightmares. I should have been more aware of it...after all we did go through the same thing. Standing here with him was kinda comforting. It made me feel a little safer. Just a little bit.
When we finally let each other go, the quarterback stepped back and smiled sheepishly. “My mother makes me see a shrink for this.”
“So does mine,” I laughed a little. “Well, brother, though he may as well be mom.”
He chuckled in agreement. “Sam’s cool.”
“I know.”
“I’m sorry I ever thought you were gonna kill Benjamin Connor.”
“Don’t feel too bad about it. Mistaking a friend for a murderer is a common mistake — everyone does it, one can never be too sure—”
“Oh, shut up,” he laughed as he punched my shoulder. “It’s just that...”
“You felt betrayed?”
“Well, that too. It’s just that...” the quarterback paused. He had become serious again. “It’s just that you’re in this downward spiral, and I’m afraid you’re gonna go somewhere you can’t come back from.”
“Downward spiral?”
“I mean, I’ve changed too since that day. Everyday I feel like I just wanna quit football, school, everything. But I knew if I did that, there’ll be nothing to stop me from losing it.”
“Riley, I’m not losing it.”
“I’m not saying that. I just think that’s where you might be headed.”
I looked at him incredulously. “Why would you say that?”
He hesitated. “Because you quit running.”
“Wha—it’s not that big a deal!”
“It is if it hurts your chances for a scholarship.”
I felt the colour draining from my face. I had completely forgotten about it. I couldn’t respond to that because Riley was right. I had been placing everything else above my scholarship — I had even planned to quit the cycling team as I no longer had a bike.
After a moment of silence, he turned to leave. “We should go back — they’re about to start.”
“Yeah.”
“Gary.”
“Yeah?”
“You should run,” said Riley before leaving me alone in the hallway.
I knew what he meant. But why should I? I no longer enjoyed running. It had become one of the many things in my life which reminded me of what happened that night. So what if Riley was right about me going in a downward spiral? How was running around the tracks going to stop it? Won’t it make it worse instead, considering every time I sprint my thoughts are overrun with images from that night?
Riley was wrong. I didn’t have to run. What if I lost it while I was on the tracks with the entire school watching? Even if I did want to run, I no longer have the money to buy my very much needed pair of new running shoes. If that wasn’t enough, I needed all the time I can spare to find the bastards involved in Pat’s murder. And when I find them, I’m gonna... gonna...
“Fuck!” I cursed aloud and took off into the direction of the track team stand. I hoped it wasn’t too late to run.
* * *
The running had already started by the time I got to the stand. Feeling relieved and disappointed at the same time, I quickly walked away from the stand before any of my track mates on the benches saw me. I wasn’t even sure why I was there. I had already dropped out of the race; it was too late to get back in now.
But when I glanced towards the tracks, I realised the men hasn’t started running yet. My legs froze just before I could walk out of sight of my track mates. Julie had only just started her 400 metres sprint.
Coach suddenly yelled my name behind me.
Fuck. My heart nearly leaped out of my chest. What the hell was I doing? I felt myself perspiring and shaking as I turned around and met my coach in the eye. “Coach.”
He didn’t look as pissed as I thought he would be. “What are you doing here, kid?”
“I was—I am—” I stammered a little. “I’m sorry about yesterday.”
Coach looked me over hard and raised his eyebrow. When he does it, it looked like a threat. “Is that all you came here for?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know,” I uttered all three answers so quickly I practically spat them out in the same syllable.
“I don’t have all day, kid.”
“I want to run.”
He was silent for a moment, then he looked down at my feet. Shit. I knew what he was going to ask. “Did you bring your running gear?”
I cursed silently. How could I be so stupid.
Coach sighed in annoyance. “Even if I let you run in those shoes, you can’t seriously expect me to let you compete in casual wear!”
“He can have mine,” spoke a voice suddenly on my left.
It was Bass, in his full sprinting gear.
“I think we’re about the same size—even our feet,” my friend continued as he pointed at his fancy sprinting shoes. “And we have the same shoulder and leg length.”
I was dazed. It could work out. Julie hadn’t finished her 400 metres, so I still had some time left. I looked hopefully at coach, who looked like he still hasn’t made up his mind.
“I’m not fast enough to compete anyway, and I think Gary can really use some new equipment,” Bass insisted desperately. “And—”
“Tommy!” coach suddenly yelled, causing both of us to jump.
One of the guys who was stretching a couple of feet away looked up at us. He seemed apprehensive. “Yes coach?”
“You can relax. Gary’s taking his spot back.”
At that moment I suddenly felt an urge to run up to coach and hug him. “Thank you, thank you!” I told him instead. “I won’t let you down, I’ll—”
“Save the speech for later. You need to get changed now,” he barked instead. “I want you back here in 3 minutes tops. Go!”
I thanked him again as Bass and I hurriedly made our way to the locker room. We barely stepped into the empty locker room and Bass was already shirtless and pulling off his running shorts. I was a little slower than him because of my damn belt buckle. By the time I loosened it my friend was standing in front of me completely nude, with a pile of sprinting gear on his side. It suddenly occurred to me that Bass didn’t have a change of clothes.