Stockroom Secrets Chapter 13 by Mark Peters

Stockroom Secrets

by

Mark 'Ponyboy' Peters

Chapter Thirteen

After Bryan had left and the rest of us were walking to our vehicles, I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. A message had come through, so I pulled it out to check.

<Who was that hot guy I saw you with just now? Details! LOL>

It was from Hoppy. I hadn't noticed him anywhere, but he obviously saw us.

<Just never you mind!> I texted back, as I chuckled to myself.

'Something funny?' my mother asked.

'Just a mate from work,' I replied.

Mum raised her eyebrows.

'He's okay. He's one of the good guys,' I told her, which brought the eyebrows back down to their usual position. 'He wanted to know who the hot guy was I was talking to,' I quietly added, hoping nobody else heard that.

At least that brought a smile to her face.

'And what did you tell him?'

'To mind his own business,' I said with a grin.

Moments later my phone buzzed again. I was still holding it in my hand and glanced at the screen expecting it to be some reply from Hoppy, but this message wasn't from him.

<Fancy a fuck?>

This one was from a number I didn't know. I froze in my tracks, as the others walked on for a few steps, before stopping and turning around to see what had happened to me.

'Everything okay?' my mother asked.

Jesus! Just when I thought things were settling down!

I was holding the phone out in front of me and it was Robbie who was first to reach me. He took the phone from me and looked at the screen, his eyes growing wide when he did so, before handing the phone back to me.

'Anyone you know?' he asked.

I simply shook my head.

'What is it?' I heard my mother ask.

'Just some troll having some fun at Gray's expense,' Robbie replied. 'It's nothing really.'

'It doesn't look like nothing, judging by how Gray is looking right at this moment. I thought you said it was from one of the good guys?'

'No, this was someone different, but I'm fine, mum. Robbie's right. The world is full of dickheads. Just came as a bit of a shock, that's all.'

'Let me see it,' she demanded, while holding out her hand.

'No, I'm fine. Really,' I replied, then shoved the phone into my pocket and started walking towards where our cars were parked.

Just the thought of my mother reading a message like that simply horrified me. I knew that she was more open minded than most women, especially having a gay brother herself, but having my mother knowing all the ins and outs of my life like that was a bit too much for me to get my head around just yet.

We had all brought our own cars downtown this morning, with Olly travelling with me initially, but as I wasn't sure what I was going to be doing after we had finished our brunch he was to go home with mum. I had hoped I would be able to catch up with Raffa or Hoppy for a bit, to mull over what has been going on recently, and after seeing the message I had just received I felt that I really needed to talk to someone now.

After saying goodbye to everyone and being told 'You'll be fine' or 'Just be careful', then watching them drive away, I climbed into my Nissan and sat there for a few moments just watching a few people pass by on the street, not really knowing what I needed to do or where I should go.

The words of that text message kept ringing in my head. Fancy a fuck . . . Fancy a fuck . . . Fancy a fuck . . .

What the fuck?

I had no idea who the message was from, and I sure as hell wasn't going to message them back. But a part of me still wanted to know. Was it someone I knew or just some random who had heard about what happened and somehow found my number? Was it someone I worked with, who had heard the whispers in our store?

I decided to try and call Hoppy and pressed the icon for his number on my contacts list. His phone rang but it went unanswered, so I disconnected and then tried Raffa. I did say to him the other day that I wanted to talk at some point over the weekend, so hopefully he wouldn't be too busy.

The phone rang a few times and I was just about to give up when he answered.

'Hey man. What's happening?'

'Not a lot. You doing anything much?'

'Nah.'

'I need to show you a text message I just got.'

'Who from? Some troll, I suppose?'

'Yeah, I think so. It kind of freaked me out. I'm downtown at the moment, can we meet some place where we can talk? Is that okay?'

'Absolutely. How about the top carpark at work? Give me ten minutes?'

'Sure. Thank you. I'll see you there.'

When I disconnected, I have to admit that I felt as if a weight had been lifted. Having someone to talk to, especially someone who had experienced similar, was going to be a massive relief. I could only hope that things would get better.

Where we worked was only a few blocks away, so I started my car and pulled out onto the street and before long I was driving up the ramp that led to the rooftop carpark. Being a Sunday the store was open and there were a few cars around, but not too many. I found a parking space in the shadow cast by the office block next door to the car park and sat and waited, and it wasn't long before I heard the sound of a motor bike coming fast.

Just like the last time I had seen Raffa arrive he pulled the bike up onto the back wheel as he sped up the ramp, becoming airborne momentarily when he reached the top, before landing safely. I got out of my car and stood beside it so that he could see me, and he sped my way, wheeling into a parking space that was close by, quickly kicking down the stand and switching the machine off.

Today he was wearing faded blue jeans with several rips in them and an old, checkered shirt with missing sleeves. Only one button was fastened on the shirt, with the shirt tails flapping in the breeze. It seemed to me that no matter what he wore, this guy looked sexy.

After pulling the helmet from his head and running his hand back through his hair he looked at me and smiled. I'm fairly certain he had noticed me checking him out.

'You always like to make a grand entrance like that?' I asked.

'Only when I want to impress someone,' he replied teasingly, as he leaned against the mudguard of my car beside me and bumped my shoulder with his.

I grinned back at him.

'You sounded like you needed someone to talk to,' he said, suddenly sounding serious.

'Yeah, you could say that,' I replied, as I pulled my phone from my pocket.

'It doesn't take long for the trolls to come out. What happened?'

I opened the message app on the phone and quickly found the message I had received, then showed it to him.

He read it and raised his eyebrows.

'Well, that's short and to the point,' he said.

'Recognise the number?' I asked.

'Not really, but it might be the same number I received one from as well,' he replied, as he dug his phone from his pocket. He scrolled through his messages and eventually found what he was looking for, then turned the phone around to show me.

<I want your ass!> it read, then he showed me a couple more that were similar.

'What did you do?'

'Ignored them. They stopped after a while.'

'I don't mind saying that it freaked me out when I saw it.'

'What's the number your message came from?' he asked.

Checking my phone I read the number out to him.

'Yeah. That's the same.'

'And you got that after hooking up with Mike? Just like how I got mine,' I remarked.

'Seems a bit strange. Coincidence maybe?'

'Don't think so. Whoever it is knows what's happened . . . or has been told about it, I'm thinking.'

'Yeah, makes sense. Has anyone else seen that or know about it?'

'My brother-in-law, Robbie, has seen it.'

'What? How?'

'I was having brunch with my family this morning, to say goodbye to my uncle who was visiting. We were all walking along the street afterwards when the message came through and I read it. I stopped, but my family kept walking, then Robbie came back to me when he noticed I wasn't with them. He wanted to know what was wrong, then he took my phone and saw it.'

'Fuck!'

'Yeah. Mum asked what the problem was, but we didn't show it to her.'

'Are they cool with you being, you know . . .'

'Yeah. My family have got my back . . . except dad doesn't know yet, and we also haven't said anything to my kid brother.'

'That's something at least.'

'Still don't know what to do about this, though,' I said, holding the phone up briefly.

For a few minutes we stayed quiet. The shadows I had parked in had moved and we were now soaking up the autumn sun, while watching people come and go, carrying shopping bags or pushing trolleys.

'Well, the way I see it is that we can do one of two things. We can just continue to ignore it, or we can try to flush out whoever it is, because sure as hell they have done it before and will keep doing it,' Raffa eventually said.

'What do you mean by flush him out? Like, set a trap or something?'

'I dunno. Maybe. Might have to think about it some more.'

'Yeah. That might be a plan,' I replied as I looked at him. With the sun behind him, his ruffled head of hair, along with the fine blonde hairs on his arms he appeared to be back-lit, tinged with gold.

I was enthralled by his unconventional beauty. He looked like a god to me. I swallowed, as I felt something stir deep within me.

'What's wrong with you?' Raffa suddenly asked. 

'N-nothing,' I stammered, not wanting to let on how I was really feeling, at least not just yet.

He grinned at me, then bumped my shoulder with his. 'So, you seeing anyone else?' he enquired.

'What? No.'

'Me neither,' he whispered, offering a grin with it. I couldn't help but to grin back at him. Those two words held so much promise to me.

As we continued to grin at each other like a pair of smitten teenagers, which I guess may not have been too far from the truth, we heard the sound of a vehicle. It was revving loud and coming fast. Looking up we were just in time to see a maroon-coloured Holden Commodore fly up the ramp onto the car park. It sounded like a v8 engine and the noise of it bounced around, echoing off the nearby buildings.

The windows were down, and we could hear the raucous voices and laughter of the occupants as they sped around the car park, cutting through empty spaces, doing burnouts and leaving black tyre marks on the concrete.

'Fucking dickheads,' I heard Raffa curse. I could only agree.

Then moments later they were gone, speeding back down the ramp and through the car park, before peeling out onto the road.

In the silence that followed we looked at each other again. There was so much that I wanted to say to him, so much I wanted to ask him, and if the truth must be known, there was so much I wanted to do with him, but right at that moment I never got the chance to even begin, as that was the moment when my phone rang in my hand.

I looked at the screen and saw that it was my mother's number.

'I better take it,' I said to Raffa.

'All good, mate.'

I pressed the green button on the screen then put it to my ear.

'Hello.'

'Where are you?' mum asked. 'Everything okay?'

'I'm fine. Still downtown. Just talking to Raffa.'

'Raffa?'

'A friend from work,' I answered, as I glanced at him.

For a few moments there was only silence, then she said, 'One of the good guys, I hope?'

'Definitely,' I replied. 'I'll be home soon, okay.'

'Okay. Just be careful.'

'I will. Bye.'

I disconnect and then slide the phone into a pocket.

'Let me guess? Mum checking up on you?' Raffa asked.

'Yeah. Seems to be doing that a bit lately, after what happened,' I replied.

'Yeah, they can get like that.'

I know he could have put shit on me about being a mummy's boy or something like that, as that is exactly what most other guys would do, but as I was quickly finding out, Raffa wasn't like most other guys.

'I'm going to need to get going, but before I go I just want you to know that I appreciate being able to talk to you about this stuff. It's good to have someone who can relate to what happened, you know?'

'I feel the same,' he answered. 'And maybe we can, I don't know, hang out sometime, or something?'

'Yeah, I'd really like that.'

He gave me a nod, then quickly hugged me, before stepping back. I have to admit that his doing that took me by surprise, but I was so glad he did. We were growing closer, although neither of us were quite game to cross the line, the line that separated friends from something more. But I felt as if that was where we were heading.

'You working tomorrow?' he asked.

'Yeah.'

'Good. I'll see you there,' he said, then gave me a wink and turned to walk away.

As he did so an idea popped into my head. I quickly pulled out my phone and pointed it his way, then said, 'Hey, Raffa!'

He turned around and said, 'What?', then I quickly snapped a photo of him.

'You bastard!' he said with a laugh in his voice.

'I've been called worse,' I replied.

He trotted over to his bike, as I looked at the photo. He looked like a golden boy and this image would be something I felt sure I would get a lot of use out of, particularly at night.

I climbed into my car and started it, just as Raffa started his bike, then he sped past me, giving me a wave as he did so. This time it was my turn to follow him down the ramp and out onto the street, before heading toward home.

To be continued . . .

Authors Note:

Hi there. It has been a while since I have posted anything new on Nifty. I guess life gets in the way sometimes.
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