A rainy night. Thunder crashing and lightning crackling. Innocent green eyes peering out from under a hooded jacket, standing on the street, eyeing the time. He was late for dinner. A special dinner. Cabs seemed to be scarce and the rain was pelting his body, slicking his shirt to his chest and creating an soggy mess of his jeans. He was freezing, so cold his teeth chattered. The newspaper over his head was failing and he darted through a huge puddle, sniffling as his foot sank deeper than expected, covering his sneaker and pant leg with murky rain water. It was one sneeze ... then two as he fumbled for his cell phone. To let Justin know he would be late. To keep dinner waiting because tonight was the night all the secrets were going to be unleashed. He was sure of it. And it was hard, really hard, to stay upset as his heart warmed, and his body tingled at the prospect of hearing Justin profess feelings for him. The greatest joy would be returning the words ... seeing those big blue eyes light up ... hugging that strong body to him and holding him tight. A long time coming, he supposed, but well worth every second. A slow and steady friendship that had been created -- bonding over childhood stories and coffee before starting to hang out on weekends. Catching a basketball game or baseball game depending on the season. Heading to clubs where they would dance and flirt -- mostly with each other. Moving in when Justin decided to give song writing a shot. And Lance never minded because he had Justin close -- even if they each had a room. Because the friendship was more important. Another crack of lighting and Lance flinched, his cell phone sliding out of his hand and down with a rush of water to the sewer drain. “Dammit!” he hissed, tracking after it. But it slipped down beneath the street, and he kicked into the puddle with frustration. Then his world changed. It was a vaguely familiar car -- he’d seen it around. The man behind the wheel not much older than he was. The man in the passenger side around the same age. “Need a ride?” the passenger asked, cracking the window a bit. Lance looked down at his soaked body, and his teeth clacked against each other so violently he could barely utter a word. “We’ve seen you around. Down at Casey’s pub right? You and your friend with the curls.” Lance nodded and leaned against the car. “Cabs are running light,” he managed, sizing up the situation. “And I’m supposed to be somewhere.” His conscience played with him as he eyed the men carefully. Time. The dashboard clock glared at him. Almost seven, he was already late. “Come on, man. We don’t bite for fuck’s sake. We’re just offering you a ride!” The driver smiled, and Lance looked around. Not a cab anywhere, and it *was* only a few blocks. “You sure you don’t mind?” he asked, his forehead creased with concern for putting anyone out. Inside his body was hot, on fire with debate. He’d always been a worrier, though, and pushed it away. Because Justin was far more important. Huge raindrops plopped down on his head, plastering his blonde hair to his head, and he blinked the water from his eyes as more sheets fell from the sky. “Not at all,” the driver grinned, using the automatic locks to let Lance in. “Hop in, we’ll have you home in a sec.” Lance smiled and yanked the door open, happy to be out of the torrential downpour and on his way back to Justin. There was a smell, and he scrunched his nose up, trying not to be impolite. And when the passenger turned around and smiled, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. It was an erratic heartbeat that seemed to warn him first. Then the empty bottles of beer that curled around his feet. The scent he still couldn’t place, but fear suddenly oozed. His hand reached up to loop around his cross and he swallowed thickly. “So,” he choked out, trying to stay even, “I’m just over here.” He pointed, extending his finger to a condo building that wasn’t his, but the car kept going. Fear flooded him and suddenly the passenger grabbed his finger, bending it back to a near snap. “You ain’t going home pretty boy,” he grinned. Lance jerked his finger away and reached for the door, his green eyes wide with dread, bile coating the back of his throat. His entire body thudded with despair as he tugged at the handle with no response. The clothing he wore clung to him pathetically, and he was so icy cold -- he wanted to cry. “I ... I don’t understand,” he stammered, leaning back to kick out with his feet at the door. “Please. I just live right here. Just let me out and ...” “Shut the fuck up!” the driver snarled, jerking the car hard to the left. Lance’s back slid along the backseat, and his head cracked against the door. “We’ve seen you around. And now we want to taste you a little.” It was a fear the likes he’d never experienced, alarms that sounded shrilly in his head. Nothing made sense as fog misted over the windows above him. He reached around and rubbed his head, scrambling to sit up. “Just lemme go,” he mumbled as his blood curdled and his world tilted sickeningly. “Someone’s waiting. He’ll call the cops. He’ll ..” The gun was facing Lance instantly, pressed into his chest by the passenger who leaned over the seat to reach him. “You’ll only be gone minutes,” he said calmly. “A quick fuck and you’ll be on your merry way.” Bits and pieces he retained in his mind. The dark, abandoned alley. Being dragged from the car by his hair. Having his skin rub along the grungy gravel road as pebbled embedded into his skin. The heat from the car engine against his belly and penis as his arms were roped and weighted over his head. The rip of soggy clothing. His pulse beating violently inside his ears as he tried to disintegrate into the steel of the car. Or melt with the raindrops that slammed into his naked body. Salty tears that fell into his mouth as he was violated. As his innocence was removed. He remembered wanting Justin to save him. He recalled feeling so alone and tiny. And destroyed. There was blood but the pain had been blocked out. There was icy flesh on his body but he didn’t shiver. There was brilliant shards of light etching along the darkened sky but his eyes didn’t blink. He was dropped to the ground as the car sped away, spewing stones and dirt over his drenched flesh. Then flashing blue lights came for him and birds chirped in some chant overhead. Dawn was cracking and people were talking. And Lance didn’t remember all that much more. He’d been filled in graphically, however, on how his body was curled to in a fetal position, his eyes fixed, his body bruised and bloody. He’d seen the Polaroid's and had mental visions that flashed back at peculiar times of white hospital and a skinny nurse with cold hands. And of course the watery blue eyes of Justin who stood over him like some hazy apparition -- with his nose runny and his face a splotchy mass of red -- and his curls mussed like he’d been sleeping. But one thing Lance could never forget were the words Justin had whispered as he leaned down to embrace him gently. “I’m sorry I was mad that you didn’t come home, baby. I’m so sorry.” [ continue ] [ menu ]