Chapter 7. A Toy That You Could Take Up When You Felt The Urge
"What do you mean we can't have it?" the newswoman barked into the radio. "Didn't you hear me? We do this we get the exclusive." She frowned at her boss's response, then argued, "He's not just another long-haired weirdo, he's a veteran of the Air Force, a well known and loved member of the community, and this young lady's twin brother. He's the victim of vehicular assault, run down in the middle of the night and then kidnapped. Don't you see all the potential here? This is human interest at its best. Mystery. Drama. Our ratings will go through the roof." She said then, mouthed, "sorry. Have to sell it or he'll keep saying no," to a horrified and furious looking Shug. In the end, he kept saying no anyway. Undaunted, the newswoman waved them all into the van and turned on the police scanner, locating the chase and pushing her driver to get them there. "I'm sorry it's not as good as a helicopter, but we'll get you there either way," she apologized to Shug sincerely. The driver floored it, getting them to the chase and staying with it.
Davy cringed as the driver of the pick-up truck took a section of the winding road particularly fast, almost losing control of it. "Pull over," he urged them as if he could, through sheer force of will, make them do it. "Won't help anyone to injure yourself in another accident on the way to your last victim." Feeling Shug flinch beside him, he took her hand and whispered, "Sorry. I'd just rather he held off killing himself until after he told us where Mike was." Shug just nodded tersely, not trusting her voice at the moment.
We're coming, Michael, She thought. Just hang on. We're coming.
Kevin swerved again, taking the curves and turns at breakneck speed, yet the bright red muscle car remained behind him. "What did you say to them, Eric?" He demanded, certain his friend was the reason they were being chased.
"I didn't say anything," Eric spat back defiantly. "I just gave them their missing friend's wallet."
"Their missing….dammit, Eric, she's going to kill us if they don't. Don't you get it?" Kevin could feel the panic rising as he he began to yell, "She's completely gone off the deep end. I don't know what she's doing to him, but I do know that she's not going to give him up without a fight. Do you really want her coming after me, or you or …or your mom? Because if she'll kill our dad right there in front of me and the dead guy…."
Eric flinched. "Stop calling him that. He's not 'the dead guy'. He's not dead, Kevin. His name is Michael. He's alive and he needs help and that's our fault. We have to make this right!"
The sound of sirens reached their ears as multiple police cars joined in the chase.
"Pull over, Kevin." Eric begged. "Please, let's just do the right thing for once. Please."
Betrayed, Kevin reached across the cab of the truck and smacked Eric hard. "I made you!" he shouted. "You were nobody before I hung out with you. Just another worthless geek. I brought you into my circle and I made people see you, and this is how you pay me back? You turn on me!"
"Do you even hear yourself?" Eric demanded, wiping the blood from his lip. "You sound like her!"
The words hit Kevin like a bucket of ice water. Reluctantly, he pulled the truck to the side of the road, shaken to the core by the thought that he could become as monstrous as his sister was, allowing the police and the tricked out GTO to surround them.
The inspector approached with his gun drawn, noting the medical supplies in the back of the truck, including a portable x-ray unit and a defibrillator. He waited patiently as the officers drew the boys from the vehicle, searching and cuffing them while reading them their rights, making certain they understood them. He approached the driver, nodding to the truck bed. "That's a lot of medical supplies, son. You want to tell me where you were going with them and why?"
Kevin's gaze trailed from Eric to the two long-haired guys from the GTO who stared at him intently as if trying to make him disclose where their friend was by sheer force of will. A news van pulled up behind them and the other guy from the grocery store exited along with a tall, thin woman with similar features to the guy he'd run down and the woman from channel 8 news, along with her cameraman.
The newswoman and her cameraman meant, he realized, that it would be on television. Kaitlyn watched channel 8 news. She'd know he betrayed her.
"Where is he?" the tall woman yelled, struggling against the officers who'd caught her as she rushed at the boy, "Where's my brother? Where's Michael?"
Suddenly Kevin couldn't breathe. "I can't tell you." He answered shrinking back and shaking his head. "She'll kill us."
"If you don't tell us where my brother is, I will," the woman replied, struggling harder against the officers.
"He's at his sister's place, and he's hurt really badly," the younger boy with a split lip answered, his head hung in shame. "That's what the supplies in the truck are for. She gave Kevin a list of things she needed for him. She's a nurse. But she's nuts."
"Shut up, Eric," Kevin pushed, paling with fear. "Do you want her to…"
"YOU SHUT UP, KEVIN!" Eric yelled back, causing the bigger boy to blanch. "We were drinking and acting stupid. It was dark and pouring down rain and we were being stupid and careless. We took the curve too fast and the car started to hydroplane. We barely saw him and tried to get it back under control and to avoid hitting him, but we couldn't." The boy began to sob, but went on almost desperately. "We slammed into him… and dragged…dragged him… under the car… into the middle of the road." He drew a breath, trying to find some control before continuing, "By the time we got enough control to stop the car it was too late. At least, we thought it was. He was under the car and he wasn't moving and there was so much blood everywhere." He lowered his gaze, tears coursing down his cheeks, unable to say anything more.
"We thought he was dead," Kevin picked up the tale then, sounding resigned and tired as he looked at his younger friend incredulously. Eric hadn't told them which had been driving. He realized. He wasn't ratting him out. He really was just trying to do the right thing. He decided then that he owed it to Eric and the missing man to do the same. He wasn't Kaitlyn, and he didn't want to be. "I was driving, not Eric. He kept begging me to slow down and pay attention and stop goofing off. I didn't listen. I was too busy being a big shot. Then we hit him. I didn't even see him. Eric did and yelled for me to look out, but it was too late. Then, I didn't want to go to jail, so I pushed Eric to help me drag him out from under the car and stuff him into the backseat. I told him that if he didn't help he's the one who'd go to jail for it even though I was driving because my family could afford a good lawyer but his couldn't, so he'd end up blamed for it all." He closed his eyes a moment as the shame of what he'd done washed over him, then opened them and went on. "I drove up them to my sister's place up in the canyon. It's really isolated. Surrounded by forest. I thought we could just hide the body there and nobody'd ever know. People disappear up there all the time. I thought he could just be another one of them. Kaitlyn's obsessed with guys like him. Tall, pale skinned, dark haired. I thought if I gave her the body she'd dispose of it after."
"After what," Davy asked, though he was pretty sure he didn't really want the answer. Kevin just looked at him a moment, and Eric looked as if he might be sick. "nevermind," Davy said quickly, now positive he didn't want to know.
Kaitlyn, Shug thought, a gnawing fear growing in her heart. I remember that name from somewhere. Where did we meet a Kaitlyn?
"She told us to leave the body by the woodpile, but when I went back to help Eric take it out of the car, the guy moved his hand." Kevin shook his head. "Just a twitch. A couple of fingers, really, but that was enough. Eric started hounding me to take him to a hospital but before we could do anything either way Kaitlyn came out and saw him. She pushed me, screaming that I'd hit 'her Michael' and started barking orders. We got him inside and she started looking at his injuries. She cut away what was left of his clothes and had Eric take them out to the garbage."
Her Michael, Shug's eyes went wide, remembering the altercations first at the Van Go Go then again at the Club Cassandra with an obsessed seeming woman demanding they bring back 'her Michael'. She exchanged looks with Davy and Micky, both of whom nodded. They remembered, too. The woman had been crazy, trying to attack Shug for stealing Michael's place. She'd even sent them threatening letters until they'd gone to the police. They'd assumed the police had handled the situation when they stopped seeing her everywhere and the threats had stopped.
"That's how you ended up with his wallet?" Peter asked Eric. The boy just nodded in response.
"You're the one who tried to call us, I take it?" the inspector asked. Again, Eric nodded.
"I kept trying to call someone to try to get help to him, but I kept getting caught and hung up. Then I saw you guys outside the store. " Tears streaked the boy's face. "I wanted to tell you but…"
"But I wouldn't let him," Kevin finished the sentence for him. "Kaitlyn said she'd kill us both if we told anyone and I wasn't willing to take the chance after what I'd just seen, so I wouldn't let him tell you anything back there. He tripped in front of you on purpose so he could pass you the wallet because I wouldn't let him tell you anything."
"She cleaned him up and started patching him up while we were there, but there was something about the way she looked at him. The way her hands and her gaze lingered in places," Eric said softly, getting them focused back on the injured man. He raised his head slowly, looking at those assembled. "She's not going to let him go."
"He's right. She's crazy," Kevin told them. "I didn't know how crazy, though. I realized Eric was right and we needed to get him to a hospital, but I knew she'd never just let me take him and I thought she might even fight EMTs if they came up there, so I went back with my dad. He's a doctor. Was..he was a doctor. I thought he could convince her to let him take Michael to the hospital." He started to cry then. "She killed him. Bashed his head in with a fireplace poker right there in front of me. Michael was awake then, so he probably saw it, too. My dad had just examined him and he was telling her that Michael needed to go to a hospital. His condition was serious and he needed…" he sobbed helplessly. "She killed him…she killed him and made me…she made me throw him and the poker in the old well." He shook his head. "There are others…other bodies… down there, too. She said so. And if she knows you're coming," he added, nodding toward those Shug and Davy arrived with, "she might decide to throw Michael down there too."
The newswoman's eyes went wide and she lowered her microphone as she and her cameraman exchanged a guilty look.
"No, no no!" Shug screamed, realizing what they'd just done. "Where? Right now! You have to tell us where?"
Eric just reached in and pulled the vehicle registration from the glove box, handing it to the inspector.
"Alright, you two go ahead and take these boys back to the station," the inspector directed the policemen standing just behind each boy, then, pointing at the newswoman, "You get on your radio and have an ambulance meet us up there." he quickly gave her the address, "I don't want it on the scanner. Everyone stay off the radios. If she's got a scanner, I don't want her hearing anything more. The rest of you are with me. Let's go find our missing man."
Mike awoke in a dimly lit room with no windows. Turning his head slowly, trying hard to ward off the pain that accompanied every movement, he took in his surroundings and frowned. Its decor resembled a hospital room, and yet it didn't have the antiseptic smell you'd expect in one. Instead, it smelled of damp earth and old wood and must. Attempting to shift his left elbow underneath him to push up slightly, he discovered his hands were cuffed to either side of the bed. He couldn't move his arms. His legs refused to move either, but he couldn't feel if they were cuffed or not. He couldn't feel them at all.
Why couldn't he feel them?
He attempted to call out, but his throat was still raw and painful from screaming the last time the crazy woman decided to make an appearance, and his voice was nearly gone. He closed his eyes against the panic that began to rise within him.
Just think, he ordered himself. How did you come to be in this position? Has it always been this way?
Something inside him answered with a loud and resounding NO. This wasn't where he was meant to be. His mind went back to the voice he'd heard coming from the television. The sad sounding woman with the soft southern drawl. The image of a dark haired woman with coffee colored eyes sprang to mind.
Who was she?
He wasn't sure, but he knew that somehow they were connected. She'd know more than anyone who he was and where he was meant to be. She's the one who would help him find himself again.
Michael, he reminded himself, closing his eyes tightly against the intense pain in his head and struggling for some sort of identity, something that would unlock the rest of his memories in spite of it. My name is Michael.
Michael what? His mind challenged back. Who are you? Where are you from? Why are you here?
All of those thoughts were abruptly preempted with a single question: dear God why does it hurt so much?
The pain seemed to radiate from everywhere. Even the tiniest movement caused it to increase exponentially. He could hardly breathe. He could feel himself shaking as if he were terribly cold, and yet his entire body was coated with a thin sheen of sweat.
And then she was there, touching him everywhere and he wanted her to stop. She was grasping him tightly, letting her thumb tracing the veins before flicking her tongue across the head, taking him into her warm wet mouth as far as she could, her hand pumping and stroking the rest it's length. Her other hand darted between his legs caressing and squeezing is balls before moving lower still to tease at the pucker there, invading him with well-slicked fingers. He could feel his traitorous body responding in spite of his revulsion, lengthening and thickening, the head becoming fully engorged, but he needed her to stop.
"Please," he gasped, trying unsuccessfully to shift himself further from her. Stars shot into his field of view as darkness threatened, the pain completely overwhelming him. Still, he pled weakly, "Stop…"
Her grasp tightened with one hand as she raised her head. The other hand trailed up slowly to stroke his thigh. His abdomen. His chest. His cheek. "Oh, Michael. You don't understand, do you? I really am going to have to teach you this." She cooed. As one hand began to stroke his thick, firm length more insistently, the other continued to trail across the rest of his body. "You belong to me. That's what you wanted. You sang it to me. Every time you played and I was there you sang it to me. At the Vincent Van Go-Go. At the Club Cassandra. I followed you everywhere for months until that Amazon bitch took your place, and you sang it to me every time. You made sure I knew. Even looking everywhere but directly at me, you were always too shy to look at me, you still made sure I knew. 'Sweet young thing', 'The kind of girl I could love', 'You just may be the one'. You made sure I knew how you felt. How badly you wanted to be mine. To belong to me. And now you do. But you've forgotten. It's alright. I understand. You're injured. And so I'll explain." The hand that had been trailing across his body suddenly gripped his throat tightly as the other began to work him even more urgently. "I decide when to stop. I decide, not you. You just lay here like a good boy and don't argue. I am going to take care of you. I'll nurse you back to health and I'll see to all of your needs and in return, you will surrender completely to me. Whenever I want you. However I want you. You will be mine." She climbed onto the bed, straddling him, lowering herself slowly upon his enormous rod and savoring the feeling of being filled and stretched almost beyond endurance, and then suddenly both hands were at his throat as she rode him with a vengeance, ignoring his pain and distress and desperate struggling for air, or perhaps reveling in it, her eyes shining brightly with madness. "I choose whether to numb your pain or intensify it. I choose whether to give you air or deprive you of it. I choose whether you live or die, Michael. Nobody else. Just me. You belong to me." Her words came in staccato gasps as she neared orgasm. She could feel him twitching inside her, signaling his impending release and she increased her pace, driving him to it, coming with him while screaming in ecstasy, "I OWN YOU."
Michael felt his body betray him as his world went black.
She continued to ride him until he was completely soft then slowly raised herself from him, releasing her grip on his neck then as well. Handprints, already turning a deep and angry shade of purple, stood out starkly against his alabaster skin. She watched his chest a moment, frowning as it failed to rise and fall, then slowly tilted his head back, held his nose, and gave him the air from her lungs. Once. Twice. She took his pulse, satisfied to find that it was still there, if faint, yet his chest still failed to rise. She drew another deep breath and repeated the process again. Once. Twice. She checked his pulse again. Still beating. Still not breathing.
"Breathe, Michael." She demanded. Again she tried to breathe life back into the still figure. "It's not time yet. We're not finished." Once. Twice. "I have so many things to do with you first, my love." Again she breathed for him. Once. Twice. Checking his pulse she frowned, her voice taking on a dangerous edge. "Come on Michael, don't be stubborn." And again. Once. Twice. "DAMMIT, MICHAEL! BREATHE!" Once more. At last, he finally gasped and coughed weakly.
"That's better," she whispered softly. Going to her father's medical bag, she added something quickly to the freshly hung IV and smiled, smoothing back his thick, dark hair. "I knew you'd come back to me. You just rest now. I'll be back soon with something I know you've missed. A reward of sorts for being so good." She kissed him lightly, then walked away. The sound of a heavy door opening and closing seemed impossibly distant.
Too hurt and exhausted to argue, Michael slid back into the blackness, wishing, if only for a moment, that this time he could just stay there.
( tbc)e hH
