My thanks to Sylvain for the beta work.
Spectre
Part 13
Aaron's phone call had left him uneasy, more than uneasy. It had left him with a really bad feeling about it all. But, was that just him worrying about Aaron because he cared so much about him or was this something more, some second sense telling him to get the hell home?
The thing was, Aaron had a habit of getting into scrapes, or did have, he'd matured, calmed down, wised up over the last few years. Still, he sometimes got things wrong, like not telling him about the recent confrontation he'd had with Chris Davies in Bar West. Something told him he was also keeping something back from him tonight.
Granted, any mention of Davies put him on edge, and Aaron knew that, would want to protect him, save him some worry. But, Davies was trouble, trouble of the worst kind. If you were in any way involved with him, no matter how remotely, then you were in danger of having your head kicked in. Despite everything he'd gone through with Davies, Aaron just didn't seem to realise that.
He could understand him wanting to help this Joel lad, but at what cost to himself? If Davies got wind that his boyfriend was at Aaron's, that he was spending the night there... BOOM! And Aaron was all alone, and as hard as he'd like to think he was, he was defenceless against the powerhouse that was Davies. History had proved that.
After anxiously pacing the floor of his B&B room, he'd gone to bed, but once there, he'd only tossed and turned, he just couldn't get Aaron out of his mind. Old, unpleasant memories tormented him, memories that more than four years later were still vivid, his mind's eye replaying them in unsettling clarity... the fear in Aaron's voice the night Davies had tried to rape him, the bruised, damaged flesh, the emotional withdrawal. He'd known even then that his feelings for him ran deep, that he was falling in love, the overwhelming need to hold him, keep him safe, telling him that much.
By one o'clock, he'd given up on sleep and had got dressed, the call home proving impossible to ignore any longer. He hurriedly scribbled a note for Dave, his workmate, and had then pushed it under his door. He told him there was a problem at home and that he would be back just as soon as he could.
Alright, so Aaron had promised to phone him if there was a problem but, somehow, that just wasn't good enough. It wasn't like he was five minutes up the road, he was three hours away! What use was that if there was a problem? In any case, he wanted to see for himself what was going on, assess the situation, see if he was needed, if there was anything he could do. It wasn't that he didn't trust Aaron to handle it; he just didn't think he should be doing it alone.
The drive home had given him a good few hours to think about his decision. He knew Aaron wouldn't be best pleased, that he would accuse him of overreacting, and maybe he was, but so what, he could live with that. What did worry him was that he and Aaron would probably have words over it, and he really didn't want that. He was just going to have to take any flack coming his way, take it on the chin.
He'd made good time, the motorway so much quieter at night, the minor roads even more so. He'd driven up through Emmerdale, dawn not far behind him, about to break over the distant hills. Except for some cat parading around like he owned the place, the village was deserted, its residents still in the land of nod.
As the van swept past Paddy's, he let his gaze stray from the road, up to the window of the bedroom he and Aaron had shared when they'd lived there. That room held some great memories, wonderful memories. If only he could lose himself in them instead of the ones evoked by thoughts of Davies. The Smithy was all in darkness, Paddy's car in the drive, he found that reassuring,
As he rounded the corner, he told himself he could relax now, that in another few minutes he'd be home, and he'd be able to tell himself he'd been worrying over nothing.
He'd just hit the home stretch, Oak Cottage was just a little further up the road... only there was to be no warm glow on seeing it, no sense of relief.
The headlights of his van illuminated the road ahead, the intense beam shining directly on the vehicle that was parked outside his front gate. His blood ran cold on recognising it as Chris Davies' car. His attention turned to the stone-built cottage, he could see that his and Aaron's bedroom light was on, so too the living room and the hallway!
As his van jerked to a halt behind the black Boxster, he noticed the front door was ajar. From the pit of his stomach rose an overwhelming sense of dread, of near panic... he knew now that he was too late, that something terrible had happened!
Throwing open his van door, he ran up the path, his heart thundering up into his throat, his urgent footsteps echoing around him in the stillness of the early hour.
"Aaron! Aaron!" His desperate demands for a response were met by silence as he careered through the front door. As he entered into the living room, he knew why.
His gaze was instantly drawn to the figure lying in a pool of blood, it was Chris Davies. He knew instantly that the giant of a man was dead. For a moment, he could only stare in stunned fascination at the lifeless form. The shock of seeing someone in death quickly turned to horror on realising Aaron was lying nearby, just as still...
TBC