50
Sam still hadn't come back down, so Spencer went up to locate him. He was crouched on the bathroom floor shivering, his teeth chattering and goosebumps all over his skin. Spencer asked what he was doing and Sam informed him that all the towels were wet and he couldn't dry himself anyway and needed help. He told Spencer that his skin was like the delicate petals of a rare flower and needed looking after and tending. What Sam wanted was for someone to dry him and then rub creams on his skin and oil him. He wanted attention. A lot of attention.
Spencer led Sam by his reluctant hand to his bedroom and pulled a clean towel out of a cupboard. Sam stood and grinned on the inside and Spencer moved slowly around Sam, rubbing him down carefully. Sam spread his legs slightly so that Spencer could reach all the places he needed to.
'There's some stuff in my room.' Sam told Spencer. 'Maybe I should go and get what I need?' Spencer gave him a small nod and a partial smile. He was sure that this wasn't the kind of bonding that Floyd wanted, but it seemed that Sam wasn't going to be happy until this at least was done. So Sam got this scented body butter rubbed in every conceivable location and in some locations which Spencer didn't think of… then he put rose oil on his hands and made sure that everywhere the body butter had been there was now oil. He brushed Sam's hair for him. It was long, hanging down his back, so Spencer braided it for him and wrapped a red hair tie around the end. 'Go get dressed. We have to tidy this house up for Floyd.'
Sam stood unmoving. He didn't want to do housework. He wanted to have fun. He wanted to play on his playstation. He wanted to watch porn on the TV. He wanted to look at magazines, but most of all he wanted, needed to be told how great he was.
'Do I look great?' He asked Spencer.
'You'd look better if you had clothes on.' Sam was told.
Sam struck a pose for Spencer who tried not to laugh. 'There is nothing wrong with the naked body. It's how we came into the world. It's only petty laws of the country we live in that govern the reasoning behind clothing.'
Spencer did grin now. 'Not all bodies are as fine as yours.' He let Sam know. 'Some are down right repulsive. I think there is very good reason for clothing. Go put on something comfortable. We should at least tidy the bathroom and kitchen.'
Sam groaned, ran his fingers over his chest and nodded. 'You're right. I tend to think that everyone is as beautiful as me. You do think I'm beautiful don't you? I really don't know how you can stand there and not pounce on me. I'd let you. I'm all slippery and ready for you.'
'But I'm not ready for Floyd to skin me alive, so for now I will keep my hands off you. Not because I don't want to touch you, but because I want fingers for when I'm allowed to.'
This seemed to satisfy Sam for now. He smiled and stepped back from Spencer. 'I'll put on my dungarees and a Tshirt then. Thanks for sorting my hair. Do you think it would look better if I had it cut? You know? Something trendy and out there?'
Spencer shook his head at Sam. 'And look like every other kid on the street? I think your individuality is one of the things which makes you special.' Another thing which Sam seemed to like the sound of. He turned and left the room happily. The cheeks of his backside clenching as he walked through the door. Spencer would love Sam to get his hair cut. All of it… right off his vain head… but Floyd would object.
They tidied in companionable silence. Spencer picked things up off the floor, throwing out anything which was broken. Floyd had re-hung the painting in the broken frame so Spencer left it. He'd ask Floyd what he wanted doing with it later. Sam had the vacuum cleaner and seemed happy to wade through the bits of plaster and dirt on the floor. They'd cleared up most of the mess much quicker than they had thought they would, but Spencer was still keeping a close eye on the time. Not time to start to panic yet… he'd give Floyd more time to mess up before he would start to pace the room and panic.
Spencer and Sam sat at the dining table and played cards. They both cheated. They both knew the other was cheating… the game was eventually abandoned by mutual consent and with a laugh from them both. It would have been more relaxing for Spencer if he'd not been distracted by the way Sam's eyelashes swept shadows across his cheeks. It would have been easier to cheat if Sam didn't keep running his bare toes over Spencer's leg. The distraction wouldn't have been so bad had Sam not looked at Spencer the way he did… with one eye looking at his nose. It was a shame because apart from that Sam was really quite cute. A bit young…
'But…' Sam suddenly burst out and then shut up.
Spencer was putting the cards away and turned to look at Sam. There was a shifty look on his face now, almost as though he'd been caught out doing something he shouldn't have. 'But what?' Spencer asked him. 'You want to carry on playing?'
Sam shook his head, stood and stretched. 'I'm going to listen to some tunes in my room.' Sam walked slowly from the lounge. 'You can come listen to them with me if you want. I have some dip and suck dust.'
Spencer shook his head. 'Go and enjoy… just don't over do it.'
'It's just LSD stuff… nothing fancy, but let me know if you hear from Floyd.'
Apart from not being Sam's slave that instruction might have been all right. 'You will ruin your mind by poisoning it so much. Isn't there something else you'd rather do? Have you considered that advanced programme you were offered at the uni?'
Ah – Sam loved it when someone took notice of his intelligence. 'I've considered it, but Floyd wants to keep moving on and I've tried uni and the special programmes and I'm never around long enough to be able to carry them on. There's distance learning of course, but that's not the same is it? But maybe I'll look into that.'
'Floyd travels, you're right. He just can't settle in one place for long enough for him to make roots. If we could encourage that… together.'
'No.' Sam told Spencer. 'And don't even think about telling me that I should go residential. I can't. I'm legally under age and can't do that. According to the school records I'm only fourteen. You've been checking out a little school kid all day. It's amazing how what Floyd does rubs off on you.'
'You are legally sixteen.' Spencer corrected Sam. 'But that doesn't seem to stop you from prostituting and getting into bars.'
Suddenly the relaxed atmosphere began to crumble again. Spencer hadn't done this to purposefully annoy Sam but he seemed to have done anyway. 'I've been prostituting since I was legally ten! So screw you! I'm a mixed up kid who needs special handling. I've got all sorts of shit wrong with me!'
'You're not even human.' Spencer reminded Sam. 'You're a pretence.'
And there was a fight. Spencer didn't know how it started or who hit who first, but he thought that Sam slapped him and he slapped back and that turned into something a bit more spiteful. Sam was perfectly able to bite and kick and spit and pull hair. Sam could punch and scratch and deal every bit of pain that Spencer was able to. It only seemed to stop when Spencer was doing to Sam the thing which Floyd had done to Spencer so many times that he had lost count years ago. Sam's feet were off the floor and his back was against the wall… Spencer had his hands around his throat and was shouting into Sam's face. 'You're nothing! You're nothing!' Then with a shake he let go of Sam and let him crawl away. This fight Spencer had won, but it didn't make him feel good. There was no satisfaction that at all. He watched Sam crawl away from him and wanted to go over there and try to make amends.
'Sam… Sam… oh god.' Spencer went to grab the back of Sam's dungarees and pull him close and give him a hug.
'Don't you touch me! Don't you fucking dare you bastard cunt!' Sam wailed.
'Please Sam… I'll make this all right… stop flinching from me. You know I'd not hurt you.' And as soon as the words were out of Spencer's mouth he wanted to take it back again. 'Oh…' Spencer quickly backed away from Sam who was leaving a snot, piss and blood trail behind him. 'Sam…'
'Go rot in hell.' Sam snarled back at Spencer.
Sam crawled to his room being as pathetic as he could be. Spencer had hurt him, but he'd hurt him emotionally more than physically. The actual slapping and scratching shit had been just that. Holding him against the wall and shouting in his face had actually scared Sam, but the thing which upset him most of all were those last set of words… the echo of Floyd. That upset Sam most. It now felt like he had Floyd and Floyd's lesser and stinkier shadow to contend with. He'd always thought that Floyd would just click his fingers and begone with him, but Spencer too? He thought Spencer would put up with any shit and still come through.
This little circle of companionship was so broken and messed up that Sam too more than one dip of his powder and didn't care that his bed was smothered in cold puke. He even considered taking up the offer which had been made to him by a few universities and going residential. At least until he had sorted himself out. At least until he wasn't scared that his throat was going to be slit in his sleep and now he didn't know if it would be Spencer or Floyd who would do the job.
Spencer sat on the floor in the lounge and waited for Floyd to come home. At one point he used the bathroom which was small and cramped and stuck under the stairs. He didn't want to go upstairs. He didn't want to come across a dead Sam. He made coffee and a sandwich and went back and sat where he had been before and just waited.
He looked up at the clock when he heard Floyd's bike pull into the driveway. He was sitting in darkness with a cold mug of coffee and a cheese sandwich with curled up corners sitting at his side. He didn't realise that so much time had gone by. Briefly he wondered if he should go and meet Floyd, but then he changed his mind. Sam also had heard the bike return and was thumping down the stairs… maybe falling? Yes Sam was falling down stairs and Spencer secretly hoped that Sam broke his stupid neck.
Floyd stood dripping on the doormat looking at Sam who had hurled himself down the stairs so fast that he'd lost his footing and taken off. He landed with a crump and a surprised yelp and looked up at the apparition standing in front of him. Spencer arrived on the scene a minute later with a resigned look on his face. He looked and saw that Sam was wriggling and breathing and he looked and saw that Floyd seemed a bit out of it. He moved in quickly.
'Sam get up off the floor. Get some bin bags… quickly!'
Sam didn't move, but Floyd put a hand out and grabbed Spencer by the hair. 'Have you had him?'
'Don't be daft. I'm trying to help you here. Get stripped off. I'll get rid of those clothes. Did you get your things back?'
Floyd smiled, and pulled his wallet his lighter out of his pocket. 'They were somewhat resistant to my demands. No matter.' He licked his lips and pulled his belt out of the loops in his jeans. 'Don't look so worried Spence. All is good. The balance is restored. I only did to them what they did to me and left them for dead. They were a tad surprised to see me! But here we are, a happy family.' He turned to look at Sam. 'Have you been dipping down into my powders again? You look wasted.'
Spencer was picking things up off the floor and rolling them into a bundle. He could wash them. A cold wash and a hot wash with special detergent would do the trick. Yes someone could use special chemicals to find out if there was blood there, but everyone knew that Floyd got blood everywhere almost on a daily basis. They'd not be able to tell whose blood it was.
Floyd padded naked behind Spencer. He still seemed to be in a bit of a dream. It was as though his mind had slipped out of gear for a while. Maybe, Spencer thought, it was guilt. He shoved the clothes in the wash and put them on the right setting and then turned to look at Floyd. 'It's going to be fine.' Spencer reassured Floyd. 'You know I'll watch your back.'
'I know.' Floyd let out a small smile. 'You shouldn't have to, but I do know. That's about the only thing I can rely on you to do.'
Spencer leaned back onto the washing machine, enjoying the slight vibration coming from it. 'They raped you. You shouldn't feel bad that you went after your things.'
'Feel bad? I don't feel bad. It was a rush. Loved every second of it. It was like the days before I had to think about how my boys would react when I got home. It was like the days I didn't give a fuck… or at least could give the impression that I didn't give a fuck. They couldn't keep my shit. The wallet isn't made of legal leathers and the lighter is my bonding item… it gives me easier access to Them so you see they couldn't have my things even when they said they'd keep what they have and even when they said they'd finish me off properly.' He gave a small shrug. 'I'm going to get changed. Back in a few. Get something heated up to eat will you. I'm famished and I didn't eat them… or parts of them… or remove parts of them. I've left nothing to suggest it was me.'
'Yet they will still come after you. They will be here as a first port of call.'
'Let them. Let the fucks come… Have you ever thought of going to Venice?'
'No.' Spencer smiled. 'Get washed and changed.
'I've had more showers and soaks in the tub in the past month than I have in the past ten years. You know that it's bad for you don't you? It erodes your defences and makes you more inclined to catch colds and flu bugs. In the days when there were no remedies for that sort of ailment, it often went to pneumonia and terrible chest infections… and then death. Yes, bathing can kill you.' Floyd gave Spencer a peck on the lips. 'Back in a sec. Get coffee and food ready.'
They sat around the dining room table looking at the grey slightly fish tasting thing Spencer had dished up. Sam was obviously not going to eat it. He claimed that Spencer tried to kill him and if it hadn't been for his quick ninja action he would be an ex-Sam right this moment. Floyd told Sam that he should have used his quick ninja action when coming down the stairs. It would have saved him from making a fool of himself. Spencer commented that if had wanted to… 'If I had wanted to kill you, Sam, I would have done. I didn't want to.'
'Fuck you arsehole.' Sam replied. 'You had me and you were choking my life out of me.'
Floyd stood up and stabbed his fork into the table top. 'Show me.' He said. 'I want to see what Spencer was doing to you.'
Spencer didn't move, but to carefully place his fork on the table. He was looking down at his food. It seemed to be the safest place to look right now. He pretended that he didn't understand what Floyd had meant.
'You want him to half choke me to death again? Why?'
Floyd gave a slight movement to his head, maybe a small nod or a tiny shake, or maybe he just cocked his head slightly to the side. 'I missed the entertainment which must have been so fucking good if you're complaining like a fucking old woman about it! Spencer! Get on your feet, take Sam and show me what you did to him.'
'Floyd I…'
'NO! I'm tired and I'm pissed off. Don't even think of arguing with me. Show me what you did to him! I want to see!'
Spencer stood slowly. If he was quick and if he attempted to cheat then it wouldn't hurt Sam. At least he hoped it wouldn't.
'You wouldn't!' Sam howled as Spencer walked to him and took his hand. 'You wouldn't! You said!'
There was a nod from Spencer who had his free hand on Sam's shoulder. 'I know what I said.' Spencer told him. 'And I meant it.' It was a hint. A clue that Sam should have picked up on, but seemed not to. Spencer really thought that he could fake it. For a while he thought Sam understood, but Sam screamed and struggled and kicked and scratched and told Spencer that he was a dirty liar, that he was meant to be his friend. He told Spencer that he'd hate him forever and no amount of giving Sam a hard look stopped him from trying to get away.
Floyd stood back watching at first. His head cocked to one side and his hands in fists at his side. He watched the half hearted way Spencer was slapping Sam's hands off him as he backed him towards the wall. This wasn't how Floyd wanted it. He wanted Spencer to show him what it was like but it seemed that watching wasn't Floyd's favourite pass time. He wanted to be the one doing it. 'Get out of the way. I'll show you.' Floyd shoved Spencer to the side with one hand, sending him rocking back and banging into the table. His other hand was already wrapped around Sam's neck and pushing him hard against the wall. 'Was it like this?' Floyd wanted to know. 'Did Sam's eyes go all big and scared?' He asked no one in particular. Sam had stopped with the struggle and now was whimpering at Floyd not to…
'Please don't… please don't… Floyd don't!' But his feet were already leaving the ground.
Spencer rubbed at his newly bruised hip and tried to get Floyd off him. 'Stop it! This isn't necessary.' He pulled on Floyd's belt, but the sudden sharp pain in his face as Floyd's elbow met Spencer forced him to let go. 'Leave him alone!' Spencer cried out as he placed a hand over his bloody nose. 'Stop it! Haven't you done enough for one day?'
Words which shouldn't have been said, but Floyd heard them and the hand around Sam's neck was suddenly gone and Sam was crying and crawling away with curses to everyone. 'Did you say something?' Floyd snapped at Spencer. 'Did you dare try to tell me what to do? You don't like it that I was hurting Sammy-Boy? It's all right for you to slap him around but not me? Do you really think I'm going to listen to you? Do you think that your words have any effect on what I am going to do once I've made up my mind?' He walked slowly towards Spencer who was backing off and shaking his head. 'Running? Run from me now and you'll regret it. Am I going to have to nail you to the fucking wall this time? Will you never learn? Don't you fucking touch me! Don't you ever touch me if I've not given you permission. Sam stay where you are. You need to learn too. Both of you need to learn.'
Somehow Floyd had moved Spencer to the wall now. 'Floyd, you misunderstood.'
'Oh so now I'm stupid as well as wrong? Really? That's how you feel? I misunderstood what exactly? Misunderstood that you tried to tell me what to do? Misunderstood your words telling me to leave him alone? Well I've left him alone. You like the feeling of hands around your neck? I think you must do or you'd not have pissed me off like that! Sam! Sam you come here and you fucking watch! How will you ever learn if you refuse to do what you're told? See how Spencer always looks down and to his left when I'm about to beat the crap out of him? It's a submissive gesture. He doesn't even know he's doing it, but it doesn't work on me. I'll not accept submission until he's on his belly begging me. Want to be on your belly Spencer? No? Well stop acting like you do… Now Sam, see how he will keep his hands at his side. He never fights me off. This is another thing which is instinctive to Spencer. He wont fight me. He knows he can't win. He knows that I'll let him go sooner if he remains calm. In a second or two he will suddenly snap his head back. Again it's instinctive. He doesn't know he's doing it. It's at that point that I know he's about to pass out. You have to look for signs. You have to know your victim. There! Did you see it? You did… good… now I will count silently in my head to twenty and at that point I will release him. He will have no control over the muscles in his legs and he will fall forwards and slightly to his left. The left being his weaker side. I will be there to catch him… nineteen, twenty… there you go! It's like reading a book. You have to know your kill. You have to know your mark.'
Floyd grabbed Spencer as he fell to the floor. No more damage then necessary. 'OK.' Sam muttered.
'So that is why you need to stalk and you need to watch carefully. You have to know if your mark is right or left handed. You have to check the leading hand, which isn't always the same as which hand you write with. It's a science. Not one studied very much, but I've had a long time to watch and remember and make note. Get Spencer a drink of water. His throat will be sore.' Floyd knelt on the floor next to Spencer who had his eyes open in wide horror. 'It's OK. It's OK, Babes. I knew what I was doing, but don't you ever tell me what to do. Don't you fucking dare presume that you know better. Next time I tell you to beat the shit out of Sam, you'll do it. Next time I have to teach you a lesson it might be with a bit more force. Here's Sam with a drink. Take it slowly.'
