Part 7

Justin pulled up in to the drive, parking just in front of the oak door. He vaulted out of his convertible BMW whistling happily. Everything was beginning to fall into place. Now there was only one more job left to do and then he could go home and coax his scrumptious boyfriend out of his monkey suit so he could ravish him once more before they became married men. He went up to the house door and rang the bell, shoving his hands deep in his pockets while he waited for a reply.

After what seemed an eternity the door swung open and Justin grinned. “Did you get them?” he asked excitedly.

Trace grunted and motioned his best friend into the house, closing the door behind him. “Have you really thought this through Jay?” he asked. “You know JC is really pretty needy, he can be a real queen at times. Are you sure that this kind of commitment is wise?”

Justin frowned at his friend. “Are you serious? You know how much Jace means to me. I really can’t believe you could ask me something like that! Justin carried on walking into the kitchen and pulled a cold beer from the fridge. “You want one?” he asked.

Trace shook his head.

“So did you get the rings for me?” Justin asked again.

“I said I would didn’t I?” Trace all but snapped. He shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out the two ring boxes tossing them onto the kitchen counter. Justin snatched up the one nearest to him and opened the box. He sighed slowly and took out the ring.

“It’s perfect.” He looked at the inscription a soft smile gracing his lips as he read the words over and over. “I can’t wait to put it on JC’s finger.”

Trace grunted and slunk over to the fridge. “I will have that fucking beer,” he snorted distastefully. He glared at his ecstatic friend. Was he fucking stupid? JC was a great fuck he was sure but in his opinion he didn’t have two brain cells to rub together. He couldn’t have or he would have worked out what the fuck was going on around him.

“You want another one?” he asked holding out a bottle to Justin. The blond took it, twisted off the cap and took a long swig.

“What do you have against JC?”

Trace’s head snapped up as he was caught off guard by the question. “Apart that he’s been sponging off you for the past two years and makes your life hell, nothing.”

“JC does not sponge off me. He works from home he’s a bloody good architect. And he does not make my life hell. Hell is what my life would be without him. What the fuck is wrong with you dude. You know JC doesn’t have a bad bone in his entire body.”

The shorter man gave a half laugh. “Oh that’s right Mr ‘I’m so sweet sugar couldn’t melt in my mouth’ Chasez is perfect. Well not for you he’s not. You could do so much better.”

“Really!” Justin replied his voice raising an octave. “Like you maybe?”

Trace advanced on him. “Maybe,” he shouted back.

Justin gasped. “That’s it! You’re fucking jealous and of JC?” Justin slammed his beer down onto the kitchen counter. “Well you know what, I’ll save you the pain of watching me commit to him. I don’t need a best man, I’m marrying him.” Justin strode off towards the door his temper boiling.

Behind him Trace lost control and cleared the space between them in two long steps and smashed his bottle over the back of Justin's knocking him unconscious to the floor. He stood over his fallen friend, ranting uncontrollably in his anger. He kicked Justin hard in the ribs twice then sunk down to a crouch his hand’s on his head, muttering over and over “what have I done, what the fuck have I done.”

Madness and fear took hold. Justin meant the world to him; but he wasn’t going to lose him to that pretty boy sponger. Making up his mind Trace dragged Justin down into his basement and threw him in the corner. He then rummaged around, sorting through the junk till he found some rope then preceded to tie Justin's hands behind his back. Another bout of shifting around produced another length of rope which he used to tie Justin's ankles together. He ripped a sheet into strips, balling one and thrusting it into Justin's mouth before securing it with another strip of cloth. With the initial rush of adrenaline over Trace dashed back up stairs to the kitchen and poured himself a large brandy downing it in one gulp. There was no going back. Justin would have to stay in the basement. He took himself through to the living room and dropped down onto the couch raking his fingers through his hair and sunk back in the soft cushions with his eyes closed.

Suddenly he sat bolt upright and his eyes snapped open. His head swung towards the front door. Justin's car, it had to be in the drive. He leaped to his feet and ran outside. Sure enough there was Justin's BMW. Trace wrenched the driver’s door open and climbed behind the wheel. He screamed with frustration slamming his hands on the steering wheel as he realised that Justin must have the key card in his pocket still. He scrambled back out panicking and hurriedly made his way back to the basement. Justin groaned as Trace rolled him from side to side searching his pockets. As he reached into his jacket pocket his hand closed around the ring boxes. He withdrew them, opening the boxes and looking at the rings inside. On the spur of the moment he took the ring Justin had bought for himself and slipped it onto his finger, tossing the empty box and JC’s ring onto a nearby table. He stood admiring the platinum band for a few minutes before shaking himself out of his stupor and remembering what he had come back down for in the first place. He started to rifle Justin's pockets once more, this time coming up with the car key.

He stashed the BMW in his garage and padlocked the door as he re-entered the hallway his phone started ringing. Calming himself he lifted the receiver.

“Trace?” JC’s voice had a frantic edge to it.

Trace glared at the phone before replying. “Oh it’s you. What do you want?”

“Have you seen Justin at all today? He’s not answering his phone and I’m worried about him.”

Trace took the receiver away from his face and held his hand over the speaker so that JC couldn’t hear the ironic laugh that he couldn’t keep inside him. “No I haven’t seen him. Just fucking get ready for your party JC. Justin will turn up when he’s good and ready. Now if that’s it I got things to do.” He hung up satisfied that JC believed him and then went down to the basement to see if Justin had woken up yet.

Justin moaned softly and tried to open his eyes, lights exploded in his head and pain seeped into his senses he whimpered into his gag as understanding of his situation hit home. He struggled, pulling against the bonds that were holding him stopping when he heard the door to the basement opening. He closed his eyes hoping that who ever it was would think he was still unconscious. It was all he could do not to recoil and scream obscenities as a rough hand caressed his face and a familiar voice whispered to him.

“It didn’t have to be this way Justin. We could have been happy together. We were happy before he came along. I thought you’d soon get fed up with his whiney skinny ass and come back to me.” Trace played with Justin's hair as he continued. “You’re not marrying him Justin. I won’t let you. And if I can’t have you no one will.”

Justin opened his eyes shocked at the sentiments that had just flowed from the mouth of the man he trusted most in the world, other than JC. Trace smiled down at him evilly.

“Hey there sleepy head are you ready to play?”

The bound man shook his head in fear causing pain to roll through him once more.

“Too bad,” Trace breathed. “Because I am.” This time Justin did recoil.