Cautiously he opened the door.
The door was kicked open and Justin went flying backwards, spiralling across the floor. Panic filled his heart as he shook the stars from his head and looked up into cold emerald green eyes.
Yelping Justin scrambled across the floor trying to escape. Richardson’s boot caught him squarely in his jaw, snapping his head back and knocking him cold.
“Check the other rooms.” The assassin’s ice-cold voice commanded the younger man that followed him into the apartment. Richardson grabbed a handful of Justin’s curls and dragged him to the couch. He bent down to pick him up then changed his mind, kicking him hard in the ribs instead.
“When you wake up precious we are going to have a little talk.”
Justin’s scream alerted JC to the danger. Terrified he tumbled out of bed and looked around wildly for a hiding place. He started to slide beneath the bed then thought better of it. He looked at the closet, his heart pounding with fear.
“Check the other rooms.”
He whimpered and ran to the closet. Changing his mind at the last minute he turned and dived head first into the large laundry hamper that was filled with dirty clothes and soiled sheets. He tunnelled his way under the linen. He held his breath as the door to the bedroom opened, his mouth moving in silent prayer.
The man walked around the room, he tipped the mattress off the big brass bed and JC pushed a fist full of dirty linen into his mouth to stop himself from crying out. From his hiding place he watched through the weave of the basket as the man opened the closet, swiping clothes off the rail.
“It’s clear Kev. The maggot is alone.”
“Good get back in here and help me tie him up.” The man took a final look around then turned off the light and left, closing the door behind him.
“Grab that chair AJ while I strip the little bastard.” Richardson took his knife out of his pocket and started to shred Justin’s pants while the shorter dark haired tattooed man dragged a heavy dining chair in front of the couch. Between them they lifted Justin up and sat him down. AJ rummaged through the backpack that he had brought with him and produced a length of rope. First they tied Justin’s wrists to the chair arms. Then the tied his ankles to the legs. His belly and neck were then tied to the chair back.
“Now what?” AJ asked, bored.
“Now we play cards and wait for the princess to wake up.” Richardson picked up a deck of cards from where Chris had left them the night before. “I’ll deal.”
JC lie shivering in the hamper not knowing what to do. Justin, his Justin was helpless but fear was holding him paralysed preventing him form helping him. In the living room he could hear the low murmur of the men’s voices and the rumble of their laughter. Drawing on all his courage JC wriggled as noiselessly as he could out of the laundry and tiptoed over to where Justin’s clothes were spilt on the carpet. He pulled a pair of pants over his legs and tugged a tee shirt over his head. He paused listening carefully for any sign that the men were coming back into the bedroom. When he heard nothing JC sat down on the edge of the bed. He caught sight of Justin’s pistol. He lifted it up, turning it over in his hands; caressing the cold steel with his fingertips. Scared to death he checked the chamber, finding it fully loaded. He laid the gun down on the bed in front of him, shaking. He had never touched a gun before, never lone-fired one. He really didn’t know if he could, could he point it at someone and pull the trigger? All he could do was wait. Wait till the two men were distracted enough to give him a sporting chance of hitting one of them and hope to god that he didn’t freeze.
Justin groaned and tried to move. “Hey Kevvy, the fag is waking up!
Richardson dragged a chair over and turned it around so he could straddle it. “Hello Justin, remember me?” The dark haired man grinned nastily and grabbed a handful of Justin’s hair pulling his head painfully backwards. “Surprise!” he yelled and punched the helpless man in the face.
Justin cried out as his nose burst open then spat blood at his attacker. “Fuck you asshole!” He was desperate to know what had happened to JC, he couldn’t see his boyfriend and lover anywhere. He prayed that the slim boy had escaped unharmed, but he knew in his heart that it was more likely that his lover was tied to the bed waiting to be raped and killed if not already dead. The thought of his baby’s lifeless body made him braver than he would normally have been. He struggled ferociously and screamed obscenities at the two rival gangsters.
Richardson laughed and nodded to AJ who in turn opened his bag again and pulled out a skinning knife. “Actually Justin I think you’ll find it’s you who’s fucked.”
AJ dragged the blade up Justin’s chest slicing him open. “Fucking bastard!” Justin screamed out in agony as the blade ripped him open. “You’re dead fucker. You’re fucking dead!”
Richardson smiled, shaking his head as he circled the man bound to the chair. He crouched down beside him and leaned his mouth next to his ear. “I’m going to hurt you Justin. I’m going to make you scream.” The assassin licked Justin’s ear. “And then I’m going to cut your fucking dick off inch by inch. See how long it takes for you to bleed to death.”
“You think I’m scared,” Justin spat. “I’m not scared of you, you fucker.” He screamed as AJ cut him again. “Son of a bitch!”
Inside the bedroom JC rocked back and forth the gun in his hands, tears running down his face. Each scream ripped through his soul.
“God help me, God help me,” he repeated over and over inside his head. Justin’s agonised screams rang out again. JC closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Silently he got off the bed and crept to the door, opening it slowly and praying that it wouldn’t squeak. The two men had their back to him, taking it in turns to cut his lover. He lifted the gun and aimed it at the tall dark haired man’s back and squeezed the trigger.
Richardson reached between Justin’s legs and grabbed his cock. “What do you think AJ, just the head to start with?”
The shorter man nodded enthusiastically handing his boss the knife. “Say goodbye to your dick fag.” The gunshot made Justin jump. Richardson fell forward knocking him backwards. The gun rang out again and again but Justin was dazed and confused, he couldn’t see what was going on. The gun rang out once more and then there was nothing as Justin slipped into the blackness.
JC pointed the gun and squeezed the trigger. The shot was deafening but despite the shaking of his arm he fired off more shots. He saw the tall man that had cut his face topple over, knocking Justin over too. He was so stupefied with watching the scene unfold that he almost forgot about the other man that was in the room as well.
AJ charged JC down the knife held above his head, ready to strike. Regaining his wits JC fired again, hitting AJ in the chest. The terrified brunette kept firing even though the gun chamber was now empty. He cried out as he was bowled over, scrambling frantically to get out from under the man that had pinned him to the carpet. JC wriggled out from under the dead man and kicked back with his heels till his back was against the wall. It was a long time before he could make his body move. He crawled timidly towards his fallen lover, frightened that when he got there the older man would be dead.
He reached out and moved a bloodstained curl from Justin’s eyes. “J . . .Justin,” he stammered. “Justin, please baby, please don’t leave me.”
Justin’s eyes flickered slightly then opened slowly. “ Hey baby.” JC burst into tears and gathered his lover into his arms rocking him back and forth as he tried to untie the bonds one handed. Justin’s voice was thin and weak, but he was alive and that was all that mattered to JC.
“I’ll call a doctor.”
“No . . .no baby, no doctor. 555-38247, Mississippi will know what to do.” Justin panted out the number of the family restaurant.
“You’re bleeding.” JC was beside himself with worry.
“Call Mississippi baby, tell him that we need help now. He’ll make it better, promise.”
JC scrambled across to the phone that was lying on the floor, knocked over in the scuffle between JC and the tattooed man. He dialled the number that Justin had given him and a deep voice answered.
“Mississippi?” JC sobbed the name into the receiver.
“Who is this?” the deep voice asked.
“JC, help us, Justin . . Justin is bleeding. Help us.”
“Shit.” The phone went dead and JC dropped it back on the bloodstained carpet and crawled back to his lover.
“What should I do?” The teen’s innocence was stopping him from thinking rationally and for himself, reminding Justin that he was just a boy disguised as a man, a child in a man’s body.
“Mississippi will know what to do baby.” Justin hissed in pain as JC eased him out of the chair and laid him flat on the floor.
The door burst open and Joey, Chris and Mississippi piled into the room, revolvers drawn, and safeties off. Joey went straight to Justin’s side, checking his vital signs. “You did good baby bro.”
“Not me,” Justin hissed. “JC. JC saved me.”