Chapter 19
Grim
The road to Betsville, Ohio was long and uneventful, but Grim didn’t mind in the slightest. Misha spent most of the time quietly solving a few dozen sudokus and chatting to him. At the back of his mind, Grim knew Dennis would most probably be fine, but he still wanted to check and warn the guy if necessary
They drove past a gas station that didn’t seem to have much traffic at this time of day and then down the road, following the instructions of Grim’s navigation system. With the sunlight turning the asphalt dark orange, a lazy satisfaction filled Grim’s bones as he put his arm over Misha’s shoulders and pulled him close. They had stayed in Charleston for a few days, enjoying the benefits of having company for once, and he was glad to see Misha warming up to strangers. He really did seem to trust Grim’s judgment when it came to people so that was some kind of progress considering how afraid he’d been of any stranger just weeks ago.
The weight of Misha’s declaration was still fresh in Grim’s mind, and he found it hard not to smile whenever he looked at his sweet, pretty boyfriend. Misha had been the first since Coy to confess his love to Grim, but as much as Grim didn’t want to unfairly compare the two, it felt as if Misha’s words were more sincere. They were both adults, and the truth was that Misha was ready to love Grim despite the dark side he had always hidden from Coy, out of fear of rejection.
And he would have been. Coy had been too good of a person, too pure to accept the love of a true predator, even if he himself were safe from Grim’s sharp teeth. Misha, on the other hand, was ready to take Grim the way he was. He still smiled, whispered sweet words, and sucked Grim’s cock, no matter how Grim earned a living or how he liked to earn a living for that matter. This was much more than Grim could have ever hoped for.
Misha stroked Grim’s thigh with a smile. “I’m sad I will have to disappoint him about the meeting I promised him.”
“But didn’t he want to see you anyway? That would be even better. His beloved porn star appears at his doorstep!” said Grim, hugging Misha with one arm.
Misha tapped his fingers on Grim’s jeans. “With a big bad boyfriend.”
Grim chewed on his lip, enjoying the way Misha touched him almost all the time. Physical affection wasn’t something he had received much of throughout his life. “Is he ... a devotee?”
Misha went silent for a moment. “I think he’s a pretender. You know, likes to pretend being wheelchair-bound. I think. He was excited to learn about how I do certain things without my lower legs.”
Grim frowned. “What things?”
“How I reach something from a higher shelf. If I can move on my knees, if I have phantom pains ... that kind of thing.”
Grim always found this kind of stuff strange, but who was he to judge? “Does this freak you out? That someone wants to act as if he were disabled?”
Misha pouted and shrugged. “Not really, no. It’s weird but harmless. Devotees can be much more dangerous in my eyes. No offense.”
“Yeah, some guys are a bit ... stalkerish, I suppose. Good thing you ended up with such a fine man.”
Misha snorted. “Such a fine specimen. And so modest too.”
Grim laughed and squeezed his hand on Misha’s nape. “Sure, mock me, and we’ll see how you’re gonna sing once I mount you again.”
Misha’s cheeks got a splash of red, but it was now getting less visible with his skin sporting a tan. “It was … intense.”
Grim massaged Misha’s back, remembering how good it felt to be buried in Misha’s tight, pliant body only a few days ago. Misha had moaned, shouted, and shuddered impaled on Grim’s cock, and he would do so again soon enough. But not today. Grim didn’t want to hurt him in the long run, and he was content with only getting to fuck Misha’s ass once in a while, especially since he hadn’t even been sure if that would ever happen. Not everyone liked to be penetrated, even less so by a cock as enormous as Grim’s, and he would not give up on someone as perfect as Misha because of something so insignificant. It wasn’t the way Grim usually had sex anyway, and he’d be content with just being able to do all the other things as long as Misha stayed at his side.
“You still sore?”
“No, but I can still viscerally recall the feeling.” Misha sent him an air kiss.
Grim laughed, but his attention turned to the road when he noticed they were approaching their goal. Dennis lived out of town, and the houses were a bit scattered here, but once he saw the number at the front of a small bungalow without a garage, he drove into the front yard and stopped the truck. “I think that’s the place.”
Despite this being a preventive visit, Grim couldn’t help a chill going down his spine and his attention sharpening. Just in case.
Misha took a deep breath. “Okay, let’s do this.”
Grim jumped off the cab and onto the white gravel. “Is he away? He’s bound to have a car here.”
“How am I supposed to know?” Misha grumbled as he opened the door and sat sideways, waiting for Grim.
Grim raised his eyebrows at him but let it go and pulled the wheelchair off the back of the truck, watching his bike with longing. He needed to get Misha a car and get back on his ride, or he’d eventually go crazy from being locked in a box, even in such fine company. “I don’t know ... because you’re friends with him?”
“I wouldn’t go that far. And it’s been what? Over a month now.” Misha looked at Grim with a small smile.
Grim couldn’t help but smile back as he gently pulled Misha out of the seat and held him up for much longer than was necessary. “A month. That went quick.”
“It’s a special power amputees have. We can speed up and slow down time,” Misha said with a straight face and pushed the wheels of his chair forward once he was sitting in it.
“Magical creatures. No wonder you have all bewitched me,” said Grim, following Misha to the door. He put his hand on one of his guns, but he wasn’t expecting any unwanted company without a car around.
“And gay ones are even rarer. Unicorns, right?” Misha was by the door, but stalled, as if he forgot how to knock.
Grim gave his wheel a gentle nudge with his foot. “Can’t you reach the bell? ”
Misha sighed and took a few more seconds but eventually pressed on the button, crossing his arms on his chest once they heard a loud melody playing inside.
“Why are you so nervous? He’s not gonna be dangerous with me here,” whispered Grim, snickering with pride.
“I know, it’s just … it connects me back to the life with Gary and makes me uncomfortable. I’m about to meet another person who’s seen me inside out. It’s embarrassing.”
“I really should show you those movies I made. Then, there will be two of us,” said Grim and tousled Misha’s hair, even though he wasn’t proud of his work in porn. He hadn’t been that good, and he’d had trouble staying hard with everyone watching. He’d rather go back to breaking into homes than to the film set.
“Maybe you should.” Misha smirked and rang the doorbell again, for longer this time.
An uneasiness settled in Grim’s stomach. “Did he say where he works?”
“He told me he works from home.” Misha looked up at Grim and rang the doorbell a few more times.
“It’s kind of late,” said Grim, looking at his watch. It was almost eight pm. When his gaze rolled toward the road, he noticed the mailbox and walked toward it in quick strides. He didn’t even have to open it to see how full it was, and his stomach twisted as he pulled back the flap and emptied the box of a whole stack of letters.
Misha’s face went pale, and he wouldn’t say a word. He entwined his fingers in his lap and cracked his knuckles.
Grim looked through the post, but hope didn’t die in him until he saw a notice dated three weeks back.
“Fuck,” he muttered, suddenly feeling like a shell. He didn’t want to look at Misha, but the ragged breath close by reminded him that Misha was there, waiting for answers Grim couldn’t provide.
“Look ... maybe he’s on vacation,” said Grim, even though he didn’t really believe that. This was a fucking nightmare. Misha would never forgive himself if those fuckers took someone because of him.
“He didn’t have enough money to go anywhere. This trip to meet me was supposed to be his first vacation in three years.” Misha’s voice got a higher pitch, and Grim brought himself to look at him .
“Do you have his phone number? E-mail?”
He was feeling sick from just thinking about this. And while he couldn’t blame Misha for wanting to save himself, he wouldn’t lie and say he didn’t care about what possibly had happened to Dennis. Another boy would get mutilated. The same way Misha had and that girl from the Louisiana chapter.
Misha dictated both the phone number and the e-mail to Grim. He really had a freakishly good memory. Grim pushed the mail back where he found it and listened to the beeping in his cell phone as his stomach turned with anger. He was no knight in shining armor, but cutting people’s limbs off made him have visceral reactions, which he couldn’t stop.
“He’ll die,” Misha whispered. “And I pulled him in.”
Grim swore and rubbed his forehead, finally dropping the call. Misha was right. No one would be picking it up. He folded his arms and looked at Misha, unsure what to say. It was over. Zero, and the boy for that matter, could be anywhere.
“He will cut him up …” Misha’s voice was high-pitched and dull as he ran his fingers over the door.
Grim looked down at him, knowing he needed to sober up and help Misha forget. Those things happened sometimes. They came here too late. Just like he had been too late to save Misha. To save Coy. “You don’t know that. Maybe they need him for something else.”
“Yeah, like rape,” Misha hissed and clenched his fists, so small in the wheelchair despite his well-defined arms.
Grim sucked in both his lips and kicked a darker piece of gravel against the wall. “There’s nothing we can do now. Maybe the police will raid them eventually,” he said, even though it was all wishful thinking.
Misha licked his lips, and the silence extended into what felt like eternity. “Can you break into this house?” he asked in the end.
Grim frowned and looked back at the door. “You think he’s in there?”
“No, but maybe I can look at his computer and figure something out.”
Grim’s arms relaxed, and it was as if adrenaline fueled his bloodstream again. “Right, you’re a hacker,” he said and quickly approached the door, pulling out his own version of the Swiss Army knife. Breaking in didn’t even take a minute. Houses in the countryside tended to be easy prey with their simple locks and all too much trust put in strangers .
“A lot of what I know should still be valid. I remember how I hacked into their system, I just … hoped I wouldn’t have to use that knowledge.”
Grim looked back at Misha, a bit conflicted about all this, knowing Misha would be reliving this day over and over. But on the other hand, if they didn’t try, Misha would never forgive himself. Or him for that matter. Grim knew a thing or two about regret, and he’d do a lot to save Misha the pain.
He pushed open the door and winced at the stale scent of dust and rotten produce. This wasn’t the house of someone who went on vacation. A notebook and some pieces of paper were scattered over the floor, and as they moved in farther, a whole array of pens littered the carpet, next to a fallen cup.
“Shit,” muttered Grim and stopped Misha before he could wheel inside. “No fingerprints.”
Misha nodded and reached back to his bag to pull out the gloves Grim had bought him for the visit at Pat-the-homophobe’s house. “Did you leave fingerprints on the letters?” Misha asked and wheeled down the corridor.
Grim massaged his nose. “Probably, but those came after Dennis went missing,” he said, following Misha inside and donning his gloves as well.
The stench of food came from the large room on the left side, and the landscape inside the house screamed of struggle with chairs fallen to the wooden floor and large spots of dried fluid on the panels. There was a plate of food on the coffee table, now covered by grey and white fuzz.
“I found his computer,” Misha said from afar, and selfishly, a part of Grim wished they hadn’t come here to check on Dennis. Misha wouldn’t have to face the horror of what he’d been through yet again. It was Grim’s fault. He’d been the one to plant this idea in Misha’s head, and now they would both be dealing with the consequences. He walked past an open bedroom with a tidily made double bed and went straight into the open doorway of what looked like a home office. He stopped in his tracks when he spotted a wheelchair in the corner. Must have been Dennis’s.
Misha glanced at Grim over his shoulder and pulled his hair back into a short ponytail. He pulled out the keyboard from underneath the desktop and turned on the computer, watching the screen in silence. Once the sign-in form appeared on the screen, he typed something in and logged in after a few attempts.
“You know his password?” asked Grim, and he licked his lips, uncomfortable with the thought Misha could just as easily sneak into his own tablet .
Misha shook his head. “I tried ‘password,’ then ‘drowssap,’ then the same with zero instead of the ‘o.’ It worked. I had a few more guesses I could try, but otherwise, I wouldn’t try to crack it and would just go past the operating system altogether.”
Grim scowled, staring at Misha with a sense of inadequacy. It took him several seconds to figure out that “drowssap” was ‘“password” written backward. He had no idea how one overrode a system either, but then again, everyone had their strengths. This was Misha’s, even though Misha had so far gone out of his way to bury those skills along with the suffering they brought him.
Even in the gloves, he was quick on the keyboard, and Grim didn’t understand all that he was doing as he opened several windows in which he wrote in code, so all Grim could do was watch and wait.
Grim slowly pulled closer the empty wheelchair and sat in it, looking over Misha’s shoulder with his heart in his throat, as if this were a thrill ride. “Are you gonna look through his e-mails?”
Misha shook his head. “I won’t find anything there. I’m sneaking into their system and trying to find him. They might have a location for him. Or a video feed if he’s being kept somewhere. I know his codename was Denny.” The words sounded cool and detached, but sweat beaded on Misha’s face and neck. His fingers tapped the keyboard at a rising speed.
Grim exhaled loudly and squeezed his shoulder, hypnotized by the letters and signs rapidly changing in a black window on the screen. “It’s fine. I’m here with you. We can disappear if they somehow locate you.”
Misha’s only acknowledgement was a nod, and his face stayed tense as his eyes scanned line after line that appeared on the screen. When a new window popped up on the screen, Grim thought it was yet another one in which Misha was performing his digital mumbo-jumbo, but Misha froze, the skin of his arm burning Grim even through the glove. There was one sentence in the new window.
[Are you looking for something, Misha? 0]
Grim could physically sense blood dropping lower in his body, and it left his head light and weirdly hot. “Misha?” he whispered, staring at the window and all but smelling Misha’s fear.
“Don’t say anything you don’t want him to hear,” Misha hissed, already breathless as he put his hand over a camera built into the screen of the computer .
[I didn’t think we had any secrets between us. We’ve been through so much together, after all. 0, appeared in the next line.]
“He can hear us?” Grim rushed to his feet, frantically looking around for a place where Zero could have hidden a bug. How could they have known Misha would visit this place?
[Is this what you’re looking for? 0]
Another window popped up on the screen. This time, it was a video of a young guy, naked, curled up in an empty room. He still had all his limbs intact.
[Or have you come to reminisce? 0]
Yet another widow appeared next to what seemed like a live-feed of Dennis’s captivity. This one was handheld, and Misha screamed out loud, pushing away from the computer and letting go of the screen.
“Misha?” Grim steadied him, pulling Misha’s head against his chest, but his gaze turned to the video, and as he looked on, the film moved into a closeup of thighs that were fastened to two smooth boards with a whole array of leather straps, but they still twitched around a bare, soft cock.
Misha bared his teeth and reached out to turn off the computer screen.
[I wouldn’t do that, unless you want to see Denny hurt. 0]
[And you don’t, do you? 0]
Misha’s shoulders trembled, but he wrote back. [Don’t hurt him.]
“What is that?” muttered Grim as the camera in the video moved up the naked chest. His body already knew, but when Misha’s face, so much younger, came into view, he couldn’t even breathe anymore.
[Who is your friend? 0]
“No one,” Misha muttered.
[Same no one who helped you pass through the hospital in Charleston without a record? 0]
Grim smirked. “Everyone has a price,” he said, but his mouth tightened when the camera switched to a wider shot, and this time, there was a man in a white suit standing between Misha’s spread, strapped-up legs. A white rubber mask covered his head, making it look like old school bubblegum. And all at once, it hit Grim what was going to happen in the video. Then he spotted a glint of serrated metal. Before young Misha’s frightened cry tore through the air and stabbed Grim in the heart, he knew what Zero wanted them to witness.
This fucker was a maniac .
[Walking down memory lane … ah. 0]
[Not that you can walk down it, but you do have a wheelchair I see. 0]
“Fuck you,” Misha hissed and put his face against Grim’s stomach as the cries for help escalated, barking through the speakers.
[Language. You don’t want poor Denny to go through all this as well, do you? 0]
Grim exhaled and slowly turned his head toward the screen, finally noticing the yellow light on the webcam. Fucker had them figured out. Grim’s reflexes told him to maul the computer with bullets, take Misha, whether he liked it or not, and drive far, far away, where no one could find them. But he knew he couldn’t do that. This wouldn’t solve anything. Was he to run all his life because some freak sadist found the chase amusing? The guy didn’t understand whom he was dealing with. Yet another bloody animal who believed he was the top predator out there.
His thoughts froze when the hacksaw touched Misha’s shin, and a streak of blood slowly slid down the pale skin.
“Turn it off,” Misha whimpered, tears rolling down his cheeks and shaking underneath Grim’s arm. “I remember what you did.”
[So pretty when you cry. 0]
Grim exhaled and looked straight into the camera. “Don’t make this worse for yourself,” he said, fighting off the urge to just smash all the machinery with his bare hands. He couldn’t do that, not with Misha trembling so hard in his arms.
The young Misha on screen screamed all the way to the heavens once the hacksaw bit into his body and began a grueling ordeal. Misha clenched his fingers in Grim’s T-shirt.
[You don’t know who you are dealing with. 0]
[But I do have an offer that could save you both your skins. 0]
Grim smirked, even though he had a feeling it was more like a grimace than a smile, as he couldn’t look away from the man in white calmly sawing through Misha’s leg as the boy thrashed and screamed, delirious from the pain.
“What do you want?” Misha rasped, only glancing to the screen every now and then.
[You survived the amputation, survived the raid at the compound. I suppose even a cockroach deserves to get one more chance. 0]
Grim bit his tongue, not wanting to give Zero a hint at who he was dealing with, really. He might have foolishly revealed too much already. He took a deep breath and gently petted Misha’s back. The sight of Misha’s lower leg breaking off and hanging on a bit of tissue made food rush up his throat. Only sheer willpower allowed him keep it down.
[You have access to dirt on me. I need dirt on you. There’s only so long I can depend on your conscience wanting to keep Denny alive. 0]
[I want a video of you and your new best friend killing someone. I don’t care who. Your faces need to be in the picture. No masks. 0]
[If you can get that for me, I’ll let you go. 0]
“What about Denny?” asked Grim in a tight voice.
[You can take him back. He’s just a safety measure for me. I can get another boy. 0]
The blood dripping from the raw stump on the screen had none of the appeal Grim’s usual victims had.
The younger Misha had passed out, and Grim was already grateful for that. In the video, the masked man was unstrapping his legs as blood slowly seeped down the table despite a tourniquet applied above the wound. It was sickening to watch, but maybe at least, they wouldn’t have to witness the other leg being taken.
“I’ll do it,” Misha uttered and only looked up to Grim for a second with his bloodshot eyes.
[Is that your phone? 0]
Grim’s phone rang once, sending Grim’s nerves into overdrive.
[Good. I’ll stay in touch. You have one week. 0]
All the windows on the screen closed.
Grim exhaled, staring back at Misha, then rushed forward, and pushed the computer off the desk: the box, the screen, the cam, and all. He hurled it to the floor with a scream of breaking plastic and shattering glass. And yet it wasn’t enough. He kicked the desk next and shoved it on top of the broken electronics.
“Fuck.”
Misha curled into a ball in his wheelchair, sobbing, and seeing him like this made Grim regret coming here. “This will never end,” he whined.
Grim’s natural reaction was to hug him, tell him it would be fine, but he would not do that here, not now.
“Birdie, let’s go,” he said and took the reins, pushing Misha’s wheelchair out into the corridor and then straight toward the exit. His joints were so stiff they felt like they’d break if he walked on, but he would do it for Misha, who needed help much more than Grim did no matter how much it hurt to see his lovely boy brutalized. Zero would pay the price. He would be hunted down and mauled just like anyone else who’d ever dare hurt Misha again.
Misha looked like a shadow of himself when Grim helped him up into the cab. His eyes had that haunted, fearful look like when Grim had found him under the desk in his room in Louisiana. Grim needed to take him away from here as soon as possible or his bird would stumble into his own mind again.
He drove straight back to town, mentally exhausted as they passed the community center, the gas station, and a small school. It’d been an hour since they last saw those places, and yet nothing was the same. No matter how hard he tried, Grim couldn’t wipe out the image of Misha’s severed bone and the blood gushing out of his open body. The echo of Misha’s screams meddled with his brain, and as much as he wanted to provide support, every time he tried to say something, he couldn’t bring himself to.
Misha patted his arm. “Stop the truck,” he muttered, and Grim instinctively looked into the rearview mirror, thinking that maybe they were being followed, but there was no one there. Just an empty dark road between the trees. He pulled over and looked at Misha, aching to do something, even though he felt painfully helpless.
Misha pushed open the door and bent over, leaning out. Seconds later, he threw up, his whole body shaking.
Grim petted his back, shifting in the seat to be closer. He kissed Misha between the shoulderblades and slid his arms around his midsection. It was the first thing that gave him some sort of relief since they left. “I’m here.”
It took a while, but Misha finally pulled himself back up, first washing out his mouth with some water and then turning to Grim for a hug. “He’s sick ,” he whispered. “Who does things like this?”
“He likes it,” said Grim breathlessly, hugging Misha as tight as he could without breaking his bones. It only now struck him just how tense he’d been as well as how much his body needed this moment of tenderness. “But he won’t touch you again. I promise.”
“He wants us to kill someone. I can’t just kill someone else to save myself and Denny. Or can I? Is that me? I don’t know ...” Misha’s voice was soft and trembling, and he wouldn’t move away from Grim by even an inch .
“We won’t kill just anyone. I can get a contract. Someone despicable who no one will ever miss,” whispered Grim.
Misha looked up at him with those big eyes full of hope. “You can do that?” And with those words, Grim finally felt capable again. He pushed hair out of Misha’s face and nodded, smiling at him as best as he could.
“Ask me what I can’t do.”