Chapter Thirty
Declan could feel the warmth of the sun bathe his body. His brain floated in a sea of exhaustion, and he just wanted to sleep. He felt a gentle nudge below his ribs.
“Go away.”
A slobbering tongue was lapping at his bare right flank.
“Cut it out, Duck.”
“So, that’s what you call that boy of yours,” a voice said, penetrating Declan’s dream. “I bet you miss your little Duck doing this to you. But, don’t worry, babe, you’ve got me now.”
The voice was deep, but had a raspy edge to it. Between sentences, the person licked Declan’s torso, lapping at it like a dog. Declan opened his eyes. A hood still covered his head. He tried to move away, but his body was still shackled.
“I’m sorry. Does that bother you?” the voice asked. “I’m sure your boy wakes you up like that. Or does he focus his attention on this?” Declan felt a hand on his crotch, then lips kissing him through his briefs.
“What do you want?” Declan yelled.
“I want you to love me, the way you love Charlie.”
“That’ll never happen.”
“Well then, I guess what I want doesn’t really matter to you, does it? You’re so selfish.”
The person slid off the table, then pulled Declan’s hood just high enough to expose his mouth, and kissed him. Declan felt stubble. He heard the person shifting things around. There was the sound of a paper bag being opened and something being unwrapped. “Open wide.”
Declan kept his lips tightly clamped.
“Oh, don’t be so paranoid. It’s just a sandwich. I’m not going to kill you…yet. And it only seems fair to give you a little nourishment before then.”
Declan felt bread touch the edge of his lips.
He was hungry. He consumed the sandwich bite by bite as it was fed to him by his captor.
A straw was inserted into his mouth. Declan sucked and a cool liquid flowed down his throat.
It was cold coffee. The caffeine gave him strength and his brain fog cleared slightly.
He decided it might be wiser to play nice.
“Thank you. I needed that,” Declan said.
“You’re welcome.”
The person pulled the hood back down over Declan’s face. There was the sound of a chair being dragged toward him.
Declan needed to get this person talking. Maybe he could reason out exactly who it was, although at this moment, he wasn’t sure what he could do with that information.
“You said you’re not going to kill me yet,” Declan said. “Why not get it over with?”
“Because that’s not part of the plan,” his captor explained. They sounded irritated.
“So, what is your plan?”
“You’ll find out soon enough, but maybe that’s not the question you should be asking.”
“Okay,” Declan replied. “How about this? Who are you?”
“You’re the detective. Detect!”
“I’ll need some clues,” Declan said.
“Ooo, you want to play games, do you? Okay…you’ve met me before…more than once.”
“Where?”
“At the bathhouse, for starters,” his captor said.
Declan’s mind raced. How many men had he encountered at The Greek over the years? He tried to remember any that might bear a grudge. “If you want me to guess who you are, you’re going to have to be more specific than that.”
“Too many men to narrow it down? Oh, you were a slut, weren’t you? All right, I hit on you more than a few times, but maybe I wasn’t your type. You never showed any interest. But the worst part was that each time I approached you, you looked at me like you’d never seen me before.”
Declan squeezed his eyes tight, trying to force a memory to the surface. “I was usually drunk when I was there, so my memories are a bit hazy. And as for being my type, I have very particular tastes.”
“Oh, you mean like your little friend Charlie? Well, I’m certainly not like him. Not that…squeaky clean and boyish. It’s funny, at the baths you always seemed to go for the rougher types.”
“Maybe if you describe yourself, I’ll remember you,” Declan said.
“I’m blond, tall and muscled, but not bulky like you. Of course, you haven’t always encountered me that way.”
“That could be a lot of guys I’ve met.”
“We’ve also met a few times at Bar-None, but you rejected every pass I made. And, just like at The Greek, you never seemed to remember me. I can understand why. The last time we bumped into each other, I wasn’t looking my best.” The guy chuckled.
Declan searched his memory. “Still nothing.”
“I did see you once outside your office. It was a cold winter night. Charlie was there.”
When the hell was that? Something in the back of Declan’s mind rang a bell, but the thought slipped away.
“You know all of this that’s been happening…it’s really your fault,” his captor said. “If you’d only shown some interest in me, things might have been different. And now that Charlie’s in the picture, well…”
He fell silent before adding, “You’re never at The Greek these days and you don’t get drunk and pick up guys at Bar-None. He’s domesticated you. You’ve become a cute little sheep instead of the horny ram you used to be.”
His captor started to walk away.
“What are you going to do to me?” Declan called out.
“I’m going to make sure that the last moments of your life are spent experiencing the pleasure you could have had if you’d made a different choice. And, as punishment for taking you away from me, I’m going to make Charlie watch—”
“No!” Declan yelled.
“Oh, yes. And just to make him suffer even more, I’m going to make him watch you die. But don’t worry, I’m not without compassion. I’ll kill him soon after he knows you are good and dead. It’ll be a real Romeo and Juliet ending,” he spat out.
Declan rocked the table, trying to tear free of his bonds. It was useless. He heard a door open, then the sound of a person’s feet on the concrete floor.
“Hey, brother. How’s it going?”
The voice was higher pitched. It was familiar. “Jules!” Declan called out. “You’re all right!”
“Well, isn’t he the smart one,” she replied. “I hope you enjoyed my little performance.
So, bro, have you had your fun yet?”
Declan shifted his head to see if he could get a glimpse of her through the gap at the bottom of the hood but he couldn’t tilt his head back far enough. He felt a finger run across his right nipple. He heard her inhale.
“Stop that!” the other person screamed out. “He’s mine.”
“Party pooper. You were always lousy at sharing your toys. Anyway, I just dropped by to let you know that I’m heading off to get Charlie. I should be back here in a few hours. And then we can take care of both of our playthings.”
“Please don’t hurt him. Leave him out of this,” Declan begged. “He’s done nothing.”
“He’s done more than you know,” she said. “God, you are as self-absorbed as he is. You know, this is a lot bigger than just you, Declan.”
“Come on,” the man said to Jules. “I’ll lock the door after you.”
They walked away.
“Jules, who the fuck is with you?” Declan yelled.
The retreating footsteps paused.
“Me?” the male voice asked. “I thought the brilliant Declan Hunt would have guessed that by now.”
His footsteps slowly approached. “I’m the unwanted. I’m the disposed of. I’m the reviled…I’m The Attercop!” The last words were screamed with absolute pain. “And my bite will be the last thing you feel before you die.”
He heard The Attercop walk off, then the sound of a metal door opening, closing, then being locked.