“Hope you’ve got something for us…” Morris mumbled.
Rory bit his lip. “I heard him on the phone.”
“And?” Hamish grunted.
“I didn’t hear who was on the other end, but they were talking about Jameson’s farm. Sebastian wants someone to buy it, or a piece of the land or something.”
“Did you hear any figures?”
“He said 250,000, could’ve been talking money, could’ve been talking about the minutes until he’s out. I don’t know for sure.”
Morris shook her head. “Jameson’s farm? Who the hell is Jameson?”
Rory finally pulled his gaze off the table and looked at Hamish. His moustache was patchy, his skin was pale, and when he wiped his hand down his face, Rory noticed his wedding band had gone.
“I know who Jameson is,” he muttered.
Morris gawped. “Who?”
“He has a farm near my house, owns the fields behind my garden.” Hamish gritted his teeth. “Bastard…”
“You think he’s buying the farm?” Morris asked.
“Maybe.”
“Why the hell would he do that?”
“To torment me, to run his shady deals opposite me.”
Morris looked at Rory. “You need to get that phone.”
“He doesn’t keep it in the cell. The guards have searched it twice more since I last saw you, it’s not there.”
“Well, he’s keeping it somewhere!”
Hamish picked at his moustache. “Did he say anything else, any hint who he was telling to buy the farm?”
Rory shook his head. “No, that was all he said, and I haven’t heard him on the phone again.”
“Shi,.” Hamish hissed, pushing back on his chair. It clattered to the floor, and he glared at it. “I’ve gotta stop whatever he’s planning.”
“That’s the problem,” Morris muttered, throwing her hands up in the air. “We don’t know what he’s planning.”
“You gotta get hold of that phone,” Hamish said.
“I don’t know how.”
Morris snorted. “You must be ‘close’ enough now, ask to use it.”
“No.”
“You’re friends aren’t you? Buddies with a monster?”
Rory flared his nostrils. “I can’t ask to use it—he’ll want something in return.”
“Then give it to him.”
“Morris,” Hamish growled, “that’s not funny.”
“Wasn’t trying to be funny.”
“I’ll try, okay,” Rory said.
“Do more than try,” Morris snapped. “Get that phone.”
****
Rory hung his head as he was escorted back to the wing. He released a slow sigh and waited for the gate to clunk. He’d been there three months, and each week that passed, he felt more and more like a fraud. A fraud to Ollie who waited eagerly for him to come back, a fraud to Captain who worked hard to train him up, a fraud to Sebastian who made him smile and offered his protection with no catch, and a fraud to the inspector who helped him in his moment of crisis. His heart, and mind, and cock were tripping over each other, and he was betraying them all.
“Hey, we’ve got twenty minutes until art starts.”
Rory couldn’t raise his head to look at Ollie. “I’m not feeling it.”
“Oh, come on, Mrs. Mason says we’re gonna start something else today.”
“I’m feeling pretty rough.”
“We can stay down here instead, see if we can grab a pool table.”
Rory shook his head. “No, you go to art.”
“But—”
“You get on with those guys, Green and Jack.”
Ollie scrunched his face. “Yeah, they’re okay, but—”
“No buts, I’m not gonna stay down here anyway, I’m gonna lay down for a bit.”
“You sure?”
Rory didn’t reply, he squeezed Ollie’s shoulder, then carried on walking. He hurried up to the second floor and into his cell. He kept his head down and didn’t even glare at Pauly when he commented on how good his ass looked.
Rory lay back on the bed, linked his fingers over his stomach, and closed his eyes. He listened to the muffled noise coming from the wing and could tell when lunch was served. The excited chatter suddenly quietened, and then he heard the slam of cups and trays when it was all over.
“Ollie’s worried about you.”
Rory cracked an eye open and looked at Sebastian. “Feeling rough, that’s all. Did he get to art class?”
“Yeah, came out with a big smile, then immediately rushed over to ask about you.” Sebastian pursed his lips and stepped further inside the cell. “And if Ollie’s worried about you, then so am I.”
Rory bit his tongue when another surge of guilt turned to acid in his stomach. “I’m fine.”
“First, you’re feeling rough, now you’re feeling fine. You had your visit with your uncle today—is everything all right?”
Rory pressed his hands to his face and didn’t reply. He felt fingers close around his wrist.
“Hey…”
Sebastian eased his hand away. “Talk to me. Is your uncle all right?”
“Yeah, he’s okay.”
“Then what is it?”
“Nothing.”
Sebastian narrowed his eyes. “You always seem anxious before he visits, and you’re miserable afterwards.”
Rory didn’t confirm or deny it, He tried to roll over, but Sebastian grabbed his shoulder and stopped him. “You don’t get on with your uncle?”
“He’s all I have.”
“Where are your parents?”
“My parents are dead.”
Sebastian nodded awkwardly, then mumbled, “That explains it.”
“My mum died when I was three, I can’t even remember her, and my dad died a few years ago.”
“Were you close to your dad?”
Rory picked at the sheet and didn’t look Sebastian in the eye. “Yeah. When people find out my mum died, they assume my childhood was terrible, but my dad made sure it wasn’t.”
“He was a good man?”
“A good man, and a great dad.”
“How’d he die?”
“Cancer, there wasn’t anything the doctors could’ve done.”
“I’m sorry.”
Rory sighed. “It’s not your fault.”
“Is that why you lost your way?”
“What?”
“After your dad passed, is that when you started with the drugs, dealing?”
Rory felt the stinging in his eyes, and quickly slapped his hands back over his face.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he murmured.
Sebastian tried to pry his hands away, but Rory didn’t let him.
“He’d be ashamed of me.”
“I’m sure that’s not true.”
“I’m an idiot, and a liar, and I’ve made a mess out of this.”
“Out of what?”
Rory shook his head. “My life.”
“We’re all in here because we’ve messed up, but most of us haven’t messed up our whole lives. You’ve got eight years, and then you can think of a way of turning it around, making your dad proud.”
He wanted that more than anything. His dad would want Rory to do the right thing, he’d want him to help bring Sebastian down before he could hurt anyone. Despite his heart and mind being tugged in all different directions, he knew what he had to do, he just hated the thought of doing it.
“And you’ve got your uncle, he visits like clockwork. Some of the guys in here have no one.”
“Sebastian…can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
Rory removed his hands from his face. “That phone…”
Sebastian checked behind himself, then came closer. “What about it?”
“Could I use it?”
Sebastian exhaled through his nose, and grimaced.
“Please.” Rory whispered.
“Okay … can’t stand you sounding
so sad.” He bent down, tugged up his pants, and retrieved the phone from his sock. “Don’t worry, they’re a clean pair.”
Rory snorted, and took the phone. “Thank you.”
Sebastian tilted his head, then reached out and cupped Rory’s face.
He traced Rory’s cheekbone with his thumb, then mumbled, “No problem. I’ll stand watch outside, when I start coughing in a hysterical manner, it means you should hang up, hang up and come perform the Heimlich on me.”
Rory laughed, and Sebastian backed away. He pulled the door to as he left, and Rory turned his attention to the phone.
No contact numbers, no messages, no call log. There was nothing left on it, Sebastian covered his tracks. Rory huffed, tapped the phone on his chin, then reopened it, and typed in Erica’s number. She didn’t pick up, and he tried again.
“Please,” he whispered.
“I haven’t had an accident, and I don’t wanna buy anything.”
Her voice was croaky, and Rory sat upright. “What’s he done now?”
“Rory?”
“What’s Danny done?”
“Nothing.”
“You sound like you’ve been crying?”
“No, no, wait a sec.”
Rory frowned at the sound of a rustle, then Erica very obviously blew her nose.
“I’ve got a cold. Had it for a few days, it’s hell.”
“Hot lemon, honey and a dash of—”
“Chili, I know, dad’s specialty, but I can’t make it the same, and when Danny tried my tongue caught fire. Hey, why did you assume Danny had upset me?”
“Thought you might have fought about the car again.”
“No, no fight. In fact, we’re getting a new one, picked it together.”
“What is it?”
“Sexy soft-top Porsche.”
Rory rolled his eyes. “I think you’re too young for a mid-life crisis, but I guess he’s not.”
A distorted laugh made it to Rory’s ear.
“We took it for a test drive, and it won me over. It’s gonna be our first baby.”
“I can’t be an uncle to a car.”
“Uncle to the car, see if you can handle the responsibility, then maybe in a few years, uncle to a baby. That’s enough about me, are you all right?”
“Yeah, I’m okay.”
“The spying’s going okay?”
Rory nipped his lip, then mumbled, “It’s harder than I thought.”
“Where are you?”
“I can’t tell you that.”
“When can I see you?”
“I don’t know.”
Erica sighed. “There was a lot of point to this call then…”
“I wanted to hear your voice.”
“When you say things like that, I get worried.”
“Sorry, I don’t mean to worry you.”
Sebastian started coughing outside the cell, and it got progressively louder. “Erica, I’ve got to go.”
“Already?”
“Yeah, love you.”
He hung up and shoved the phone in his pocket just before the door swung open.
“What you doing in here?”
Rory placed his hand on his stomach. “Feeling rough.”
“You keep this door open.”
“Sorry.”
The guard glared at him, then backed away. Sebastian walked in a minute later, folded his arms over his chest, and raised his eyebrows.
“So you didn’t rush out to save me…”
Rory snorted. “Yeah, sorry.”
He handed the phone over, and Sebastian promptly crouched and slipped it down his sock.
“Feeling any better?”
“Yeah, I am actually.”
“Who did you call?”
Rory averted his gaze. “A friend.”
“Oh, I see, that kinda friend…”
“No, not that ‘kinda friend’, whatever that even means.”
“Like a lover on the outside.”
“Definitely not.”
Sebastian flung his hands up. “It’s okay, you don’t have to explain.”
“What about you? Any lover on the outside?”
“Nope, a few close friends that are eager to see me, but no lover. No relationship to salvage. I didn’t have time for that.”
“What did you spend your time doing then?”
Sebastian smacked his lips together. “Getting money.”
“Money?”
“It was all about making money, lots of it.”
“And did you?”
“Oh, yeah,” Sebastian smirked, “I’m sorted for money.”
“Dirty money?” Rory whispered.
Sebastian leaned closer. “Absolutely filthy. Now come on, you missed lunch, you can’t miss dinner, too.”
“Are you asking me or telling?”
“Without a doubt, telling. Get downstairs and eat, and then we can play chess.”
****
Rory laid in bed and waited patiently for Sebastian’s cue. His heart beat harder and faster the longer he had to wait, and he did all he could to calm his breathing. Rory never knew when it was going to happen, but he was always ready, always hard, always listening intently to the bed below.
He didn’t know whether it was a Vaseline night, or not.
Sebastian was impossible to predict, but Rory longed for the nights he got out of bed, offered the Vaseline tub, then disappeared from view. Those nights were relief, and his cock ached with anticipation every time.
They stroked themselves at the same time, and Sebastian’s exotic gasps, and grunts went straight to Rory’s cock. He didn’t last long, would’ve been embarrassed, but Sebastian didn’t last much longer than him. It was purely physical, a release of tension and pent up frustration. Rory needed it, and that was how he justified jerking off with Sebastian Claw.
“Night, Rory.”
He closed his eyes and scrunched the sheet in his hands. It wasn’t a Vaseline night, and the alternative was worse. Rory had to convince his cock to go down. He had to ignore the fact Sebastian was laying underneath, naked. He had to lie in the dark and not think about how badly he needed to cum, and how Sebastian’s breathing changed when he got closer and closer to orgasm.
It was torturous.
His eyes stung as he stared up at the ceiling, and his fingers went numb clutching the sheet.
It felt like it took hours for his cock to soften, then he sighed, closed his eyes, and drifted off.
****
The room was still dark, and Rory couldn’t understand why he’d woken. He was still tired, and groggy, but his crotch tingled. He blinked in a daze, then froze when he heard it.
The sound of the Vaseline tub being opened, in a very slow, very deliberate manner.
The sound had fed into Rory’s sub-conscious, and gone straight to his cock. The frustration, the ache, it was so intense Rory pressed his lips together not to sob.
Sebastian didn’t get out of bed, but Rory heard the familiar wet slap of him touching himself. Rory whimpered and reached into his boxers—he couldn’t help himself—and joined in. He didn’t need the Vaseline, he got wet enough without it, and his slicked repetitive sound joined Sebastian’s.
Rory gasped when he came, and the warm lines of cum decorated his chest. He wiped it away with the sheet, then waited for his heart to stop racing.
Sebastian didn’t say night to him, and he didn’t say anything about their midnight escapade in the morning, instead he gave Rory a look. His eyes sparkled, his lips twitched with smugness, and he oozed so much confidence Rory felt aroused and ashamed at the same time.
It was only physical, a needed release, completely natural. He reasoned with himself all day long, but couldn’t reason with the fact he wanted more. He wanted to touch Sebastian, and have Sebastian touch him. His head, his heart, and his cock were all tugging him in different directions, and he was cracking under the pressure.
Chapter Eleven
“I didn’t think it w
as possible…”
Rory glanced up at Captain. “What?”
“You look worse than me.”
“Haven’t been sleeping well.”
Captain sat down opposite. “Even without me screaming the place down?”
“Yeah, well … looks like I’m going through a bout of insomnia.”
Rory didn’t add that it was horny induced insomnia. At any point during the night, Sebastian could toy with the Vaseline tub, and it didn’t matter if Rory was exhausted, or he was deep in the mists of sleep, he stirred, and woke up hard.
“How’s your sleep?”
Captain shrugged. “I sleep, but in the day, I don’t quite feel myself.”
“How do you feel?”
“Hazy, like I’m all soft around the edges.”
Rory frowned. “That doesn’t sound good.”
“It’s one or the other—I don’t take them, and my mind destroys itself, or I do take them, and I’m detached from myself anyway.”
“There’s a third option.”
“Which is?”
“Go see the psychiatrist again.”
“I can’t.”
“It was months ago, explain how you didn’t mean to get angry, but his questions felt invasive.”
“I could do that, I could say sorry, and swear that I’ll not do it again, but that would be a lie. I don’t know how I’m gonna react, I can’t promise I won’t shout, or scream, or breakdown in tears.”
“Did you feel like hurting him?”
Captain flung himself back and gawped. “No, of course not.”
“Sorry, I wondered that’s all.”
“I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make me feel good making him back off, making him go all wide-eyed and scared. It felt good in that moment for punishing him for prying, but now…”
“Make another appointment. You don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to, you could go there and just apologize, and then you’ll stop feeling this guilt.”
Captain scrunched up his face as if he was in pain, then nodded. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
He got to his feet. “I’ll see if I can sort out an appointment now.”
As soon as Captain walked away, Ollie slid into his seat.
“Where’s he going?”
“To make an appointment with the psychiatrist.”
“Why? He’s stopped screaming now.”
“Only because of the medication.”
Ollie shrugged, and Rory tapped his temple. “It hasn’t fixed anything going on in his head, only put a block on it, or a veil or whatever.”
The Rat Page 9
