by Rick R. Reed
Thad shook his head. What TJ had said made sense. Still, he didn’t feel right about letting Jared go off with a man who was concealing a firearm on his person.
But he never got a chance to discuss or even broach his misgivings with Jared. Thad had never seen anyone work so fast before. After he finished kissing TJ, Jared whispered something in his ear, flicked the lobe with his tongue, and like so many, many men before him, TJ was helpless to do anything other than follow Jared home.
With equal parts jealousy, sadness, joy, and misgivings, Thad watched as they readied themselves to leave the bar. Jared leaned close to him and kissed him as he was getting ready to depart with TJ. “Sorry about leaving you here by yourself.”
“It’s okay, buddy. It’s the law of the jungle. You found a man.”
Jared grinned. “Maybe you’ll get lucky too. Once word gets around that a prize like you is sitting unescorted at the bar, they will be lining up to vie for your affection.”
“You’re too kind. I don’t know if I’m ready for that yet. Sam….”
Jared put up a hand. “I don’t want to hear it. Let yourself have some fun. But just be careful.” Jared leaned in even closer to whisper, “There’s a full moon outside. If you leave alone, I want you to promise me you’ll have ‘Sweet Cheeks’ call you a cab, okay?”
Thad nodded. It was a good idea. “You be careful. That guy is carrying a gun!”
“I know. And I hope it’s a six-shooter!” Jared winked, and before Thad could think of a comeback, he was headed out the door with TJ, who had already placed a protective hand on his ass.
Chapter 15
“GIVE ME a call sometime. We’ll do it again.” Jared pressed the folded-up Post-it note into TJ’s hand. TJ had left Jared feeling worn out and barely able to walk. Later Jared would have to tell Thad about this encounter, make him jealous by letting him in on how he’d found a man with eleven inches. But that was for morning….
“I’ll call you again for sure. What are you doing next Wednesday?” TJ’s dark brown eyes gazed into Jared’s blue ones.
Jared cocked his head, exhausted. He could barely think about the next few minutes, let alone next Wednesday, so he just said, “Call me… or send me a text. I’m sure we can set something up.” He stood on tiptoe to plant a lingering, deep kiss on TJ. “Meanwhile, I need some time to rest up and recuperate so I can be ready for you again.”
TJ laughed. Jared laughed. They made the usual promises to see one another again soon, which both knew they might or might not keep. And then Jared playfully pushed TJ out the door, shut it behind him, and then turned to lean against the door, arms across his chest. It was his first sexual encounter in over a month, some kind of record for him. He didn’t think he had gone so long without sex since he was a teenager, a span of a good ten years.
The past month had been hard. Hard for Jared to shake the images of that night away from his conscious mind. Even when he succeeded, his subconscious often undermined his efforts, dredging up the gory imagery while he slept, causing him to wake sweating, twisted in his sheets, and with his throat raw from screaming. Once he calmed down, he would wonder what the neighbors thought of the shrieks coming from his apartment in the middle of the night.
Knowing me, they most likely think I was having a good time.
It was also hard for Jared to be out at night alone, to walk the streets of Capitol Hill, which he knew so well and once found so comforting. The recent past had made those same streets fraught with danger, where every footfall behind him was a pursuer, where every shadow hid a hound from hell, and where every unexpected sound—the phone ringing, a floorboard creaking in the hallway outside his apartment, a car backfiring—made him jump and set his heart to pounding.
He didn’t even know if he could have crossed the threshold tonight without the inducement of the beer, Thad’s company, and the absolutely irresistible denim-sheathed bulge that lay way too long on TJ’s left thigh.
Jared was glad, as he locked the deadbolt and the chain lock and headed into his bedroom, that he had made some progress. And that I’ve finally gotten laid! His butt felt tender and sore, but in a good way. He couldn’t wait to call Thad in the morning and tell him all about it.
HE RAISES his snout to sniff the air and to take in the glorious sight of the full moon, looking pewter against a sky of almost black. Stars twinkle, and the air has a cold snap to it that he loves. The wind rustles his fur. In the air the scent of sex and filth drifts by as a man makes his way down the sidewalk, his shoulders hunched against the cold wind.
In the shadows he watches the man, knowing from where he has come. Other than the human’s movement down the hill, things are quiet at this late night hour. The beast can actually move along the sidewalk without being noticed.
But it’s the alley behind the small redbrick apartment building to which he is drawn. He looks up and sees a light in one of the rooms go off. He moves around to the back of the building, with its wooden staircases and landings, and looks up to see another light turn on.
He takes the steps quickly, moving toward the light.
JARED SWITCHED on his bedroom light and grinned as he surveyed the mess. The comforter lay in a wad on the floor, and the sheets hung half-off the bed, the striped mattress ticking showing beneath. He was grateful for the glass top covering the cherrywood nightstand next to his bed, because it was sticky with lube and littered with three or four torn condom wrappers.
“Oh, what a night,” Jared sang, grinning.
The room smelled of semen and sweat, and Jared paused in the doorway to sniff and consider how long it had been since his room had smelled this way. Too long.
On the TV/DVD player combo atop his dresser, a porn still played, the moans and grunts of the men in the sling gangbang scene still going at it, endlessly tireless. Jared picked up the sticky remote and switched off the power. Enough of that. The sex had been great, but tonight Jared knew only too well the meaning of the word satiated. Watching more porn right now would be about as exciting as surveying a buffet after consuming a six-course meal.
Jared knew he should change the sheets, take a shower, spritz a little Febreze in the room, but he was just too tired. Slowly, he did manage to stoop and pull the comforter from the floor and fling it over the soiled sheets. He pulled an extra blanket out of his closet. Lying atop the comforter with the blanket over him would be clean enough for tonight. Hell, he was so tired, he could probably drift off in the bathtub if he needed to. He smiled as he dropped his boxers to the floor, turned off his bedside floor lamp, and crawled into bed.
It took him only minutes to fall asleep.
THE ROOM goes dark as he paces the landing that runs along the back of his prey’s apartment. He turns his head to peer in one of the windows. His night vision is good, and he can easily make out the trappings of a kitchen, the appliances, a bowl of apples on the counter, dishes draining beside the sink.
How will he get inside?
If he cocks his head, ears upraised, and really listens, he can hear the sound of his prey snoring… the slow intake and pushing out of breath. If he sniffs near the bottom of the back door, he can even extract the smell of his prey among the other scents and odors trickling out underneath the wooden door. The smell of him is young, clean, and endlessly tantalizing.
He licks his chops.
He raises up on his hind legs to peer into another window, this one farther back and positioned high on the wall. Inside, his victim slumbers, cocooned in blankets and pillows. If he had the muscles for it, he would smile at the scene. It’s amusing to him that the young man inside, the young man to whom he plans to do grievous bodily harm as soon as he can figure out a way to get inside, sleeps so soundly and so innocently, unaware that mortal danger lurks only feet away. He backs and attempts to resume his stance on all fours. As he does so, he bumps a potted plant, which topples over, spilling dirt and dried leaves on the wooden surface of the porch.
The plant makes a dull thud. He
whimpers softly to himself, hoping no one has heard.
JARED AWAKENED with a start, flung from a deep, dreamless sleep with no transition into wakefulness, the landing harsh. Turning onto his back, he listened, alert for any unusual sound. He wasn’t aware of what could have awakened him, but his senses were in overdrive.
There’s something out there.
Jared curled into a small ball and pulled the blanket over his head, as he had once done as a child tormented by nightmares or the fear of the darkness inside a closet where the door had been left partially open. It got hot quickly under the blanket, but Jared was afraid to emerge. His heart thudded in his chest, blood pounded in his temples, and his stomach twisted with nauseous terror.
He had been waiting for this night. Something irrational and purely instinctual told him that the creature he had seen kill his one-night stand a month ago had now found him and was back to reclaim him, to make sure no witnesses existed. The thought sent an icy glissando of fear up and down his spine.
What was that? It sounded like a whimper.
Jared tried to tell himself he was imagining things. With all the resolve he had, he attempted to calm his racing thoughts by telling himself that any sounds he heard could easily be attributed to the wind outside, or the movements of a neighbor, or even yet another late-night Seattle drizzle just beginning.
But he knew the beast, with its black eyes, its black fur, and—worst of all—its fangs, was just outside, pacing along the landing that ran beside his kitchen and bedroom.
It had found him.
Do I just lie here and wait for it to crash through a window and take me? Do I make myself easy prey? In spite of his thudding heart and the sweat now making his hair wet and stinging his eyes, Jared forced himself to throw off the blanket and slowly sit up.
It was then he noticed his own two dogs, looking strange in the darkness. They both sat at the threshold of his bedroom, bodies alert, ears upraised. Both of them growled low, almost like a hum.
So Jared knew this wasn’t his imagination. His dogs heard it too. They were hyperaware. Jared forced himself to swing his legs over the edge of the bed. He trembled but managed to get to a standing position.
The window in his bedroom was a high rectangle near the ceiling. It afforded both light and privacy. But it was too high for Jared to see out of. With a churning in his gut that made him fear he would vomit, he forced himself to climb atop the dresser, where he knelt and peeked just above the windowsill. He feared one look outside would reveal a yellow-eyed, fanged beast from hell staring back at him.
It took a moment or two for Jared’s eyes to adjust to the darkness outside, but because of the full moon, a coat of silver blanketed the back landing.
And just as he feared, it was out there. He could make out its supine black form, stretched out at his back door. As Jared watched, he noticed the thing’s tongue loll out, dripping as it panted.
It was waiting.
Jared remained frozen, kneeling atop the dresser, unsure what to do.
Call the police? And tell them what?
Open the door and sic the dogs on it? And jeopardize their lives? No way.
Stay here, on top of the dresser, and hope the thing doesn’t try to get in by breaking down my door or bursting through a window? I don’t fancy being a sitting duck.
Jared thought that perhaps the dawn would chase the beast away, but how long away was that? He slowly rotated his head to look behind him, peering at the red numbers of his alarm clock in the darkened room. It was only three fifteen. The dawn—and morning light—was still hours away.
What with his terror and his cramped position atop the dresser, Jared felt his muscles growing stiff and achy. He backed silently off the dresser and lowered himself to the floor. His movement sent his own two dogs to pacing and whimpering. They knew something was just beyond their back door.
Jared stooped to find a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt among the heaps of clothing on the bedroom floor. Somehow being naked made him feel more vulnerable, even as his rational mind informed him that the clothes would offer little to no protection against powerful jaws and razor-sharp fangs. They had done nothing for poor Hector….
With the dogs at his heels, he crept silently to the back door. He didn’t know from where he was getting his courage, but he refused to simply allow himself to become a trembling target for this thing.
At the kitchen door, he pulled aside the curtain and looked outside once again. The dogs scratching and whining at the door’s wooden surface made the beast leap to its feet.
Jared couldn’t help it. He screamed. He backed away from the window, gibbering in terror, the capacity to form words lost to his horrified brain. The dogs went crazy at the door, leaping against it, scratching and barking, whining and howling.
A scent, like sour sweat, garlic, and overripe meat, seeped through the crack between the bottom of the door and the floor.
Worst of all, the thing stared at him through the glass.
Jared had now reached the wall opposite the kitchen door window and flattened himself against it. His crotch was wet and he wanted to scream, but he had no air left in his lungs to summon one. Or maybe the connection between his brain and vocal cords had been severed by the specter of this monster at his back door. Framed in silvery light, the creature truly looked like something that had escaped from hell. Its eyes blazed, and its mouth hung partially open in a whining snarl that revealed its yellowing—and lethal—fangs. It clawed at the glass, making a shrieking noise on the smooth surface.
FEAR. IT is like a drug to him. Watching his prey pinned against the wall, shaking and breathing hard, only ups his desire to be inside, to rip out his throat and taste the flesh and blood. The wide, terrified eyes would make him want to smile, were he in his human form. But he can only pant and stare, knowing his ferocious gaze ratchets up the horror in his victim.
He whines and scratches at the glass. He knows it will be easy to simply break it and leap into the lair of his prey. But it’s more exciting—more tantalizing—to watch the young man cower.
This is a moment to be savored.
He wishes he could let out one baleful howl or a vicious growl, but he needs to keep quiet. Once the glass is broken, he will have to feed quickly. The shattering will wake neighbors, who may alert the authorities.
And he must never, ever be captured.
That truth must not be revealed. He has far too much to lose.
But enough…. Food waits for him. Hot, terrified food….
JARED KNEW what it felt like to be utterly and completely paralyzed by terror. He couldn’t move if he wanted to. His mind was coherent enough to realize that if the beast crashed through his door at this very moment, he could do little more than mutely stand there and let it rip out his throat.
Finally Jared’s adrenaline kicked in enough to allow him to move away from the wall. Just in time too, because the monster outside broke his back window at that moment. The glass shattering sounded like an explosion.
Jared ran, dazed, fevered with fear, into the confines of his own tiny living room. The monster struggled in the kitchen, yelping as the broken glass cut its skin and grunting as Jared assumed it tried to wriggle its massive bulk through the small window.
Oh God, what do I do now? Jared eyed the phone. Putting aside considerations that anyone he would call, in whatever capacity, official or otherwise, would think he was insane, there was the simple truth that whoever might get here to save him could ever make it in time.
His dogs, their brave barking and yapping now replaced by their own terror, raced through the living room together. Jared watched them scurry into the bedroom and dive for cover in the closet. Jack, the pit bull mix, actually hooked a paw around the edge of the closet door to close it more. “Cowards,” he whimpered, wondering if he should join them.
He heard a thud and realized the thing had gotten inside.
It was panting, and the stink of it once again held Jared frozen in place
. But not for long. He turned slowly to grope along the wall, sidling against it until he reached his front door. He quickly and silently turned the deadbolt, then curled his hand around the knob and yanked.
The door opened a few inches… and stopped.
The chain! He had chained the door before falling into bed. With shaking hands he reached up to undo it. Then his hands froze on the chain, because at just that moment, the beast came into the living room. It simply stood there, staring at him. It seemed to be grinning. Jared locked gazes with it, thinking it exuded confidence.
It knows it can kill me easily. I am the sitting duck I feared becoming.
He searched the darkness in vain for his dogs, hoping futilely that they might come to his rescue, but they were nowhere in sight. He didn’t blame them. What chance would they have against this monstrous wolfen thing? Jared only hoped they would be able to get away from it, or that it would be satisfied with his blood and not want theirs too.
Jared didn’t know if he had the precious few seconds it would take to turn, undo the chain, and hurry out the door. Those movements would take more time than the beast would need to cross the room.
Wouldn’t they?
He had to try. The chain lock gave him a little trouble, even more when he heard the click of animal claws on hardwood, but he did manage to loose the chain, thinking all the while this was a game for the thing. Cat and mouse. A no-lose competition between hunter and hunted. The beast was probably enjoying his terror, his quaint human attempts to get the upper hand or at least get away.
His throat dry, he flung himself toward the door, yanked it open, and ran. He felt hot breath at his heels.
