by Ellis, Kay
Neither of us were about to turn down a free feed, so we stayed. If it had been the barman, Darren, doing the cooking I might have thought twice about it, because I didn’t trust the little shit not to spit in our food. It turned out though, that Keane had a wife hidden away in the kitchen who came out to take our order and took an instant shine to Rufus. A bit of motherly attention seemed to perk him up a bit and drag him out of the funk he’d been in since the morons at the bar upset him.
I had to admit, the food was good. Both of us cleared our plates and then leaned back in our chairs, rubbing our full stomachs with satisfaction. A few more customers wandered in while we were eating. I got the impression they were tourists rather than locals. Keane was welcoming and friendly, but he didn’t seem to know them. Keane served them before coming back to our table to ask if our meals had been okay.
The more cynical side of my nature might be inclined to think the man was doing everything he could to keep us from bad mouthing his business his business all over the internet. Deep down though, I knew he was basically a decent guy who was genuinely trying to make up for the way his barman’s idiot friends had treated Rufus.
“So what are you boys up to tonight?” he asked while he cleared our empty plates. “Have you got a hot date planned?”
“Oh, fuck no!” Rufus and I said, both simultaneously and emphatically.
Keane looked at us, puzzled. “I’m sorry. I assumed you were together.”
“Not even if he was the last man on Earth,” Rufus said indignantly.
I wasn’t offended. How could I be when I agreed with him whole heartedly? There wasn’t enough alcohol in the world to make me want to go there with Rufus.
“We’re searching for my boyfriend,” I explained. “He disappeared a few days ago, we think against his will. Rufus here is his best friend.”
“I see. Well, I’m sorry to hear about your young man. I hope you find him.”
“We’re not having much luck so far,” I admitted with a heartfelt sigh. “And we must have driven round every hotel and caravan park for miles.”
“Caravan parks, you say?” Keane looked over to where the barman’s friends sat nursing their beers. “Jason, come over here for a minute.”
One of the guys, thankfully not the one who had verbally abused Rufus, walked across to the table, reluctance written all over his face. They might have backed off at Keane’s say so, but it was obvious he didn’t want to anywhere near me and Rufus, especially with his mates watching. I was tempted to tell him that the gay wasn’t catching, but I didn’t. I was more interested in hearing why Keane had called him over.
“Jason, is there anyone staying in your vans at the moment?”
“A couple of people, yeah.”
“Jason’s family own a farm,” Keane told me and Rufus by way of explanation. “They have half a dozen caravans that they rent out, mainly to migrant workers. It’s not exactly a holiday park, but you never know.”
“It sounds like a bit of a long shot, Alex,” Rufus said doubtfully.
“Yeah, I know.” I looked up at Jason. “I don’t suppose any of your guests happen to drive an old Ford Escort.”
He thought for a moment and then nodded.
“Yeah, there’s an older guy with a blue Escort. Bit of a weirdo, if you ask me. Wears a baseball cap and sunglasses, even when it’s not sunny. We all think he’s on the run or something, but he pays his rent on time so we don’t ask questions.”
I looked at Rufus. He stared back, his perfectly plucked eyebrows raised in disbelief. It couldn’t be that easy. Had we really done in twenty-four hours what the police had so far failed to do within the space of a week? Had we found Stef’s old man? And, more importantly – if we had – was Stef with him?
21
“We should call Killigan.”
We raced along the country lanes, following the directions Jason had given us to get to his family farm. I’d persuaded him not to call ahead and tell his family that we were on our way. If Stefan really was there, I didn’t want anyone warning his old man before we got there.
“Not yet,” I said. “Let’s make sure it’s them before we call anyone.”
“But what if he sees us coming?”
Rufus was pale and nervous. Not that I blamed him. He wasn’t exactly cut out for the darker side of life. In his world, breaking a nail was a major drama, so I doubted he would be able to cope with a real life or death situation. He obviously couldn’t fight or protect himself, which made me wonder what use he would actually be once we reached the farm.
“What if he gets away?” Rufus continued. “What if he takes Stefan? Or does something to hurt him? What if…?”
“Enough, Rufus!” I snapped. Okay, he was anxious. I got it, but he was seriously getting on my last nerve. “I won’t let that happen.”
“How can you stop him?” Rufus persisted. “You promised Stefan you wouldn’t hurt his old man.”
“Fine. You do it then.”
Yeah, right. I think we both knew that wasn’t about to happen. Rufus slumped back in his seat and stared out of the window. We were almost there, just one more mile between us and the very real chance we had of finding Stefan.
“I think you should break your promise.”
“What?” I looked at him in surprise. “Why would you say that?”
“Because if anyone deserves a beating around here, it’s Stefan’s dad. And, yes, I know you don’t want to be that person anymore, but maybe on this occasion, you need to be. Don’t be the man Stefan wants you to be, Alex. Be the man he needs you to be.” He twisted in his seat to face me, his expression deadly serious. “Bring back big bad Alex Gill. We kind of need him.”
If only it was that easy. It wasn’t that I had any problem bringing the old Alex out to play. What troubled me was whether or not I could make him go away again when this was over.
I drove past the entrance to the farm and pulled into a lay-by about another half a mile further on. It meant climbing a wooden fence and making our way back across a muddy field, but from what I could tell it should bring us up behind the caravans without being seen. It wasn’t until I had one leg over the top of the fence that I realised Rufus had not followed me. Exasperated, I climbed off the fence again and went back to the car.
“Problem?”
“I’m… I’m not very good at stuff like this. I’ll only get in the way. Maybe… maybe it would be better if I stayed here.”
“I need you,” I said flatly – and fuck knows that was not a sentence I ever imagined saying to Rufus. “Stef will need you. If I have to fight his old man, you’ll have to take care of Stef and get him out of there.”
“We don’t even know it’s them,” Rufus countered, but he got out of the car. That was a start.
“Yes, we do,” I pressed gently, because I knew what Rufus was like and if I pushed too hard he’d dig his heels in and refuse to come with me. “In your heart, Rufus… you know this is it. You know we’ve found him.”
“Then let me call Killigan,” he said. “If you’re so sure Stefan is here, why won’t you let me call the police.”
Because I want to the one to save him. I didn’t say that though. Instead, I shrugged. We were way out in the middle of nowhere. By the time the cops got their arses into gear and showed up the fun part would be over.
“Fine. Call him, but hurry the fuck up.”
Rufus made the call. I hovered impatiently, and guessed from Rufus’s side of the conversation how well Killigan had reacted to the news: not to the possibility of having found Stef, but that we were going to make our own rescue attempt. Rufus hung up.
“Killigan said to wait.”
“For what? Christmas?”
“For the experts, obviously.” Rufus rolled his eyes.
“Right, would that be the same experts who haven’t come up with anything in a whole week? We found Stef, not them.” For the second time, I climbed the fence and sat astride it looking down at Rufus. “I’m not
waiting. I’m going. Now. I’m asking you to come with me, but if you haven’t got the balls…”
Another, even more dramatic eye-roll. “Don’t be ridiculous,” Rufus snorted. “You know damn well I haven’t.”
He picked his way gingerly up the embankment and scaled the fence with difficulty given that he was actually trying not to touch the thing; probably afraid he’d get a splinter or chip a nail or something. I smirked at him and he scowled.
“Do you see something that amuses you?” he asked haughtily.
“Yeah, you. You’re so… gay.”
“Right back at you, big man.” He dropped down on the other side of the fence, pulling a face when the mud squelched wetly beneath his feet.
Shaking my head, I turned away and began trudging my way across the field. There was a row of sturdy looking trees between us and the smaller field where Jason had said the caravans were situated. If I couldn’t see the caravans between the trunks, I had to trust that meant anybody in those caravans couldn’t see us coming either.
There was a squeak from behind and I looked back over my shoulder to see Rufus hopping on one foot, while one of his flimsy – but very stylish – trainers was stuck firmly in the mud.
“It’s not funny!” Rufus complained when I ploughed my way back to him. “I told you I couldn’t do this!”
I plucked his shoe from the mud and let him use for support while he pulled it back on. He was right, of course. He had warned me. I guess I hadn’t really believed how absolutely useless he was at just about everything. But he was there, even though he clearly didn’t want to be. I had to give him respect for that, and seeing he was close to tears, I actually felt a little bit sorry for him.
“You want a piggy-back?”
“Oh, and now you’re teasing me,” Rufus sniffled, rubbing a hand across his wet eyes. “I mean, seriously… can this day get any worse?”
It could, I thought. We could reach the caravans and find out that Stef was not there. We could get there too late and discover they’d left just minutes before. Or, worse still, we could find Stef seriously hurt. Maybe even dead. So, yeah… things could definitely get worse than getting a bit of mud on his designer jeans. I didn’t say any of that though. The thought of finding Stef’s body was hardly inductive to keeping Rufus moving forward.
“I’m not teasing,” I said. “Now isn’t the time for tiptoeing daintily though, Rufus. We need to get this done. So, come on…” I turned my back to him and stooped slightly. “Your chariot awaits.”
Still, he hesitated, but just when I thought he would flat out refuse to do it, he clambered awkwardly onto my back. I hooked my arms under his legs to secure him and, reluctantly, he wrapped his arms around my neck.
“Ready?”
“Yes,” he answered quietly.
I plodded on. The mud sucked greedily at my boots, but carrying Rufus didn’t actually slow me down much. Like Stef, he weighed next to nothing, so he wasn’t exactly a burden. In no time at all we reached the tree line and firmer ground where I could set him down. He looked away, embarrassed, but then I suppose neither of us ever imagined a situation where he’d have his legs wrapped around my waist.
“Sorry,” he murmured. “I’m pathetic, I know.”
“You’re not pathetic,” I said patiently, even though he kind of was. Maybe taking him with me was a mistake. When the shit went down, I didn’t need to be worrying about him on top of everything else. “Look, you can stay here if you want. You’ll be safe out of here.”
“No.” He tilted his chin with a defiance that didn’t quite cancel out the fear in his eyes. “No, I’m coming with you. You need me, remember? I have to look after Stefan.”
I pushed my way through the trees with Rufus hot on my heels, so close I could practically hear the frantic hammering of his heart. Or was that my heart, racing so fast I felt sure it was about to burst right out of my chest? Okay, so obviously we were both as nervous as Hell. Rufus, because he was a little, femme scaredy-cat and me because I’d been completely and utterly tamed by Stef over the past couple of years. These days, I was out of practice when it came to macho bullshit.
“What now?” Rufus asked in a low voice. “We can’t go knocking on every door.”
“First of all,” I said, “why are you whispering? We’re not close enough for anyone to hear us talking. Second of all, I wasn’t exactly planning on knocking on the door and introducing myself. And third of all, I don’t have to anyway, because that’s Stef’s dad’s car on the end there.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure. It’s still got the dent in the door where I punched it.”
“You punched a car? Seriously?”
“Not one of my finer moments, but now’s not the time to discuss it, Rufus.” I looked at him. “You ready for this?”
“No.” Rufus took a deep breath and pulled himself up to his full height. Which wasn’t saying much. “I still think we should wait for Killigan, but you’re not going to do that, are you?”
“Can’t.” I shook my head. “If he’s in there…”
Creeping along the edge of the trees, we carefully edged our way towards the last caravan in the row. The whole place was silent as the grave. There were no signs of life in the caravan, but the car was there so someone had to be home. The curtains at the rear window were part-way closed. We snuck over, and carefully peered inside. At least, I did. Rufus wasn’t tall enough, which I might have found amusing at any other time. As it was, any thoughts of Rufus went right out of my head when I saw the figure curled up on the bed inside the van.
Stef lay on his side, motionless. His eyes were closed, his face pale and his long blond hair greasy and matted. God, how he would hate that if he was aware enough to realise it. His wrists and ankles were tied with plastic cable ties, and he had purple bruise on his cheek, making me wonder if he’d fought back. I hoped he had; that I’d taught him something in our time together and he hadn’t gone down without a fight.
“Is he in there?” Rufus asked impatiently, tugging on my arm.
“Yeah, he’s there. He doesn’t look too good.”
“Is he… is he alive?”
“I think so. He’s not moving, but I think he’s breathing.”
“So what now? We can’t wait for Killigan, not if Stefan’s hurt.”
Well, he’d changed his tune, but at least now we were singing from the same song sheet.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “Doesn’t look like there’s much room in there if it comes to a fight. We might make things worse if he gets to Stef before we do.”
“Maybe we could lure him outside somehow,” Rufus said thoughtfully. “I can get him to open the door and you just have to be ready to grab him.”
I looked at Rufus with a newfound respect. Knowing the way things were between us, it probably wouldn’t last, but he was stepping up when it counted. He certainly had a bigger set of balls on him than I would have ever given him credit for. I nodded.
“Come on.”
Crouching low, I crept along the side of the caravan to the door. I flattened myself to the fibreglass panelling, hoping I wouldn’t be seen straight away when Stef’s old man opened the door. Rufus walked up to the caravan and knocked loudly.
“What do you want?”
Damn it. The guy didn’t open up, just shouted through the closed door. Surprisingly, Rufus surprised me again though, by keeping his cool.
“I’m Rupert Jennings,” he said, completely straight-faced. “My father sent me down to collect the rent.”
“Screw you! I paid up for the month already.”
“Are you sure? That’s not what it says in the book.”
There was a pause. “What book?”
“The payment ledger. It’s says right here that your next payment is due.”
“That’s bullshit.” There was the click of a lock and then the door swung open. “If you’re trying to rip me off, I’ll –”
I moved fast, reaching
up and grabbing him by the front of his shirt. He cried out, startled, as I yanked him bodily from the step of the van. Quick as a flash, Rufus dived into the caravan and slammed the door behind him. I heard the lock click into place and took a second to appreciate Rufus’ quick thinking before I turned my attention back to Stef’s old man who was currently trying to wriggle his way out of my grasp.
“I know who you are,” he spat furiously. “You touch me and you’ll end up inside.”
“And you’ll be right there with me, for kidnapping your own son, you twisted fuck.”
“No, they’ll understand why I did it. I’m just doing what any decent parent would do and trying to my child from an abusive relationship.”
“You’re the one who’s been abusing him. Not me.”
“Yeah, but who’s going to believe that? You’ve got a reputation for violence.” He sneered up at me, his confidence beginning to make me doubt myself.
“You’re the one who threw him down the stairs when he was a kid.”
“I’m reformed,” he said with a smirk. “But you… you’ll always be a violent thug. And when they see what you’ve done to me, they’ll all know it. Even Stefan.”
I knew then what I had to do to end this. I still didn’t understand what his end game was, or what he thought he’d achieve by getting me locked up. It seemed ridiculous to me, the lengths he’d gone to just to make me and Stef suffer, but I wasn’t going to let him win. I was better than that. Better than him. Not that it meant I was going to let him go. I pushed him up against the side of car and pinned him there. His eyes gleamed in satisfaction. He thought this was it. The moment I proved him right.
“I’m not going to hit you,” I said. “But the police are on their way and you’re going nowhere, mate.”
He started to struggle in earnest then, but it was too little too late. I could hear the sound of sirens getting closer. The cavalry had arrived and the nightmare was almost over.
22
They tried to arrest me as well. Of course they did. When they turned up and saw a human brick-wall pinning an older skinny guy to a car by the throat, they were naturally going to assume he was the aggressor. Despite my desperation to find Stef, I didn’t resist. No way was I getting my arse hauled off to the cop shop without seeing for myself that he was okay. Not for the first time, Killigan came to my rescue. He strode across the grass, yelling at them to let me go, and thankfully they listened even though Killigan had no authority over them.
