Connie Bailey - Miles to Go

by Connie Bailey

  “Sure we can,” Novacelli said. “This is the last place anyone will look for us now.”

  “Can we at least go to another room or something?” Novacelli looked at Billy blankly for a long moment before comprehension sparked in his damp eyes. “Sure,” he said. “This is kinda gross, huh?”

  “Yeah… Gross,” Billy echoed. It wasn’t that he was the squeamish type; the copious gore, the flesh mutilated by high-speed projectiles didn’t make him flinch. It was the wide-open eyes staring sightlessly into oblivion that made him uneasy. The light had gone out of their gazes, and once snuffed, it could not be rekindled. The thought put far too much perspective on his chosen lifestyle.

  Novacelli took one of Billy’s handcuffed wrists and tugged gently. “Come on,” he said. “I’ll show you my room.” He took his captive up a short flight of stairs to what had once been an office above a row of lockable storage sheds inside the warehouse. It had a workbench along two walls overflowing with electronics in various stages of assembly. In one corner, makeshift shelves behind a stained mattress held a vast collection of triple X-rated paperbacks and glossy magazines. Aside from some large tool cabinets on wheels, the rest of the big space was virtually empty. “Do you like it?” Novacelli asked as he attached a chain to Billy’s cuffs.

  “It’s…interesting,” Billy said. Novacelli clipped the leash to a heavy-duty clamp that secured the exposed ductwork in the ceiling. He then released one of Billy’s hands from the cuffs. The chain was long enough to allow Billy to sit, or even lie down, without straining his arm, and he immediately did so. The drug dealer’s mouth watered when his obsession sank down onto the mattress. This was going so well, he could hardly believe it. The bullet-riddled bodies of his friends might as well not have existed for all the thought he gave them. There was only one thing on his mind. “So…. You remember what you said to me at the party?” Novacelli asked.

  Billy looked up in surprise. He couldn’t remember what he’d said to any of the Kutters when they’d visited Gareth.

  “At the party,” Novacelli continued. “You asked me to…you know.”

  “I’m sorry,” Billy said cautiously. “But I’ve forgotten what we talked about.”

  “That’s impossible.” A whiny note entered the other young man’s voice. “You gotta remember!” Billy swallowed hard and chose his words with care, aware that it would only take a single wrong one to set Novacelli off. “I told you I wanted to be with you,” he guessed.

  “Yesss!” Novacelli exulted. “I knew you didn’t forget. You were just teasing me. Since you don’t know me yet, you don’t know that I don’t like being teased.”

  “I promise I won’t tease you again,” Billy said with patent sincerity.

  “Okay. So do you want to do that thing you said you wanted to do to me?” “You know I do, Rafe,” Billy said, hoping whatever this lunatic fantasized about wasn’t too repellent. Billy had handled men that ran vast crime empires and ordered executions without blinking. Surely, he could placate this adolescent thug.

  “You’re so perfect,” Novacelli said, gesturing to the manacles. “Sorry about those.”

  Billy looked at the chain that tethered him to the wall. “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “I like handcuffs.”

  Novacelli’s eyes glowed like those of a Pekingese humping a favorite cushion. “I love you,” he said diffidently.

  “Of course you do,” Billy said. “It’s fate, isn’t it? Higher forces and all that?”

  “Yeah, that’s right. We’re destined to be together. It’s so cool that you get it.”

  “Of course I do,” Billy said wearily. “After all, I’m your soul mate, aren’t I?” Novacelli was wriggling like a puppy as he dropped to his knees beside the mattress, shrugging off his jacket. As it fell to the floor, he reached for Billy. Billy smiled as the maniac stroked his hair, inviting him closer.

  “Hang on a sec,” the drug dealer said as he sprang to his feet and walked quickly to the workbench. Billy tested the strength of the clamp and tried not to imagine what the nutcase was rummaging for. Novacelli was back in no time with a pair of heavy-duty shears. Billy’s eyes fastened on the big black and silver scissors in fascinated dread.

  “What are those for, Rafe?” he couldn’t help asking. “A little fetish of mine,” Novacelli said shyly.

  Billy’s heartbeat increased as Novacelli took down Billy’s pants to reveal a pair of red briefs. Unconsciously licking his lips, the kidnapper plucked a fold of the soft fabric between thumb and forefinger. Pulling the cloth up in a tent, he cut a circle in the undergarment. Reaching through the hole, he pulled out Billy’s balls and limp cock.

  “Perfect,” Novacelli said. “You’re even wearing my favorite color. Hold real still for a few minutes, okay? I wanna look at you.” Novacelli sat as though entranced, his eyes fixed on the tableau of Billy stretched out on his back with his genitals offered up like some exotic dessert. As Billy’s captor stared, a string of drool formed at the corner of his mouth and ran down to hang unheeded from his chin. Lying as still as possible, Billy tried to do nothing that would break Novacelli’s reverie. As long as the little creep kept his hands to himself, he was welcome to look all he wanted. With luck, he would still be in a trance when Gareth arrived; and that Gareth would arrive, Billy had no doubt. Gareth Carey would not tolerate anyone taking what belonged to him. He would descend upon this place like a Category 5 storm, wreaking devastation on everything in his path.

  Billy just had to stay alive until then.

  ~ Chapter Eleven ~

  GARETH went to the closet behind his desk and came back with two wickedly small automatic weapons. Tossing one to Rick, the crime boss stuffed the pockets of his seven-thousand-dollar suit with clips.

  “Do I get a toy?” Geordie asked.

  “You’re staying here,” Gareth said.

  “Why?” Geordie asked. “I should be the one going with you and…” “And nothing, you dozy cunt!” Gareth roared abruptly. “This is an utter cock-up and the only person that I know I can trust is you. You have to hold the fort and wait for Paul.”

  “Fair enough, old son,” Geordie said carefully. “I’ll stay here and be your eyes and ears while you go get some old-school revenge. I know how it feels to want to pull the trigger yourself. Don’t worry about things here; I’ll handle Paul.”

  “Don’t get too zealous,” Gareth said, in a normal voice.

  “I’ll get the truth out of him,” Geordie said grimly. Gareth smacked Rick on the back. “Ready, mate?”

  Rick turned his head to the side, audibly cracking his neck vertebrae. “Let’s go get Billy,” he said. He wasn’t eager to go back to the scene of the bloodbath, but the thought of Billy in the hands of Rafael Novacelli formed ice crystals in his gut. Hefting the Kalashnikov, Rick shot a glance at Geordie and followed Gareth from the room. As they got into Gareth’s car, it occurred to Rick that he hadn’t had a chance to check in with his partner in far too long.

  “What the flaming fuck are you waiting for?” Gareth barked. Rick slammed the Quattroporte into gear. The big V8 engine roared as he maneuvered the Maserati sedan down the brick drive. With a scream of rubber on asphalt, Rick braked briefly at the street and then punched the accelerator. He glanced once at Gareth’s pitiless profile, and kept his eyes on the road for the rest of the drive.

  BILLY steeled himself as Novacelli leaned over him. He could feel hot breath on his cock and then wetness as his captor licked at him. The former rent-boy suppressed a shudder as the creep tongued every inch of skin exposed by the ruined underwear.

  “You taste good,” Novacelli mumbled. “You smell real good, too.” “I love taking baths,” Billy replied, trying to suppress the nervous urge to babble and failing. “And I spend a lot of time in the pool. I guess I really like water. Weird, since I’m a fire sign. I should fear water, but I really love it.”

  “I could get you some,” Novacelli said instantly.

  “You’d do that for me?” Billy s
aid. “Thank you, Rafe. I’d love some water.”

  “Okay. I’ll be right back.”

  “I’ll be right here,” Billy said, rattling his chain and smiling to show he was kidding. Novacelli laughed, a high-pitched sound that did nothing for Billy’s nerves. As soon as his jailer left the room, Billy inspected the clamp his chain was clipped to. It was U-shaped to fit over the duct and fastened to a two-by-four with wood screws. All Billy needed was something thin enough to fit the screw heads and enough time, and he could free himself. Spotting the kidnapper’s jacket on the floor, Billy snagged it with his foot and dragged it onto the mattress. The garment had several pockets and each contained something that was no doubt precious to Rafe, but was no good to Billy. He stuffed a few of the items under the mattress, but he found nothing that would work on the screws.

  “What sort of electronics geek are you?” Billy muttered to himself. “Not even one teensy-weensy Phillips head screwdriver?” He lifted his head and froze at the sound of the warehouse door rolling up. “Please don’t let that be more of this psycho’s friends,” he prayed to whoever might be listening to sinners like him.

  RICK saw Novacelli come out of the door of the warehouse office right in front of him at the same time that Gareth entered the hallway from the other end. There was no way the undercover cop could take a shot without risking Carey’s safety. As he hesitated, he was sprayed with water when Gareth fired, exploding the plastic bottle in the drug dealer’s hand. Rick dropped to the ground as Novacelli returned fire. The gun barked again in Gareth’s hand, but the Kutter had thrown himself backward into the office. A second later, a burst of gunfire came out of the doorway.

  “Shit,” Rick muttered. “Hey, Gareth! You could’ve killed me, you asshole!”

  “Sorry, mate. Saw the shot and took it,” Gareth called back. “What do you reckon that little ratbag’s thinking right about now, eh?” “I wish I had a change of underwear?” Rick guessed. Gareth laughed, a bubbly sound that raised the hair on Rick’s nape.

  “You were supposed to wait by the back door ’til I scouted the place,” Rick reminded his boss. “Now do you see why?”

  “Fuck it!” Gareth said. “Let’s get him.” Rick sighed. “Novacelli!” he shouted. “We’ve got AKs. If you don’t come out of there, we’re going to shred that cracker box you’re hiding in.” There was no answer and Rick had a very strong, very bad feeling. “Get the fuck down,” he screamed at Gareth as he dove for the nearest cover. A split second later, an explosion lit the interior of the office like a lightning strike and a tongue of flame shot out to blacken the opposite wall. Debris rained down, pattering on the threadbare carpet, as dark smoke began to pour from the ruined doorway. “Gareth?” Rick called. He heard coughing and then Gareth came toward him through the roiling smoke. Grabbing Rick’s arm, the big man pulled him to his feet. Rick realized his hearing was impaired when Gareth’s lips moved soundlessly. “Can’t hear,” Rick yelled over the ringing in his head.

  Gareth nodded his understanding.

  “We should be a little more careful,” Rick said. “Novacelli could be driving us into a trap.” Gareth nodded again and slowed his pace. When they reached the open space of the storage area, Carey took off his jacket and waved it around the corner. When nothing happened, he beckoned to Rick, putting his hand on the side of the other man’s neck. Looking into Rick’s face, Gareth spoke slowly so Rick could read his lips. “Thanks for the warning back there.”

  Gareth’s voice was muffled, but Rick’s hearing was returning quickly. Glad the damage wasn’t permanent, he answered. “Just doing my job, boss.”

  Gareth grinned as he slapped Rick’s cheek. “Since that didn’t work out so well,” he said, “why don’t we do it your way this time?” “I like the way you think,” Rick said. “I’ll take these stairs; you check around down here. You want me to go over it again?” Gareth’s eyes glowed with adrenaline-fueled energy. “I think I got it,” he said as he moved stealthily away along the wall. “Happy hunting.”

  “I GOTTA get outta here. I gotta get outta here,” Novacelli chanted as

  he tore around his room grabbing random objects. Abruptly, the lunatic stopped and turned to stare at his prisoner. “What am I gonna do with you?” he said.

  RICK risked a look into the room before melting back against the wall. Squeezing his eyes shut, he cleared his mind and then looked through the doorway again. Novacelli was still standing over the bed with a gun in one hand and a fistful of Billy’s hair in the other. Billy was handcuffed and leashed with no hope of escaping the bullet. Ruthlessly stamping on his flaring emotions, Rick made a decision.

  Without shouting a warning, the undercover cop swung his gun through the opening and fired. Novacelli yowled in pain as the largecaliber bullet punched a ragged hole in his hand. The Kutter’s gun thudded onto the mattress beside Billy’s shoulder as Rick took aim again. Novacelli dove for his workbench, but the round came nowhere near him. Instead, Rick’s shot severed the chain that kept Billy tethered. The cop hit the ground and rolled behind a tall tool cabinet, as Billy twisted and dropped between the bed and the wall. Novacelli was out of sight now, but he could be tracked by the noise he made as he scuttled along the littered floor.

  “Rafael Novacelli!” Rick called out. “Give it up, punk. You’ve lost your weapon and you have a bad gunshot wound. Come on out here, and I’ll get you an ambulance.”

  “Billy!” Novacelli cried out.

  “What is it, Rafe?” Billy answered, and Rick grimaced as the kid gave away his position. “I thought you were gone,” Novacelli said in patently relieved tones. “Man, I thought things were really messed up for a minute there. Just let me find my other guns and I’ll get rid of this asshole so we can be alone again. Where the fuck is that Eagle? I know I set it down here somewhere.”

  Rick pushed the wheeled metal cabinet over to the pile of mattresses where Billy lay flat on the floor, fastening his trousers. The young man looked up at Rick and tried for a nonchalant smile.

  “You weren’t here in thirty minutes,” he said. “I’m not paying for the pizza.” Rick’s heart clenched. This was one brave kid. If they got out of this dilemma alive, Rick was going to make a point of getting to know Billy Red, or Rose, or Willem Rosen, or whatever the hell he wanted to call himself. If this beautiful wreckage was salvageable, Rick was willing to undertake the project.

  “Then I guess a tip is out of the question,” the cop said, holding out his hand.

  Billy crawled to Rick and crouched behind the tool cabinet with him. “Where’s Gareth?” he asked.

  Rick was shocked by how much the question stung. “He’s around,” he answered. “You ready to get out of here?”

  Billy nodded and the tool cabinet began rolling back toward the door.

  “Billy?” Novacelli called. “Where are you? I need help finding a gun.”

  Rick glanced at Billy, who rolled his eyes.

  “Completely ’round the bend,” Billy said. “Mad as they come. Thanks for coming to get me, by the way.”

  “It’s why I get the big bucks,” Rick said.

  “Billy!” Novacelli said plaintively. “Why are you hiding from me?”

  “When I say run, you get out the door and don’t look back,” Rick told Billy. “Take this phone. The first number is my partner.” “Why don’t you call for backup now?”

  “That’s an awfully good question,” Rick said.

  “Oh God,” Billy said. “You’re not supposed to be here, are you?”

  “No, he’s not,” Novacelli said from far too close. “But I’m gonna fix that right now.”

  ~ Chapter Twelve ~

  “DROP your gun,” Novacelli said.

  Rick and Billy turned and looked up into the barrel of a policeissued revolver. Rick didn’t bother asking how Novacelli had acquired the thirty-eight. He put his own weapon on the floor and slid it forward.

  “How the hell did you get behind us?” Rick wanted to know. “I could hear you on
the other side of the room.”

  “I learned to throw my voice when I was a kid,” Novacelli said. “My mom didn’t like it one bit. It really freaked her out.”

  “You’re so clever!” Billy exclaimed brightly as he rose to his feet. “But what took you so long to rescue me?”

  Novacelli frowned in perplexity. “You were going to go with him,” he said.

  “Well, of course I had to pretend I wanted to go,” Billy said. “You were pretending?” Novacelli asked slowly.

  “Of course.” Billy’s eyes were luminous with innocence. “Have you forgotten that we’re soul mates, Rafe?”

  Novacelli shook his head. “I didn’t forget. Come over here by me.” Billy did as he was told, looking neutrally down at Rick. Rick didn’t blame the kid for seeing the angle and playing it. It was the smart move. However, Billy ruined it when Novacelli aimed his gun at Rick’s forehead.

  “I’m not telling you what to do,” Billy said. “But do you really want to kill a cop? That’s right; he’s a cop, and you know how cops are, Rafe. Kill a citizen and they’ll come after you. Kill one of their own and they’ll hound you to the ends of the earth and nail you into your coffin facedown. And then they’ll kill you.”

  “But I need to kill him,” the Kutter said sullenly. Billy put a hand on Novacelli’s cheek and turned the psycho’s head toward him. “Look at me, Rafe,” he said, his voice taking on a seductive purr. “You don’t need to kill this man. Let’s tie him up and get out of here. Let’s go someplace nice where we can be alone together.”

  “I don’t know,” Novacelli said. “I don’t know what to do. My hand hurts so bad I can’t think right.” “You’d never kill a cop,” Billy said. “You’re too smart. You’re smarter than all of them and I know it. And you know something else? There’s nothing sexier than intelligence.”

  “You think I’m sexy?” Novacelli’s eyes were locked on Billy’s earnest face.