Wednesday Briefs #20 Diventando Becoming

 

Copyright 2014 JC Wallace

Welcome to another installment of Diventando: Becoming. Each week a group of authors participate weekly in Wednesday Briefs Flash Fiction. Each installment is 500-1000 words long and are posted to our blogs each week. After you read the latest in my story, click on the link at the end to visit other flashers. 

If you are new to Diventando: Becoming and haven’t read the previous chapters, click on Wednesday Briefs in the left hand column and start with #1. Enjoy and leave a comment to let me know what you think.

 

Turk’s lips were soft and deliciously warm, and a shudder bulleted through Owen, curling his toes. When the lips against his remained rigid, though, Owen felt his dread return. He wondered, again, if he’d  just imagined Turk’s gentle touches and whispered promises. He was certain that Turk didn’t see Owen; he saw a monster, evil incarnate, something to be killed, destroyed. Even if Turk didn’t kill Owen, that blatant truth would.

Owen tried to pull away, shame raising hot patches on his cheeks, when fingertips suddenly caressed his neck. Time ceased as Turk’s lips slowly gained momentum, and then parted, allowing Owen’s tongue to thrust into his mouth. A groan vibrated the lips against Owen’s and he tried to lift up for more contact with Turk’s body, however, he was only able to lift his shoulders a few inches from the bed. Owen growled as he struggled. Turk’s arms snaked under Owen’s shoulders and pulled him to his chest. The kiss rendered Owen even more boneless than the drugs coursing through him. Shit. He couldn’t do this. Even though he didn’t feel the demon stirring, the danger was still there.

Owen slowly ended the kiss and then laid his cheek on Turk’s shoulder. He closed his eyes and whispered, “You came.” With those words, Turk’s arms banded tighter and Owen had never felt anything so wonderful and safe.

Owen opened his eyes to see Wayne hovering nearby, shifting nervously, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans. The man was all kinds of tortured over what had happened to Owen, and that made Owen feel like crap. He reached a hand out, motioning Wayne to him.

Wayne stepped forward and forced a smirk. “You look like shit, cuz.” The tremor in his voice and the sorrow in his gaze, belied his humor. He’d suffered ever since Owen disappeared—the bags under his eyes and his pale skin were evidence of that.

Owen grasped Wayne’s shirt with a weak fist, and tugged him closer. Wayne bent down and rested his forehead against Owen’s, releasing a shaky breath. The man was as close as a brother to Owen.

“Fuck, Owen...” He closed his eyes.

“I’m okay,” Owen lied. “It’s going to be okay.”

Turk let out a choked sound, somewhere between a sob and a cough. Yeah, nothing was okay.

Wayne pecked Owen on the forehead and stepped back, his face a stoic mask. Turk nuzzled Owen’s neck and it was all Owen could do to stop the whimper caught in his throat.

“Hate to break up the love fest but we’re on a timeline here.” The vehemence in Wayne’s voice caught Owen by surprise.

With one last squeeze, Turk gently settled Owen back onto the mattress. Turk ducked his head but not quickly enough. Owen saw the tears rimming his eyes. And in a sadistic moment, those tears thrilled Owen. Turk gave a shit.

Turk turned away and Owen allowed him a moment to collect himself, which gave him time to doubt their rescue.

“I can’t leave here,” Owen said, pushing his voice out into the room. Wayne immediately tensed but this had to be said. “I have a demon inside of me and this...” Owen raised his arm with the IV attached. “This is the only thing keeping him quiet.”

Turk turned back, his face devoid of the emotions that previously wrought havoc on his face. “Like I said, we’ve got a plan.”

With that Turk bent and lifted a black duffle bag and dropped it onto the bed. Opening the bag, he pulled out black sweats, a T-shirt, fleece jacket, and socks and shoes. Owen recognized his clothes and had never been so grateful to have them.

“Let’s get you changed.”

Owen allowed Turk to help take off his gown. Owen’s pasty skin blushed a pale pink from his nudity and his partially hard cock. Turk focused hard on the task of dressing Owen, although Owen noticed his eyes wandered surreptitiously several times to over Owen’s body.

Wayne pulled out his texting someone. When he was done, he said, “We are a go in five minutes.”

Owen frowned as Turk finished tying his sneakers. He was helpless even to dress himself. And he was supposed to just walk out of there? What about the guards? The locked doors?

“Just how are we going to get out of here?” The entire operation seemed impossible.

Turk lowered the side rail and helped Owen swing his legs over the side of the bed.

“We’re walking out,” Turk said matter-of-factly.

Owen raised his brows and looked at Wayne who wasn’t looking back. He nodded and glared at Turk with the intensity of a man wanting beat the shit out of someone. Damn, he was totally pissed at Turk. Owen couldn’t blame him. Turk was a close friend who had no doubt lied to Wayne. Repeatedly.

“I can’t walk,” Owen reminded them.

Turk bent down and encouraged Owen to wrap his arms around his neck. With an arm supporting Owen’s back and another under his knees, Turk lifted Owen effortlessly from the bed, cradling him against his chest.

“I’m gonna carry you. Now reach up and unhook the IV bag and let’s get out of here.”

Owen stared at Turk for a moment then snapped out of his doubts and unhooked the bag.

Turning to Wayne, Turk gave him a nod. Wayne tapped at his phone screen and then Owen heard a dial tone through the speakerphone. “You ready Wayne?” a deep voice asked.

“We got him and we’re ready to move out when you are, buddy,” Wayne replied.

“Drew?” Owen asked.

Owen could hear Drew tapping on his keyboard. “Hey, Owen. Good to hear your voice. I’ll have you out of there in a minute...By the way, where’s my fucking line code?”

Owen smiled. “Up my ass, Crawford. Care to go in and get it?”

“Fuck, no,” Drew replied, and then there was a pause. “Okay, I’ve downloaded a continuous loop on the cameras covering the planned route. You probably have eight minutes before the system recognizes my meddling and sends out the alerts. Doors are now...unlocked. Get your asses moving. Keep me on the line and I’ll monitor the system.”

“Got it,” Wayne said and pulled open the door to the room. After peering around the hall, he signaled for them to move. In Turk’s arms, Owen struggled with the need to be carried like a weakling and feeling safer than he’d ever felt. Through Turk’s black jacket the heat penetrated Owen’s body, warming the bitter internal chill. The subdued light in the hall deepened the brown of Turk’s skin. With his head on Turk’s shoulder Owen could see the tight clench of his jaw and his Adam’s apple bobbing repeatedly as if he were swallowing down fear. Owen couldn’t believe that Turk feared anything.

“Where is everyone?” Owen asked only loud enough for Turk to hear.

“It’s around three a.m. Night crew is on. They’re monitoring in the control room.”

Three a.m. He’d gone so long without knowing the time of day had become so foreign to Owen. Then he asked the question he wasn’t sure he wanted the answer to. “How long have I been here?”

Wayne looked back at Turk upon hearing those words. The scowl, the anger flaring in his eyes, told Owen that Wayne was only playing nice until they were out of danger.

Turk licked at his lips. “Fifteen days.”

Owen flinched at the number. Fifteen days. Hell, it hadn’t seemed that long, and somehow seemed longer all at once. His eyes met Wayne’s and his cousin’s apology to Owen was conveyed without words. None of this was Wayne’s fault, yet he was taking blame.

“We can talk later. We gotta go,” Turk said. His low voice rumbled in his chest and filled Owen’s body, soothing his frazzled nerves.

Wayne opened the door before him and Turk told Wayne to go right and then left and then another left and Owen wondered how Turk remembered the way since each hallway was nondescript.

“Two minutes,” Owen heard Drew’s disembodied voice announce.

“Just two more doors,” Turk said, tightening his grip on Owen.

Wayne pushed open the door and they were in a short hallway with cement stairs to the left, which ended at a white steel door. Owen tensed with the realization they were actually going to get out. As they neared the stairs, Wayne froze in front of them, his eyes trained to the right. Looking over, Owen gasped as he spied two men in an embrace, sucking face, hands roaming in desperation.

They both startled hearing Owen, and pulled apart. Malcom and Wes stared back at them, their lips red from the intensity of their kisses. Owen’s grip tightened around Turk’s neck but Turk practically dropped Owen who had to try and stand, grappling for the wall. Malcolm rushed toward a panel with several buttons on it next to the door and smacked his hand against a red button. An ear piercing alarm filled the air.

“Fuck!” Turk yelled and went after Malcolm, yanking him back. Malcom turned and rushed Turk with fists flying. Wes, who stared with terror-filled eyes at Owen, crouched in the corner while Wayne hovered over him. Owen clutched the IV bag to his chest watching his hope for freedom being crushed.

Check out the other flashers this week at httbp://wedbriefsfic.com/ or click on the flashers below:

Jon Keys
A.R. Von
Grace Duncan
Sarah Hayes
MA Church
Chris T. Kat
Tali Spencer
Victoria Adams
Cia Nordwell
Nephylim
Rob Colton
Elyzabeth VaLey 
Lily Velden
Raine O’Tierney
Michael Mandrake
Andrew Q. Gordon
Julie Lynn Hayes