Page 7 of Cuddles for the Bear
He’s in the casino. Probably looking for a date for the night.
Devon couldn’t see Michael, but he could hear him every now and then above the sound of machines and people having a good time. The man came with an inbuilt megaphone.
The agency has been doing some serious digging, and while they haven’t pinpointed how Michael made his last deal, they have seen feelers he’s put out on some dodgy forums, looking for his next buy. The asshole snake will approach you in about five minutes. He thinks you have contacts for that next buy. Hear him out, and if you can, find a way to check on his current boy.
He’ll know if I’m lying!!!!!!
Then don’t lie. Be non-committal, and if he gets pushy, remind him of time and place. Four minutes and counting.
Devon glared at his phone before swiping away the message thread.I’m going to get some itching powder and make sure I cover Cyrus’s boxers with it the next time I see them flapping on the washing line.
He wasn’t usually so agitated. In fact, his friends all saw him as the quiet and calm type. But the constant waiting, combined with the incessant worry about his friend, was driving Devon into reckless territory. By the time Michael hovered by his table, his face flushed and his bottle half empty, Devon didn’t have to feign a lack of interest. He wasn’t the type to entertain the people on his hit list like Python had been known to do.
“Mr. Taylor?” Michael’s tone reflected caution with a spot of anticipation.
“Who’s asking?” Devon had to work to keep his tone neutral. The urge to jump up and grab the man by his shirt collar and demand to know where he could find BlueKnight64 was bordering on obsessive territory.
“I’m Michael…Michael Wheeler. I believe you were told about me?”
That’s one way of putting it.Devon nodded to the seat across from him. “Have a seat, Wheeler. Tell me how you think I can help you.”
Chapter Six
Michael had been gone for hours by the time Wren was finished. He sat back on his heels, his knees digging into the floor, as he looked at the sorry state of the toothbrush he’d been scrubbing it with, and then around the room he’d slept in for so many years.
The bed and mattress were put back the way they had been before, the sheets all neatly tucked back in, and not a wrinkle showing on the single blanket covering them. His clothes had all been folded meticulously and put back in the drawers. Every inch of the walls, ceiling, and floor was now cleaned.
Wren tossed the toothbrush into the bucket. His weariness had reached the point of exhaustion. He swayed on his heels, barely able to stay upright. His heart was empty, his head filled with the impending beating he knew he’d get when Michael came home.
This is all there is.Four walls of hell and a window.Wren snorted. Yes, the room had a window. The living space had two of them, the kitchen space had a small one, and there was even a tiny window in the bathroom.
Every single one of those windows had a camera on it.
Every single window was alarmed so that Michael would know the moment one was tampered with. He would know if Wren tried to escape that way. Wren learned that when he was fifteen.
But watching now, as the red light kept blinking, an indication that the camera was tracking his every move, Wren was too tired to care. Pushing himself to his feet, Wren rubbed his knees. They were bruised and ached right through the joint. The thin material of his worn cargo pants was no match for the wooden floor, and it’s not like Michael had cushions. Wren didn’t even have a pillow for his bed.
He staggered over to the window. He could just see out. Michael had covered the bottom panes with some type of film that was stuck to the glass. That covering made it impossible for Wren to see out clearly. He could…just…if he stood on his tiptoes. The top two panes in the four-pane windows weren’t covered.
It was still night, although Wren had no idea of the time. He craned his neck, staring up at the stars. They weren’t very clear thanks to the lights reflecting on the street below. But they were there. He could see them. Remote. Distant. Beautiful.
Wren looked down to where the window catch should have been. The unpainted shapes of the catch on the wooden frames were all that was there. Of course Michael had removed them – if nothing else, he was thorough.
I should just break the glass, he thought. There was a small ledge outside the window, barely more than a foot. Wren remembered that from the last time he’d tried to escape. It wouldn’t hold him for long. One buffet of wind and he’d be knocked off.
But isn’t that a better way to go?Isn’t it better to actually leave my fate in the hands of the gods instead of the man who plans to kill me anyway?Wren didn’t know a lot about God with a capitalG. He was just a mysterious being that inflicted punishments on those considered unworthy – it was all his grandparents could ever talk about. It was up to God how long a person might live, at least that’s what Wren remembered.Better a random being than Michael.
Looking around the room, there was nothing there that Wren could break the glass with, particularly the lower panes that had the film over them.I’ll just have to peel it off, he decided.That can’t be too hard. It’s only a sticky paper, after all. And if Michael catches me..?
Wren didn’t even bother following that thought through to its conclusion. He already knew what would happen. And quite frankly, his life had gotten to the point where the end couldn’t come soon enough.At least the outcome would be in my hands, not his,he thought as he carefully made his way to the kitchen to find a butter knife. He could use that as a scraper tool for the glass covering, and the kitchen chair would break the glass when he was done.
Chapter Seven
Devon didn’t have to worry about being caught out in a lie. Michael loved the sound of his voice too much to let anyone else speak. From the moment he sat down, Michael immediately said, “You have no idea how glad I am that you and I are alike in those important ways, if you know what I mean.” He even winked.
Devon didn’t bother to smile, and he definitely wasn’t winking back. He didn’t have to be nice to the man. He just needed information from him.Keep it together. You can do this for BlueKnight64.
“Knowing that also means you know how to be discreet.” Devon picked up his glass again. He noticed that Michael had lost both of his glasses, but that didn’t stop him from drinking directly from the bottle.
