DISCLAIMER: I can not take credit for this story! The main characters are created by the Magnificent Seven writers and especially by the actors who played them and brought them to life on the screen; the background of this story isn't mine either, it's MOG who created the wonderful ATF universe and yes, the story itself also isn't mine, since it leans very heavily on the movie 'Nobody could protect her'. It is not my intention to belittle true life tragedies in any way with this story, but after seeing the movie I felt a deep need to write this.
WARNING: male/male sex and male/male rape. There is also mention of child abuse and child murder and the hurt of an animal.
PROLOGUE
"There.""Where?"
"Over there! See him?"
"Oh... yeah!"
Two pair of hungry eyes fastened on the tall, blond boy who was cycling along the street, throwing newspapers into the gardens he passed. The brown sedan slowed down and followed carefully.
Left, into Garrison Street.
Left again, following Logan Avenue until Arapahoe Road. Across Arapahoe and into Briarwood Drive. There the sedan stopped when the boy grabbed an armful of newspapers, threw the bicycle down and headed for the door of the apartment building. He disappeared inside and the two settled down to wait.
"He won't be long."
"Nah, he won't be. Apartments are quick, all those mailboxes side by side."
"Yeah. Oh, my God!"
"Jesus!"
They both shot to attention when two men exited the building, one very tall, dark haired, with a big mustache on his face and gesturing wildly with his arms. The other one tall as well, but not as tall as his companion, a look of mild amusement on his face, blond hair falling forward, almost into his eyes. A hand came up and impatiently brushed those strands back.
All the while the two men were walking over the parking lot in front of the apartment building, two pair of eyes were following them, riveted. Were watching avidly as they climbed into a big, black Ram. Kept following the Ram hungrily, very hungrily, until it disappeared from sight.
"Oh, wow," one of them sighed.
"God, I'm hard, I'm so fucking hard!" the other moaned.
"Yeah!"
"Shit! Where's the bicycle? Where's that boy? I need him, now!"
"There, look, there he goes. Relax, he's going into the next apartment building, see?"
The gear groaned when it was shifted too fast and then the sedan slowly eased forward, until it was opposite the next apartment building.
+ + + + + + +
Detective John Lassimer exited his car and looked around. He opened the backseat door, retrieved his jacket and slowly put it on, while his partner, Detective Jo-Anne Benton, was already walking over to the policemen surrounding a fallen bicycle in an alley.
"What have we got?" she asked brusquely.
"The bicycle of a missing boy, Detective," one of the officers said. "This boy, Jamie Sullivan, he's been missing for three hours now. Never came back from doing his newspapers round." He sighed and looked at the bike and all the newspapers strewn around it. "Doesn't look like he's met some friends."
"No, no, it doesn't," Benson agreed. "How many men have we got here? We need to go house to house, ask if anyone saw something."
Lassimer walked up, letting his partner do the talking. He was happy to let her, let her do all the running as well. He was long past the age where the impression he made on others worried him. While Benton started orchestrating the search, he watched the bicycle, lying just inside the alley with the front wheel turned up in the air. He had to resist the urge to give the wheel a spin. Shaking his head he stepped past the bike and headed further into the alley. It was narrow, separating the last two apartment blocks on Briarwood Drive. On both sides the alley was lined with small shrubs clinging to the apartments, to give it a friendlier look, green leaves slowly swaying in the soft morning breeze.
His eyes took everything in. Broken twigs. A bush half crushed. A carton box, flattened. And then, at the end a single door into the apartment building to the right, locked, unused and very dirty. On the wired glass window he saw five almost clean stripes and suddenly he felt a cold dread inside. He stepped up and put his own hand level with the marks, without touching them.
It was clear that five fingers had been clawing at the glass. His eyes traveled lower. It was also clear that they had been dragged down as if someone had desperately tried to hold on to something you couldn't hold on to.
"Benton!" he yelled.
She came running. Off course she would run.
"Yes?" she asked, hardly winded.
He nodded towards the print on the door.
"Oh, God," she breathed. Then, turning, she yelled. "Sergeant Dawson! Get dispatch, now! Tell them to pull everyone we got down here, juvy, vice, everyone! And I need a sector map!" She was already running back and he followed, hearing her yell for them to start searching the entire neighborhood.
CHAPTER I
"We're late!" Chris groused, swatting Buck's hand away from worming itself towards his crotch. "Stop that!"In answer Buck leaned in close and kissed his ear.
"Buck!" he hissed, "Stop it! Folks 'll talk!"
Buck lifted his head and peered through the windows into the murky parking garage. "What folks, Larabee? Besides, you can hardly see us with these tinted windows." He dove back in for the kill and not only lashed onto Chris' lips with his own, he also let his hand dive south again.
Only to find himself pushed away. Chris' eyes were blazing and damn if it didn't make the man even sexier. Buck couldn't help himself, he needed more.
"Come on, Chris! We didn't get anything going this morning! Just some kisses is all I ask."
Chris snorted. "And who's fault was that?" Hastily he avoided Buck's grasping hands and leaped out of his truck.
"Can I help it JD got sick?" Buck exited as well.
"No?"
"Aw, come on, that's not fair! I never meant for him to go under in your pond."
"But he did, didn't he?"
Buck huffed, hurriedly following Larabee to the elevator.
"It happened during some harmless fun! Besides, I don't think anyone else would've gotten ill from a little dive like that. Ain't my fault that kid is too weak for his own good. Must've been the Boston air he was raised in." He slapped the palm of his hand on the call button and muttered a curse when the elevator door didn't open instantly. Beside him Larabee folded his arms, briefcase dangling from his fingers, bumping slightly against his side. There was an amused grin on his face.
"What?"
"Nothing, Buck," Chris smirked. "Just wanted to tell you I had a really good time seeing you trying to placate JD this morning. Not to mention going with you into the slumps of Purgatory instead of him, to meet with that snitch of yours."
Before Buck could give him a sharp reply about no good so-called friends whom he'd have expected to be glad to give him some backup in times of need, the elevator door opened.
Finally something was going right. It was empty.
Hastily he grabbed Chris by the neck and before the man could protest, he propelled him against the back wall and lashed onto that delicious mouth, not even bothering to look when he punched in number seven on feel alone. He didn't let go of Chris until he heard the warning chime telling them the door was about to open.
"Anything to say, Larabee?"
The glazed green eyes, just the way he loved to see them, suddenly focused again.
"Yeah! Payback's a bitch, Wilmington."
Those raspy words, the image they conjured up in Buck's mind and that cocky, slightly crazy grin on Chris' face, especially that grin, made his cock twitch in want. And Hell if Larabee's eyes didn't light up knowingly.
Bastard knew exactly what he was doing to him.
Retaliation was out of the order when two fellow agents stepped inside and punched in number 14, the top floor of the building. Both looked a bit sweaty and were fidgeting with their ties and collars. Buck grinned at Chris, who grinned back knowingly. They exited at the seventh floor with a cheerful 'happy meeting' to the other agents, who gave them dark looks in return, and hastily went to the office.
Actually, Chris went hastily, so all Buck could do was follow. At least it gave him a nice view. Just before he entered the team office, Chris wriggled his perfect ass, just once, gave him that nasty grin over his shoulder and disappeared. Buck had to stop for a moment to adjust himself in his jeans, glad they weren't as tight as Chris's.
Damn that son of a bitch! Chris knew what he did would leave Buck hard for the next hour or so, picturing that wriggle over and over again. Sometimes he wondered what happened to his brain when he decided to go after Larabee and ditch the girls for him.
The bastard was by far the most aggravating lover he'd ever had! And also the only one who had been able to keep his interest for longer than a few weeks.
Almost two years now...
Buck smiled happily. He planned to celebrate their second year anniversary in style, whether Chris liked a fuss or not.
Inside the bull pen Vin looked up. "So JD finally threw in the towel and admitted he's too sick to come to work, Buck? And you been making amends this morning?" he asked.
"No, I didn't! Why should I? It was just some harmless fooling around. I can't help it if the kid's so unsteady on his feet! Besides," he tried to placate everyone, holding his hands wide, "it wasn't that cold!"
"I expected you to take the day off and take care of him," Nathan said, looking at him sternly.
"Nope."
Nathan's mouth formed a thin line.
"He don't need me, he's got Casey all over him, taking care of him juuuust right."
"Casey?" Vin asked, a huge grin on his face. "Really?"
"Yeah. Kid's got all the help he needs and she's agreed to look after him the whole weekend as well, while me and Chris are up in the mountains."
"And you got kicked out."
"Now, I wouldn't say 'kicked out', Vin. It's just that two youngsters need their space."
"Good for JD! Casey is a wonderful girl," Josiah said with something sounding suspiciously like pride in his voice.
Chris stepped into the bull pen, files in his arms. "She sure is, ladies. She gave Buck a piece of her mind about what happened too, so she won one in my book. All right, time to end this tea party, conference room now. The Vinson case. Where's Ezra?"
Everybody suddenly saw something very interesting on the ceiling, their desk or their boots.
"Damn! Let's start anyway."
Buck's eyes fastened on Chris' backside when the team leader walked past him to the conference room. He felt his cock twitch again and sighed. Vin's amused look didn't help to make him feel better either. He was just opening his mouth to make a scathing remark about the sharpshooter's lack of a love life, when Ezra stepped through the door.
Chris' eyes narrowed and Ezra held up his hands placatingly. "Please, Mister Larabee, please. I do not need any scolding after the dreadful night I have just spent in the most awful bar in all of Purgatory. Why on earth Mister Vinson wants to frequent that particular locale is beyond me. And on a Tuesday night no less..."
"Josiah was with you and he managed to be on time just fine."
"Ah, well, ahem... Maybe it would be a good idea to discuss the particulars of what he and I encountered last night?" There was a slight emphasis on the word night and Chris' face hardened. He didn't say anything though, just turned around and walked into the conference room.
The others looked at Ezra and shook their heads before following him, leaving the undercover agent to enter last. No one reacted to his muttered "What? It was night!"
+ + + + + + +
It was already past five p.m. when Buck entered Chris' office, prepared to drag his boss out with force if necessary.
"Chris, it's time to go. The others can close down the fort."
"Buck, I have..."
"No, you haven't! Ezra hasn't made any real contact yet, so this case isn't going anywhere at the moment and you and I were going to spend a nice long weekend away, remember? You haven't cancelled your free days for tomorrow and Friday, did you? Because if you did, I'm gonna strangle you here and now!"
"No, I haven't. I just want to see if..."
"Damn it, Chris!" Buck grabbed Chris' cell phone, threw it in his briefcase and walked with it to the door. "It'll all be here when you come back Monday morning! Now, move, we still have to get my things from the condo and I wanna check on JD one last time."
Chris snorted. "You do know he's gonna look us away, don't you? That kid had plans with Casey and you all but ruined them."
"Aw, come on! He'll be feeling better already, I'm sure of it!"
It was difficult to get to Buck's and JD's apartment. There were police cars everywhere and police officers were talking to various people. After they exited Chris' truck, Buck didn't follow Chris to the entrance of the building. It worried him to see all these cops and not know what was going on. A warm presence behind him told him Chris had come back.
"You wanna find out what's going on first?" the blond asked softly, understanding in his voice.
Buck nodded tersely and they walked over to one of the cops. When they flashed their badges, the young man immediately was cooperative. "Sir, there was a young boy abducted and killed. We searched the area and found his body near the river." The cop, so young that he was still almost a kid himself, looked in the direction of the Platte and swallowed audibly. "He... he was stabbed and strangled," he said softly, "and he was only fifteen, I think."
"Do you know who he was?" Buck asked.
"Who wants to know?"
Buck and Chris turned. Behind them stood an elderly man, whose hair had started to grey. Buck grinned when he saw him.
"Hey, Lassimer! Long time no see! So you're directing this show?"
"Buck, you old rascal! And Larabee too. What are you doing here?"
"I live here, Lassimer." Buck nodded at the building they were parked before. "Together with my partner, JD Dunne."
"Partner?" Lassimer rose his eyebrows in disbelieve. "You? I'd never expected you to get hitched, Buck. Wow, that is a surprise! Must be some lady."
Buck couldn't help it, he had to laugh. If Lassimer only knew. Avoiding looking at Chris, he said, "Nah, not that kind of partner! Don't let him hear you, he'll be mortified! He's my partner at the ATF and also my roommate. He didn't have a place to stay when he joined the team and, well, the arrangement worked, so we let it be."
"Oh, yes, the ATF." Sharp eyes went to Chris. "I heard you two were hooked up together again. Your team has built quite a reputation, Larabee."
Chris nodded, but didn't say anything and Buck brought the subject of the conversation back to what they wanted to know. "So, what happened here, Lassimer?"
The question immediately killed the detective's good cheer. "It's like young Sherman over there has already told you, Buck. A murdered kid, Jamie Sullivan, fifteen years old. Stabbed and strangled and... Aw hell, there's traces of sexual abuse as well. You know him?"
Buck could only stare at Lassimer. Dead? Sexually abused? Jamie? Dear God!
A nudge from Chris took him out of his stupor. "Know him? No, not really, just bumped into him occasionally. His dad and I went to school together." He turned to Chris. "Don Sullivan, remember? Tall, blond kid? Just like Jamie is... was." He swallowed. "You've seen Jamie this morning; he was the boy who was delivering the newspapers. Remember him?" He turned back to Lassimer. "We saw him on his round when we went to work."
"When did you get to work?" the man asked. He still sounded friendly, but his eyes had suddenly taken on a hard gleam.
"We went to see an informant first," Chris answered, his voice soft, but dangerous. "Together. Why? You implying something here?"
"I'm just doing my job."
Chris nodded tersely. "And we can't tell you who our informant is even though you might wanna check our alibi out. Just doing our job too."
"I understand. Thanks for your time."
"Yeah." With a last, dark look at Lassimer Chris walked away.
"Don't mind him," Buck said hastily. "He knows you're just doing your job and so do I. I only hope you'll get the bastard who did it, and fast!"
"We will, Buck." Lassimer grinned. "How you put up with his temper I'll never know."
"Oh, it's an acquired taste, Lassimer, it's an acquired taste."
+ + + + + + +
They had spent some time with JD and Casey, strangely reluctant to leave them alone after what had happened to Jamie Sullivan so nearby, until the two young people practically threw them out. Now they were on their way to the ranch and what should be a few days of relaxation. Something Buck had arranged after the last, grueling case that had had Chris up for nights on end and in meeting after meeting with the brass. Buck had been looking forward to their long weekend ever since he had set it up, but right now he couldn't wrap his mind around what had happened today, so close to his and JD's home.
From beside him came an exasperated sigh. "Will you quit worrying? JD's doing fine, so is Casey!"
"I know. But... it's just... that boy was raped, Chris! Raped! Who would do that to a boy of fifteen? Hell, who would do something like that, period? I mean, someone that sick, what if he goes after JD next?"
"Don't go there, Buck. JD's a cop, he knows what to do and that scares cowards like child molesters off. Besides, JD is years older."
Chris looked at him for a moment, before bringing his attention back to the road. But he did put one hand on Buck's thigh. The warmth of that hand sent goose bumps all over Buck's skin.
"We're almost there," Chris said softly, "and once we are, I'll take care of it, Big Dog."
"Nothing can take care of something like this."
"No, but I sure can take care of you." The hand stroked his leg and he shivered. Yes, Chris would know what to do. Chris would offer himself up and let him drill into that tight ass until Buck wouldn't know what was up or down anymore. Or maybe he would offer himself up, maybe what he needed right now was to get drilled himself.
Thoroughly, deeply...
God, his head hurt.
The hand left his thigh and he looked at Chris. Something had changed.
"What's up?"
"I think we might be followed."
"Followed? Really?" Buck turned around to look through the back window and saw the shadow of a car far behind him, lights beaming through the rapidly growing darkness. "You sure? Would that have anything to do with our last case? Or maybe with Vinson? But how would he know about us, we're only just on his tail."
"I don't know and I've already taken the road to the ranch. Shit!"
They looked at each other, then Buck whipped out his cell phone and pressed the speed dial for Josiah.
"Josiah? Buck here. We might have a situation. No, no, nothing with JD, he's fine. But we're almost at the ranch and it looks like we're being followed. Keep the line open."
"I'm going off here," Chris said, right before making a sharp turn into the lane to one of their remote neighbors. He stopped and killed the lights. "Let's see what they do."
"Josiah? Chris has gone off the road. No, no, we're not at the ranch yet. They just passed us, a sedan, too dark to see the color. I couldn't get the license plate either, can't hardly see the road as it is. Chris? What're you doing?"
Chris was slowly easing the black Ram out of the lane, back on the road. With the lights still off, he followed the car in the far distance.
"Damn it, Chris, it's too dark to ride without lights! These mountain roads ain't no picnic."
"I can drive this road with my eyes closed, Buck."
"Don't even joke about that!" Buck studiously avoided looking at the steep drop only inches away from him. Too dark now to see the bottom, thank God.
"He's not stopping, he keeps on driving."
"Josiah, the car isn't stopping or trying to turn or anything, it just keeps going. False alarm?" he asked Chris.
"I don't know. But they're not coming back, so let's head home."
"Seems like false alarm, Josiah. Nah, no need to come over, are you nuts? We're with the two of us and what's more, we're big boys. See you Monday at the office. What? Oh, yeah, all right, that's a good idea. We'll do that."
He flipped his cell close and looked at Chris, who negotiated the lane to his ranch in the dark. "Wouldn't hurt to put the lights back on, Chris. And Josiah wants us to call him before we head off tomorrow. That way he can be sure nothing happened."
"Good idea."
"Chris? The lights?"
"Oh, yeah." A moment later two bright beams cut through the dark and fell on the gravel in front of them. Chris didn't talk and when they had reached the house he didn't move, but sat behind the wheel, pensively and not saying a word. Buck shook his head. Damn if Chris wasn't already thinking through every possible angle if they really had been followed.
"Well, I'm going inside. I'm beat."
He had barely taken off his jacket, when Chris stepped up behind him and wrapped his arms around Buck's middle. A mouth lashed onto his neck, giving him those delicious goose bumps again.
"Oh, Chris," he moaned.
A hand grabbed his crotch and he bumped against it, instantly hard. "Seems to me we had some plans," the husky voice told him.
"So... so you were saying."
"Yeah, so I was saying."
The hand was rubbing him and unable to bear it any longer, he turned around in those whipcord thin, but strong arms and took Chris in a hard, searing kiss.
"Let's get to it, then!"
+ + + + + + +
The next morning, after making long, slow love first, they called Josiah to tell him nothing had happened, checked in on JD one last time, saddled their horses and rode off. Chris took the lead, packhorse trailing behind him. Buck always let Chris take the lead; he enjoyed the view much more that way.
He couldn't wait to reach their camping spot beside the beautiful river at the edge of Chris' property. They didn't need to go far to be away from it all, that river was in the middle of some of the most beautiful country Buck had ever seen. It was also filled with fish. One of the best fishing spots in the whole of the United States and Chris owned it, the lucky bastard.
It made him a lucky bastard as well.
He looked up at the bright blue sky and the already warm sun. Even for the second half of June the weather was exceptionally great and everything he could have asked for. He had plans which could be best implemented in this kind of weather. Like getting Chris naked and down on that special, sandy spot they knew, to make love to him at the water's edge, with nothing but wilderness around them.
He shifted, his cock suddenly in the way.
Three nights, three nights out there in the open, far away from the city and the job, it would be Heaven. With a little luck, they wouldn't even need the tent. The tent was fine, but Buck aimed for some loving under the stars.
CHAPTER II
"Damn!""Something wrong?" Buck came up, saddlebag over his shoulder, bedroll beneath one arm.
"The door is open! Wanna bet the boys crashed here this weekend?"
Off course Buck laughed about it, Chris knew damn well who was responsible for making all of his team members so free with his house as if it was their own, except maybe for Ezra. "Let's take stock of the damage," he said with resignation. "Serves you right if there's no beer left."
"Serves me right? What did I do?"
"Oh, nothing at all, just started this kind of behavior. And, Buck? I will have their hides for leaving the door open, I can't have that."
"Sure, sure! I'm going upstairs, stow the gear away. You take care of the laundry."
"Wait...!" Too late, the bastard was already running up the stairs with the bedrolls and Chris' small tent. With a sigh he took Buck's saddlebag and his own and brought them to the laundry room. There he unceremoniously dumped them, got his and Buck's toiletries and headed up the stairs. Buck could do his own damn laundry.
What the hell was Buck doing anyway? He didn't hear even a peep from upstairs.
"Buck?"
He nearly collided with his lover's back when he stepped into the bedroom. "What...?"
He froze.
The bed was covered with clothes, his clothes. Piles and piles of them. The drawers were open, with his underwear and t-shirts half hanging out of them, those that hadn't been put on the bed.
"Jesus!"
"We better call the police," Buck said, still staring around.
"I don't know..." He didn't like the idea of having some stranger, or worse, some cop he did know, see... this. It was eerie to say the least.
"Maybe it's a prank from the boys?"
"Chris, you know it isn't. They wouldn't have done it this way, this... neat."
"We better check first."
"Damn it, Chris!" But Buck reluctantly took out his cell and called Vin. The conversation was brief.
"Nope, they didn't do it. He swears they weren't even here this weekend, except for the horses. Just get on with it, Chris. I don't like this."
"All right, all right, I'll call the cops! Then let's see if something is missing."
"Good. I'll put my stuff in the guestroom. Keeping up appearances." Buck smiled, leaned down and gave Chris a quick kiss, before grabbing the toiletries Chris was still holding. Then he headed down the hall, leaving Chris staring around his bedroom.
The police arrived forty-five minutes later. Since the breaking and entering had clearly been over and done with, there was no need for any emergency measures and the PD just sent in someone to handle the report. The man was shaking his head while walking with Chris through the house.
"So, what's missing?" he asked, looking at the photo albums laying open on the table, showing Chris in various poses between the few people who had been important in his life.
"Nothing much. Some CD's and DVD's, a bottle of scotch."
"A bottle of scotch?" The police officer shook his head. "Imagine that."
Buck walked in. "The horses are all right and Pony and Beavis are bedded down. If I get my hands on the boys tomorrow! How could they leave the door open?"
"They didn't, Buck."
"They didn't? But..."
"He came in through this back window," the cop took over, pointing the window out. "He left through the door."
"Damn!" Buck looked at Chris. "You know, it's all too weird."
"Weird it is," the police officer agreed. "It is almost like he wasn't here to take anything, but just wanted to go through your things, Mister Larabee."
That made Buck laugh out loud. "Shit, pard," he wheezed. "He must've been really bored."
Chris glared at him and pointedly turned away.
"Any chance of catching who did this?" he asked the police officer.
The officer sighed. He put his notepad and pencil in his breast pocket, while he seemed to be pondering Chris' question. "Truthfully? I doubt it. We'll put it on the wire, but I don't think that will get us anything." He looked around one more time before stepping to the front door. "I wouldn't worry too much," he stated. "Looks like a bunch of teenagers."
"Yeah, well, thank you for your time."
The man nodded and walked away. Chris turned, glaring at his still snickering lover. "I swear, if you and Vin so much as breathe a word of this to the rest of the guys, I'll kill you two!" he growled.
The mischievous light in his lover's dark blue eyes told him he was threatening in vain.
God, why couldn't he have had a normal burglar, like anyone else?
+ + + + + + +
"JD?"
"Yeah?"
"Stop that sniveling, it's annoying as hell."
"Oh, really?" JD coughed. "Ain't my fault I'm sniveling."
"It's been two weeks! Anyone else would've been completely healthy again by now."
JD looked at him with accusing puppy dog eyes and sniffed again, loudly. Buck winced.
"Shit, JD, that's gross!" Vin complained, but his eyes went accusingly to Buck, who sighed. How long would JD's unfortunate tumble in the pond on Chris' ranch be held over him, anyway? He shook his head in resignation. Knowing his friends he'd better be prepared for indefinitely, he knew that was how long he would go on about it had happened to someone else.
Ezra stepped through the door, a take away coffee from Starbuck in one hand, the aroma of that special brand he loved wafting immediately through the office, his eyes on the newspaper in his other hand. He hadn't set two steps into the bull pen, there hadn't even been yelled a greeting yet, but still Chris' office door immediately opened and Chris stepped through. The slender, black clad form leaned against the doorpost, while the green eyes settled on the undercover agent.
"Hell, Ezra, you planning on getting some work done before the end of the day?" Chris' soft voice asked sarcastically.
"Mmm? What? Oh, a good day to you all, gentlemen, Mister Larabee. I am sorry, but I was engrossed in the news. Ezra put the paper down on his bureau, sat his coffee carefully on the mat he had bought specifically for this purpose and sat down.
"I can assure you I have been working, Mister Larabee," he said, while leaning backwards with exaggerated movements. "As of last night I am in the game!"
Chris stood up straight. "You made contact?"
"Indeed I did!"
"That's great! Alright, everyone in the conference room ten minutes ago! Seems we have things to discuss!" Chris dove back inside his office and through the open door Buck could see him collecting papers. He turned and grinned at Ezra, who answered by saluting him with his coffee.
Time to gather his own papers. Damn, where did the file with the information from his snitches go?
When they were all sitting, Chris leaned back in his chair and gave Ezra a level stare. "Shoot," he commanded.
Ezra smiled and leaned back as well, only with a far more lazy attitude to it. "Tuesday night next week. And I do mean night. The exchange will be at one a.m. on the abandoned parking space of the Central Colorado Bank's main office."
"The Central Colorado Bank?" Buck exclaimed, appalled. "Damn, Ezra, that's smack down in the middle of the Central Business District. That part is all offices; it's completely abandoned at night and there ain't much in the way of cover!"
"And security is high," Chris said thoughtfully.
"Yes, it is and I am positive that this particular trait of the area is one of the reasons Jay Vinson chose it. He seems to own some of the security guards hired to keep this area safe at night and he counts on them to keep him abreast if anyone else arrives there. I had to give him a detailed description of the car I would be driving, so they would let me go through as well."
"Like Buck said, those parking lots usually offer nothing to hide behind," Vin said softly. "And I'll have to be in one of the offices for a high position, which means I won't be able to get down fast if something goes wrong."
"Vin, if something goes wrong, high up is where I want you," Chris told him flatly. He looked at the faces around the table. "Let's check the site out and get on to the planning!"
+ + + + + + +
The Monday night before the bust turned out to be a night Chris was sure he would remember for a long time to come. Knowing how tense Chris was before a bust, Buck had taken him to bed immediately after dinner and they had made furious love. Then, after they had been lying in each other's arms for a while, satisfied and sated, Buck had started to kiss and caress him all over.
The man knew every inch of his body better than he knew himself. And his hands were miracle workers. It hadn't taken him long to get Chris hard again. When he had, he had taken his sweet time, making Chris pant and writhe and finally beg for release. The bastard had done it by taking him deep and teasing his prostrate, while leaving his cock weeping all on its own. God, it had been ages before he had finally, finally come. How Buck had managed to keep himself from coming that long as well was a miracle to him.
Chris grinned when he thought about his retaliation. In the morning he had pinned Buck down good and had given the man one of his best blowjobs ever, making sure he had no less then four fingers down Buck's hole, teasing his prostrate mercilessly.
It had been Buck begging then.
A voice cut through his pleasant thoughts. Buck. Buck? Why was he sounding so frantic? He opened his eyes and shifted to see what was going on.
Oh, shit! That hurt!
"Jesus Christ! Chris, don't move! Don't you dare move! Nathan!"
"He is currently pinned down in the far corner of the parking lot, Mister Wilmington. I don't see him getting here anytime soon."
"He better. Damn, Stud, I told you it was a bad idea to hide in Ezra's Jag! And why did you dive out of it the way you did? That was de dumbest thing I ever saw! You knew there was no cover! Once you're back on your feet I'm so gonna kick your ass for doing that!"
"Yes, why did you commit such an outrageous act, Mister Larabee? Please enlighten us."
He looked at his glaring undercover agent and frowned, remembering the guns trained on Ezra and how close it had been between him taking Vinson's bastards out and those bastards taking Ezra out. "You... ever s... scare me like that again, I'll k... kill you myself!" he vowed.
It was great to see the normally so talkative man reduced to opening his mouth and closing it again, without a sound coming out. Standish seemed totally flustered.
"That ain't fair, Chris," Buck said softly. "This job comes with risks. If you don't want any of us getting shot or hurt, you better get us other jobs."
He closed his eyes and nodded, too exhausted to start a discussion. He wasn't ready to deal with it, not with the image of Ezra standing helplessly in front of all those guns trained on him still so fresh in his mind.
"And anyway," Buck concluded triumphantly, "at least it shows you know exactly how I felt when you dove out of that Jag!"
"With guns blazing. That was so cool!"
"JD, shut up! And how did you get here?"
Yes, where the hell had JD suddenly come from? "Why you n... not in c... cover?"
"Things are secured and Nathan's on his way. Shouldn't we take of his vest, Buck? Make him more comfortable?"
"Keep yer hands off that vest!" a voice bellowed. "Might be all that keeps him from bleeding to death. Move!" When he saw Nathan's face hovering over him, he felt instantly better. Nathan knew what to do, he always did.
Ouch!
"Hell, N... Nate!" Did it have to hurt so damn much, though?
"I'm trying to stop the bleeding here, Chris. Chris?"
He heard a strange roaring sound and then Nathan's voice came through again. "Chris? You still with me?"
He wanted to say something about stupid remarks, when he lost sight of his friend. He blinked and some vision came back, but it wasn't an improvement. Everything was swaying so much, it made him nauseas. Hastily he closed his eyes again.
Damn, he hurt.
Was that Buck he heard? Why did he sound so scared? Was he pleading? He had to see if Buck was all right!
With an extreme effort he managed to open his eyes again. Yeah, see? Everything was swimming in front of him. But he could make out Buck's face in between it all and smiled at his lover.
Through the ringing in his ears he thought he heard Buck say that the ambulance was coming and also something about hanging on.
He was hanging on. With Buck near him, holding onto him, damn straight he was hanging on!
He wished he could say something to his lover, tell him everything would be all right, but he couldn't manage a sound. So again he simply smiled at him. And held on to the warm hand in his.
+ + + + + + +
They had given Buck permission to ride in the ambulance with Chris, but that was it. As soon as they had reached the hospital, Chris had been whisked away and he hadn't been allowed to follow. No matter how he had cursed and yelled, this was as far as he had gotten, the waiting room just outside Surgery.
Vin came running down the hall, way ahead of Nathan. "How is he?" he asked breathlessly, fear in his eyes.
Buck turned on him savagely. "Still alive, no thanks to you! Why didn't you take those bastards out who were gunning for Ezra? Why did you force Chris to come out of the Jag?"
Immediately Vin stiffened. "Who the Hell you think I am, Buck? Super Sniper? I was busy! In case you hadn't noticed, there's two dead men back there with semiautomatic guns! You know what those are, don't ya? Yeah, I see you do! They were goin' for everybody's backs, you bastard! And nobody had noticed them!"
He stepped forward, yelling now while he gave Buck a savage push against his chest. "You think it's easy up there? You think it's easy to make decisions like that? I saw those two go for Ezra and Josiah and also for you and had to shift position to take them down. How d'you think I felt when I saw I couldn't turn back in time to protect Ezra from Vinson's bodyguards? And then saw Chris dive out of the Jag right in front of those damn goons?"
Buck's anger evaporated. "Aw, Vin...," he sighed. "I'm sorry, man."
"Yeah, me too. Why don't you take the high position next time, see how you like it." He brushed past Buck and fell down in a chair, his hands brushing through his hair. Nathan took the seat beside him, giving Buck a cold look.
He was a jerk, Buck decided. Taking out his fear and worry about Chris on Vin was a low thing to do and Chris would have taken his hide for it if he had known. He walked up to the sharpshooter and knelt in front of him.
"I'm really, really sorry, Vin. I had no right to take my fear out on you."
"It's all right, Buck."
"No, it's not. It's not at all. I really am sorry." He grinned up at the tired face half hidden behind the cascade of light brown curls. "But as soon as Chris is out of here, I'll be sure to yell at him even more, you'll see."
Vin managed a wan smile, but didn't say anything. Instead his head went up and he stared at the door.
"Anyone here for Chris Larabee?" a voice asked.
Buck stood up and turned, Vin and Nathan rising up behind him. "We three are."
"Are you relatives?"
"No, but we all got power of attorney for him."
"How is he?" Vin asked.
"Fine, he is fine, Mister..."
"Vin. Vin's all right."
"Vin," the doctor acknowledged. "The bullet in his upper left thigh had to be removed as well as the bullet in his armpit. It took some time before we could perform the surgery, because first we had to counter the massive blood loss and stabilize him. Most of the blood loss was due to the bullet going in under his vest, lodging into his left armpit. But once he was stable enough we were able to remove the bullets without much problem. Mister Larabee is currently in the recovery room. You can see him once he is settled in the ICU."
As soon as they knew where Chris would end up, Nathan went away to a place where he could use his cell and let Ezra, JD and Josiah know. "They're busy wrapping things up and will probably be here within the hour," he told Buck and Vin when he came back with coffee and some sandwiches. Buck didn't really feel like eating, not until he had seen Chris, but he didn't want to be rude, so he accepted one and even took a bite out of it.
Too bad it tasted like ashes.
Vin didn't have such qualms. He eyed the sandwich critically.
"What the hell is this, Nathan?"
"It's a Turkey and lettuce sandwich, Vin."
"Turkey, no chicken? And where's the mayonnaise?"
"It doesn't need mayonnaise, it's just right as it is. Why ruin perfectly good food with that unhealthy rubbish?"
"Mayonnaise ain't rubbish! And it don't have any ketchup either. Geez, couldn't you'd just bring a donut or something?"
Nathan started to breathe a bit heavily, but Vin was totally oblivious. Grumbling he put the sandwich back on the tray and walked to the vending machine in the hallway. Before Nathan could say something, Buck put a hand on his arm.
"You can't change who he is, Nathan," he said softly. "Especially not now. Let it go. I'm sure Ezra and Josiah will be glad for a sandwich when they get here." He didn't mention JD, who would probably prefer the vending machine as well.
"I know." Nathan put down his own sandwich and sighed. "Actually, I'm not really hungry myself."
"Nah." Glad for the respite Buck put his down as well. He stood up for what must have been the hundredths of times to walk into the hallway and stare in the direction of the elevators.
Chris was just being settled in the ICU when Ezra, JD and Josiah arrived. They all stood waiting silently in the hallway, until the nurses gave the green light. "One at a time," they were told sternly.
Buck off course was the first to go in. He swallowed, looking at the hospital bed where Chris was resting with lots of tubes and wires sticking out of him. Chris looked so pale.... If only he would open his eyes.
"Hey pard," he said softly, taking one slack hand in his own. "Don't do this to me, all right? I ain't good at this at all, I... I just need you to be well and home with me."
"He's too stubborn to die, Buck, ya should know that by now."
"Screw you too, Vin."
"Nah, wouldn't do that to my best friend."
Buck looked over his shoulder at Vin with surprise. He would never have expected such a layback joke about his and Chris' relationship from the man.
Vin was grinning at him. "And with best friend I ain't talkin' 'bout you, pard. Come on, get lost, we wanna have a moment with Chris too."
"Oh, eh, sorry."
Now how had Vin done that, he mused when he was back in the hallway, making him all flustered? He narrowed his eyes when Vin came out, giving Ezra the chance to be next. He was going to think up some dire retribution.
He sighed and looked through the windows into Chris' cubicle. Thinking about retribution would have to wait though, he wasn't up to anything at the moment. Not until he knew Chris would be all right.
+ + + + + + +
Buck's fear about coma's and other possible setbacks proved to be unnecessary. By the end of Wednesday, the day after the bust, Chris' eyes were open and for a very brief moment they were allowed to go in with all six of them at the same time. If they behaved and were extremely quiet.
"I only allow this, because the patient is very anxious to see you all. After that, you will have to leave and let him sleep."
They made every promise they needed to, just to get inside that cubicle.
Chris was pale, very pale, but he was smiling at them. His eyes took each one of them in critically and when he had done his check, Buck saw the tension drain out of him. His men were all right.
His eyes lingered the longest on him and it gave Buck a warm, tingling feeling inside.
"We got them all?" he asked. None needed to be told what he meant.
It was Josiah who answered, showing Chris his wolfish smile while he did. "We sure did. Those who survived are singing like canaries."
"Vinson?"
The wolfish smile took on a positively unholy glee. "Poor Mister Vinson met with some unfortunate accident."
"It seems a bullet found him, right between the eyes. Your shots were impeccable as always, Mister Larabee, even if it was done from the ground, unfortunately with some projectiles embedded in your own flesh." Ezra stepped closer, until he stood right at the edge of the bed.
"Thank you for saving my life," he said softly.
"Anytime," Chris told him just as softly.
An awkward silence fell, but not for long.
"So?" Chris asked, looking at them hopefully. "When can I get out of here?"
Buck and Vin looked at each other and burst out laughing. They just couldn't help themselves. The angry glare Chris shot their way, only made Buck laugh even harder, all the anxiety of the past few hours finally dissolving.
Oh yeah, Chris was going to be just fine!
CHAPTER III
Chris wasn't allowed to go home until after the weekend, despite alternatively wheedling and threatening his doctors. So he certainly wasn't going to tell anyone how lousy he felt when he finally was safely in the Ram. Loosing a pint of blood seemed to do that to you. Buck was the one who picked him up at the hospital and took him to the ranch, where he stayed the whole day taking care of him, pampering him and generally being a nuisance.Chris tried to get him out of the way. He loved Buck and loved the big buffoon taking care of him, but only so far. He just wasn't the kind of man who appreciated someone hovering over him when he had to puke his guts out. Or someone talking to him soothingly, while he was trying to ignore a magnanimous headache. And he certainly didn't appreciate hands all over him, wanting to support him, when he tried to move on his own.
Some biting remarks did get him some breathing space, but never for long.
On the other hand, he had to admit there certainly were rewards to having a partner like Buck. Chris did appreciate his lover's skilful hands softly massaging and caressing him. The warm kisses too were welcome, each and every one of them. And when Buck finally, after some artful pleading from Chris, slipped in the bed with him and carefully wrapped his arms around him, he felt good for the first time since he had been shot.
It had been one of the things he had missed so much after Sarah's and Adam's death, the loving touches and the cuddling, that it had almost driven him crazy. It was wonderful to have it back and it was the one thing he needed right now.
They fell asleep together and were woken up the next morning by an amused Vin. For the first time since he had become involved with Buck, Chris didn't mind. All he did was smile back at Vin's grin and barbs, happy and feeling utterly lazy despite a healthy, long night sleep.
He just felt so damn good with Buck's warm body against his.
That was until he tried to move. Reality immediately slammed home and he couldn't stop the half cry that escaped him when pain coursed through him. He couldn't stop the curses either.
All in all it wasn't the best way to wake Buck, but fortunately his lover took things in stride and was soon helping him first to the bathroom and then to the kitchen.
It brought home how extremely lucky he had been. His wounds might hurt and he might still be weak from the blood loss he had suffered, but he was here, alive, and with everything more or less intact.
Yes, he knew how lucky he had been and so did Buck, he could see it in his eyes. There was something haunted in the back of them and it was only now easing up, now that it was obvious he really was going to be all right.
Tuesday was another lazy day at home, at least, it would have been if Buck hadn't been hovering over him every step of the way. So secretly Chris didn't mind the arrival of Wednesday too much, the day Buck had to get back to work. He tried to weasel himself out of it, but Chris was adamant. He wanted the Vinson case off his back as soon as possible and besides, they had more cases they worked on. And Buck was his second in command.
So Buck, after much protest, had left for the office, making dire threats if Chris even so much as looked at the choirs that needed to be done.
Yeah, right, like he was going to sit on his ass the whole, long day.
As soon as Buck had gone, he walked over to the stables. Buck had taken care of the horses before leaving, even before making breakfast for him and he felt a bit guilty about that. He scratched them all, Pony the longest, but he soon realized he couldn't do much else here; right now his physical strength was up to zero.
He decided to do some laundry, he could do that. He eyed the bottle of painkillers in the kitchen with longing, but it was still too soon. Besides, the stuff made him sleepy and he had slept enough the day before. He smiled. Not that sleeping in Buck's arms was a bad thing.
The day went by slowly. He fell asleep on the couch before the television, but woke up in time to have dinner going when Buck crashed through the front door in a hurry, complaining about the fact he had only been able to call twice, because Travis had been riding them hard on what had happened during the bust.
The evening was bliss, with him in Buck's arms the whole time. First on the couch before the television and then in bed, nice and early, after another heavenly massage.
Thursday Buck drove him to the doctor, but he was back home before lunch, frustrated that he had been brushed off about going to work. He knew he could hardly use his left leg and that he couldn't really lift his left arm yet, but hell, he could've done some paperwork, couldn't he?
The doctor had been adamant. He wasn't going to clear Chris until he had seen him again on Monday and he wasn't making any promises for then either.
He had managed to get Buck to bring him to the office for a while, 'to see the guys' and even had succeeded in gathering some papers up for home, despite Nathan's watchful eyes, so the afternoon was less boring and more productive. Well, if you forgot about the giant nap he involuntarily did on the couch... again.
Friday found him lounging on the porch, files strewn around him, when the phone rang. He didn't even try to get it, he knew the way he moved he wouldn't even have made it to the door before the answering machine took over. A moment later his cell rang. It was Buck, demanding why he wasn't in the house.
"I'm on the porch, Buck. Enjoying the sun. Something wrong with that?"
"Damn. Sorry, Chris. I was just worried when you didn't take the call. No, no, porch is good, very good I'm sure. What is it, Vin? Chris, Vin's saying you could never make it inside from the porch in time for the phone, 'cause you're moving like a... what was it, Vin? Oh, yeah, like a sideways crab with half his limbs torn out."
"Thanks," Chris said dryly. "You guys calling me to insult me?"
"Nah, wanted to tell you the good news right away. Some of Vinson's men finally caved in and you know what? They gave us a lead on Cesare Trovato. How's that for a get well present?"
A lead on Cesare Trovato? The leader of one of the mightiest crime families in Denver?
"Really?" he couldn't help but ask.
"Really!" Buck boomed. In the background he now recognized the festive mood of the team and Chris had to suppress a groan that he couldn't be there to celebrate with them.
"Josiah was great," Buck was telling him. "He's been working on two of the younger perpetrators right from the start, using his own unique logic and this morning they started spouting names and dates!"
"Yeah, Josiah's damn good, using his psychology stuff. Buck, you make sure you buy him a drink on me, hell, buy all of them a drink on me tonight. They earned it."
"But, Chris..." Buck suddenly sounded a lot less elated. "I can't go celebrate when you..."
"Yes, you can," Chris told him firmly. "You know the team needs it and you're second in command, so you have to take them out. Get everyone a nice dinner at Inez's place and lots of drinks to follow it up. They all earned it and you know it!"
"Can't we do the celebrating later? I mean, it won't be the same without you."
Chris was getting tired and a little bit exasperated with his lover. "Damn it, Buck, you know I'm fine! I'm not about to break, so just make sure everyone has a good time! And that's an order."
"All right. But I'm coming home early."
"No, you don't! You need to unwind more than any of the others. You have a good time and maybe sleep in the condo. I'll see you tomorrow."
"But..."
"Buck!" he said warningly. On the other side of the line Buck's breath exploded in the receiver.
"All right, all right, I hear you!" Then he yelled at the other men, "Ol' Chris here orders us to celebrate tonight, you ladies up to that?"
There was an uproar and then Vin's voice came over the line. "Hey, Cowboy. The lead's real good. We'll start laying the groundwork come Monday, but we'll wait for the heavy stuff 'til you're back."
"I'm probably back on Monday, Vin. Have a doctor's appointment to see if I'm fit enough and I'm pretty confident I will be. Might be desk duty only, but I'll be there."
"Good. Hey, can we quit early for this celebratin' thing?"
"Well, I guess that's up to Buck."
"All right, early it is," Vin laughed.
When he had put down the phone, Chris grinned. Vin was probably right, Buck would be a pushover when it came to leaving early for Inez' place.
He dosed on the couch for the rest of the afternoon, made himself some nice sandwiches and was debating going to bed early, when the phone rang. Buck off course.
"Hi lover. Just wanna make sure you're okay," Buck said warmly, his dark voice as usual making Chris tingle inside.
"I'm fine, Buck. Just on my way to bed."
"Ain't that kinda early?" Buck sounded instantly worried.
He sighed. "Buck, nothing's wrong! I'm just going to do something I haven't done in too long, I'm going to curl up with a good book. I know curling up with you is infinitely better, but I have to admit I miss doing this. Still got that book to read Nathan gave me for my birthday, ages ago."
"I could come now."
"Will you just enjoy yourself? I'll probably be asleep before you get here and you know it!"
"All right, if you're really sure?"
"Yeah, I am! Go have some fun, idiot."
"Only if you promise to take your anti-flammatories and your painkillers before you go to sleep."
"Buck!" he threatened. Damn, the man knew him too well.
"Promise or I'm coming over right now!"
"Yeah, yeah, I promise, mother hen!"
"Good. Well, I've seen some really lovely ladies, so I think I'll go now. If you're really sure..."
"See you tomorrow, Buck," he said firmly and put the phone down. Now, where was that book? Nathan had the same taste in books as he had, so he knew he would enjoy it.
And he did just that, up until he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer and decided to call it a night. He felt a bit cold without Buck, but he wasn't going to let that get to him.
After all, tomorrow he would have his lover wrapped all around him again.
+ + + + + + +
Something was slowly dragging him out of his sleep, a sleep that was deeper than normal because of the painkillers he had taken before retiring.
Was the door to his bedroom being opened?
"Buck?" he asked, his eyes still half closed, staring at the open door. The clock on his bedside table said it wasn't even midnight yet. Had Buck decided to come out to the ranch after all?
"Buck? You're back?"
No answer, but he did hear a sound outside. With a frown he got up. Had Buck looked inside and, seeing him asleep, had decided not to disturb him? He better set that man straight then.
Not bothering with slippers or a sweater, after all it wasn't cold, he went through the door in just his t-shirt and boxers, looking in the direction of the guestroom. All was dark and silent. Again he thought he heard a noise, from downstairs this time. Maybe Buck was getting something to eat?
Still, something didn't feel right. Through the cotton filling his head, courtesy of those damn painkillers, a sense of unease was seeping in and he went to the stairs cautiously. He was slowly descending, his senses straining to pick something up, when he heard a noise where he hadn't expected it.
Behind him.
He turned.
A man was standing there, dark, unkempt hair hanging over his eyes, a nasty smirk on his face. In his hand he held a long, wicked looking hunting knife.
Chris only needed a second to register the image, then the knife was descending and he did the only thing he could do, whip his good arm up to block the move. He couldn't stop the yell of pain when he did so, the sudden move he had to make pulling at his wounds.
The man slashed out again and again Chris blocked him, the force throwing him down the stairs. He lay dazed on the steps where the stairs made a turn, seeing the man coming down for him and quickly he rolled over, got back on his feet and hobbled down. He knew he wasn't much of a match the way he was now, he needed some kind of weapon of his own.
Stupid, stupid! His gun was still upstairs, in the nightstand beside his bed and he knew he wouldn't be able to open his weapons safe in time before his attacker was on him again. That left the knives in the kitchen.
When he burst through the kitchen door, he skidded to a halt. Another man was standing there, so much like the first he was sure they were family. This one was holding a knife as well and he was licking his lips while he stepped towards him.
Chris backed away, right into the first one. An arm closed around his chest and he felt something wet and hot beneath his ear.
God, was that a tongue?
He yelled and pushed the elbow of his good arm backwards hard, connecting with something soft. The man behind him let out a groan and his grip weakened, enough for Chris to turn and butt his head on the man's nose. Then he was past him, limping as fast as he could through the last, short part of the hallway leading to the backdoor. He had no choice, the man he had struck was between him and the front door. And although his truck was at the front, his car keys were beside his bed and like his gun he knew he couldn't reach them.
So he went to the back, to the woods there, he could loose them in the woods.
He wasn't fast enough. With his leg not working properly, he was nowhere near fast enough. He made it through the door, he made it down the porch steps, he even managed some steps on the grass and then a weight crashed into him, pinning him down.
They turned him on his back, one holding him, the other tearing his t-shirt off and then, oh God, his boxers. He screamed at them, he tried to break free and kept kicking out with his good leg. A fist suddenly connected with his chin, snapping his head back, making him loose all coherent thoughts.
He didn't pass out though. The next hour or so he wished by God he had passed out. It would still have happened, but at least he wouldn't have felt every tortuous moment of it.
When they were done, one still lying satisfied on top of him, he was sure they would kill him. Instead they started caressing him again.
"You're beautiful," the one on top whispered, cupping his cheek. "You are so beautiful. And so tight, so hot and tight." Then he was down, biting and licking and Chris knew with horror they would go for him again.
This time hands were put around his neck, suffocating him, making every breath he managed to get past the constricting hands a torture. He was sure it was how he was going to die, but then the hands let go of him in the man's ecstasy. While he was still gulping for breath he saw the other one brandishing his knife, fondling himself for his next turn, his want and need keeping him off guard.
Desperately he let his right hand, his left arm all but useless since his wound had opened up again, search the ground for something, anything.
He found a rock and right at the moment the man on top was coming down to rest on him after his release, he swung it up and let it come down as hard as he could on the bowed head.
The man cried out and fell sideways. Chris had no time to hit him again, the other one moved, staring at his partner and than at Chris incredulously.
Chris never knew where he found the strength to stand and hurl the rock, hard, in the face of the second man. It didn't make him drop the knife though and the first was already grabbing for his leg.
Chris did the only thing his screaming mind could think of, he fled. When he heard them come after him, he knew there was no way he could reach the woods in time. He limped to the barn instead, still only a few paces away and lost precious seconds while working the door open far enough for him to slip through. By then, one of them had reached him.
He felt more than heard the man close behind and only by hurling himself forward he escaped alive, the knife only grazing down his back instead of stabbing right through. The man behind him screamed in rage. Operating on instinct and adrenaline alone Chris ducked sideways, fast.
A dark, cursing figure flew past him, falling to the ground. When he looked at the doors of the barn, he saw the second one standing there, the moonlight glittering off his knife.
The horses breezed and whinnied. Behind him he heard Pony stamping and snorting, like the others agitated by what was going on.
Pony...
He didn't know why, maybe it was that he had no other place to flee to, maybe it was because Pony was a friendly spirit and right now he really needed that. Whatever the reason, Chris turned and fumbled with the stable door. He fell more than walked into the stable, again feeling a knife cut in his back.
He managed to get to the far end of the stable and turned there, his back against the solid wood.
One of the men stepped inside as well, his eyes and the white of his teeth the clearest Chris could see of him in the dark of the barn. But he did see the knife in the shadowy hand.
Then Pony was between him and his attacker, screaming in rage. A yell of surprise, maybe of pain, followed and Pony screamed again.
God, Pony, please, don't let them hurt Pony!
What had he done coming in here?
Chris slid down, not caring about what the wood did to the wounds in his back. He saw Pony rear up. Then he slipped sideways, lying down in the dirty straw, pulling up his knees and trying to hold on to sanity.
He just wished he could stop shaking. And then Pony screamed again.