The Trials of Being Loved

Part 33 - Polar Bear Protection

"Fuck." Tam laid his head on the steering wheel. "And I just sent Off and New there. What the fuck was I thinking?" He picked up the phone and dialed Off, praying he answered. "Please, I can't be late!"

~~~~~~~~~~

The condominium wasn't large. It took less than two minutes to verify the truth in Tay's words. The manager was furious! That brat had escaped him again while he was in custody! Over a week of work, not to mention months of preparation, down the toilet! 

"Call him." He brandished his knife at Tay. "Make him come here. Now." 

Shrugging, Tay tossed his phone to the intruder. "It's not locked. I don't have his number. After all your stalking, New changed his number. I don't have a new one. See for yourself." He kept his face blank, glad this was the only way to protect him. So what if it had been childish, deleting his new number after he left the Tam's but... he closed his eyes, biting the inside of his cheek, it didn't matter anyway. I remembered it. 

One handed, the manager caught the phone. Now, there was a problem. If he checked the phone, he had to use both hands. The threat of the knife was was useless. Tay was taller, even if he had more bulk, and older. He wasn't sure if he would win in a fight, honestly, although he was truly desperate. 

Desperate men do dangerous, stupid things. He snarled, waving both hands erratically. "Fucker!" He wanted to wipe the spit from the corner of his mouth, instead, his foot swiftly kicked, connecting with Tay's shin, and the scream was very satisfying. 

Watching him drop and rub it, gave him an idea. Why didn't he think of it sooner? Hadn't he been on the set of some of those cheesy laklorns? "Get up!" He kicked Tay again, this time harder. "Get up!" He screamed, finding much pleasure in releasing a lot of the rage in not finding New Thitipoom here, in hurting Tay. "I need some rope."

"I don't have any." He didn't. This asshole could tear his whole condominium apart and he wouldn't find any. Still, he slowly stood up, and stared defiantly at the man. 

The manager pushed him with the knife between his shoulder blades. "Go into your bedroom."

 Tay wobbled, a wash of fear rolled through his body. The bedroom? Why the bedroom? He felt the press of the knife again between his shoulders again, and distantly, through the ringing in his ears, "Move!" His feet moved, slowly, toward the bedroom.

Once there, Tay was pushed roughly to the floor, landing hard on his knees. "Stay." A small part of him wanted to growl like a dog, or bark, but he doubted the asshole understand.

His neatly packed bag, went flying, toiletries and clothes falling out as it hit the wall. "You were going to meet him, weren't you? Damn it, all I had to do was wait and follow!" Spit hit the back of Tay's neck and he shook in disgust now, not fear. Tay curled over, as his foot connected with his belly. 

Completely lost to his irrational anger, Tay lost his importance. He slammed through his closets until he found what he needed. Bedsheets! Bedsheets were perfect for this. Using his knife, he started a small cut and tore long strips to tie up Tay. He stared at the useless man on the floor. With an evil grin, he walked over to the man withering in pain on the floor. 

Tay couldn't concentrate, he had never hurt like this before. Had this man broke something inside him? Suddenly, he felt his arms being yanked back and his hands tied, his were feet too. 

Finally, the intruder walked around, knifeless for the first time and buried his hand into Tay's hair, pulling his head upright to stare into his eyes. "Where is New Thitipoom?"

"I don't know." It was so hard to speak around the pain. Tay was gasping for air, his legs still trying to curl up. "I really don't."

"I believe you." Air hissed out of the former manager's mouth, almost whistling as it did. "It's a pity really, that I do. Now, it's only you here." His fist came back, and he punched him, hard, as hard as he could. Then, he started to kick him, over and over, until Tay stopped moving. 

It did little to assuage the feeling deep in his heart, but he still had the phone. Maybe that would help. He walked into the kitchen, grabbed one of Tay's beer's and swiped open his phone. He spent over an hour on it and screamed in anger before throwing it across the room.

"Fucking useless prick!" He grabbed a beer and strolled over to the couch, not realizing how much BLOOD he now tracked over the spotless floors. His ornate family ring had cut his hand, and dripped. Without care, each clench, and every movement re-opened the wound. "Fucking useless prick!" He repeated again, but now, he wasn't sure who he meant. 

His phone rang, and he answered it with a sharp, "Yeah?" His mood changed sharply, the more the other party talked. He hung up without a word. Then, he picked up Tay's broken phone, and his, taking them to the bathroom, and put them in the sink, filling it with water. Tay's being so old, was almost instantly destroyed. He growled, took his out, and stomped on his, cracking the glass first, then resubmerging it.

Next, he belly slid past Tay, who hadn't moved at all, carefully slid open the balcony doors, and walked on his elbows to the rail of the balcony. Peering over, he cursed loudly. How in the fucking hell did they find out so damn fast??? 

He was screwed! Damn that mafia lawyer, Sayen Sangenthian ! Damn New Thitipoom for getting him involved with the mafia in the first place! He peeked over the balcony again. He spotted both the police AND mafia out there! 

He crawled back to where he wouldn't be seen and leaned back. When did everything start to go so fucking wrong? He bared his teeth, firming his resolve. 

He was going to survive. He was going to not publish anything, this time.

This time, if he was going to die, so was New Thitipoom!

~~~~~~~~~~

* For those of you who haven't read my previous stories with "bad guys", I don't EVER give them names, only occupations, because the people who hurt us most are usually closest to us, either through work association or by relationship. Why should I give them a personality by giving them a name when leaving them faceless allows you to build either a very nondescript character or a very scary person, depending on your imagination and my words. Occupation is enough: ex-manager, reporter... ex-confidant, fired, fined!

I DO name the lawyer, though, for he hasn't committed any crime. He isn't even aware of what his client is up too, at least, not yet.