The Trials of Being Loved

Part 35 - GRRR Polar Bear, that's BS!

Maybe... it was time for Gun to tell New the cold hard facts of HIS story. But that was for another day. Off shrugged, as he turned the car around. "New, call Gun and ask him to meet us at the house. I think I need a nap. I'm getting old, you know." It was a pre-set code between them, used for when HE was close to loosing his shit, after being hauled everywhere like a living fucking doll. 

New blinked, like an owl but didn't say anything, only sent a text. Once the phone beeped, "Off? Gun said yes." 

~~~~~~~~~~

Tay could hear voices but didn't know where they were coming from. Nothing was making sense anymore as waves and waves of pain drifted through his body. He tried hard to fight past it, keeping time by glancing at the clock but the glowing red numbers began to look blurred, smearing into the blood he'd been steadily coughing up. 

He needed help. Now. "Help!" He coughed, "Please, help me..." He groaned, rolling over. "Help... I'm hurt!" 

Instinctively, he curled up tighter as he heard footsteps, heavy ones coming nearer. "Fucking hell! You damn well better not die on me!" 

"Ahhhhhhhhh!" Tay screamed, and even more blood spattered all over the once pristine floor. The man had kicked him in his lower back, since he was tightly curled up, protecting his front. Since that wasn't where he was expecting it, and he'd never been hit there before, the pain lingered. "Oh," he moaned, pitifully, rolling slightly, curling up even tighter, "Just kill me... I can't take this. Look at the blood." He coughed again, too weak to even wipe away the blood. "I'm dying in front of you." 

"Don't care." He snorted briefly. "We'll probably both die anyway. I owe too much money to the mob." The delivery was so deadpan, Tay wasn't sure if it was true, or not, or if he was imagining it. Tay heard the bedsprings squeak as he sat down heavily. "I don't mind dying, to be honest. I've really fucked up my life, being money hungry, wanting things that I shouldn't have." He leaned back and extended a leg to be able to press one foot on Tay's sore back, taking pleasure in his pain. 

"Listen, kid, I always knew there was something weird about New, just couldn't figure it out, otherwise I'd have blackmailed him, not fucked up his contract and did the skimming scam. Blackmail is much safer than a manipulated contract but I had no choice, that kid is clean." He pulled out a beaten pack of smokes and without a care lit one. 

He flicked ashes on Tay, looking down at him. "It didn't matter how many times they said you boys were straight, I KNEW you had to be perverts to be kissing boys, even for money." He bent down and pulled Tay's beaten, bloody face up, watching it wrinkle in pain. "If I agreed to let you go after a blowjob, would you do it?" He smiled at the confusion on Tay's face before simply letting him drop back to the floor with a thud, as Tay found enough strength to gather up a wad composed of blood and saliva and spit it in his face.

Now, laughing, almost hysterically, the ex manager toed him, roughly as he stood up. "A one man fuck, huh? Figures... Pity I'm not into guys or I'd find out what your ass is like." As he left the room, he deliberately walked on him, with all his weight. Tay screamed, and screamed, before finally passing out.

At the doorway, the ex-manager, ex sleezy reporter, and now unemployed, looked down at the poor man on the floor. "Fuck, boy, you weren't supposed to do that. Now I don't have anyone to talk to when they kill me." He dropped his cigarette to the floor, crushing it into Tay's shining wooden floors. 

~~~~~~~~~~

The 911 operator went silent at the first "Help", and began to track the cell phone. It was difficult with mobiles, since they were harder to know if they were at the home address. She maintained the connection, her busy fingers typing out the details of the call to the police.

The desk sergeant, already on a call with a very upset Mr. Tam, was actually glad to receive a kidnapping dispatch from the 911 operator. At least he was, until she gave him the address. At the exact moment, when it all solidified that it was the same case, he cursed very loudly and threw up his hands. 

Picking up the internal desk phone, he called the commander, NOT his captain, who had decided to take the day off to avoid Mr. Tam. "Commander, we have a situation that has developed." He was already praying to Buddha that karma fell to where it firmly belonged, on the shoulders of the Captain and the Prosecutor Office, not to mention that irritating mafia lawyer, Sayen Sangenthian.

The desk sergeant held the phone receiver away from his ear, as the Commander voice rose. Maintaining a level voice, he replied, "Yes, sir, I understand, sir. Right away, sir." He glared at the reporter who inched closer, his cell phone angled to record the conversation. 

Glaring at the reporter from Daily News, the Sergeant simply said, "I'll toss you in a cell for the next 48 hours, if you don't delete that right now. The Commander has given me permission." He watched the reporter, who had been assigned to his precinct, turn to run, knowing he had a juicy story. With a simple wave, a junior officer had him on the ground, the cell phone in hand. 

"Sarg? You need this?" The junior tossed it to his superior, who was well liked. He often protected them from the notoriously difficult Captain and his silly, or downright stupid orders. 

"Thanks, Officer Yim. Put him in holding and don't process him for at least twelve hours." The Sergeant pushed his hands through his thinning hair and sighed. Fuck his life. No, forget that, fuck up his Captain's and but good! If only he could prove he was taking bribes... but this wasn't the time. He had to mobilize the team and save that young man, BEFORE the press ruined his career and life.

As the Commander said, BEFORE the press ruined the reputation of the Bangkok Police Force.