How To Rape A Straight Guy by Sullivan, Michel (phonics reader .TXT) š
Book online Ā«How To Rape A Straight Guy by Sullivan, Michel (phonics reader .TXT) šĀ». Author Sullivan, Michel
I pushed the door open. The lights were bright anā the AC was barely keepinā the room livable. I focused on turninā off the lights. All but one. Ignorinā the area where the bodies lay. Then I found my jeans off to one side, clear of blood. But my shirt was soakinā in it. Didnāt matter; I could make do with one of Wayneās shirts. But I still took it with me. Used it to clean off my shoes. I turned the last light off anā closed the door, leavinā the AC goinā.
I snuck back to the upstairs bedroom. Shayes hadnāt moved. I pulled the jeans on, found one of Wayneās t-shirts anā pulled it on. It was snug but looked like I was tryinā to show off my bod instead of just beinā too small. Thatād work. I grabbed a pair of his socks anā put on my shoes. Anā I was back to beinā Curt, again.
Second off, I needed to get the fuck out of there. So I gently carried Shayes downstairs anā lay him on the couch. Then pulled this āthrow thingā that was on the back of it down over him. Anā then I dug through the whole condo -- every fuckinā room -- lookinā for the keys to the Malibu theyād promised me. I found āem in a side desk drawer, along with over eight hundred in cash. Which made things easier. I looked out the window. The Malibu was parked in front. There was some other shit in the joint that I knew I could hock, but I didnāt feel like takinā the time.
I shoved my bloody shirt into a trash bag then peeked out the front door to see if anything looked scary. There wasnāt anybody anywhere on the street, from what I could tell. I lifted Shayes up, sort of walked him out like youād walk a buddy who was too drunk anā got him down to the car. I sat him in the passenger seat, buckled the seat belt around him, tossed the bag of clothes in the trunk anā was about to get behind the wheel when I froze.
The tapes! The fuckinā videotapes. Lenny had caught it all on camera, from the point where I carried Shayes into the shed to where I killed āem. Cops wouldnāt need a confession if they saw those. Shit!
I scrambled back into the condo anā out to the shed. I almost hesitated -- but I went on in, this time. I ignored their bodies anā yanked the tapes from the cameras. I did a quick once over of the room; it felt even scarier, now. Anā then noticed Shayesā shredded clothes anā shoes. I grabbed them...anā finally remembered to grab his gun anā gym bag from the van. Jesus, that wouldāve been a real dumb-fuck move, leavinā all that behind. I ran back to the car with everything, which joined my clothes in the trash back.
Just as I got behind the wheel, I noticed the shadows of some people approachinā. So I lay his head on my shoulder, put his hand between my legs, started the car, slipped my arm over his shoulder to pull him close anā quietly pulled away. To them -- to all the world -- we looked like lovers out for a drive. It was after midnight when I turned onto Sunset.
I drove over to PCH then up to Santa Barbara. Shayesā head rested on my shoulder the whole way. We passed Zuma Beach, anā it was dark anā empty. Anā I only gave a hint of a response to the memory of my first time there. That was some other century when that happened. Some other lifetime.
Anyway, the drive didnāt take real long. Thatās the one time of life traffic moves easy in So-Cal. The night was cold anā still threateninā rain. Anā the hills ahead anā to the right were black anā the ocean on my left was stormy. Anā for that hour anā a half -- maybe two hour drive...since I wasnāt in a rush...I felt more at peace than Iād felt in years. He was warm beside me. Breathnā soft. Still smelled clean anā alive. I held him close as I could as I drove. Loved the weight of him leaninā against me. I almost kept goinā, it was so nice, but I was back in control anā knew I couldnāt.
Santa Barbara was shut down, as usual. Empty streets leadinā nowhere. All I saw for blocks anā blocks was a couple of drunk college kids anā one or two illegals headinā home on their dinky bikes. Over by the university, it was completely dead. Nothinā alive for acres in every direction.
I lay Shayes on a bus stop bench just before two. There wasnāt anybody around; I made damn sure, but I heard club music playinā nearby. I hated to just dump him there, still blank anā cold anā open to get hurt, some more, anā it about to rain. So I took a book of matches, set one on fire, slipped it into the side of the strikinā area anā dropped it into a trash can, then I lit out in the car. I was two blocks away when the can started burninā. The second I saw it, I headed for Vegas. Anā my heart ripped at me the whole way.
Chapter Eight
Man, the kidnappinā of Officer Shayes was huge fuckinā news in L-A. He had been missed when he didnāt show up for work. Theyād found his car anā the still open trunk anā the hanger of clothes in nothinā flat. In seconds, every cop in the county had been lookinā for him. Shit, every cop in So-Cal was tryinā to find out what happened. Anā
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