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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Breakdown - 30. 28 Trap

For long moments, all Cam could do was gawp at the gleaming red phone that sat with inanimate indifference on the counter. It had landed face up, about two feet from the box. It had almost toppled onto the floor, but friction had granted it mercy and stopped it precariously on the edge of the counter.

He didn’t hear Gabriel’s questions, in fact, his drawn face did nothing; the only movement was in his gawping mouth and throbbing Adam’s apple. When Gabriel seized him by the shoulders and shook him violently, Cam almost screamed in fear.

“Cameron!” Gabriel shouted into his face. Cam’s wild green eyes found Gabriel’s, and he struggled to find words. His body was wound completely tight under Gabriel’s fingers.

“Oh God,” Cam whispered, the only thing he could think to choke out.

“Cam, what’s wrong? It’s just a phone,” Gabriel observed, glancing back at the little red creature that clung to the edge of the counter. Gabriel reached for the phone, and Cam shrieked, galvanized into action and slapping the phone viciously out of Gabriel’s reach. The little plastic creature skittered back across the counter and into the living room, landing with a sound thunk somewhere unseen.

Gabriel, now fully alarmed at Cameron’s bizarre reaction to something that appeared so innocent, strengthened his resolve and gave Cameron a sound smack across the cheek. Cameron stopped, looking at Gabriel with a mix of hurt and fear, his hand going to his cheek. It had the desired effect, Cam focused on Gabriel.

“To make you listen to me,” Gabriel said firmly. “Cameron, what’s going on? What’s the phone all about?”

Cam visibly paled at the mention of the phone. “I… I …”

Gabriel felt sorry for him; obviously he was terrified. Gently, he pulled him into his arms and kissed his forehead. “Cam, whatever it is, we’ll deal with it, okay? It can’t be as bad as you’re making it out to be.”

Cam clung to Gabriel, his arms going around his waist and holding on for dear life. He bit his lip; he couldn’t tell Gabriel about Aziel that would just endanger him.

How had he found him? Cam had been so careful… All this time, Cam had been relaxing, feeling pretty good about himself and the job that he’d done covering his tracks, and Aziel had just been biding his time.

The mix of emotions in Cameron’s gut threatened to bring his stomach to his lips. He choked, felt it rise, and broke from Gabriel’s embrace violently. He dashed the three steps to the sink and heaved, but nothing came up. Shaking, he felt Gabriel’s warm hands on his back, comforting him.

“Cam…”

“Gabe,” Cam whispered, his lips trembling. He looked over at him. “Believe me when I tell you that I can’t explain… I can’t begin to explain this.”

Gabriel watched him silently. He looked like he was bristling with a thousand questions, and in truth, he was, but he kept his peace at Cam’s pleading expression. What could be so bad about a cell phone that it would almost make you throw up?

Trembling, Cam made his way over to a chair and slumped in it. He ran his hands through his blonde hair, wondering what he should do. Should he run? If he ran, Aziel would probably just find him again…

A shrill cry from the living room made both Cam and Gabriel look up.

“The phone,” Gabriel said softly.

Cam, finding the strength that he didn’t know he had, leapt out of his seat and loped into the living room. Tears starting to run down his cheeks, he fished out the phone from under the couch. He glanced at the call display and his heart sank.

It was Jared’s phone number.

Shaking, Cam opened the phone. He wheezed something out that wasn’t quite a greeting; a husky ‘hello’ lacking all the letters in coherent order. Cameron was aware that Gabriel was standing behind him, attempting to listen in.

“Hello, Cameron,” the smooth, cool voice greeted. Cam whimpered a little, and the voice continued. “You’ve been very bad. I gave you everything you could possibly want, and you ran away. I must admit, it did take me a while to find you. Annoying, really. So, I would take note of this phone number. Take note and realize exactly what that means.”

Cam shivered. “Jesus, no…”

“Secondly, before you decide to run off again, I would consider that you have a lot more invested here than you did before. It would be a shame to have to send you bloody glasses,” the voice said, cold and heartless. Cam paled, glancing at Gabriel.

“O-okay.”

“If you behave, everything will continue as it did before,” he continued. “I suggest you be ready at 9:45 tomorrow night.”

“Yes,” he answered, his voice dry and rasping.

The phone clicked. The dead air hung like poison in Cam’s ear. He pulled the phone away and looked at the number that was blinking in the center of the screen. He was sure it was Jared’s, and Cam had no reason to believe that Aziel wasn’t completely capable of something like that…

Choking out a cry, Cam sunk onto the couch, feeling like the life had gone out of him. Gabriel’s arms were unable to comfort him, and Cam stolidly refused to explain what had upset him so.

“I think you should go home,” Cam said softly. “I think I need to be by myself for a while.”

Gabriel shook his head. “I’m not leaving you when you’re this upset,” Gabriel answered. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up and into bed, okay?” Gabriel was feeling completely at a loss; he didn’t know how to fix what was wrong, and Cam was being incredibly stubborn about the details. Gabriel did notice that once Cam picked up the little red phone, he had outright refused to put it down, as if he feared that Gabriel would try to touch it again. It was as if the object of his disgust had suddenly become the object of comfort.

Cam’s stubbornness ended at telling his story, however. He allowed Gabriel to stay, saying nothing more to send him away. Gabriel managed to get him to the bathroom and get him to brush his teeth. Cam was sullen and distant through the procedure, and Gabriel could do nothing more than offer soft words of comfort.

Curling up beside Cam in bed, Gabriel had never felt farther away from someone. Cam stared up at the ceiling, his green eyes glistening in the low light. Gabriel took him into his arms, pulling Cam’s cheek against his chest. There were a thousand things he wanted to say, a million questions that were running around in his mind. He wanted to tell Cam to go to the police, but had a sinking feeling that this might be beyond the help of the law…

It was the longest night of his life, lying with Cam dozing fitfully on his chest. Gabriel felt that sleep was going to be wishful thinking; the terror in Cam’s voice and eyes had been unmistakable. How could a phone call make someone so scared? Was this something out of Cam’s past, perhaps something to do with the drugs? Maybe Cam had escaped on paying someone what they were owed. Was he in a gang? The mob? Gabriel’s mind flitted to all possible ideas, and he arrived at no decent conclusion. A long night of watching the streetlights on the road below and the flicking pulse of dawn rise behind the tall buildings of downtown.

Aziel smiled to himself, watching through the slit in the blinds. The lights in Cam’s apartment were off now, and he hadn’t seen the other man leave. He knew the layout of the apartment; he’d already managed to break in and have a look at things. Cam had set himself up pretty well; he’d grown some balls in the time that he’d been away.

The assassin took down his binoculars and considered, alone in the darkness of the apartment across the street. The owner of this apartment was dozing deeply in his bed, enough tranquilizers in him to keep him under for another three hours, at least. Aziel, of course, didn’t intent on staying another three hours. He had come to do what he needed to do and had no reason to linger.

Methodically, Aziel packed up his belongings. He had brought with him one of his heavy blue bags. There were no weapons on him currently, for tonight’s excursion had not been one of violence. He smiled to himself as he did a final inventory of his belongings. Satisfied that nothing would be left behind for the other to suspect, he exited the apartment and relocked the door. The fat man would wake up with a vicious headache tomorrow, but he would probably blame that on the vast quantity of drink that he had ingested prior to bed.

Disgusting, the assassin thought. Disgusting that these people were allowed to continue to wallow in such a horrible state. Of course, he was hardly interested in such social concerns, but occasionally it irritated him.

Aziel had been in town for a week. He had set up a penthouse suite in the downtown area and purchased furniture for it. As he had explained to Mark, he was going to be doing a lot of business out of Minneapolis and wanted a nice place to stay while he was there. Explaining the rising cost of real estate and how it would be a worthwhile investment would have gone completely over Mark’s head; as long as Aziel said it was a good idea, Mark seldom argued.

In a way, Aziel was blessed with Mark. He was curious, yes, but not overly. His trust was absolute; when he had asked Aziel what lay in the locked room where Aziel’s lab was, Aziel had said it was his stash of private and sensitive documents, and Mark had never said anything else about it. Once or twice he complained casually about a peculiar smell from the room, but Aziel had installed a heavy-duty fume hood to alleviate that problem.

It was the same with the computer. On the rare occurrences when Mark had caught Aziel in the middle of something in the study, he had shrugged the occasion off, buying Aziel’s excuse, whatever it had been.

Mark. That was why all of this was necessary.

What a wrench he had thrown into the equation. Aziel had been perfectly content to do things his own way, taking jobs as they came and for the most part ignoring the social animal that was the human race. It seemed to be the best way to keep his privacy and to maintain professionalism with his job.

Now, there were layers upon layers to his life. So many lies, so many excuses, and so many different emotions that he couldn’t quite express. The assassin sometimes laughed to himself, when no one was around, at the thought of being in love.

The assassin loaded his belongings into the rented car. Satisfied with a job well done for tonight, the assassin drove back to his penthouse, eager for a good night’s sleep to prepare for the day ahead.

It had been a long time since he had checked in on his experiment, and he was eager to see what kind of progress he had made…

Copyright © 2010 Archangel_of_Pain; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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