Dangerous Liaisons - 11. Chapter 11

Daniel ran. He didn’t know where he was going or why he was running, he just knew that he was filled with a bitter raging anger like he had never known before and, beneath that a fear so keen it would have paralysed him if he hadn’t kept moving. He had to keep moving.

Charlie lived in a seaside town and Daniel arrived at the seafront just as the day life was petering out and the nightlife beginning. Gaggles of girls in short skirts giggled and wiggled along the promenade stalked by men in open-necked shirts with glittering eyes and dirty minds.

It was impossible to run here and so he slowed to a stop and stood for a while, confused and in pain, jostled by the thoughtless, mindless crowds.

On impulse he allowed himself to be carried by the crowd into a nearby bar, a noisy, grimy place with sticky floors and cigarette burns on the badly lacquered tables.

Slipping his hand into his pocket, he fingered the money Charlie had given him. It had come with a lecture, but Charlie could never deny him anything. He needed cigarettes but they wouldn't be of much use right now. Not until he calmed down. He decided to try another way to soothe the raging demon within.

After two pints, with whisky chasers he was feeling a lot mellower and was starting on his third when the girl caught his eye. She was very pretty with long blonde hair and wide blue eyes and was wearing the usual uniform of short skirt and skimpy top which left little to the imagination. She was staring at him in open interest, lust evident in her eyes. He never knew what devil possessed him but he found himself rising from his seat and sliding onto the stool next to her. She smelled of lavender and tobacco.

“Do you want me to buy you a drink?”

She looked slightly surprised, her eyes widening. “You’re very direct aren’t you?”

“Am I? I thought the same about you when you started to undress me with your eyes. I know you liked what you saw so why beat about the bush?”

“You’re very sure of yourself.”

“You think? You’d be surprised how many things I am not sure about right now.” Alarmed by the wistfulness that had crept into his voice he smiled, watching her eyes glaze over slightly from its glare. “One thing I am sure about is that I could do with another drink. How about you?”

Ignoring the remains of his pint he ordered more whisky and a drink for the girl who now seemed stunned and had fallen silent, her eyes wide and fixed on him. Daniel was unsurprised; he often had this effect on people, even now when he looked like shit. He hadn't missed her uncomfortable glances and wrinkled nose, but once he'd given her that smile....

After throwing back another two whiskies and engaging in fifteen minutes of meaningless flirting Daniel pushed away his glass and turned slightly unfocussed eyes on the girl. “Look, let’s cut to the chase. You want me, I want company and I don’t much care who, so what do you say we get out of here?” She said nothing but licked her lips nervously and nodded.

There was a place, underneath the pier, where it was always dark and where no one went unless it was to have fun. It was well known as a place for couples to get down and dirty and this was where Daniel headed, leading the girl by the hand. He did not think about what he was doing, he was not attracted to the girl but he was on a quest... he needed company, he needed to feel, he needed to know.

They had barely got off the promenade when the girl yanked Daniel into her arms and began to kiss him. He had kissed girls before, once or twice but not for a long time and this kiss, tasting of lipstick and bubble gum, came as a shock, as did the apparent weightlessness of the slender form in his arms.

He put his hands on the tiny waist; if he had tried hard enough he could probably have made the fingers meet, and he gently stroked he soft skin between her top and her skirt band. She moaned softly and wiggled against him. Tightening his arms around her he lifted her easily off the ground and, giggling she wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, still locked in the kiss. In this way he carried her towards the pier, slipping and sliding on the loose sand.

When they got there, enfolded in the darkness which was deeper than he had expected, he released her and she slipped to the ground pulling him down with her. His heart was hammering as he lowered his head and kissed her belly. She had her belly button pierced and he took it between his teeth, teasing it gently and plunging his tongue into the navel smiling as he felt her tremble under him. She was so slender, so delicate, it almost felt as though he could snap her in two with one hand if he tried.

He raised his head. In the darkness her fair hair melted into the sand and she was nothing but a dark shadow against the light sand. Smiling he teased her by running his fingers lightly over her skin, making her shiver even more and soft whimpers escaped her parted lips.

Tugging his shirt free of his trousers she slid her hands beneath and ran them over the hard muscles of his chest, raking him with her long nails. He groaned and dug his fingers into the sand.

Laughing lightly the girl pushed him back into the sandy softness and smoothly pulled down the zip of his jeans. He let his head fall back and shuddered, moaning. Tensing in anticipation his breath hissed. Thinking that it was excitement that made his muscles twitch the girl slid her hand down over his stomach and under the waistband of his boxers. He gasped as her questing fingers buried themselves in his soft fur, waiting for a pain that never came.

Her lips found his again, swallowing his sighs, greedy for the whimpers that followed when she grasped him. He was hot, his body on fire with something that could have been arousal and could have been shock and could have been fear.

The tongue which delicately probed his lips was soft and hesitant. The hand which massaged his shaft was small and cool and alien and the breasts which brushed his chest were.... were just... just wrong. Suddenly everything felt wrong. The girl was excited, writhing over him, her breasts rubbing against his chest while she released his cock from the confines of his pants and expertly stroked it, squeezing and releasing her hand... but it was wrong. She was too light, too sweet, smelling of perfume and bubblegum. There was no musk in her scent, no strength in her hand, no weight to her.

He pressed on for a while. His heart wasn’t in it and the girl could tell... no matter how much he moaned and how much he threw himself into the kissing and fondling there were obvious signs that his body just wasn't up for it. Wriggling under him the girl took his hand and pushed it up under her top onto her breast. Closing his fingers convulsively he squeezed the soft mound and she moaned, thrusting her hips into him.

Abruptly Daniel felt sick. What was he doing? What the hell was he doing? This wasn’t right, it just wasn’t right. This was a woman... a woman for the love of the gods. Throwing himself off her he scrabbled backwards in the soft sand until his back hit one of the metal struts that supported the pier. Drawing up his legs he hugged his knees shaking his head.

“I can’t. I’m sorry! I just... I can’t.”

“What the fuck?” The girl was on her knees glaring at him.

“I’m sorry. I’m not... I though I could but... please... please just go.”

The girl was livid, her eyes snapping. “You’re a fucking freak. What the fuck do you think you are doing? Bringing me here and then freaking out and abandoning me. Fuck you...” She ranted on for a while but Daniel wasn’t listening. He was lost, mired in his thoughts, humming with horror at the whole situation.

At last she ran out of words and, staggering to her feet, stormed off. Daniel was unaware. He was still locked in a world of anger and pain, sick to his stomach at what he had done, what he had almost done, what he had felt and, more to the point what he had not felt.

At some stage he must have fallen asleep because he came awake suddenly to a sound. At first he was confused and startled, having no idea where he was or what he was hearing. Then he heard it again... the muffled sounds of a struggle and someone trying to scream.

Instantly alert, Daniel drew himself up. Realising he was still half undressed he quickly tucked in his shirt and fastened his jeans then crouched, probing the darkness with eager eyes until he saw them.

It was pitch black now, inside the shelter and outside on the mainly deserted beach. A clot of darker darkness was moving towards him in a strange, jerky way and he gradually came to realise that it was a group of people, maybe four of them, three of which were manhandling the fourth, who was resisting.

Reaching the pier the struggling figure was slammed against the strut and an unmistakably feminine cry was wrung from her before a hand was clamped over her mouth again.

“For God’s sake keep her quiet, “ one of the other male figures hissed, looking around anxiously. He didn’t see the shadow crouching in the darkness, didn’t hear the low snarl, was aware of nothing at all until, quite suddenly the darkness erupted and all he saw was a dark shape leaping at him before the darkness claimed him.

The second man had more warning but didn’t stand a chance as the snarling figure, barely pausing, leaped up from the fallen body of his friend and, in a flurry or whirling arms and legs dropped him like a stone.

The third man, releasing the girl to fall to her knees on the ground tried to make a run for it but found himself somehow pinned against the promenade wall, a hand at his throat and a pair of burning dark eyes inches from his own.

“You are such a big man aren’t you? You are so brave, so strong, such a big man. Does it make you feel good, terrorising an innocent, helpless woman? What about now? I’m not so helpless am I? Are you feeling big and strong now?”

Eyes wide the man shook his head, drawing back from the burning anger. “Who... who are you?”

“Does it matter?”

“Look... look mate... we were only having a bit of fun. We weren’t going to hurt the bitch, not really.”

“Fun? Really? From where I’m standing it doesn’t look as though she was having much fun.”

“Aw man... we weren’t going to hurt her.” He choked out, Daniel’s hand tightening on his throat.

Daniel was shaking. The temptation to squeeze and keep on squeezing was very strong. There was something inside him that was screaming. On the one hand it was telling him to let go and walk away and, on the other to squeeze, squeeze, squeeze until all the pain and all the anger went away. The two voices fought inside and the man knew well enough to stay silent as the war played out behind his eyes.

In the end with a growl he released the man and flung him to the sand. “Get out of here.”

“Hey, chill man... just chill...”

He looked as if he was going to leg it down the beach but, at the last minute he turned, stooping and then swinging to his feet. Moonlight glittered darkly on something he held in his hand. Dropping into a crouch, his teeth and eyes gleaming, the man grinned.

“Alright pretty boy. The shoe’s on the other foot now. Just try it... come on baby... give it your best shot.”

Daniel stood at ease and looked at him. He was aware of the other two assailants crawling away and making a run for it in the opposite direction, not wanting to be involved in whatever was about to happen. Dragging off an innocent girl for a bit of hanky panky under the pier was one thing but facing an accomplished fighter who seemed to be half mad, especially when weapons were brought into the deal just didn’t appeal to them.

After taking a long, cool, assessing look Daniel turned his back on the man and bent over the girl who was still huddled on the sand. She was sobbing quietly and jumped when she felt Daniel’s light touch on her shoulder.

“It’s alright, you’re safe now. But it would be better if you got out of here. Don’t worry, it will be okay. Get back where it’s safe.”

The girl looked up with wide, terrified eyes, her make up smudged, running down her face, and her clothes torn and dirty. She was clearly terrified but responded to his gentle touch and soft voice. Slowly she swallowed and nodded.

“Hey. You. Pretty boy. Get your ass over here and finish this.”

Daniel ignored him and carried on helping the girl to her feet. He slipped an arm around her and guided her to the edge of the shadows. There were a few people further down the beach and he smiled and pointed her in their direction. She would be safe once she was back with other people.

She turned briefly and gave him a shaky smile, her eyes slipping repeatedly and uneasily over his shoulder. “Thank you. Be careful.”

“I’ll be fine.”

He watched as she stumbled over the sand, towards a party of young people who were building a bonfire much further along the beach, ignoring the insults the lone assailant was hurling at them both from behind. He figured that if the man had not attacked by now he was unlikely to do so any time soon.

As he turned he winced at the sound of smashing glass. The man had grown tired of waiting and decided to increase the temperature by smashing the bottle he was holding in his hand against the pier strut. Daniel smiled at the scream of pain that ensued as the bottle shattered and the man got a palm full of razor sharp shards.

Howling the man staggered and, gripping his wrist, lurched away and was lost in the darkness. Daniel was alone.

Until now he had not been thinking about anything in particular. He had simply been acting and reacting on impulse, high on whisky and adrenaline. Now that the situation had resolved and there was no longer anything to distract him the adrenaline drained away and left him feeling empty and numb. From nowhere his treacherous mind presented him with a clear memory, complete with smell, touch and taste of the recent disastrous liaison with the bubblegum flavoured woman.

Abruptly Daniel’s stomach heaved and he bent double vomiting in the sand. He only just managed to keep on his feet and almost fell to his knees in the middle of it. Shivering he staggered over to the strut and leaned his forehead against it, the coolness of the metal seeping into his fevered brain.

Oh gods... he had almost done it... he had almost slept with a woman. What the hell was he thinking? Insidiously his mind supplied the answer. He wasn't thinking at all. He hadn’t been thinking, not properly, not rationally since the whole thing began. Daniel was a sensuous person and it had been slowly killing him to think that he might never be able to achieve that closeness with anyone ever again. Part of him had wondered whether there were other options and, in that rendezvous he had discovered both that there were and there weren’t.

Physically it appeared that he was perfectly capable of having sex with a woman. The slender hand coupled with the heady scent of perfume and the vastly different ‘feel’ of the person in his arms, had taken the wicked conditioning offline and the caresses had been entirely pain free. From a purely physical point of view there would be nothing at all to stop him from having sex with a woman. From an emotional point of view however, the prospect horrified him.

He had never been attracted to women, never wanted to be, never thought he would be. There was plenty of interest, true; there always had been. Throughout his life there had been plenty of girls who would have been more than happy to share his bed if not his heart. Once or twice matters had gone as far as heavy kissing and petting sessions but, frankly women did nothing for him. They were soft and yielding and small and fragile and... wrong. He quite simply did not get turned on by them, by anything about them... the way they looked, the way they spoke, the way the smelled, the way they tasted... nothing.

Was this to be the way it would be for him from now on? If he wanted physical closeness would he have to compromise everything that made him what he was? Would he have to change after all?

“No.” The strangled cry echoed off the dull metal and he collapsed to the ground, sobbing.

For a long time he had raged, sworn and cursed the beast who had damaged him, taken from him something that was as important as the food he ate, the air he breathed. He had been angry and determined and he was DAMNED if he would let that man defeat him. Then slowly, when nothing changed, when there was nothing he could do to get past the pain, when it started to come simply from the memory of a touch, he began to lose heart, to lose focus, to lose hope.

There had been nights when he had fought the demon so hard and for so long that Charlie, summoned by the screams, had found him semi conscious and delirious, ranting about blood and claws tearing at him. But those nights had gone and now he lay awake feeling a great emptiness within. He no longer tried to fight the pain, he couldn’t find the courage to face it or even think of it, of anything that triggered it. As much as he hated to admit it the Rev Shaw was winning... had won.

Suddenly he was exhausted and he let himself sink to the ground on hands and knees. A sharp pain in his hand brought him shockingly back to the present and he drew back his hand with a hiss to find a large triangle of dark glass embedded in his palm. He stared at it for a moment and then, not knowing why, not having any ability or desire to stop himself he closed his fingers and squeezed.

The pain was sudden and sharp and, somehow clean. It blotted out the heavier, duller pain that filled him, that had possessed him ever since that day, with Josh. Josh... for a moment, a brief flash, he saw Josh’s face, the concern in his eyes, the love, but he shook his head and thrust it away, opening his hand and watching the blood rise from the deep wound in his palm and run down his fingers from the slices there.

Mesmerised by the dark pool in the palm of his hand he tilted it and let the liquid trickle over the side to splash onto the sand. Splash... splash... splash. There was something about the feel of the blood trickling over his hand that soothed him, relaxed him, released the fear, the pain. With wide eyes he watched the blood until he was completely calm and... strangely empty. There was a void inside him, a deep black hole and he felt as though he was standing on the edge of it looking down into infinity.

It would be so easy to take a step, so easy to fall into that never ending darkness. There would be no more pain, no more fear, no more despair... just cool, silent, empty darkness. A wave of weariness swept over him and he closed his eyes for a moment, a strange sinking feeling taking possession of him, as though he was already in the hole and falling, falling, falling.

He opened his eyes with a gasp as he felt a sharp pain in his wrist and stared with surprise to find that he was holding the shard of glass in numb, trembling fingers, pressed against the inside of his wrist, hard enough to draw blood. For a moment he was terrified, horrified by what he was doing but he didn’t move the glass.

A numbness spread over him, a sweet lassitude that soothed away the fear until all that was left was a great weariness and a gnawing desire for it all to be over, the struggle ended, to rest. Tears began to flow down his face but he barely noticed them. His focus was wholly on the glass. Just a little further, a little more pressure and there would be peace.

He closed his eyes again and pressed the glass deeper welcoming the pain. Soon there would be no more pain. He had been so afraid, so desperate. He had not thought that he would ever be able to escape the pain, the fear, the despair; he had been wrong. There was a way to escape; he held it in his hand. And who would care? At the end of the day he was nothing but trouble to them all. Sure they would be upset, for a time. They would cry and talk about him in hushed voices... and then they would get over it and get on with their lives and forget about him.

Josh would be gutted but...

“Josh.” Abruptly the image of Josh’s face appeared in his mind’s eye, his face twisted with grief and his eyes swollen and red with crying. He ached to reach out and take him into his arms but he couldn’t; he wasn’t there. The notion occurred to him that Josh would never forget him, would never get over losing him. He remembered the cry in the garden, the smashed cups, and the look on the face he loved more than any other on the planet. He remembered the helplessness he felt when he held Josh in his arms and told him that it was over, that everything was going to be alright. At that point he had believed it.

But Josh was... Josh was... well he was Josh. He had driven all the way down here to find him, to be with him, to help him. His fingers slackened on the shard but did not release it. Josh was everything to him. There had never been anyone like Josh, could never be anyone like him. They were meant to be together. People wasted their whole lives looking for a love like this. Josh would never forget, never get over it. Josh would never forgive him.

But he couldn’t love Josh... not any more. They were doomed anyway. He had tried everything he could to get over this thing and had got to the stage where he could no longer bear to even think about it. He couldn’t bear the pain any more. He had fought so hard but it had overwhelmed him and he couldn’t fight any more. Convulsively his fingers tightened and again he gasped as the glass bit into his flesh. He could feel the blood now, running down his arm, joining that which still pooled in his hand. The stain on the sand was growing.

Squeezing his eyes shut he gritted his teeth. Do it. Do it. Just a little further, just a little more. It would be easy. He would fall asleep with the sound of the ocean in his ears, the sharp see breeze on his face and the scent of blood in his nostrils and then there would be peace... forever... eternally... eternal peace.

The thought of peace was so appealing that it very nearly drove him to take the last step, to slice downwards, to fall. And yet... and yet...

“Josh.” The word was a moan, a cry of anguish and of pain. If he died; if he ended it here and now he would never see Josh again and Josh would live on knowing he had failed, that they had both failed. But Josh would get over it. He would move on and find someone else who would be whole and undamaged. And Daniel would never hold him in his arms again, never kiss his lips, look into those godsdamned beautiful eyes, never hear his voice never...

Back and forth he swung between certainty and doubt, life and death until finally exhaustion overcame him. The glass slid from fingers which were numb and slippery with blood and he had no energy to retrieve it. For a while longer he knelt in the bloody sand, his head bowed, and then he slowly slid sideways and sprawled in the shadows staring into the darkness until it claimed him.