As Billy pulled into his garage one night after work, the goon stepped out of the shadows and opened his car door.
“Fifty,” he said, and Billy got out and complied.
“Jacket,” the goon said, and Billy gave it to him.
“Tie.” Billy handed it over.
“Shirt.” Billy took it off.
“In my right jacket pocket,” Billy said. “On my key ring.
The goon nodded. He wasn’t masked, but in the dark garage, Billy couldn’t clearly see his face.
“Flat on the back seat,” the goon ordered next, opening that door. Billy bent his knees to fit.
Soon the goon was driving them along the dark streets. Billy trusted the man with his car as completely as he did with his body, and less than ten minutes later, the goon parked.
“Out,” he said, opening the rear door. Billy got out.
Billy was naked. The goon slammed the door, sealing in the pile of his clothes.
“Walk,” he ordered, facing Billy towards a dark field, and for maybe a minute, they walked between tall rows of corn.
“Fifty,” the goon said at a far fence, and Billy dropped. Done, the goon flattened Billy in the dirt with one shoe planted between his shoulders.
“I heard a funny story the other day,” the goon began. “From a friend. He went out to fix a guy’s flat and ended up getting laid. You allowed to do that?”
Before Billy could answer, the goon put his other shoe on Billy’s butt. Then he bounced.
“Ow!” Billy hollered.
The goon bounced again.
“You’re gonna break my back!” Billy insisted.
The goon bounced in reply. Then he unzipped, and even in the dim light, Billy could see him putting on a rubber. Then he flattened himself, using Billy as a cushion, and took the boy from behind.
Just long enough later for them both to be satisfied, standing over Billy, the goon said, “Now you stay there for ten minutes. Not nine. Not eleven. And if you get it right – maybe – I’ll let you ride home in your trunk.”
Billy heard the goon walk off and started counting the seconds, timing them from his pulse. When he was sure he had it right, he walked to the road. But the goon and his car were gone.