Read Rentboy Online

Authors: Fyn Alexander

Tags: #Mystery, #Humour, #Gay, #Contemporary, #Romance, #Suspense, #erotic romance

Rentboy (21 page)

The boss threw Fox a glare. “I’ve told you not to wear that makeup at work. Can you cover the whole shift on your own? It’s only a couple more hours. I’ve been looking for an excuse to fire that lad. He’s useless, and he eats the merchandise and doesn’t pay. I watch the CCTV, you know.”

“No problem,” Fox said.

With a filthy look at Fox, Aubrey threw his apron on the floor and opened the door. “He’s a queer!”

“As long as he doesn’t make passes at the customers, I don’t care,” the boss said. “Sorry, father. Give him a cupcake on the house,” he said to Fox. He followed Aubrey outside as Fox broke into giggles.

“Now that was an answer to a prayer. Do you want chocolate or lemon?”

“Let’s try the lemon.” The vicar rubbed his hands together, looking really excited at the prospect of a free cake.

With great care, Fox placed an iced lemon cupcake on a plate with a paper serviette. Aubrey was gone, and despite all the other shit in his life, Fox felt a moment of delirious happiness. “I’m a wicked boy, vicar.” He sat down with him again.

Happily peeling the paper off the cupcake, the vicar said, “Somehow I don’t think so. Would you like me to go with you to your boyfriend and help you make up with him? I’m rather good at relationship counseling. I counsel couples before they get married.”

“What would you know about relationships?” Fox asked. “You’ve never even had sex.”

“No, no. That’s the Catholics. I keep telling you. The Church of England is different. I’ve been married for five years.”

“To a woman?” Fox asked.

“Yes, but it’s all the same in the end, isn’t it? Respect, compromise, honesty.”

“That’s the problem. I haven’t been honest,” Fox said. “And I’m not sure he even believes in God. He’s a scientist.”

“It’s not necessary that either of you believe in God to have a little counseling. But if you change your mind…” He licked his fingers before delving into his pocket for his card. “You can reach me there. St. Luke the Apostle. The rectory is beside the church. My wife’s name is Gemma.” He picked up his cake and took a big bite, so obviously enjoying it that it made Fox smile and like him even more.

It was like watching the twins enjoy themselves. It always made him feel good.

“I don’t think we’ve ever introduced ourselves. I’m Godfrey Rooke.” He stuck out a hand with crumbs and icing on his fingers, then laughed and withdrew it to wipe up with the napkin.

Laughter erupted from Fox. “God for short.”

“Ridiculous, isn’t it?”

“I’m Fox Baillie.” They shook hands. “Actually maybe a bit of counseling would help. He won’t listen to me.”

The man’s smile was lovely. “Gladly! I could help you on Saturday if you like.”

“But he’s not speaking to me. He’s angry with me because I lied to him. But I only lied because I had no choice.”

Godfrey swallowed his last bit of cake. “What if I come with you to his home? Most people are far too polite to turn away a vicar. Where does he live?”

Fox scribbled down Eddie’s address on his order pad, tore off the sheet, and handed it over. “This could be a disaster. It could make things worse.”

“God works in mysterious ways, Fox.” Godfrey rose and ambled to the door. “I’d better get going. Thank you for the treats. See you on Saturday at, what? Two?”

“Saturday at two.” Fox waved him off.

I’m insane. Of course it won’t work. Eddie will be furious. Counseling with some straight vicar indeed!

What had he got himself into?

“Two skinny lattes, please.” Fox looked up to see a couple of girls with blonde hair and deep tans.

“Coming right up, ladies.”

Chapter Thirteen

Fortified with the encouragement of his father, Edward walked into Dr. Crispin Howard’s office a little before noon. Staring down at a paper on his desk, Howard ignored him. Edward suspected there was nothing of importance in the paper. It was merely Howard’s way of saying,
I am more important than you, so you can wait
. After about thirty seconds, Edward coughed pointedly. Howard then raised one finger in a gesture even Edward could read as,
Wait, I’m busy.

“Oh, for God’s sake. You are not the only one with things to do!” Edward was getting good at this. No more was he going to let people walk all over him. Perhaps he was still clueless about the finer points of human interaction, but he was definitely catching on to people being rude and self-important.

Howard looked at him over the top of his pretentious half-frame reading glasses. “Just leave the information and go about your day, Dr. Atherton.”

“I’m not giving you or anyone the data on the lethal version of Lintrane. I destroyed it because it’s dangerous, and I don’t want any errors made in the production process. You have all the information you need for Comtrex.”

“I’d strongly advise you change your mind about that,” Howard stated.

“I’m not changing my mind. I’ve decided what’s best, and I will not be persuaded to change.”

“You are making a mistake, Atherton.”

With as much attitude as he could manage for one so gawky, Edward turned on his heel and marched to the door. If only half of what Fox said was true, the man was despicable. His lack of morals where ladies were concerned was something Edward was already aware of, but this was in a different league. All he knew for certain was he could not trust this man, and he would take no risks with the lives of innocent Ugandans.

Looking at Howard, he said, “It’s
Dr
. Atherton.” With that he walked out into the corridor, and for some reason all he could see was Fox saying,
Yes!

* * * *

There was a row of doorbells to the right of the front door on Great Russell Street. Fox pressed the one stating Dr. E. J. Atherton. He did not expect a great reception from Eddie, but he hoped at least he would be listened to and that Godfrey, when he arrived, might be a calming influence. After deciding he had better explain to Eddie why Godfrey was there in the first place, he arrived ten minutes before two o’clock. He would tell Eddie they were going to have some counseling, and then Godfrey would arrive to facilitate it.

It was boiling out. He really needed to stop slashing the hell out of his arms if for no other reason than to wear short sleeves on a day like this.

The moment the door opened, Eddie looked into his eyes and said, “What do you want? You look like a vampire.”

The long-sleeved black shirt with lace at the cuffs and running down the front was reminiscent of a vampire, especially when worn with black skinny jeans and knee-high riding boots. “I know. Can we talk?”

“I talk. You lie.” Eddie looked him up and down. “Aren’t you hot?” Eddie wore shorts, his skinny, hairy legs so pale they looked like warning lights.

“Yeah, I’m fucking boiling, but let me tell you, Eddie, shorts with socks and lace-up shoes are a fashion disaster.”

“I’ll take note of that. And just so you know, I refused to give Howard the data on the dangerous version of Lintrane, so your father or Idi Amin or someone equally barbarous is probably going to kill me in the next twenty-four hours. Now what do you want?”

After that last statement it seemed a bit weak saying, “I want to talk about our relationship.”

“We don’t have one,” Eddie said without margin.

“We could. Please, let’s talk. I’m so sorry for all the lies. I was just trying to protect the twins.”

“Don’t bring the twins into this. For all I know your father adores them. First he was a dead war hero. Then he was out to kill you all in your sleep, and he beats the twins. Do you actually know what the truth is, Fox? Is Fox your real name, by the way, or is it something else entirely?”

Looking up into Eddie’s tense, angry face, Fox said very quietly, “My name’s Afton. But I’ve always been called Fox. I live in Finchley with my alcoholic mother and my violent ex-army father and the twins who are probably brain damaged because my dad thrashed the shit out of them for crying when they were a year old.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me that in the first place?” Eddie asked, softening slightly.

The angle at which Fox had to hold his head in order to look up at Eddie was starting to hurt. Eddie was already six inches taller than him, and Fox was standing a step down. “Because I was supposed to steal your computer and never see you again. Can I come in, or can you come out so I’m not craning like this?

Eddie came outside and down the steps onto the street so Fox could look him in the eyes. “Why did you see me again?”

“Eddie, I…”

On the street directly in front of the house a sleek black car slid to a halt. Fox turned to see three men he had never seen before get out. They moved slowly as if in no hurry. All three were as dark-skinned as Mr. Maputwa. They wore black clothing and dark glasses.

“Fuck!”

The fact that Eddie had sworn was nearly as shocking as the appearance of the men. In less than two seconds one of them grabbed Fox in a body hug and threw him aside. From the hot pavement he watched two of the men grab Eddie by the arms, but he was ready for them.

With what seemed like gargantuan strength, Eddie wrenched his arms from their grip, then went after them with kicks and karate chops. The men obviously did not anticipate Eddie’s expertise at self-defense, and in the few seconds they were thrown into confusion Eddie grabbed Fox by the arm, dragged him to his feet and inside the house. He slammed and locked the door before scrambling up the stairs, pushing Fox ahead of him.

In the flat he locked the door and then dragged his desk across the room to jam in front of it.

Fox ran to the window. “Don’t panic. They’re going.”

Panting, his face scarlet with exertion, Eddie hurried to the window in time to see the car disappear down the road as quickly as it had arrived.

“Sorry, Eddie.” Fox looked up at him. With his hands he wiped the sweat running down Eddie’s face.

“They’ll be back. I’m not safe here.”

“We have to call the police,” Fox said. “Not that they’ll believe us. Who would?” He reached out both arms and wrapped them tightly around Eddie’s chest, pressing his cheek into his shoulder.

With two strong hands on his upper arms, Eddie pushed Fox forcefully away. “You’d better go. I’m going to get out of here until I know what to do next.”

Stung by the rejection but not surprised, Fox made no further attempt to touch him. “Where will you go?”

“I’m hardly going to tell you, am I? Your father is a psychotic nut, and according to you, if he wants you to do something, he’ll beat you into submission. I need to stay as far away from you as possible. You’re in on this whole thing.”

“Why the hell would I be in on it?” Fox asked. “I’ve admitted I stole your computer for them, but that’s where it ends.”

“So it’s just a coincidence that you knocked on my door at the same moment that those thugs arrive and try to kidnap me?”

“Yes!”

“Pull the other one; it’s got bells on,” Eddie said. “You got me outside for them. I want you to leave. And actually I might just as well tell you, I’m going to join my parents in Paris to give myself a breather.” Eddie dragged the desk away from the door. He was about to open it but hesitated.

Poor bloke was scared shitless.

Then with a look of determination he opened it. “Out!”

Fox stepped outside, and Eddie slammed the door behind him. A moment later Fox heard the scraping of the desk and a thump as it hit the door.

His life had always been crazy living with his parents, but this! It had suddenly become insane. Dudes looking like the Men in Black were trying to kidnap his boyfriend—ex-boyfriend—while he was asking a vicar to do relationship counseling with them. No wonder Eddie was pissed with him.

On the street he looked left and right. No sign of the car. It was either the police or talk to William Baillie and try to negotiate with him to keep Eddie safe.

“Fox.” Godfrey appeared before Fox so suddenly he bumped into him. “What’s going on?”

“Er… He wasn’t there.”

“He was there. I saw everything. It all happened in seconds, but I saw those men in the car and the fight that ensued. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on.”

“I’ve got to go home. Sorry, God.” He took off at a run past Bloomsbury Square toward Holborn Station.

Forty-five minutes later, Fox ran up the sweeping drive to the house. He had his key in his hand from the moment he alighted the bus. Thrusting it into the lock, he hurried inside and directly to William Baillie’s office. It was empty. At the desk he looked for his father’s guns, but they weren’t there. “Aliens!” he called out, running through the house. After not finding them, he took the stairs two at a time. They were in bed asleep. They often took an afternoon nap.

Fox opened the door of his mother’s bedroom. The curtains were open, and she lay awake, looking at him. “Where have you been, Afton? The twins were asking for you.”

“They asked?” That didn’t sound right.

“Not with words. They came in looking for you. Your dad was charging around the house like a maniac, and they were scared. You know how they get when he’s home.”

“I know how we all get.” Fox sat down on the side of the bed. “Where is he?”

Tara smiled. “He’s gone for a while. Off to Uganda, he said, to do security work for one of them big British companies out there.”

“He’s a lying bastard. He works as a mercenary soldier for rebel groups and military dictatorships all over the world. That’s how he affords this big house and your booze.” More quietly he said, “Not to mention my school fees.”

“Is he still helping people, like when he was in the army?” Tara asked hopefully.

“Oh, Mum.” Fox sank his head into his hands. She neither knew nor cared what her husband did as long as the credit card worked when she phoned the off-license for more booze. “I need to talk to him about something. Did he say how long he’d be gone?”

“He said a few weeks.” She broke into a spontaneous smile. “It might be longer if we’re lucky. Do you remember”—she dropped her voice—“you said you were going to get rid of him.”

“I’ve tried. I just don’t have it in me. I don’t think I do, anyway. You know how he’s a killer; it’s just in him. It’s who he is. It’s not who I am. I’ll have to find another way. I just don’t know what yet. But I will get rid of him somehow. I promise.”

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