Date: Tue, 17 Jan 2012 20:18:16 +0100
From: Micheal Mikey <michealwitluv@gmail.com>
Subject: The Game He Lost 3

The Surprise

    Abe pointed out the electric sockets over his postage stamp-size
counter and in the corner above the baseboard, and then stepped to the side
as Finn squeezed past him. Finn's sleeve brushed his arm, and he inhaled a
scent that reminded him of an April sunrise; sharp, earthy, restless, and
filled with the promise of warmth. The fine hairs on his arm tingled.

     He pressed his hands to his stomach, trying to calm the butterflies
that were dancing there. No, they were probably moths. With crusty brown
singe marks on the edges of their wings.

     He wished he could blame the tickle of excitement on hunger -- he
was growing later by the minute for dinner and his surprise party -- but
if it was hunger, it was a kind that couldn't be satisfied with food.

     This was a superficial physical attraction, that's all; a natural
reaction to a physically appealing man. After all, he was gay man in his
sexual prime, right? But he had taken a detour down that road and knew
better than to trust it. He didn't want to acknowledge the bump of his
pulse each time he looked at Finn. He should be ignoring his appearance and
regarding him with the same polite, professional distance with which he
treated the building superintendent or the cable guy or the men who had
delivered his new sofa.

     Then why couldn't he? Was it the sense of intimacy from the
semidarkness, or was it the way Finn moved? It wasn't only Finn's
appearance that drew him. For a large man, Finn was light on his feet. He
had the total body control of a dancer, making each movement a smoothly
coordinated sequence of toned muscles working in harmony. Abe could easily
imagine the way Finn would be flexing and bulging under that soft flannel
shirt and those snug jeans...

     But he shouldn't. No, he wasn't going to picture Finn's muscles or
anything else for that matter. He wasn't going to watch as Finn hitched up
his tool belt and leaned over to look in the corner under the table...even
if he did have the firmest, most perfectly formed set of buns he had ever
seen.

     "No luck in here," Finn said straightening up. "Where is your
bedroom?"

     The kitchen seemed to shrink as Finn moved past him. Considering
Finn's height and the breath of his shoulders, he should have felt
uncomfortable to be men.

     It must have been the way Finn had mentioned his nephews. Any man who
willingly claimed he liked children couldn't be all bad. He was a history
buff too, which meant that they had something in common. Finn took his job
seriously, so he was a hard worker and would be a good provider. He was
hurrying because he didn't want to disappoint his parent. Everything he had
said would lead an unbiased, unprejudiced observer to assume that he was a
nice, stable, family-oriented guy. Exactly the kind of man Abe hoped to
marry someday...

     Abe grimaced, chagrined by the direction of his thoughts. Marriage was
on his brain because of today's date, but he wasn't pathetic enough to
think Finn really could be a karmic birthday gift; was he?

     Finn spent even less time checking the outlets in his bedroom than he
had in the kitchen. It couldn't have been two minutes before me moved on to
his bathroom. He had to duck his head to get past the spider plant that Abe
had hung from the ceiling. "Nothing here, either," Finn said. "Maybe in the
living room after all."

     His pace was increasing -- it seemed that he had barely touched
those plugs in the bathroom. He must be anxious to finish up so he could go
home, as he had said. He muttered something under his breath as he ran into
the avocado plant again.

     "I'll have to move the fig tree if you want to check the outlet beside
the balcony door." Abe said. "The pot would be in the way."

     "No, I can get it."

     "Better let me. It's a bit finicky. It's been dropping leaves lately,
so I have to be careful how I handle it." He went to Finn's side and leaned
down to grab the edge of the pot. It had just started to slide across the
carpet when he heard Finn make a sudden exclamation.

     "Got it."

     He turned his head. Finn was crouched beside him and his face was
level with Finn's, so he had a close up view of the smile that flickered
over Finn's face. It wasn't charming or friendly like the other ones he had
seen. It was ...hard.

     Finn caught his gaze, and his smile instantly eased.

     It had been a trick of the lighting, Abe decided. Anyone's face could
look hard when it was lit by a flashlight from below, as all kids who had
ever told a ghost story around a campfire knew.

     "Okay, I'm almost done." Finn pushed aside Abe's leather bag and the
stray backpack that he had dropped beside the plant and then slid his
screwdriver into a slot in his tool belt.

     "I'll need to open up the electric box here, so, for your own safety,
I'm going to ask you to leave the apartment now."

     Abe sat back on his heels. A fig leaf wafted downward and settled on
his lap. "What do you mean?"

     "It's routine, in case something goes wrong. The power company would
be held liable if you got accidentally injured while I was doing repairs."

     "I can't see why I need to leave. That seems excessive. I'll just
stand out of the way and..."

     "I'm sorry, sir, but you are going to have to leave."

     "If it's that dangerous, shouldn't you be wearing protective clothing
or something?"

     "Don't worry about me, I'm a trained professional." Finn placed his
hand on Abe's elbow and gently but firmly helped him stand up.

     Abe looked at the place where Finn held his arm... although, he didn't
really need to look because he felt what Finn was doing with every of his
senses.

     "It will only take a few minutes," he said. "I know you are in as much
of a hurry as I am, so I would appreciate your cooperation."

     Before Abe could form a reply, there was a sudden commotion from the
corridor outside his apartment; men's voices raised in anger.

     "Hey, take it easy," someone shouted. "Watch where you are going."

     "Get out of my way, idiot," a heavily accented voice said.

     "You could have broken my nose, slamming through the doorway like
that."

     There was a spurt of muttered words that Abe couldn't make out. They
sounded foreign.

     Finn tightened his grip on his elbow and pulled him toward the
door. "Please, Mister. You are going to have to get out," he said. "Right
now."

     "But I can't just..."

     Something heavy slammed into his apartment door.

     "Oh, my God," Abe said. "They are fighting out there. The blackout
must be making them panic."

     Finn switched direction pulling Abe back toward the balcony
door. "They are coming in; we are going to use the balcony door."

     "What?" Abe tried to tug his arm free, but Finn's fingers couldn't be
budged. "Who's coming in? What do you mean we have to use..."

     Something hit Abe's door again. There was a sharp shattering sound.

     Finn shoved the fig tree to one side with his foot and lunged for the
balcony door. It slid open only a few inches before it was stopped dead by
the broom handle Abe kept for security reasons in the sliding door's track.

     "What are you doing?" he said.

     The apartment door burst inward and slammed against the wall. Three
men rushed in.

     Before Abe could draw breath to say a word, Finn spun him behind
him. "Get down," he ordered.

     Abe hadn't meant to obey him -- he hadn't even registered what Finn
had said -- but he stumbled over the fig tree and lost his footing, going
down to his knees anyway. More leaves rained down around him.

     The intruders were silhouetted against the emergency lighting from the
corridor. The men were black; two were short and one appeared to be holding
a...

     "Oh, my God, he's got a gun," Abe said.

     The words had barely left his mouth when Finn made a sudden
movement. The flashlight he had been holding hurtled across the room and
struck the armed man in the wrist: his gun fell into the avocado plant.

     They must be looters, Abe thought, groping on the floor for his
bag. He had heard of looting in prolonged power failures, but he had never
dreamed it could happen so fast, and in his building.

     The two short men babbled something incompressible and took out more
guns. Abe saw the metal gleam in the light from the hall and screamed a
warning to Finn.

     Instead of retreating, Finn advanced on the intruders. He unbuckled
his tool belt, hung on to one end and whirled it through the air. The
heavy, tool-laden, hard leather pouch was suddenly a weapon. It made a
clinking thud as it connected with the closet man's head.

     The man crumpled and fell on the floor. Finn swung the tool belt
again, dispatching a second man with the same brutal speed.

     Abe clutched his purse to his chest and scooted backward, his shoes
sliding through the leaves that now littered the carpet. What had happened
to the nice, stable guy who liked children and had dinner with his parents?
He was fighting off three armed looters all by himself, as if he did that
kind of thing every day.

     The tall man, the one Finn had hit with the flashlight, was clawing at
the avocado plant, and likely looking for the gun he had dropped.

     In a move that Abe had only seen in movies, Finn spun around on one
foot, swinging his other foot in an arc that connected with the tall man's
jaw. The looter flew sideways into the bookshelf. A geranium that had been
on the top shelf wobbled and crashed on his head. He didn't move again.

     "Oh, my God," Abe struggled to draw a breath. His pulse was pounding
so hard and his lungs didn't work. "Oh, my God."

     "They are down," Finn said.

     He stated that as if he were making a report, Abe thought. He ran a
hand over his face, his fingers shaking. "Oh, my God!" he
repeated. "What...who?"

     "Throw the switch. We are getting out now." Finn buckled his tool belt
over his hips and strode over to where Abe was crouching.

     Switch? What switch? "But..." he shook his head, still trying to
absorb what had happened. "Police. We have to call the police."

     "Later." Finn leaned down and reached past him to pick something up
from the floor.

     It was the backpack he had brought home from the class trip, he
realized. "What are you doing?" he asked.

    Finn slung the strap of the pack over one shoulder and reached down to
grasp his arm. "Damage control," he said.

     "What? I don't understand. Why?"

     "Later," Finn interrupted. He pulled Abe to his feet with a strength
that would have surprised him two minutes ago, before he had seen Finn in
action. "Right now, we have to get you out before more of them show up."

     "More? Do you mean more looters? But that's why we have to call the
police."

     Finn shifted his grip from Abe's arm to his wrist and started for the
door. "We'll call them from somewhere safe."

     Abe stumbled after Finn, stepping over the unconscious men who lay
sprawled on his floor. Pot shads crunched under Finn's feet. "All right,
maybe we should call the police from somewhere else, but..."

     His words cut off as the lights came on. He squinted at the sudden
brilliance, and then gasped at the scene the light revealed.

     His neat, orderly apartment was in shambles. Leaves, potting soil and
bright red geranium petals were scattered everywhere. The men he had
stepped over weren't merely unconscious, they were bleeding. He felt his
stomach roll as he saw the damages the tool belt and Finn's foot had done
to their faces.

     And why had the power come back on when Finn hadn't done any repairs?

     And why on earth did Finn want that green backpack?

     The caution he should have felt ten minutes ago when Finn had first
talked his way into his apartment finally asserted itself. He braced his
feet and hung on the broken door frame with his free hand before Finn could
drag him through. "Let go of my wrist," he said.

     Finn turned toward him. This was the first time he had seen his face
clearly. He saw details now that he hadn't seen before: laugh lines at the
corners of his eyes, the hint of a cleft in the center of his chin, the
shadow of a dark beard along the sharp edge of his jaw.

     He was as startlingly handsome as before, but something was
different. There was no flashlight beam to light his features from below,
so there was no way to mistake what he saw. There was more going on behind
those sparkling blue eyes than he had assumed. Finn's expression was more
than hard: it was predatory.

     "Abraham, please." Finn relaxed the hold on Abe's wrist and placed his
hands on Abe's shoulders. "We have to get away from this apartment."

     "No, you go ahead. I'll..."

     "I can't risk your safety by leaving you here." He looked toward the
stairwell. "There could be more men on their way."

     "How do you know that?" Abe inhaled sharply, realizing what Finn had
just said. "And how do you know my name?"

     Finn met his gaze squarely. His eyes probed his for a few tense
seconds. "All right. I've got no choice. Keep running the security checks,
and we'll sort it out later."

     Finn was still looking directly at him, but Abe had the feeling that
he was talking to someone else.

     "Are you going to come with me, Mister Locke?" Finn asked.

     Abe's mind was reeling. There was simply too much to take in, to
figure out, try to make sense of. He shook his head.

     "I should have known that you wouldn't do this the easy way," Finn
muttered. In a move too swift to follow, he leaned forward, wrapped one arm
around the back of Abe's knees and straightened up, flinging him over his
shoulder.

     Abe tried to scream, but the force of Finn's shoulder hitting his
stomach had knocked him breathless. His head bounced against Finn's back as
Finn jogged to the elevator. Abe hit Finn with the bag he was somehow still
clutching but the blows had no effect -- beneath his loose shirt, he was
built like a brick wall. Abe clawed at the backpack Finn carried over his
shoulder in an attempt to lift himself up.

     "Put me down!" he gasped. "What do you think...?"

     "I'll explain everything later, Abe," Finn said, carrying him into the
elevator. "We are using the central Car, Wildman. I'll need a control
override so it won't stop on the way down."

     "What? Who's Wildman?"

     The doors slid shut, and the car started downward. It plummeted past
the floors without showing any signs of slowing. Just as Finn had said, it
didn't stop.

     Abe wriggled, trying to kick free from Finn's grasp.

     Finn tightened his grip on Abe's legs. "Please, don't do that,
Abe. You are only making this more difficult. I promise I'm not going to
hurt you."

     Abe's fingers latched on to the backpack's buckle. He braced his arm
against its side and lifted his head just as the buckle snapped. The pack
had been crammed so full the top flap sprang open the moment the pressure
from the buckle was released.

     Abe went still. He had wondered briefly about what was in this pack,
but he hadn't bothered to look. He had known children liked to carry an
incredible amount of paraphernalia with them, so he hadn't found the weight
that unusual. Nor had he been surprised that the owner hadn't claimed
it. His classroom was full of items that had been left behind.

     But judging by what he could see poking out of the top of the green
backpack, he was certain this pack didn't belong to one of his students.

     Money. The pack wasn't full of Pokémon cards; it was stuffed with
money. Thick bundled wads of it. So much that he could actually smell it.

     It couldn't be real. No, this must be some kind of joke, and the wad
of bills next to his nose had to be from a board game with very, very
realistic props...

     Game? Joke? Those looters who had broken into his apartment had been
dead serious, as was the blood on their faces and the vicious way Finn had
fought them.

     The looters? Had they been after the money? How had they known he had
it, when he hadn't known he had it? And why had Finn grabbed this
pack...unless he too had known what it contained.

    Something clicked in his bran. This is what Finn had been after all
along. He was no electrician. He had lied. He had used that story to get
into his apartment.

     And he had believed every word. He had looked at the charming smile
and those oh-so-sweet dimples and he had been so sure he had Finn's number,
but he hadn't, had he? He'd thought he had learned his lesson about
believing handsome men, but he had been played for a fool. Again.

     Dammit, he should have followed his instincts and slammed that door
while had had the chance.

     What was he mixed up in?

     The elevator bypassed the ground floor. It didn't stop until it
reached the first level of the basement parking garage.

     Where was Finn taking him?

     And why in God's name was he letting him?

     Finn shifted his grip, sliding him down the front of his body until
Abe was standing on his feet. The instant the doors opened, Finn fastened
one arm around Abe's waist, drew him against his side and started forward.

     Abe didn't wait for answers to any of his questions. He didn't pause
for regrets or self-recrimination. He reached for the screwdriver on Finn's
belt, yanked it out of its slot and drove it as hard as he could into
Finn's arm.

     Finn muttered a sharp oath and loosened his grip for a vital second.

     Abe dropped the screwdriver, twisted out of Finn's grip and ran.

     "Mister Locke, stop!"

     At the shout from behind him, Abe moved faster. He darted toward the
nearest row of cars, the sound of his footsteps echoing through the
cavernous garage. His parking lot was on the next level down. Should he try
to make it to the car, or head for the exit ramp? He glanced over his
shoulder.

     Finn was following him. He was pressing his hand against his forearm
and Abe could see blood on his fingers. His stomach churned. How badly had
he hurt Finn?

     "Abraham!"

     He veered to the right, choosing to try to reach the exit instead of
his car. The sooner he got outside, where he could get help, the better his
chances of escaping this... this... whatever he was mixed up in.

     "Block all the exits," Finn said. "He is heading for the ramp."

     Finn's voice was low and hard. Who was he talking to? Was he crazy?
Abe looped the strap of his bag around his neck and broke into a sprint,
his arms pumping as he gulped in air. His foot hit a patch of oil as he
followed the ramp around a pillar. He slid sideways and crashed into the
wall.

     "Abe, please stop!" Finn called. "We are not going to hurt you."

     We? We? Abe slapped his hands against the cement wall and pushed
off. He didn't see the van that was coming down the ramp until it was
directly in front of him.

     Tires screeched as the vehicle skidded to a halt. A trim blond woman
in a yellow cardigan set stared through the windshield at him, then opened
the driver's door and hopped out. "Are you all right?" she asked. "I didn't
hit you, did I?'

     Abe heard footsteps pound on the ramp behind him. He glanced over his
shoulder and saw that Finn was steadily closing the distance between them.

     Finn's jaw clenched and the sleeve over his forearm glistening dark
red. Abe whipped his gaze back to the woman from the van and made a
slit-second decision. "Please. You've got to help me," he said, racing
around the hood of the car to the passenger's door. "That man is crazy. I
need to get out of here and call the police."

     The woman didn't hesitate. Abe had barely pulled the door closed
behind him when the woman slid behind the wheel, flipped the power locks on
the door and threw the van into reverse.

     Abe braced his hand on the dashboard, trying to catch his breath. He
saw Finn had stopped running. His lips moved, as if he were talking to
himself again.

     "No problem, Sergeant," the woman said. "I'll take it from here."

     Finn smiled and lifted his bloody hand to his forehead in a crisp
salute.

     Abe whipped his gaze back to his rescuer.

     The blond woman palmed the wheel as she changed gears, expertly
sending the minivan into a skidding half circle so that it was pointing up
the ramp instead of down. She gave Abe a tight smile. "Relax, Mister
Locke. If you had the good sense to run away from Braveheart, then you
won't have any trouble understanding what I am about to tell you."



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