Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ A Fugitive and Me ❯ Learning Their Ways ( Chapter 13 )

Chapter 13- Learning their ways

 

Tom isn't talking to me. I'm sitting next to him in the passenger's seat and we're on our way to some shitty nameless grocery store in the middle of nowhere. He hasn't said a word since he told me we were leaving to go shopping, and it's starting to piss me off. I don't understand what the hell I did wrong. All I did was kiss the guy so I could eat breakfast and to save Tom's ass. He should be thanking me, not ignoring me, turning up the radio really loud every time I try to say something. It's just pissing me off, and as much as I hate to say this, it's fucking immature, the whole `I'm not listening' deal.

 

“Tom…” He turns up the radio even louder. “Tom, I…” Louder. “Tom!” I shout, leaning over and yelling it right into his face. He jumped, squirming to the other side of his seat, as if he shouldn't have expected me to get pissed off. I switched the radio off completely and sat back in my seat more calmly.

 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I asked. “What did I do?” He stayed silent for a while, slouching lower in his seat. “Tom!” I barked, I wasn't about to let him slip back into his little hole again.

 

“I'm just not in a good mood, alright, just don't talk to me,” He said. “You wouldn't be in a good mood either…” He trailed off, shifting in his seat.

 

“You act as if it's my fault,” I mumbled.

 

“Yeah, well, you're not totally innocent in the matter,” He glared. “I can't believe you kissed him,”

 

“I can't believe you care,” I said. “Would you rather he raped you again? It's not like it hurt me at all, it was just a fucking kiss,” I brought my legs up to my chest again and sighed. Truth be told even I wish I hadn't kissed him, because ever since he'd been giving me these looks and shit, creeping me out even more than before. But that doesn't mean I'd rather he did whatever he was going to do to Tom for cutting in instead.

 

“You just shouldn't have,” Tom sighed. “Once he get's a taste…” His voice trailed off. “…he wants the rest.” He fell silent and I heard myself swallow. The rest? What is that supposed to mean? …Oh who am I kidding, I know what it means, but no psychotic pervert is going to rape me, nor am I going to let him do it to Tom again.

 

Once we got to the store I wasn't even certain that we were actually going to buy the food. Because, you know, Tom being a wanted criminal and all, why buy anything anymore? I guess that's not the way it goes, though, because he pays for every last item and has a friendly chat with the sexy straight store clerk named Bob. Bob is lovesick over his female fiancé, thus being the reason I know he's straight.

 

We bought things like bread, milk, eggs, even coffee beans. These were all things that Joe already had in the house of course, but I understand Tom's reasoning in buying them. Wouldn't want a repeat of this morning's incident. He did also say on the phone that we'd supply our own food. I guess that's what we're doing.

 

“I need to go talk to someone today,” Tom began was we left the grocery store parking lot. “I'm just going to drop you off quick, and then head over to see him. I'll be back in about a half-hour, okay?” He was acting as if I was his ten-year-old son, or wife.

 

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” I shrugged. “Who you going to see?” I asked.

 

“Guy named Rick Gamble, he was there when I shot Billy Carlos, knows more about Ryan than I do,” Tom nodded. “Not to mention he's practically my boss,”

 

“Okay, be home for lunch though deary,” I joked. Tom grinned and nodded.

 

“I will, honey,” He rolled his eyes. “Oh, and do me a favor, when you get back, go in your room and lock the door. Don't let Joe know you're there if possible. I don't really expect him to do anything, but you can't be too careful,” He gave me a serious look and I returned it with a nod. If I remember correctly, there is no lock on the door to that room, but I don't really expect Joe to try anything either. He seems like a real creep, sure, but I don't think he's that desperate. I could be wrong though.

 

“Hey… Tom?” I began twiddling my thumbs in my lap. Maybe it's not the best time to bring it up, but I'm curious of what he thinks about what I did last night. Well, more curious of if he's really even aware of it.

 

“Mmm?” He's kind of cheery now though. I don't know if I should reintroduce the memory of a bad night. Guess it's too late now though.

 

“Did you hear…?” I began. “Last night in my room?” Chances are if he heard me he knew what the hell was going on, and how could he not have? I was moaning up a storm, at least so I think.

 

“In your room? No, why?” Tom shrugged. Shit, he doesn't know, meaning I shouldn't have brought it up. But he has to know, he saw me with my pants pulled down this morning. Maybe he doesn't want to know.

 

“Nothing,” I conclude.

 

“Whatever,” Tom chuckled. “But if I were you I wouldn't refer to that room as yours, it's not your average ordinary everyday guestroom,” He grinned. I just gave him a funny look. “Joe doesn't like other people in his bed, so whenever he brings home a whore, he uses that room,” He gave me this goofy look. As soon as his words registered in my brain I wanted to smack him.

 

“Thanks for telling me I was residing in the official rape room,” I grumbled.

 

“More like official sex room,” Tom cut in. “Believe it or not he likes consensual more than forced, that's why he always went for the hookers and prostitutes,” He wiggled his eyebrows at me. I could be wrong, but he seems to like talking about anything having to do with sex. What a freak. Just another reason for to not feel sorry for him for last night.

 

“But you're not a hooker or a prostitute,” I implied. But you are a whore.

 

“True that,” He nodded. “But he always did me in his own bed, not to mention I'm the only one he took to his bed for the full seven months I lived with him,”

 

“Well shouldn't you feel special,” I rolled my eyes. “Maybe he loooves you,” I teased, nudging him with my elbow.

 

“He can't, that'd be one to many reasons for me to kill myself,” Tom replied, turning off the main road and onto the street on which Joe lived.

 

“How many reasons do you have to kill yourself?” I spoke in a more serious tone. Suicide is no laughing matter… usually.

 

“None,” Tom shrugged.

 

Good answer.

 

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When I walked into the house, grocery bags in hand, I found Joe asleep on the couch with FK's head rested on his lap. Quietly, I snuck into the kitchen to drop off the groceries. I put the eggs and milk and other things that needed to be refrigerated in the fridge, and left the rest on the counter before heading to my room. I peaked into the living room one last time before I shut the door, Joe was still sleeping soundly on the couch. I was surprised to notice that he didn't snore at all.

 

I pulled the door shut gently and then went over to the foot of the bed and sat down. I made sure to avoid the middle because I know what was there, as the bed was still in the same shape I'd left it in. I guess I'm going to have to wash the sheets sometime today.

 

Already becoming a little bored, I reached into my suitcase and pulled out the box of Oatmeal Cream Pies that I'd brought from home. Eating really isn't one of my main boredom killers, but just one Little Debbie snack won't hurt.

 

Within the next ten minutes, I've eaten all eight of the Cream Pies that were in the box. I feel like a fat ass, but they tasted so damn good. Suddenly I have a craving for even more sweets, and I pull three Hohos out of the suitcase and start chowing down on them as well.

 

After a lot of eating, I feel like I should stop if I don't want to wake up with a huge stomach, so I toss all of the wrappers aside, as well as the Twinkie I was about to shove in my mouth, and sprawl out across the foot of the bed. Avoiding the spot where the white sticky crustiness is, mind you.

 

I wish Joe wasn't sleeping on the couch, then maybe I'd be able to watch TV. But under the circumstances, and based on Tom's earlier warning, I'd rather not wake him up. Besides, Tom said he'd be home in a half hour, only ten more minutes to kill. I think I can lie here, staring at the ceiling for ten more minutes.

 

That idea goes to hell when the doorknob turns and is opened a crack. I'm hoping to god that it's Tom, but I am ninety-nine percent sure that it's not. My suspicions are confirmed when Joe pokes his head into the room. What the hell is he doing in here? This is my room! Well, technically it's his house making it his room… but I really just want him to leave, right now. I don't like the look in his eyes, that mischievous smirk he's wearing.

 

“May I help you?” I ask, trying to keep the display of my fear to a minimum. He shuts the door behind him, which is bad, very, very bad.

 

“Tom told you how we first met, didn't he?” Joe got straight to the point. I gulped, not replying, just staring at him, hoping he wouldn't extend on the subject. “You know, how I raped him? Three times in the same night?” He smirked. Okay, well Tom left that bit out, but yeah basically he told me… why are you getting closer? I gulped. “Fun, fun, fun,” He chuckled, he was like, right on top of me now, all he had to do was crawl onto the bed and he would be. I was too scared to move, stiffened, I couldn't bring myself to sit up.

 

“I'd probably let this wait a little longer,” It was then I realized that he was holding something behind his back. “But seeing as you're not going to be here much longer thanks to the five-thousand dollar reward on your buddy's head, I'm afraid I don't have much time,” He crawled on top of me, bringing a pair of handcuffs out from behind his back.

 

“Uhm…” I swallowed. Five-thousand dollar reward? What the hell? And what in the fuck are those handcuffs for! While I'm busy panicking on the inside and doing absolutely nothing on the outside, he's completely on top of me, his face is hovering right above mine. I feel his hands on my wrists and before I can protest, he locks one of the cuffs around my arm. I jerk, start squirming, but his body is squishing me.

 

“Shh,” He leans down and whispers in my ear. I feel a chill but refuse to stop struggling, though it's a little hard when one of my arms is secured in hand cuffs above my head, and the other is being held at my side. All of the sudden he lifts me up off the mattress and slams me down again so that my head is on the pillow. Before I can do anything he's locked my wrists together around one of the bars on the headboard. Fuck, I can't do anything, and he knows it.

 

“This is going to be easier if you don't fight,” He implies, lips just above my own. Just as a spur of the moment reaction, I whip up a wad of drool in my mouth and spit it in his face. He growls, and I mean literally, like a dog growl, I don't think he likes my spit very much. I spit in his face again.

 

“Son of a bitch,” He wipes the drool off of his face. I narrow my eyes at him daringly, hoping he'd be intimidated, hoping he'd just stop. But you know what? Rapists don't really work that way, the more you piss them off, the harder they fuck you. Suddenly I feel like an idiot.

 

Anger driven, Joe rolls up my shirt, up my chest and over my head until it's just hanging there on my arms and I'm completely shirtless. God, this cannot be happening, please tell me this just isn't fucking happening. He isn't running his disgusting tongue up and down my torso, he isn't pulling my skin into his mouth, or biting my sides. And oh my god, he is NOT sucking on my nipple!

 

I can't help but moan. I don't want to, but he's damn good, even though he's raping me here, I have to admit he's got some mouth talent. I wonder what it would be like to have him… shit no! I need to get my priorities straight! Okay, priority number one, somehow stop big creepy pedophile guy from tugging my pants down. I can't move my legs, they're pinned down, and I can't use my arms because I'm tied up. At this point there's really only one thing I can do.

 

“Tom!” I screamed. “Fucking help!” He isn't even fucking here, I don't know why I'm calling his name. Maybe the neighbors or someone can hear though, anyone will do, just somebody fucking help me!

 

I decide to put that in word form. “Just somebody fucking help me!”

 

“No one can hear you,” Joe insisted, pulling my pants the rest of the way down, along with my boxers. Oh god, I feel so exposed, I want to crawl in a hole and die. He straddles me and starts working at his own belt and zipper. Suddenly it hits me that if I don't get myself out of this soon, I'm never going to get out of it. More importantly, he's going to shove something up my ass, I don't want things shoved up my ass!

 

“Joey,” There's a calm voice from the doorway, one I recognize clearly. “Can't I leave you alone with someone for a half hour without… well, this happening?” Tom sighed.

 

“Not if said someone is attractive,” Joe grumbled. “Now get out and wait your turn,” He continued working at his belt buckle. Turn? What the hell is he implying with that!

 

“You disregard every fucking thing I say don't you,” All of the sudden Tom was holding a gun, and he had it pointed straight at Joe. All I can think is that he better have decent enough aim to not miss and hit me instead.

 

“You won't shoot me,” Joe growled, but the presence of the weapon did seem to be slowing down the removal of his pants a tad.

 

“Yeah?” Tom cocked the gun. “What if I just found out that you had plans to rat out my location to a Mr. Ryan Carlos. That or kill me yourself and send him my head in a pretty little bow tied box,” Tom spat. Joe just stared at him, and I did the same. What the hell did I miss here? “Still think I won't shoot you?” He smirked.

 

“Tom…” I watched Joe's hand slide down his thigh and then across his leg toward his boot.

 

“Don't move!” Tom ordered. Joe froze as if on cue. “I know there's a knife in your left boot, Joe, you gave up someone who knows you too well,” Tom scowled.

 

“All right,” Joe raised his hands above his head, looking rather defeated. “So I screwed you over, why the hell haven't you shot me yet?”

 

“Where are the keys to Fox's hand cuffs?” Tom asked, almost off topic, but I'd admit it's a damn good question under the circumstances. I anxiously wait an answer.

 

“You going to kill me as soon as I tell you?” Joe asked, the side of his mouth curling into somewhat of a smile.

 

“Yes,” Tom answered without hesitation, gritting his teeth. Joe said nothing. “All right, if you give me the key I'll consider not shooting you, but if you don't within the next five fucking seconds…” Tom didn't get a chance to finish before Joe pulled a small silver object out of his pant pocket and tossed it at Tom's feet. Yay! I'm saved!

 

The gun when off… twice. All of the sudden Joe was lying on top of me and there was blood gushing out of his chest. Had I not been so frozen I think I would have screamed.

 

“You…” I gasped as Tom rushed over to me and began undoing the cuffs around my wrists. “You killed him,” I swallowed.

 

“What did I tell you last night?” He turned the key and I was free. “Stab me in the back and I'll fucking kill you, at least you know I wasn't shitting you when I said that,” With that he got off me, seeming to think that I was all hunky dory now that my arms were no longer tied. Well, let me tell you, when there's a dead guy on top of you and you're not wearing a shirt because you almost got raped, and you can feel said dead guy's blood seeping out all over you, everything is not hunky dory.

 

Disgusted, I pushed the dead Joe upward by his shoulders and through him off of me.

 

“We'll have to find a place to bury the body,” Tom said, more to himself than to me.

 

“Oh,” I glared at him. “You mean we can't just chop him up into little pieces and eat them?” Oh the sarcasm.

 

“Not enough time, but it's a nice suggestion,” Tom rolled his eyes. “I don't know if Joe gave Carlos an address, so we're going to have to get a hotel room tonight, and go from there. So we have to pack,” He said.

 

“What? But we have the place all to ourselves now!” I scowled. We could live here, stay in this house, the cops would never find us unless they decided to bust down every door in the city.

 

“Wow, you're a natural,” Tom grinned at me. “We kill a guy and the first thing you think of is taking over his house, very nice,” He laughed. I looked down, blushing a little.

 

“Well… I sort of like the truck too…” I shrugged. He laughed again. “But seriously, Tom, what about the cops being able to track us through hotel rooms and all that shit you were so worried about before?” I complained. I mean sure, staying in a hotel room would be okay, but you only get one night for a damn good amount of money. Where do we go for the next night, and after that? I don't want to have to worry over whether I'll have a warm place to sleep at night every day. That's what hobos do! I am no hobo.

 

“The cops are easier to dodge than this guy,” Tom replied. “They're trained to save people, not kill them. They'll do what they can to get handcuffs on my wrists before a bullet in my head. Anyone working for Ryan Carlos is set to kill,” He kneeled down beside Joe's body and folded his arms over his chest. I sat up on the bed, letting out a groan.

 

“But… why would he give the guy his address, do you think he'd really want us shooting up his house if his precious plan went wrong?” I asked, trying to think of any reason in the world that we could stay here.

 

“Joe? Yes,” Tom said simply. “Even if he didn't, Ryan doesn't get a reply from him, thinks Joe was shitting him the whole time. He'll get pissed off and come straight here first, he doesn't like when people mess with him,” Tom stood back onto his feet and started walking toward the room door.

 

“Oh come on, he won't do that,” I growled getting up off the bed and pulling my pants back up all the way. I grabbed my shirt and started following him out of the room. He was in the kitchen, holding a spray bottle and a rag.

 

“You don't know him like I do,” Tom shook his head and turned back to me. He paused a moment, expression blank, just staring at me. If I'm not mistaken, he was staring at my chest.

 

“What?” I cocked an eyebrow at him. Tom shook his head and started toward me, eyes now focused on anything but me. He passed me and started heading back to the bedroom.

 

“Please,” I made desperate fists with my hands. “Can we just stay here, just a while, we can get away if he comes!” I begged. I'm a good beggar, or so past experiences have told me. “If anyone comes to assassinate you, you can cut my head off,” I stated. Wow, I don't know where the hell that came from.

 

“I wouldn't make promises like that,” Tom mumbled. I wonder if he'd actually cut my head off if an assassin came.

 

Tom went back over to where Joe's body was and started wiping up the blood.

 

“Please,” I tried one last time. “It's a perfect place, no one knows we're here,”

 

“You don't know that,” He sounded like he was getting frustrated, and was scrubbing at the blood more harshly. I can't decided if it's a good or a bad thing that he's starting to get annoyed.

 

“Tom…” I just stopped there, I had more to throw at him, but maybe he just needs to think about it. There was a pause during which I stayed silent and Tom just kept wiping up the blood, ignoring my completely. It wasn't until he was finished that he decided to look up and acknowledge me again.

 

“Okay,” He sighed regretfully. Victory! “But if someone does come and kill me, I will chop your head off,” He wagged a finger in my face, wadding up the bloody rag in his other hand. “Now put your damn shirt on and let's get this thing into the car,” Tom gritted his teeth and started out of the room.

 

I looked at the bed I'd slept in last night. It isn't in the best shape, covered in blood and semen. If someone didn't know better, they'd probably guess that someone had straight sex on it. I was about to put my shirt on when I noticed that there was still blood smeared across my chest.

 

So that's what he was staring at, damn it, and I'd gotten my hopes up too.

 

“Fuck,” I muttered and headed for the bathroom.

 

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After I'd cleaned up and put my shirt back on, Tom and I carried the body out and put it in the drunk. FK decided she needed to sniff it all over all the way there. I was quite proud of her by the way she didn't cry for his death like she had Brady's. I disallow her to give a shit about Joe, even if he is dead now.

 

“Put dog in house,” Tom ordered after shutting the trunk on the bagged body. It's weird, we actually put the body in an old suitcase found in Joe's closet. Strange yes, but less conspicuous than carrying a garbage bag shaped like a person with feet sticking out of the end. Looks like we're just going on a trip or something.

 

I took FK by her collar and guided her back to the house, she went with me willingly, wagging her tail all the way. Once she was in the house I shut the door and jogged back down to the car where Tom was waiting for me.

 

“Once this is done,” Tom began, putting the car into drive. “Hopefully I'll be able to lay low again for a while,” He sighed and we pulled out of the driveway.

 

We'd been driving along in silence for about fifteen minutes before I decided to speak up.

 

“So,” I cleared my throat. “Where are we headed?” It looked like we were going out to the middle of nowhere, judging by all the abandoned buildings around us. I suppose the middle of nowhere is a pretty good place to bury a body though.

 

“Woods,” Tom shrugged. “There's a nice big thick woods right at the edge of…”

 

Tom didn't get a chance to finish, because a police cruiser came out of fucking nowhere and slammed into the side of the car! The whole inside of the car jerked as the front of it spun. Tom lost his grip on the steering wheel and slammed against the window, I heard it shatter as I was thrown half way into the driver's seat before the car stopped sliding, halfway on the sidewalk, halfway on the road.

 

“Run!” Before I was even able to understand our situation, Tom was out of the car and running away toward one of the buildings. Without hesitance I got out to run right after him. The way a bullet struck the corner of a building just as I turned it confirmed that we were being chased. I don't know how many cops were in that car, hopefully only one, and hopefully they just happened to have forgotten to call for back-up.

 

“Faster!” Tom yelled at me, he was about ten feet ahead. “Fox!” He yelled, sounding panicked. I looked back to see two cops, both running behind us with their guns out, and they were gaining. A little closer and they would have been able to pull the trigger and…

 

All of the sudden I was pulled into one of the abandoned buildings. I hadn't seen Tom turn into it but I wasn't about to ask questions, and simply followed him up the spiral of stairs before us. I couldn't even think about how tired I was at this point, how I was out of breath. I heard the sound of bullets clanking off the railings around me and all I could think was to run faster.

 

“You're fucking fast!” I yell at Tom, who's still at least seven feet ahead. I don't slow my pace though, I look down the stairs to see that those damn cops are only three levels lower than us.

 

“I'm used to this,” Tom yelled back. I groaned and continued up the steps, but I was getting really tired of having to step upward, when the hell do these steps end!

 

“They're getting away!” I heard one of the cops yell from below us.

 

“No they're not,” The other sounded more calm, confident. Where have I heard that voice before?

 

I didn't dwell on it long because we were finally at the top of the stairs. I followed Tom down a hallway into a dark room, and when I say dark, I mean dark, it was pitch black. I stopped as soon as I was inside. I wanted to yell for him, ask him where he was, but I don't think that's such a great idea, giving away where we were. Maybe if I just…

 

Someone crashed into me from behind and I forgot what I was thinking. I fell forward onto my knees, hitting the top of my head on a brick wall. I yelped in pain and rolled over onto my back, holding the spot on my forehead where it smacked against the brick. At least, I think the wall was brick, I couldn't actually see the damn thing.

 

Suddenly a light shined down on me, I looked up to see a man in uniform, looking down at me with a suspicious glare. I didn't recognize him.

 

“Who are…” the cop didn't get a chance to finish, because the light was knocked out of his hand by someone I couldn't see. Tom.

 

I heard the sounds of punching and hitting for a short time, and when I was able to pick up the flashlight that had been dropped, I shined it on the unconscious body of the cop.

 

“Is he dead?” I whispered.

 

“No, turn off the flashlight,” Tom ordered in the same whisper. I did what he asked and stood still in the middle of the pitch-black room. Have I ever mentioned that I'm afraid of the dark? At the moment, however, it's what's going to come in from outside of the dark room that I'm worried about, damn cops. I almost gasped when I saw the silouette of a second figured at the doorway. I could see him but he couldn't see me, how can I use this to my advantage? Taking a bit of a risk, I let out a whistle. It was one of those `come here' whistles. The man's attention and flashlight were on me immediately, and not long after he was bashed in the head with what looked like a plank of wood.

 

I heard him moan and watched the sillouette of two men leave the room, one dragging the other by his shoulders. I rushed out after them.

 

“Good thinking with the whistling Fox,” Tom said once I was back out into the lighter area. I simply nodded, looking down at the face of the half-conscious officer in front of us. I recognized this one all right, the same one I got a ride from yesterday afternoon. God, somehow that seems like so long ago, but it's hardly been a day. Why the hell does this guy keep tracking Tom around? That isn't what cops do. Though, a better question would be how he keeps doing it.

 

“Son of a bitch, Matt,” Tom mumbled under his breath, dragging the man over to a pillar on the left side of the hallway. “How many times is this now, four?” He asked, seemingly to himself as he took the handcuffs from the cop's back pocket and started chaining him to the pole.

 

“Fuck you,” The cop spat. Gaining a little more consciousness he raised his head and looked directly at me, eyes mostly closed.

 

“You?” He glared at me. “This is all your fucking fault,” He spat. “Should have fucking known,”

 

“No, It's mine,” Tom patted the guy on the head. “Now, you stay here and be a good boy and wait for your back-up to show, while I walk away from you unharmed again,” Tom laughed, kicking the man in the side as he stepped over him and headed back toward the stairs that we came up. “I'll be sure to call in and tell the department that you're here sometime within the next three days,” Tom called back, his tone filled with what sounded like hatred, and a hint of humor. I don't understand why, this doesn't seem funny to me. He walked away and I slowly followed him.

 

“Never fucking trust teenagers,” I heard Matt mumble just as I got to the stairs. I've decided that I don't like him, whoever the hell he is, and whatever the hell is going on, I don't like him.

 

A/N- :D I think this is the earliest I've updated for this story in particular, last time I updated was Sunday, which was four days ago ^-^. I like to have them up in a week or less, so this is some sort of accomplishment x3.

 

I felt horrible killing off Joe's character… I always knew I was going to do it… but now I kind of miss him :P. Maybe I shouldn't have made him so likable… there's no room for him to have a bigger part xP. He'll have a decent part in the prequel, though, whenever I decide to update that one x3.

 

As a report on the other stories in my profile, I don't have any updating dates set for them. Basically meaning that I'm not really concerned about them, therefore am probably not going to update them unless I'm in the mood to do so. I realize I probably shouldn't have posted all of them… seeing as I already have this novel going… and now I've decided to start three more e.e. The plot bunnies get to me… it's their fault, I swear. O.o.

 

There's even a chance that some of them won't be updated until this story is finished, but I rather doubt it, seeing as this is far from finished.