Like Dust in the Wind
by Jack Lynch
Chapter 12
Empty Hangers.
Three days.
Where the hell was he? Carey turned various scenarios over and over in his mind. He thought about calling the local hospital. Maybe he had been in some accident or gotten mugged. Or worse.
Finally, he called the school. No, they said, he hadn't shown up to teach. The school secretary told Carey the principal was really annoyed. He'd been forced to pick up Mr. Parker's classes himself. They finally hired another sub.
Next stop. Apollo's apartment. He peered through the small window next to the door. The place looked neat and clean, almost a little too neat and clean. Mrs. Ford was worried when he knocked on her door. She quickly accompanied Carey around back with her master key.
Empty hangers in the closet, drawers cleaned out, too. Dishes were all done and put away. Toiletries removed from the bathroom.
Gone without a trace.
Carey managed to hobble back to his parent's house. He sat on a chair in the living room and just glumly stared into space.
November.
As soon as he started feeling better, Apollo was allowed to start taking meals in the kitchen. Nursing a mushroom omelette that all of a sudden started tasting better, he watched Omar approach him. Tensing up, he girded himself for another beating.
"Habibi, how are you feeling?"
Apollo just looked at him scornfully.
Omar sat down next to him, leaning forward with his forearms on the table.
"I will state this as plainly as I can. Amir owns you. He paid to own you. You will remain with us until Amir has no further use for you."
"I just needed to be with my friend. He was injured."
"I am very sorry for your friend's troubles. But, leave here again without our consent and you will watch your friend as he dies. And then you will die, too."
Omar brought his hand up to scratch an itch on his nose. As he did, Apollo flinched, afraid he was about to get hit.
"I am thinking you know what I say to be true," Omar cackled.
Later that day, one of the tunic adorned servants directed Apollo to the home's large gym. A surfer dude, long curly dirty blond hair on one side of his head à la Kenny G, shaved close on the other side of the head, greeted him.
"Hey, I'm Luke," he said with a smile and a hand shake. "Omar thinks you're getting a little soft. How about if we tighten you up a bit?"
No question, Apollo thought. He had been feeling pretty mushy since being beaten to a pulp.
On a daily basis, he met with Luke. It was more than a pleasant experience. Floor to ceiling glass walls on two sides, views to the beach and ocean, the gym was filled with latest shiny equipment.
Luke was a world class trainer and pretty damn hot, to boot. Probably close to 6 feet, tanned body and ripped. Chiseled features. Their easy conversation revealed that, indeed, he was a surfer dude. He lived for the board and the beach.
Apollo knew it was coming. About a month later, his bruises now faded away, and looking more like himself after the daily workouts, Omar came to his room.
"Take off your clothes and follow me."
Obediently, he got naked, following Omar down to the living room. Amir sat slouched back in a deeply cushioned sofa.
"Come here."
When Apollo reached him, Amir pulled his head down, giving him a deep opened mouth kiss.
"I've missed you."
Without thinking, Apollo smirked, then instantly regretted it. But Amir just looked up at him. I just love this boy's attitude, he thought. He felt himself starting to get hard.
"I have a gift for you. Did you know it was Christmas?"
Apollo just shook his head. He'd lost track of the days.
He heard a door close behind him. Turning, he saw Luke. Also naked. Apollo had actually never thought of him in this way but, now confronted, he realized how very sexy he was. His body revealed no tan lines, a pleasing light shade of brown. A smooth hairless chest, a pretty healthy bush, and blond curly hair on his legs. He was already hard, a respectable six inches plus, smooth and pink.
With a squirrelly smile, he walked over to Apollo, put his hands on his hips, and turned him slightly so that they faced each other. Without a word, he dropped to his knees, taking Apollo's limp dick in one hand. Holding it out and up, Luke brought his tongue out and licked the underside of his shaft from his balls to the tip of his head. Apollo groaned as he threw his head back and squeezed his eyes shut. It had been a long time, too long, he guessed. The blood rushed to his cock. He'd never been sucked off like this before. It wasn't so much the sucking as it was the tongue worship. His hips thrust softly forward and back.
Luke couldn't help smiling even as he licked and alternately sucked on Apollo's cock. He'd wanted to go down on this guy since day one. Have mouth, will travel. His own little personal motto. He loved, loved, loved, oral sex. Men and women, old and young, it didn't matter. One of his girl friends had confided in him. In her circle, Luke was known as Deep Dive. His record: three in one day. A girl on the beach, one of his MILF clients, and a guy he picked up at a bar. He was celebrating his twenty-first. Happy Birthday, young man!
When Apollo came, it wasn't a rifle shot. It was more like syrup pouring out of a bottle. A long continuous stream of milky cum that covered the top of Luke's fist. As the show had unfolded, Amir slowly slumped on his side, supported by one of the cushy pillows. Eyes glazed and hooded, as if in a trance. As Apollo's orgasm flowed, he joined Luke on the floor, grabbing both cock and fist, lapping the spunk up as if it was melting ice cream.
After Amir finished, he sat back on his haunches.
Looking up at a still gasping Apollo he said, "Merry Christmas!"
Carey squeezed his eyes shut and groaned.
Life sucked.
A dark Christmas and a lonely New Year had given way to a bleak January.
He still limped but not as badly. His leg was a red, scarred mess. The wounds to his broken heart still bled. No one blamed him for the crash. That truck driver was going to be standing trial for criminal vehicular homicide. Even still. The what-ifs played over and over.
Randy's father found the photos they had taken of themselves at the lake cabin. A couple of hours before Scottie and Randy died, the day before Connor died. They all looked so full of life. Full of love. There were no tears left, but he couldn't stop staring at the photo. With a sigh, he tucked it away in a private place.
Not a word from Apollo. Carey's emotions ran the gamut. Worried about what might have happened to him. Then, caustic reminders of Apollo's penchant to just leave even though he knew he was wanted and needed.
Carey needed to do something but the get-up-and-go just wasn't there. He'd missed the opportunity to go back to school. The spring semester was already under way. Didn't feel like working a job. Didn't need to. Living at home, his financial reserves overflowing from an inheritance. No need to spend any money. Nothing and no one to spend it on.
"How r u?"
A random text. Micah!
He thought about not responding for a moment. Then, shrugging his shoulders he messaged back.
"Ok. U?"
"Good. Haven't seen u around."
"I'm not around."
"Where r u?"
"Home."
The phone rang. They hadn't really talked…well, ever. The last time they spent any time together, they were both naked, getting their pictures taken by Professor Hathaway. Then, that absolutely stunningly embarrassing photography exhibit that made them both famous. Or, rather, infamous.
It was nuts. Micah actually knew Bell. A crazy set of coincidences. Is the World really that small, Carey thought? He actually chuckled, something he didn't do very much any more.
They caught up. Micah knew all about the accident, mostly what he'd learned from Bell. For him, the genesis of next year's senior project was beginning to jell in acrylic on canvas.
"Let's hang out."
"If and when I'm on campus, I'll let you know."
Hotel sheets. Ya gotta love 'em. Bell stretched his arms over his head and yawned. Marti lay on her side next to him, facing away, lightly snoring. Post coitus. Bell loved getting his bones jumped. This was the second time Marti had gotten a room for them at the Derbyshire Inn. He was really getting into this MILF thing. The sex was fantastic. The pot wasn't bad, either.
Bell's phone buzzed.
"You sexy thang!"
Micah chuckled.
"Hey Bell."
Micah went on to describe his conversation with Carey.
"I'm worried about him."
"Well, maybe we can do something about that."
The rudiments of a plan were formulated.
"I'll get back to you." Bell ended the conversation.
Next, a call to Carey.
"You sound like shit, Sterling."
"Well-l-l, I dunno," Carey replied dully.
"What are you doing for Spring Break?"
"There is no 'break.' I don't have anything to break from."
"Ya? I think you do."
Bell went on to describe the quaint little island off the coast of Georgia.
"We'll get a house, warm up your bones."
In his cute way, acting like the jerk he usually was, Bell talked him into it. And, Carey, out of excuses, gave in.
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