Avery's Desire Pt. 11

She was strong, willful, and intelligent. Normally those were qualities that he tried to avoid when seeking out potential partners, but this was different. It wasn't just sex that he wanted; he wanted her in her entirety; every last scornful, brutal, insulting, and accursed part of her.

As he stood in the hall, debating on whether to knock or run, he heard a lock click behind him and then door 216 suddenly swung wide open.

"Why in the fuck are you stalking around outside my apartment?"

Trash spun around, almost falling over, and stared into the furious face of his beloved.

"Are you a fucking idiot?" She howled.

Trash was dumbstruck. Even the animosity seeping from between her rosy red lips wasn't enough to deter him. She held the door knob, leaning on the frame, and glared at him with spiteful condemnation. Her hair was gathered beneath a pink towel that was wound about her head like a turban. She stood bare footed, dressed in a simple pair of violet boy shorts, and a black tank top, with no bra.

"What's that matter?" She sneered, "Cat got your tongue?"

Trash smirked. 'Not yet,' He mused to himself. 'But maybe if I'm lucky.'

Kat rolled her eyes as she looked him over. She was almost certain that he was sick or something from the way that he was acting. He looked feverish and in a daze, especially with the goofy smile that he had stretched across his thin lips.

"Mrs. Bellamy called and told me that some scruffy looking character was lurking around outside my place. She wanted to know if she should call the cops. I told her no, that I knew the scruffy looking asshole. So, you want to tell me why you're hanging around here, scaring my neighbors?"

"I...I..." Trash stammered, unsure of what to say. Without thinking, he lifted his arm and thrust a small bouquet of flowers towards her.

Kat looked at the bouquet and frowned. It was an assortment of daisies and carnations, with a few fern leaves and baby's breath wrapped in green tissue paper. She raised an eyebrow, "Are you kidding me?"

"You like flowers right?" He asked her. "All women like flowers; at least I think they do."

Kat laughed, the expression on her face becoming somewhat softer. "Dude, there is something seriously wrong with you."

Trash's smiled faded. He lowered his arm, holding the bouquet at his side as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, I..."

Kat smiled. She took the flowers and moved to the side of the doorway. "Just get your ass in here." She smirked. "I'll put these in some water."

She turned and headed into the apartment, leaving Trash standing in the hallway, confused but somewhat relieved.

"You coming or what?" She hollered at him.

"On my way!" He said; the smile returning. He bounced into the room with a giddy, and eager gate, kicking the door closed behind him.

____________________________________________________________________

Avery sat down on the couch and picked up the TV remote. He wasn't really in the mood to watch TV, but Rick was still asleep and there just wasn't much else to do. It was already past noon, he wasn't overly hungry, not that there was much in the apartment to eat anyway. He really needed to make a trip to the grocery store but he just couldn't find the motivation to be bothered with it.

He thought back to his discussion with Boomer the night before and realized that getting a vehicle might not be the worst idea ever. It would certainly make things a lot easier, especially in the winter. Trying to lug multiple bags of food on and off a bus wasn't the easiest of tasks and one that frankly, Avery was getting kind of sick of doing.

He could always have the groceries delivered to the apartment but it wasn't cost efficient, plus it made him feel a little lazy. He made the decision then that he was going to talk to Rick about the possibility of getting something. He was nineteen now, he lived on his own with his lover, why shouldn't he have a vehicle?

It was about time that he learned to drive as well. In a bigger city it wouldn't matter as much, public transportation was more readily available, but in a small town it was just impractical not to own a car.

Rick thought it was a little odd at first that Avery had never gotten a license to begin with or even taken drivers ED in school. He figured that was the first thing most kids did when they turned sixteen, but Avery explained to him that he'd left home when he was just barely seventeen, and up until then, he'd either had drivers that took him everywhere, or he'd take a taxi.

Avery's father was a partner in a very prestigious law firm and his mother was a Neurosurgeon. Between their busy work schedules, social functions, and extramarital affairs, they didn't have much time for their children. Avery spent a good amount of his childhood in boarding school, then after that it was private school, and private tutors.

He saw the house staff more often than his own parents, and had a better mother-son relationship with the nanny than he did his own mother.

He had been born late in his parents' lives, an obvious mistake on their parts, as they honestly didn't plan on nor want any more children. With their older children already grown and living on their own, they just didn't have the time or energy to spend on raising another one, which always left Avery feeling somewhat neglected and unwanted.

His parents regarded him as more of an unwanted distraction and genetic obligation than their actual child. He supposed that it was probably a relief to them when he ran away. Aside from sending him a monthly check, they were released from any other custodial duties. Never once in the time that he'd been gone had they ever asked how he was, or if he needed anything.

They've never sent a birthday or a Christmas card, and never so much as wrote a letter or an email letting him know how his family was doing.

At first Avery was hurt by their silence. He knew that he was a disappointment to them, but he was still their son. He didn't think it was so farfetched to believe that they had some feelings for him. They must have loved him at some point. At least, he hoped they did. Once, about eight months ago, Avery had received an email from his sister Sophia. She told him very briefly of her marriage and new baby.

There was no mention though of his parents or either of his two brothers, and the email, though he was grateful to get it, was cold and impersonal, as though it were just a newsletter that had been penned and sent in bulk to everyone listed in Sophia's contact list. Avery thought it entirely possible that she didn't even know she'd sent it to him, that, like almost everything else in his life, it had been a mistake.

Avery had emailed her back with one simple word. Congrats. That was the last he'd heard from her. The only other shred of evidence he had that his parents were even still living was his monthly allowance, and even that had been signed and sent by his father's personal assistant.

The monthly checks would stop though once Avery turned twenty-one, and his trust fund would become available to him. He was a little sad to think that he had only two more years left, and then all ties with his family would be officially severed.

Avery flipped through the channels aimlessly not really paying attention to anything that was on, not that there was anything interesting on. Just the usual day time dramas, talk shows, infomercials, and cartoons. Nothing at all of interest to him; if it wasn't for the scary movies that sometimes played on the Sci-Fi channel, he would have considered having the cable turned off.

As it was, he wasn't really in the mood to watch anything. Honestly, he was only in the mood for one thing and unfortunately for him Rick was still asleep so that basically killed that idea.

He considered taking a cold shower, but where was the fun in that? If he were going to take a shower at all, he wanted it to be a long, hot, and sultry shower, and he'd prefer that Rick join him. They've yet to make love in the shower, and that was something Avery desperately wanted to try, but it would have to wait. He wasn't going to wake Rick up, not after he'd worked all night.

Avery sighed in frustration, and then flopped back on the couch, dropping the TV remote onto the coffee table beside him. He needed fucked, and he needed it bad. He reached down and slid his hand over the front of his trunks, rubbing himself through the fabric. His cock, already semi-hard, immediately sprang to life once he'd touched it.

Avery closed his eyes and moaned, tightening his grip. He massaged himself, pulling hard and fast at the bulge behind the material of his shorts until he felt the front of his shorts become wet with his passion. He moved his hand to the waist band of his shorts, slipping the hand beneath the fabric. His fingers brushed over the soft tuff of hair between his legs before finding the erect organ, smooth and slippery from his juices.

He wrapped his fingers around the shaft, letting them slide along the length of it. He started playing with the head of his dick, moving his thumb around the slit, pulling at it and pinching it. It felt so good that his entire body erupted in small, excited shivers. He repeated the motion again, sliding his thumb over the head, and then moving his fingers up and down along the warm, fleshy organ, then back up to the head, teasing it and grasping at it with his finger tips as he continued to manipulate the slit.

He could feel a warm sensation rising up his cock, like the warm light of the sun, rising up a mountainous peek, and casting its fiery glow over a newly awakened country side.

He leaned his head back and groaned loudly as the pleasure mounted. His cock was throbbing as waves of erotic sensation began coursing through his dick, and into his balls, and thighs. He pumped his cock faster and more vigorously, demanding it's release.

His aching balls gave a final, spastic, jerk as he felt his fluids suddenly gushing over his fingers, his cock erupting like a fount of glorious, hot, sticky, white, lava.

"Oh God..." He moaned low and heavy, as a sense total satisfaction slowly began to wash over him. It wasn't as sensual or as pleasurable as having Rick's hot, wet, mouth devouring his cock, but it was enough to relieve the urge...for now.

He pulled a couple tissues from the box on the end table and wiped his hand clean. He'd take a shower later, but for the moment he just wanted to relax. He leaned back and closed his eyes. The TV was off and the apartment was quiet save for the soft low hum of the furnace that kicked on and off in regular intervals. He normally didn't turn the heat on this early in the season but it had been unusually cold that year, especially in the mornings, and he hated waking up to a cold house.

He was on the verge of dozing off when an unexpected noise caught his attention. He opened his eyes and sat up right on the couch, and listened.

There is was again.

He knew that sound. It was the creaking of the boards that made up the upper level decks outside.

He'd heard that sound enough times in the two years since he'd lived there. The boards always creaked when someone walked past his apartment, especially when they walked a little too close to the double window that looked into his living room.

What surprised him though was what he didn't hear. The apartment on the very end was rented by a single mother and her three small children. At this time of day she would normally be at work and the kids at the sitters or in day care. But even if she had gotten home early, the kids would be hyper, overly excited, laughing and shouting and making a lot of noise as they ran down the walkway.

Avery knew the unmistakable sounds of their tiny feet thumping along the wooden planks, and then the softer, slower, longer strides of their mother as she dragged herself along after them, weary from a long day of waiting tables.

Avery didn't hear the children though. And he didn't hear the rhythmic footfalls of their mother as she moved past his place to her own door. The footsteps that he'd heard seemed to stop somewhere just out front, on the other side of his door.

Avery sat there, quietly, his heart suddenly beating faster in his chest as he held his breath. The floor boards creaked again as a shadow moved past the closed curtains that shielded his window. He knew that whoever was out there would be unable to see him, but still a kind of panic began to build up inside of him.

Rick was in the bedroom asleep; Trash would have come down the walkway like a stampede of elephants and then pounded relentless on the door until Avery answered. Boomer would have most likely called first before coming over but even if he didn't, he would have knocked. This person seemed to be carefully checking out the apartment, as if he or she were trying to tell if anyone was home.

That made Avery slightly nervous. If it was someone he knew, why wouldn't they just announce themselves?

Avery sat motionless, just staring at the window. The shadowy figure stood there, as if staring back at him though Avery knew that wasn't possible. He thought about making a quick dash for the bedroom and waking Rick up, but he was too scared to move, too afraid that whoever was out there might hear him through the thin walls and know that he was there.

He stared at that figure for what seemed like forever and then, as quickly as the person had appeared, they just as abruptly left. Avery let out an exasperated breath of relief. He waited a few moments for his breathing to calm and his heart to stop pounding, and then, when he was certain he was alone again, he jumped up from the couch and hurried down the hallway and into his bedroom.

Rick was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring angrily at the boy in front of him.

"Why the hell didn't you tell me about this before?" He demanded.

Avery shrugged. "I didn't really think it was that important."

"You didn't think some guy lurking around outside the bar was important?" He narrowed his eyes and groaned. "That's the whole problem Avery, you never think! You should have told me about it as soon as I got home. At least you had the sense to have Boomer drive you back!"

"Hey, don't get pissy with me!" Avery crossed his arms over his chest and sulked. "I just forgot about it. You were home, and I didn't want to bother you with anything, plus I feel safe with you here so I didn't really think anything of it. I certainly didn't expect someone to be hanging around outside watching the place. It's just too creepy. I don't even know who that guy was; I'd never seen him before."

Rick stood up, walked to the dresser, and grabbed the pack of cigarettes behind Avery. He shook one out of the pack and popped it in his mouth then lit it.

"You still should have told me." Rick exhaled a large cloud of smoke as he looked at

Avery, his expression stern. "After what Mikey did to you, I don't trust the guy."

"You think he's stalking me now?" Avery asked.

Rick shrugged his shoulders. "All I know is that I wouldn't put anything passed that guy. He's nuts."

Avery looked down. A look of real concern had fallen over his innocent and child-like features.

If Mikey was stalking him, what was his purpose? To scare Avery; if that were the case then it worked, he was scared. He figured that Mikey was just trying to intimidate him, rattle his nerves, like when he showed up at Shaggys on Halloween night. Maybe it was all just a game that Mikey was playing. Once he got his obsession with Avery out of his system he would lose interest and move on. At least, that's what Avery hoped would happen.

It occurred to him that he honestly didn't know Mikey well enough to really make an accurate assumption as to what he was thinking, or what he was capable of doing. Mikey had a dark side that Avery had the unfortunate experience of seeing only once before. In the short time that he had known him, Avery had never realized just how cruel and heartless Mikey could be.

Even under the guise of his so called love, his actions were a clear indication of the storm that was brewing within. The problem was, no one really knew when it was coming, or how fierce it would be, and that was what really terrified Avery the most. Perhaps not knowing, was the most frightening of all.

___________________________________________________________________

It was a quarter till five in the morning. Boomer hadn't been home an hour when he got a call from Bower security. They were calling to alert him that the alarm at the bar had been tripped and the police had been dispatched to the location.

"Great..." Boomer groaned as he hung up the receiver. He put his coat back on, grabbed his keys, and then stormed out the door.

Boomer unlocked the front door and let himself and one of the officers inside. The second, a younger man with bright orange hair and a baby face, was scouting the outside of the building with a flash light, looking for points of entry. Boomer walked in behind the older, more seasoned officer, a man who looked to be in his late forties with a thick bushy mustache and a look on his face like he'd rather be anywhere else than where he presently was.

"Most of these calls are false." The officer told him. "Usually the wind trips the alarm, or a brief power flux, but we're required to investigate each call just in case."

"Yeah, I'm sure it's nothing." Boomer agreed as he flipped on the lights.

At first, everything looked exactly the way he'd left it earlier. The chairs were propped up on the tables; the floors were swept and clear of any trash or debris. The ancient karaoke machine sat beside an old TV near the stage, exactly where Avery had left it when he cleaned up. But, as Boomer surveyed the area he caught his breath suddenly, as a slight panic gripped him.

The door near the bar that led to the back storage room was standing wide open, and he knew for a fact that that door had been closed and locked, before he left for the night.

Making his way back to the room, Boomer's heart sank as he saw the second officer coming out of the room.

"Someone busted the lock out of the back door." The officer explained. "Looks like they might have used a crow bar or something, the door's pretty banged up, and was left ajar."

"Do you notice anything missing?" The older officer looked at Boomer as he pulled out a black note pad and began jotting down information.

Boomer walked to the open door and stared inside the room. What he saw in that room caused his stomach to twist in knots as he balled his hands into tight fists and grit his teeth. The room was a complete mess. The table had been over turned, chairs were thrown about, and any equipment that was left in the room was trashed beyond repair.

Aside from Trash's drums and an older keyboard that Rick used for rehearsals only, no other instruments had been kept at the bar, though Trash had an amp that he kept in the back, along with a microphone and some cables.

It literally looked like someone had a taken a ball bat to most of the stuff. The drums were broken, bashed, and in complete ruin. The microphone stand lay in pieces on the floor. The mic itself was missing, probably hidden beneath the chairs, broken boxes, or other discarded equipment. The cables had been cut, probably with a knife, and from the smell of the place, Boomer guessed that whoever had broken in had urinated on everything before leaving.

He could almost have been convinced that this was just some random act of vandalism by some young punks with too much time on their hands, if not for one very personal message that was left behind. Across the fall wall one word was scrawled in very large, bright red letters.