Chapter 30

CHAPTER THIRTY

CARTER

Since Brendon took Artie to the doctor after school, I'm on my own for dinner and decide to pick up some pizza, making sure to get enough so that there are leftovers for when the guys get home.

My hands are full of pizza boxes as I leave our favorite spot, and I almost run into someone who is walking down the street.

"Shit. I'm so sorry," I apologize, trying to make sure I don't drop the boxes.

"It's okay. I should have been paying more attention to where I was going," the man says, and I realize that it's Matais.

"It's totally okay. You're Matais, right?" I check with him, and he nods.

"That's me, and you're Carter?"

I smile at him. "Yup. Brendon told me a lot about you last year. You pretty much saved his ass with that assignment the two of you worked on."

He waves me off. "It was an easy assignment and Brendon was busy with basketball. It was the least I could do to take on the majority of the workload. Do you need help with those pizzas?" he asks, and I half shrug, half nod.

"Sure, if you don't mind, you can grab one if you'd like," I tell him, and he grabs one of the boxes from my hands and follows me to my car.

"You know, Carter, I really wish you'd have listened, then it wouldn't have come to this. This is really your own fault. So… sorry… not sorry," he murmurs, and before I can process what he's saying, I feel a sting in my neck.

Oh Shit! Matais is M! And… and…

But I can't think anymore. My head spins, making me stumble. The pizzas in my hands fall as numbness engulfs my whole body, washing over me like a tidal wave. Then I'm falling fast, prepared to hit the ground, but it doesn't come. My world goes dark.

"Ugggghhhh," I groan out loud. It's the first thing I'm aware of as I slowly wake up with a splitting headache. "Fuck, B. What the hell did we drink?" I manage to force out between my dry lips. My mouth feels like it's the Sahara Desert; it puts a whole new spin on the term ‘dry mouth', that's for sure.

My head is spinning, so I keep my eyes shut and just breathe while focusing on waking up. What the hell did we do last night? I don't remember much at all, and I'm starting to think that whatever it was, I won't want to do it again because this hangover is next level shitty.

"Yo, B! Do you feel as awful as me?" I croak out again in my half-awake state.

I go to reach out to him, but I can't move. All at once, memories crash their way back into my skull, making me reel and want to vomit. Bile rises up into the back of my throat, but with a concerted effort, I manage to push it back down. The acrid taste of it is left in my mouth, not making the dry-mouth situation any better.

I manage to peel my eyes open but am still left in the dark.

Shifting my weight around, I find that my ankles are bound together by rope that has been wound around and around them before being passed between my ankles and feet to bind the rope loops together. This creates thick manacles that are impossible to get out of without undoing the knots. My wrists are bound likewise behind my back, making undoing them hopeless.

Already, I'm struggling to keep my anxiety from overwhelming me, but I can feel the panic rising like a tsunami on the horizon. It's not here yet, but it will be.

"But it's not here yet," I whisper out loud. "What would B do?" I ask myself a little bit louder. My BFF turned boyfriend is the calmest and most logical guy I know while under pressure. It's one of the things that makes him an incredible team captain.

"Ok, ok… think… think… the basics. What basic information can I figure out?"

How about… Where the fuck am I? That's a good place to start.

It's completely dark wherever this is. I squirm around and can feel a slightly rough texture against my hands. I rub the side of one of my tied hands against it but quickly stop as the friction is chafing my skin. It's rug-burn! This must be a carpeting material of some kind. Well, that's something at least. But where?

I shuffle and squirm some more, then using the heel of my hand and as many fingers as I can, I push off hard, trying to sit up.

My head is barely a foot or so higher when it comes crashing into something hard and unforgiving. "Ahhh… what the…"

My whole body falls back down again, but this time, I've managed to land on my other side.

I'm clearly in a confined space of some kind. That's when I see it. A small glow-in-the-dark square with an image of a car on it. I'm in the trunk of a car!

Matais, that shithead, has locked me in a fucking trunk! But why?

He must be the M from the note, and now he's fucking drugged and kidnapped me.

But what exactly does he plan to do with me? If he just wanted me out of the picture, he would have killed me already, but I'm still alive, which means he has more up his sleeve.

I need to get out of wherever I am now!

That's when I recall the glowing square. Like most people, M must not realize that all cars after a certain date have a safety release in the trunk. Now, I just need to find a way to press it.

I have no idea how long I try to find a way to push the damn button, but It feels like hours. Each passing moment has that tsunami of anxiety rising higher and higher. It's now of skyscraper proportions, and all at once it slams down on me.

I completely let go and fall into hysterics.

I scream and cry… sob and plead… a beg to be let out. I beg to live!

The terror is overwhelming me. I'm losing myself to it. I wish Brendon was here to hold me, to push back the darkness that threatens to overtake me. Brendon… My Brendon… B… my other half… my soul mate… my light in the darkness!

That's what he is. He's my flashlight, my security, my home, my lifeline.

He's my everything.

It's as simple as that. I don't know why I didn't see it before. It's almost too obvious. We've built our lives together and around each other; our lives have been so intertwined since we were little. Our refusal to have it any other way, even way back then, speaks volumes to the strength of our connection.

I need Brendon at this moment, and maybe he can help me, even if he's not here. I focus all my thoughts on him as I go through some breathing techniques to try and get myself together.

I think about all the times we played as children, all the trouble we used to get into together. I think about us first learning to play basketball and how quickly we both became obsessed. We'd spend hours and hours together playing in his driveway or mine, competing to see who could make more baskets while moving farther and farther back.

I think about high school, and more ball. Learning to perfect our jump-shots and lay-ups. Going on dates with girls and hating anytime either of us had a girlfriend because we'd see each other less.

It's working. I can feel the inner darkness that's been hovering all too close, being pushed back by my memories. I latch on to that fact and keep going.

I think about graduating and us both coming to GSU together. All the years of practices and games. Time spent together on and off the court. Our bi awakening and discovering just how deep our feelings for each other go. Holding him and being held. Connecting on a whole new level and the incredible feeling of rightness and finally being complete… of home. That's the exact word… home. Brendon is my home, just like I'm his.

Finally my heart rate slows, and my breathing becomes more even and deeper. I take a few minutes to hold myself mentally in the warmth of everything that is Brendon and me.

When I'm ready, I turn my thoughts back to the here and now but decide not to give into the panic this time —I can't. I have to be smarter. I have to survive this. I have to get back to the love of my life.

I think about Matais and all that I can remember about him from the stuff Brendon mentioned last year. He's a loner type, shy at first, but warmed up quickly once he was comfortable. Brendon has that effect on people. Even so, the guy was always the quiet type, a real brooder.

That must be when it happened. That must be when Matais first crushed on Brendon. But to him, Brendon was the unattainable, alpha male, sports God, who was straight. Somehow, he's learned that Brendon isn't as straight as he once thought.

That must be it. That's what is driving Matais. He has to think that he has a shot with him. If it weren't for me, that is.

Well, too damn bad, asshole. Brendon is mine, you fucker, and that's never going to change. My only hope is that Matais has more planned for me and that he's not left me to slowly die in this trunk.

Maybe the only reason I'm still alive right now is because Matais didn't want to kill me in town and has some other plan instead. As sick as it is, I have to hope for that option. Unfortunately, there's still a strong possibility that my death is imminent.

Hot tears trail down my cheeks as my chest tightens at the thought, but I quickly rein it in. I refuse to go down that path again. I need to stay calm. I need to focus so I can find a way forward. My only chance is going to be to try and use Matais' feelings against him. I'm not sure how yet, but I'll have to think on the fly.

I'm not sure how long it has been since I woke up, but it's been dead silent the entire time. Eerily so. I must be in the middle of nowhere so there isn't even use in screaming. I just have to wait to see what Matais is going to do with me.

I'm beginning to think he's just going to leave me in this trunk to rot when, all at once, three things happen in rapid succession. I hear the back passenger door open, the seat back behind me drops down, and a needle is jabbed into my butt cheek.

Damn it to hell. Not again!