dontravis.com blog post #631
So
last week, we saw Colin Ragner, who obviously dislikes gays, arranging to buy a
boy from a young, blond, obviously gay man called Kevin Tolliver. What’s up
with that?
Let’s
find out.
****
BOY
FOR SALE
Colin was a patient man, but
Kevin Tolliver wore it to a frazzle by dawdling over dinner, and dessert, and
an after-dinner drink. What was that kid Barton doing while they were wasting
time here. He wanted to pay for the goods and then depart with the “package,”
nothing more or nothing less.
He mentally shook himself.
Settle down. Barton will be just as good later as he is now. So play this weirdo’s
game.
And a game it was, with
frequent intimate touches on the arm, leaning forward and laughing intimately, and
occasionally dropping the voice to a whisper. Lots of raucous laughter that
brought eyes of everyone in the joint to their table.
Abruptly, Tolliver swept to
his feet—he apparently didn’t get up and sit down like everyone else, he did it
dramatically. “Ready? Let’s go to your place,” the blond said loudly enough for
most of the room to hear.
Colin stood, placed his napkin
on the table, snatched the bill, and headed for the cashier, muttering his
hotel room number to his tormentor. Buying a boy from some creep shouldn’t be
so involved. Hand over the money, get the boy and go, that’s how it should be.
And that’s all it would be from now on. The games were over.
Colin turned over his car for
valet parking and strode into the lobby of the Manchester Hotel feeling as if he
looked like the fool he felt. He’d lost control of the situation, something he
should never have allowed to happen. As he entered the elevation, he muttered
the words he should have said in the first place, “Pony up, buster, or I’m gone.”
He took his irritation out on the button calling for the fourth floor.
He'd barely shed his coat
before the expected knock came. He admitted Tolliver, turning his back on him
insolently and striding into the room.
Kevin Tolliver glanced around.
“Nice. Make a nice love nest.”
“I wouldn’t know. Let’s get
down to business.”
“My, my, impatient, aren’t we?
You’re not even going to offer me a libation?”
“You’ve libated on all of my
time you’re going to.” Colin reached under a table and brought out a thick
envelope. “Fifty thousand, like we agreed.”
Tolliver accepted the package.
“You won’t mind if I count it, will you.”
“Count it, and then let’s get
going.”
“You’re really hot for this
kid, aren’t you?” the blond said.
“Stop the sleaze talk and
start counting.”
“You’re beginning to sound
like you don’t enjoy my company. Oh, well, let’s complete our business.”
The room was silent for the
next few minutes as Tolliver counted the money… twice. Finally he looked up. “Looks
like it’s all here.”
“Great. Where’s the kid?”
“I’ve decided to up the ante,”
Tolliver said. “I want something else.”
“A deal’s a deal. The James
family isn’t all that wealthy. You should have kidnapped a bigger fish if you
wanted more money.”
“Oh, the money’s quite
adequate. It meets my needs quite adequately. But you’ve been so insolently
charming, I want something else.”
“If not money, what?”
“You.”
Colin’s eyebrows shot up.
Revulsion crawled up his spine. “Me? No way, you slime ball. You’re not putting
your hands on me.”
“Oh, it’s not my hands I want
to put on you, sweetie. Look at it this way, you can just lie back and enjoy it,
and the James family gets their darling boy back no worse for the wear. Or we
can go to war and somebody gets hurt.”
“Meaning you.”
“Possibly, but what about poor
Barton. He might not come out of this so well, either. Why make it hard? Just
give me what I want. After all, it is your fault, you know.”
“Mine? How in the hell is it
my fault.”
Tolliver smiled, dimpling his
left cheek. “Well, first… you’re much hunkier than I expected. Downright sexy. And
second, you’ve been sort of rude to me. Not overtly, but still quite dissing. So
I want payback. And I can’t imagine any payback more distasteful to you.”
“You’re a real bastard, you
know that, don’t you,” Colins said between clenched teeth. “How do I even know
you’ve got the kid.”
“Oh, I’m prepared for that.
Proof of life, isn’t that what they call it?” Tolliver took out his phone and poked
some buttons. A moment later, he spoke into the mouthpiece. “Hi, doll. Yeah,
took longer than I thought. He insisted we have dinner first. Oh, yeah, he’s
dishy. You’d eat him up. Remember, we’re on face time. I’m going to hand the
phone to him, you point it at dear Barton. Don’t say anything, and don’t show
your face. Might want to have Barton move so our private investigator knows he’s
alive. Then terminate the call. Understood?”
A moment later, he handed the
little instrument to Colin. After some dizzying movement, a youth lying naked
on a bed came into focus Anxiety was evident in the features, but they were
handsome, nonetheless. Good definition of the body. No gag, but the eyes had a
vacant look. Drugged, most likely.
“Barton, are you okay?” Colin
demanded.
The boy started, then nodded
and muttered something that sounded like “Kay.”
Tolliver snatched the phone
back and killed the call. “Satisfied?”
“Yeah.”
“Now, let’s satisfy me.”
Colin gritted his teeth. Why
the hell not? He’d done some screwy things while ransoming kidnap victims
before, but none as screwy as this.
With a sigh, he tore off his
shirt.
Aha, so Colin’s
a private investigator paid to ransom the Jones family’s kidnapped son and heir,
Barton. Wonder how the kid got himself in that kind of jam? Some sort of a gay
threesome with the wrong people? Who knows… but we can imagine all sorts of
scenarios, can’t we?
Until next week, stay safe and stay strong.
Now my
mantra: Keep on reading and keep on writing. You have something to say… so
say it! And for those of you who also read Mark Wildyr’s blog, don’t forget
it was my mantra first!
Please
check out my BJ Vinson murder mystery series starting with The Zozobra
Incident and ending with The Cutie-Pie Murders. I may be biased, but
I think they’d make great Christmas gifts for the right person.
My
personal links:
Email: don.travis@aol.com.
Facebook: www.facebook.com/donald.travis.982
Twitter: @dontravis3
See you next Thursday.
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