Page 82 of The Attercop

“Once this is all done, Mom’s going to take us away from this boring town and go somewhere nice. I think we’ll be working for the organisation on a more international level…far away from Cowtown.” She looked over at Charlie, wide-eyed. “We’re going somewhere the Canadian government can’t touch us. Some place warm. But first we have to prove that we have theright stuff. So, once we take care of the two of you, then we’re in.”

“This is so fucked up, Jules,” Charlie said. “You’re never going to get away with this.”

“Oh, I think you’re wrong there, Charlie-boy. Now…it’s time to take you where we’re holding Declan. Tyler has a special surprise planned for you.”

Charlie closed his eyes. He hoped that everything that had been said in the car had been recorded, that Sam and Gary were able to follow him, and that they would arrive in time to save Declan’s life.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Declan woke from a feverish dream. He was still lying on the table, tied down and his head was still hooded. He listened for anything—a breath, a shifting foot, a car passing on the street outside, assuming there was a street outside. The only sound was a mild buzzing in his head, probably from the drugs he’d been given. He was alone. How long ago did The Attercop abandon him? A minute? An hour? A day, maybe. A thought crossed his mind—maybe he was dead. Perhaps he had died in his sleep, and this was what the afterlife was like–dull, boring emptiness.

The sound of a sliding door shook Declan out of his thoughts.

“Well, Declan,” The Attercop said, “it’s time to get you ready for Charlie’s arrival and the final act of our little play.”

Click-click-click-click.

Declan heard the now-familiar sound of the utility knife. He felt the blade against his skin as his underwear was slowly sliced off.

The Attercop inhaled quickly. “Just as delicious as I remember.” This was followed by the sound of footsteps disappearing out of the room, then…running water. As The Attercop returned, Declan heard liquid sloshing around in a container.

“Gotta get you all cleaned up before company arrives,” the man said.

He began with Declan’s upper thighs, wiping carefully, even taking the time to slide the cloth under his legs. Declan smelledthe scent of soap—one far fancier than he ever used. The man shifted his focus upwards, gently washing the sides of Declan’s muscular buttocks. He could hear the rate of the man’s breathing increase. Declan flexed his glutes and the cloth slid under his butt. The man left his hand there for a moment before withdrawing it and moving to the other side. There was more rinsing of the cloth before he returned to work, wiping Declan’s lower abs, spending time to softly cleanse his navel.

“Now for the fun part,” The Attercop said, as he cleaned Declan’s pubic hair, then slid down the sides of his scrotum. The underneath region, from testicles to anus were scrubbed, then the cloth was thoroughly rinsed before returning to slowly bathe Declan’s penis.

Declan didn’t want to respond to the touch, but his body betrayed him. “Please, stop.”

“Oh, this is just the beginning, but I’ll move on for now. I want to have an audience for theclimaxof the play.”

The Attercop shifted his attention to Declan’s upper body, bathing his hands and arms, paying considerable attention to his armpits. It was all precisely performed, like a cleansing rite for an animal being prepared for sacrificial slaughter.

As The Attercop moved to Declan’s neck, the cloth got tangled in the ties of the hood.

“The hood is getting in your way,” Declan said. “If you remove it, you’ll make it easier for yourself. Besides, I’d really like to know who’s been fondling me. You have good hands. Show me who you are.” He wasn’t sure if his captor would fall for flattery, but Declan had to try. If he recognised the person, he might remember something he could use against them.

The Attercop paused. “I was going to remove the hood once Charlie got here, but seeing as you’re well shackled, I don’t see any harm in doing it now.”

Declan felt hands working on the ties at the back of his head. The hood slid off. Declan couldn’t make out anything clearly. The ceiling lights were blindingly bright. He closed his eyes.

“Your eyes will get used to the light soon,” The Attercop said. He gently stroked Declan’s face with the cloth. Declan slowly opened his eyes and got his first glimpse of The Attercop. The man was smiling. “Well?” he said. “Surprised?”

Declan searched his memory, but he drew a blank. “I don’t remember you. Are you sure we’ve met?”

A look of disappointment crossed The Attercop’s face. “Maybe if you see me the way you did when we encountered each other at The Greek, you’ll remember me.”

The Attercop stepped back, stripped off all his clothes and slowly rotated, giving Declan a full view.

Declan shook his head.“Sorry, I don’t remember you. Maybe it was all of those drugs you’ve used on me. My brain’s still a bit foggy.”

The Attercop came closer.

Click-click-click-click.

“Are yousureyou don’t remember me?”

Suddenly it came to Declan. He knew who this was, and in spite of himself, he laughed.