Gage lay completely still in the darkness, while listening to scratching sounds of a key being turned in the lock of his door. Shivering, he pulled the cover up tightly around his neck, trying to lose himself in the massive four-poster bed where he had been placed only a few hours earlier.
He knew it was that monster again, because it had checked on him once already.
He had feigned sleep earlier, when it had approached, suppressing a shiver of revulsion when it had reached out a cold hand and had brushed a stray piece of hair off his forehead, and now as a beam of light from the hallway entered the room, he squeezed his eyes closed tightly, pretending sleep once again.
As the monster drew nearer, Gage prayed that it would quickly check him and leave.
It made very little sound as it advanced toward the bed--only a small whispering of some kind of fabric, moving against the floor-- but it was there, all right.
Gage tried to make his breathing more shallow as he lay under his protective covering, but his bare body was quivering with fear. And As he lay there shivering, he reminded himself that the monster had not killed him yet and that must be a good sign.
He also told himself that when morning came he would find a way to make his escape.
Gage became aware that the creature was somwhow listening to his thoughts, so he tried his best to cover them with a cloak of nothingness.
As Vincent crept nearer, Gage caught a whiff of the damp, earthy aroma that emanated from him, and his upper lip twitched spasmodically in response. Positive that the monster would know that he was awake because of that small uncontrollable gesture, Gage felt despair.
He twitched again when he felt the frozen hands touching the skin on his face, and a small whimper escaped him before he could suppress it.
"I knew you were not asleep," the velvety voice of the monster purred into the shell of his ear, causing a jolt revulsion to pass through him.
"I brought you something to help you rest, young one. Sit up and drink it."
Poison! Gage's mind screamed out. The monster was going to kill him with poison! Waves of panic coursed through him, causing him to shiver even more under the warmth of the blankets.
"No, it's not poison, Gage," the monster said, apparently reading his thoughts. "I will never harm you, you must trust me. I would never poison my companion. Now, sit up, and drink."
The last two words were spoken more loudly, and Gage, utterly terrified that the creature would raise its voice to the volume it had earlier that evening, clutched the blankets around himself and obeyed. He tottered a little when the covers became entangled around him.
He stared at the massive, dark shape that loomed over him. The monster was absolutely huge in the darkness, and he felt as small as a child next to it.
When he felt the coldness of steel touching his lips, his flight response kicked in and he reflexively brought his hand up, pushing the goblet away from his mouth. He then darted from beneath the safety of the covers and made a mad scramble for the edge of the bed.
"STOP!!"
Gage reflexively put his hands to his ears and then sat back on his heels, moaning. Grimacing in agony, he realized he had never known that loud sound could cause actual physical pain. Well, he knew now.
He was grabbed up by the creature before the pain of the volume had died away, and he cried out in terror, "Please, don't hurt me!"
Gage could feel the monster's anger in the short sharp movements, and as it wrestled him close to it's body, a flash of memory broke the horror of the moment. His father had grabbed him in anger like that one time, and had begun to suddenly hit him, using the belt from his own pants. The searing sting and the brutal violence of it had made him scream in pain and terror, and now, after years had passed, he still felt contempt for his father, and his out-of-control temper.
The bad memory faded as quickly as it had come, while he continued his useless struggles with the monster. He was quickly overpowered.
"Perhaps that is what I should do, young one. I'm almost certain there is a strap of leather in the wardrobe, with which I could punish you like your father once did. Is that what you want?"
Gage, wide-eyed, face only inches from the creature's, exhaled shakily, and while still trying to shield his thoughts from it, he whispered, "No, please don't."
He heard a small chuckle that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, and he gaped at the face before him, trying to make out the features so it would seem more...human. Dark, glossy, crescent-shaped eyes stared back at him through the dimness of the room, and he shuddered, seeing no trace of anything remotely human in their depths.
Once again he felt cold metal pushed against his mouth. "Drink this, Gage, it is only a sleeping aid that Richard concocted for you," Vincent said, "It will not harm you, but will enable you to relax and sleep."
Trapped by the creature's steely arm, Gage reluctantly opened his lips and sipped at the liquid in the cup. It was bitter with some kind of herbs, and he cringed a little. Surrendering, he drank it down quickly, and waited for the cramping, agonizing pain that he had once read that poisoning could cause. At that moment he almost wished he could die quickly so the nightmare would end.
"Good boy," he heard Vincent murmur, "you have pleased me by your obedience, and tomorrow you shall be rewarded for it. Now sleep."
Vincent's hands were on Gage's hair and his face, stroking with butterfly soft movements, and despite the icy chill of those fingers, Gage felt his eyelids flickering a little and his body relaxing. He realized, as a soothing sense of warmth flooded through him, that no one, since his mother had died, had petted him.
"Sleep," the monster repeated in a tone that was strangely soothing.
Gage's breathing became easier and his body rocked slightly back and forth to the timing of his own heartbeat while he was held by the thing sitting on the bed with him. "I know what you are," he said, barely above a whisper, his voice slightly slurred. "I had a dream about you, once."
He felt himself pulled tighter against Vincent's chest, and he gasped a little.
Then suddenly, the clarity of the dream he had only a few weeks ago was stunning him, making him feel like he was falling into a swirling abyss. He clutched at the monster for the first time since he had been taken captive and began to cry against the hard, cold chest. "I thought it was good dream, you were my friend and I felt safe with you," he finally choked out, fighting against the vulnerability of sleep which was threatening to overtake him.
The steely arms held him tight, but there was almost a sweetness to the voice as Vincent spoke to him. "So, it wasn't just my imagining after all. You truly did call out to me from your dreams....Don't fear me, my beloved Gage. I will make certain that your cry will not be in vain. You will be happy here...and safe."
Gage's eyelids flickered open for a moment as he tried to muster the strength to deny that he had ever called out to Vincent, but his body felt heavy and sluggish and he couldn't manage the effort of speaking the words.
The brush of cold lips against his forehead and a drop of something wet plopping onto his cheek, were the last things he remembered before sleep overtook him.
He awoke with a small contented smile of unawareness on his lips, and while languidly stretching his limbs, he noticed the faint streams of light that entered through an opening in the heavy drapes across the room. It was then that he was jolted back into the reality of his situation.
Feeling a heavy weight of despair descend upon him, he sat up, yawned, and then noticing an itching sensation on his cheek, he scratched, then looked with alarm at the dried blood under his nails. Gage quickly felt all over his face and head, searching for a wound, but then remembering the splattering on his cheek the night before, he stopped and exhaled. Obviously, the monster had dropped blood on him, but why? Was it some sort of ritual that the evil thing had concocted, like voo-doo, to keep him prisoner?
He licked his palm then scrubbed at his cheek, feeling revolted at the thought of sleeping with Vincents blood on him.
He then quickly scanned the room for the clothes he had been forced to wear the night before. Maybe, he thought, the window might be unlocked and he could find his way out of this house of horrors.
Gage scrambled out of bed, and after pulling at the doors of the wardrobe and finding them locked, he knelt on the carpeted floor, searching under the bed for the purple velvet shirt and soft leather pants he had chosen from the wardrobe. As he was lying flat on his chest, reaching under the bed, he heard the click of the door being unlocked.
Scrambling to his feet, he made a dive on top of the feather mattress, but before he could burrow beneath the covers, the door opened.
"Hello."
Gage jerked his head at the unfamiliar voice, then grabbed at the covers and wrapped them around himself. "Who are you?" He panted out, his heart thumping painfully in his ribcage. "What do you want?"
The man walked further into the bedroom and quietly closed the door behind him, before turning a bland face toward Gage. " I am Richard...the cook."
Gage could sense the antipathy the man held for him, and the clipped sound of his voice grated on his already raw nerves. "Well, what do you want?" he demanded again.
He noticed Richard's thin lipped smile at his question, and it sent a small shiver of fear through him.
"You want to escape from Master's house, do you not?" Richard asked in a monotone. "I have the key right here. Come along and I will release you."
Gage stared at the key the man dangled from a chain in his hand, his heart leaping for joy at the thought of escape. He smiled broadly then, ignoring the trepidation he felt, and the niggling feeling that this all seemed too easy.
No longer caring that he was nude, he slipped out of the bed and stood in front of Richard, reaching for the key, which was quickly jerked away from his fingers. "I'll show you out of the villa, but you must promise me that you will go quickly and will never return."
Looking warily at the balding, middle aged man, Gage nodded. "OK, I promise. Why would I want to come back, anyway?"
Dark, beady eyes bored into his own. "There is no reason for you to return. you don't belong here."
Gage pressed his full lips together, as he once more focused on the tantalizing shine of the key in the other man's hand. "I need some clothes and...where is Vincent? is he still asleep? What if he catches us?"
Hearing the mirthless laugh he got in response, Gage studied the older man carefully, trying to decide if what was being offered was a trap of some kind. After all, why would Vincent trust this man to be his...what had he called him the night before? His...caretaker, if he was untrustworthy?
Knowing it might be his only chance of escape, Gage pushed his misgivings away. They were immediately replaced with a giddy sense of excitement. "I need clothes, Richard. I can't find the ones I wore last night. The wardrobe is locked."
Nodding tersely, Richard went over to stand before the wardrobe and with his back to Gage, quickly unlocked it. "We must hurry," he said, his voice still a monotone.
A few moments later, Gage was dressed and was slowly following Richard down a ornately decorated hallway. He looked at one of the flickering candleabra and wondered once again where Vincent was. The words that the monster said to him the night before came back to him, as they quietly descended the stairway, "You must obey, or I will punish you." The frightening warning resonated as if it were coming from Vincent at that very moment, and was not simply a memory from the night before.
He quickened his pace and in another few minutes, he was standing out in the morning sun, blinking up at the sky. "Thank you, Richard," he said, a smile of sheer happiness on his face.
Just as he was turning to leave, he heard the man's warning. "Don't ever come back here. Master is going to be very angry with me that you've escaped. If you return... I will have to kill you."
He nodded, and after pulling up the collar of the jacket Richard handed him, Gage trotted down the path that led away from the villa and the horrors that lay within. "I won't return!" he called back, and then as the caretakers bleak face receded into the distance, he let out a whoop of pure joy. He was free!
As he cradled his head in his hands, worried about spending the night outdoors, he tried to understand why nobody had stopped to pick him up. Hundreds and hundreds of cars had zoomed by that day and not one had even slowed down.
His head jerked up when he heard a howl in the distance, and a primitive fear kicked in at the sound. Standing, he peered into the deepening gloom around him and making out a clump of trees a few hundred yards away, he jogged toward it for shelter.
Pushing his back against a large oak, he put his hands on his knees and tried to catch his breath, as tears finally leaked from his exhausted eyes. "Mama, I wish you were here with me," he murmured miserably, as he remembered how this nightmarish journey had begun. As Gage cried, he remembered how he had left the house that had been home when his mother had been alive, but had disintegrated into a place of sheer misery after she had died.
When Gage heard another howl, he slid down the tree trunk and pulled his knees up to his chest for protection. The howl didn't sound like it came from a dog, it sounded more wild and more...ominous, to his ears. It seemed to him, in his extreme state of anxiety and exhaustion, that the predatory howl was meant just for him!
He shook the blond hair from his eyes and then tucked his chin onto his knees and began slowly rocking. Trying to ignore the darkening sky and the howling sound--which was getting closer--he imagined he was being rocked by his mother in her old mahogany rocking chair. She had always been so gentle and sweet to him, and the memory of those moments when his father was gone, and it was just the two of them, quietly rocking, enveloped his heart, making it almost seem like he was back with her, once again, safe and protected.
Calming down a little, his mind went back to the day he had left home, and the time he spent on the road the last week or so. He particularly remembered a day, when he was walking along a highway, wet and miserable from the steady trickle of rain that had continued throughout the day. He remembered clearly, going into sort of a world of make believe as he had trudged miserably through a sudden downpour.
Beyond exhaustion, he had imagined a huge man walking with him, and the man was offering him support and encouragement as they walked together. "I will build you a studio so you can paint to your heart's desire," the imaginary man had told him as he put his strong arms around Gage's shoulders. "I will never let anyone hurt you or tell you aren't good enough, ever again, especially your father. I will protect you, and care for you, always."
With his head still buried in his knees, Gage smiled softly, feeling slightly comforted at the remembrance, until a sudden jolt of realization went through him. At that moment he remembered his response to his imaginary friend. "Thank you, Vincent, and I will always try to make you proud of me."
Gage lifted his head, hearing a twig snapping nearby, and then convincing himself it was just his imagination, he lowered it again. He was still trying to piece things together, to understand why he had dreamed of someone named Vincent, and why he had used the name in the make believe world he used to comfort himself with.
He heard another twig snap.... He jerked his head up, and there a few feet away stood the monster. He gasped and struggled to his feet, but it was no use, Vincent was upon him in a flash. Gage felt his feet leaving the ground, and in what seems like only seconds, he was airborn, being held close by arms that felt like cold bands of steel.
They were in the sky! The thought went through his mind but it barely registered, in his stunned state. He looked down and could see the highway far below, and instinctively he held tightly to his captor. "Look up into the heavens, not down to the earth," the monster commanded, his voice sounding as if it held both anger and pleasure.
Gage looked up, seeing the stars glittering in the night sky, and he was filled was an overpowering sense of awe. "I can't believe this is happening," he whispered up at the heavens, feeling tiny and insignificant. "I can't believe that I'm really flying."
The monster whispered harshly into his ear while he looked up at the magnificence above him, "You ran away from me. I awoke and you were gone."
Gage ignored the words, still completely entranced with what he was experiencing. "So many stars," he murmured dreamily. " so many...I wish I was one of them. Is this a dream, Vincent?"
Harshly, Vincent made reply. "No, it is not a dream, young one. Had you stayed with me I would have shown you many wondrous things today. Now, all you shall know is my wrath. Prepare yourself, for when we return to the villa you shall be punished."
Gage tore his eyes away from the sky and looked into Vincent's face for the first time since he had been re-captured. "I don't care," he said without anger or fear. "I've flown, and it doesn't matter what happens to me now. You can kill me if you want, but I've flown." He could see the unearhthly lines on Vincent's face soften at his words, and an expression he could not understand replaced the angry one. The cold, dry lips brushed softly across his, and he didn't draw back in revulsion, just stared fixedly into the dark eyes of the monster who had shown him what if felt like to fly.
The flight into the sky felt like it had been a million years ago, as Gage was carried, struggling ferociously, back into the villa.
He screamed at the top of his lungs as the front door opened, hoping against hope that someone might hear and call the police, but Vincent's icy hand covered his mouth and smothered his cry before he could yell out again.
His eyes widened in terror, images of the house blurring while the monster flew like a flash up the stairs with him.
"Don't hurt me, please," he begged, as soon as his mouth was uncovered, grabbing out wildly at the nearest thing he could reach. An unlit candleabera thudded softly to the carpeted floor, while he was whisked back into the same bedroom where he had been held prisoner earlier.
He was uncerimoniously dropped onto the bed, and blind fear ripped at his core, causing him to lash out feverishly at Vincent with his fists. There was a dull, hollow thud where his hands connected, and then a sharp, throbbing pain went up both hands and into his arms with the impact. He held his arms close to his chest, whimpering with pain, while he waited for Vincent to finally end things and kill him.
When he looked up into the creatures face, steely eyes looked unblinkingly back into his, but the rage he expected to see was absent.
His mind whirled, and he felt close to passing out as the monster's eyes continued boring into him, and like a child who has noone to protect him against the horror of the reality he has found himself in, he cried out, pitifully, for his mother.
Once again he found himself trapped against the hard chest of his captor and he finally broke and begged for it all to end. "Go ahead and kill me, then! Go ahead! I'm ready!"
He closed his eyes, preparing himself, but after a few moments he opened them again, when the end did not come.
When Vincent spoke to him, his voice held a sadness that surprised Gage. "I did not want this, my love. I can offer many things to you, but you obstinately blind yourself to your need of me, and close your mind off from the truth of the circumstances that brought us together. If you cannot understand logically that in order for our destiny to be fulfilled that you must stay here with me, then I will punish you with pain so that you will be afraid to leave me again. You belong to me. You must understand that."
Before he could negate the ridiculous claim, Gage felt his shirt being ripped from his body. "What are you doing??" he roared, blind rage replacing the helpless despair, he had felt only moments earlier.
He shuddered when he felt Vincent's hand lightly rubbing his back, and he tried to twist away from the contact. "Your hands feel like a dead person's!" he shrieked, remembering how his mother's hands felt when he had touched them at her funeral. "You're some kind of-"
He broke off when he felt the blow to his shoulder. An open handed blow which practically knocked the air our of him, and left him with a dull ache where it had landed.
He opened his mouth to release a screech of rage and mindless panic, but once again his mouth was quickly covered by the monster's huge hand.
His nostrils flared as he tried to breathe around the icy fingers.
"Vampire," the word was uttered calmly by the monster as if his previous act of violence had never occurred. "Yes, young one, that is what I am and you have known that since you dreamed of me. Now I am going to punish you for running away from your destiny."
Gage suddenly remembered the man who had aided him in his escape that morning. The man whom Vincent had said was many things. He asked where Richard was, but the sound was muffled by the Vampire's hand.
"What did you say?" Vincent questioned quietly after removing his palm.
Gage rubbed fiercely at his mouth--tasting earth on his lips-- before repeating his question. "Where is Richard?"
Richard had to leave unexpectedly. He had a family emergency and will probably be gone for some time."
Gage felt bile rising in his throat at Vincent's casually spoken words. It was abundantly clear to him that Vincent had found out about the caretaker's attempts and done something to him. He just didn't know what.
He swallowed down the river of saliva that was collecting in his mouth and pleaded shamelessly with the vampire. "Please don't... punish me. I promise you I'll never try to leave again. Remember last night, you said you would never harm me?" He heard the whimper in his own voice but at that moment he had no more pride left. "Please don't hurt me. Please, I won't ever leave again!" he realized he was close to babbling, and he shut his mouth tightly, waiting for Vincent's response.
"You aren't telling the truth, Gage. You are simply afraid of chastisement. I'm very sorry, but I cannot take the chance that you will escape again. you are simply too valuable to me. Come, let's go to the wardrobe and find a strap."
The vampire's words were not spoken in anger, they were spoken almost reverently, and it took a moment for them to sink in fully. When they did, Gage began to squirm in the arms that bound him, remembering once again the whipping his father had given him when he was younger, and the worthlessness and rage he had felt at the time.
The arms tightened more, although Gage didn't know how that was possible.
"I won't punish you with the strap since your father hurt you so badly with it, but I must punish you, to ensure you learn not to ever leave me again. Try to remember another punishment, and I will fashion the chastisement from your memories, my boy."
The tenderness of the words frightened Gage more than any display of anger could have, and he tried to empty his mind of everything.
"If you are going to block me out, I'll have to use the strap, after all."
Tears welling in his eyes at the warning, he tried to remember a time when his mother punished him, but he couldn't remember anything but her love and protectiveness toward him. He continued searching his mind, hating the fact that the vampire could read his thoughts, and would know about her and how much he had loved her.
Before he knew it, one single memory marred the hallowed place he had reserved for her. He had run out in the street after his soccer ball had rolled down from the sidewalk, and she had seen him running after it, and had grabbed his hand and rushed inside the house with him. She had spanked him in his room, then, with her hairbrush, and he had cried, more from the knowledge that he had disappointed her than from the pain.
The feelings evoked were so powerful, that he almost cried out, and he despised the vampire for forcing the memory. The remembrance of his mother's love was the only refuge Gage had, at times, and now unpleasantness marred the sacred space in his mind that was reserved only for her.
"She loved you, and wanted to keep you safe. That is why she did it." Vincent mumrered softly. After the words were spoken, Gage felt himself being lifted. When his feet touched the carpeted floor he reeled slightly trying to catch his balance.
He warily watched every agile move of the vampire, as Vincent quickly crossed the room and pulled out the top drawer of a tall antique dresser. He watched closely, an unpleasant tingle of fear zinging through his body, as the vampire extracted a large wooden hairbrush from the interior of the drawer. Gage gulped in fear, but he felt like he was rooted to the spot, and he stood completely still as Vincent returned to stand in front of him, hairbrush in hand.
He noticed the shadow of the hairbrush against the wall of the candle lit room and the image loomed large, flickering menacingly back and forth.
"Remove your clothing," Vincent ordered in a soft tone, but one that could not be argued with. "Please...don't...." Gage rasped out, while hesitantly unclasping pants buttons with shaking fingers. Vincent didn't respond, merely stood in the shadows, gazing at him.
After Gage had undressed, Vincent wordlessly took him by the upper arm and then bent him over the high bed. In his vulnerable position, Gage could feel the soft texture of the bedclothes against the side of his face, even as he closed his eyes tightly and gritted his teeth in dread.
The first whack of the brush made his head rear back and a hiss of pain escape his lips.
Slow, hard strokes of the brush began pummeling his buttocks, and even though the pain was bad, Gage thought that the punishment was no worse than a human might administer to an errant youngster.
As he gripped the bed clothes tightly, he thought about the strength that he knew Vincent possessed, and even as he struggled to maintain a semblance of composure through the pain, he felt a small sense of gratefulness for the vampire's restraint.
He heard Vincent's voice above the crack of wood hitting his now fiery, and stinging flesh.
"You must never leave here without me," the vampire said, continuing the steady rhythm of blows. "You belong here now, and if you ever think of leaving, think of this."
The pain in Gage's backside increased tremendously as the blows quickened, and soon he was writhing, and whimpering, trying to escape the searing pain. "I swear, I won't do it again, Vincent," he ground out between clenched teeth, ashamed at the pleading sound in his voice, and knowing he sounded like a begging child. "I'll be good. I won't leave again."
Soon the punishment was over, and he lay still, not wanting Vincent to see the tears on his face. He sniffled once, when the tears that had welled up in his eyes, trickling down into his nose. But other than that remained quiet, feeling utterly humiliated, and exhausted from the ordeal.
The memory of the whipping his father gave him, long ago, once again emerged in his mind, causing resentment to re-emerge.Resentment coupled with a deep sense of shame that he, an adult man, would have to endure corporal punishment as if he were once again a weak and helpless child.
The room was eerily quiet for a minute, and then Gage felt the cold, hard arms of the vampire lifting him. "I can offer you so much more than this," the words had a tinge of regret to them, and Gage swallowed his tears and looked up at the pale, enigmatic face of the creature. He then felt Vincent's cold, long fingers rubbing at the fire in his bottom, soothing it, and Gage felt very confused by the stirring he felt deep within.
"But, I don't want anything from you," he said sullenly, fearful of Vincent's reaction, yet needing to assert his manhood at a moment when he felt so utterly unmanly.
"You are still in denial of what you have sought," Vincent said softly as he brushed a strand of Gage's hair from his forehead. "That is fine, young one, as long as you do not leave again."
Gage was rocked gently in the huge arms, and once the pain in his behind diminished to a warm glow, he fell asleep, and dreamed of warm ocean waves tugging and pushing at his body, enveloping him until he slowly slipped under the sea. In the dream he regretted the fact that he hadn't had the chance to capture the waves on canvas before the tide inevitably dragged him under.
He squirmed a little in his sleep, and lying on his belly with a pillow clutched in one arm, he rocked slowly from side to side and then up and down. The dream was one of bliss. An ethereal dream of touch, possession, adoration, punishment, desire... the fragments all blending together to make Gage moan wistfully for something which he knew could never be.
To be wanted, to be adored, to be...important enough to someone that they would hold you, even when you did not want to be held, and to cause you pain because you belonged only to them. To allow yourself to submit to one person out of love and desire... To be important to someone and yet not...to be able to lose your self-importance for a while...to be truly loved.
He sighed, unconsciously putting his hand under the covers to stroke his still tender buttocks gently. As the dream continued, a large, strong, faceless man held him securely, while stinging his buttocks with blows which didn't cause real pain, but only warmed and energized him. Blows which meant he was important and yet not. Blows that made him understand that he finally and truly belonged.
Gage smiled then, just on the verge of consciousness, aware that he was dreaming, but not wanting to awaken from the sweetness of it, just yet.
Finally opening his eyes, he was overcome with the reality of his situation and the primal and comforting movements of his body ceased. The dream faded quickly, leaving him feeling chilled and afraid.
He realized the sheet was sticky beneath him, and he felt ashamed.
As he sat up and rubbed at his his bleary eyes, he wondered what the day would hold for him. Deciding to play along with Vincent until he was certain of a successful escape, he crawled out of bed, and after dressing, he sat gingerly in a velvet upholstered chair and gazed out the window. Realizing as he studied the landscape below, that there would be no way to escape the second story window without risking broken bones or worse, he felt a sense of bleakness about his situation that rivaled that of when he lived in his father's house.
As he looked up at the gray, dreary sky, he thought about his mother, and wondered if she had ever felt trapped in her life with his father, and whether her death might have possibly been a welcome release for her.
Seeing a letter opener on a nearby desk, Gage stared thoughtfully at it for a long time, thinking that if things got bad enough, the escape of death was always a possibility.
But, deep down, he knew that wasn't what he really wanted, and that what he desired more than anything else was to belong to someone who loved him. Vincent had told him that they belonged together, but how could that be the truth? And how could Vincent know something like that?
He just didn't know.
Vincent and Gage's story will continue....
copyright © 2006 Tris