Something from Nothing

Chapter 1 “Where’s the milk?” It should have been a simple, innocuous question. But, no. Shane’s eyes grew wide as he stood at the kitchen counter, doing the dishes. He felt his heartbeat quicken. His breathing became shallow and more rapid. A wave of dread washed through him as he realised that in his haste to get home and cook dinner for Tyler, he’d forgotten to get the milk. He heard the fridge door slam shut. He flinched. “Don’t tell me. You forgot it, didn’t ya?” Breathing became difficult. He braced himself for what he knew was to follow. He went to turn. “I’m really sorry, Tyler. I wanted to—” Tyler’s hand. It appeared to be moving in slow motion as he raised it. The seconds felt like an eternity. The anticipation weighing down on Shane like an anvil. He didn’t see it slice through the air, feeling only the explosion of pain across the right side of his face and, seconds later, the salty, metallic taste of blood filling his mouth. “What’s wrong with ya?” Tyler bellowed. Shane cowered in front of the cupboards, his arms up to protect his head. Not that they ever had. Tyler was a stocky, solid man, six years his senior. He worked on construction sites and was a creature of sinew and muscle. His deeply tanned skin had made a blueish mess of the tattoos that covered his arms. He was good-looking. Strong features, all in proportion. His blue eyes sparkled, even when he was in a rage. They had been the first thing to attract Shane to him. As for Shane, he had dropped out of school at fifteen and currently worked in a warehouse, driving a forklift. He was slight, perhaps a little too much so. And while an extremely attractive man of thirty, he was all “ribs and c**k,” as the expression went. Along with his fair hair and smooth body, he could easily pass for someone many years younger. He had never really pondered his slender physique, but if he had, he might have put it down to nervous energy. Of that, he had an abundance. He felt Tyler’s work boot connect with his thigh, sending bolts of pain shooting outwards from the impact site. Tears filled his eyes, but there weren’t enough to spill over onto his flushed cheeks. He was used to this and knew that tears were useless. In fact, tears seemed to goad Tyler on. And he didn’t want that. “Now get! Get out and get some!” Shane wanted Tyler to move back, even a little, before he attempted to stand, but Tyler didn’t move. He loomed over Shane, threatening with his presence, with his dark expression. “Get!” he bellowed. Shane’s whole body shuddered. He began to stand, using the cupboards for support. His eyes were fixed on Tyler, watching for a sign there was more punishment to come. Timidly, he slipped past the man and began moving towards the bathroom so he could at least wash his face before he went out in public. “Where the f**k are ya going?” Shane stopped and twisted around to face Tyler. “T…to wash my face.” He could see the ligaments in Tyler’s neck grow taut. It was impossible to know what was coming. An insult? A slap? A punch? “Just get!” he growled, jabbing his thumb in the direction of the front door. Reluctantly, Shane edged towards the door, and only as he stepped outside did he realise he didn’t have any money. His wallet was in the bedroom they shared. His stomach lurched. He daren’t go back inside. Instead, he gave himself time to think by walking to the tap in the front garden and washing his face. He’d have to shoplift. He’d done it once before when Tyler had sent him out without any money. He hated doing it. And the thought of being caught and arrested terrified him. Thanks to Tyler, he was no stranger to humiliation, but that was one humiliation he couldn’t bear to endure. When he was certain all traces of blood had been removed from his face, he hurried to the front gate, knowing that Tyler would be keeping an eye on the time. He walked as fast as he could, dressed in nothing but a flimsy T-shirt, tracksuit pants, and a pair of old canvas slip-ons that were slightly too small and irritated the backs of his ankles. It wasn’t usually a problem since he only wore them to go from the back door to the clothes line, or to the rubbish bin, or out to the mailbox, but already they were beginning to chafe. The nearest place that sold milk was the Caltex service station up on the main road. It would take him no longer than fifteen minutes to get there, but at this time of night, it was doubtful there’d be enough people in the shop to distract the person on duty at the checkout while he smuggled out a carton of milk. He whimpered. He knew he’d be caught. He’d be taken to the nearest lock up and interrogated. Worse than that, when he got back home, probably sometime the following day, Tyler would be waiting for him. It wouldn’t matter that he’d been arrested—and for doing something at Tyler’s behest. Tyler would have more punishment in store for him. He arrived at the service station and was pleased to see five cars parked at the petrol bowsers. A quick glance inside the shop showed him all might not be lost. He entered and noticed the attendant serving a customer. There was nothing in front of her on the counter so she was obviously paying for petrol. The transaction would be over by the time he got to the milk fridge. With his heart racing, he opened the door and removed a one-litre carton. He closed the door quietly, then proceeded to browse the shelves, taking great care not to look at the attendant too many times for fear of arousing suspicion. He picked up a packet of biscuits and examined the packaging, too nervous to actually read anything. He heard the glass doors at the entrance slide open and looked up. A man wearing a suit walked in, and as he approached the counter, Shane inched his way towards the exit. He had thought of trying to hide the milk, but knew well that the minute he got to the doors, the alarm would go off no matter where the milk was. The attendant was at the cash register. It was now or never. As quick as a flash, Shane was out the door, sprinting towards the rear of the service station with the sound of alarms ringing in his ears. He disappeared into a back lane, hidden by shadows, and ran like the wind to the other end. Zigzagging back the way he had come, he finally arrived at the road that would take him home. And to sanctuary. From the police, at least. He arrived, sweaty and panting. The muscles in his legs burned and his chest was tight as he bent forward, trying to catch his breath. His ankles were raw, a sticky mess from the bloody wounds; the pain cutting through every other discomfort. In the distance, he could hear the shrill wail of a police siren and knew they were coming for him. He pushed through the door, now more worried about what was waiting for him than what was happening at the service station. “You took ya time,” Tyler growled, turning his attention from the television. Shane wondered how he could have gone any faster, but was not in a position to protest. He removed his shoes and threw them into a corner, glimpsing the bloody red ovals on the back of each ankle as he did so. “Do you want me to make you a cup of tea?” Tyler looked at him, the hint of a smile on his face. “Nah. I’ve changed my mind.” He returned his eyes to the television. “You took too bloody long.” It was as though someone had suddenly let all the air out of him, and for a moment, he was powerless to move. Tears threatened, but didn’t eventuate. When he was able, he put the milk in the fridge and went to the bathroom. After removing his clothes, he stepped beneath a warm shower and thought about the crime he had committed for Tyler. They hardly ever went to the Caltex service station, but as it was in the area, he’d have to be careful not to go anywhere near it. He knew they’d have his image, a still taken from the security cameras, stuck up in the store for months to come. He’d seen the small gallery of past offenders on a previous visit. After drying himself, he went to bed and tried to fall asleep, though his guilty conscience pricked him and kept him thinking about what could have happened. Of what might still happen. Sometime later, Tyler climbed into bed. “You awake?” Shane didn’t answer. He felt Tyler kiss the back of his neck, felt his hard c**k poking into the flesh of his buttocks. He stirred, pretending as though Tyler’s attentions had roused him. “You awake?” Tyler asked again. “Yes.” Tyler reached around and grabbed his c**k, which was limp and showed no signs of becoming anything else. “Where’s the lube?” In the drawer of his bedside table, Shane felt about in the darkness for the plastic tube, and having located it, handed it to Tyler. He heard the lid flick open and a rude sound as the gel was expelled, some of which was wiped over his arsehole and the rest, he assumed, over Tyler’s c**k. As Tyler pushed his way inside him, Shane felt Tyler’s lips on his neck and shoulders. He could be surprisingly tender when he wanted to be. And Shane had to admit that, at times, Tyler still had the power to turn him on. There was nothing romantic about it. It was lust, pure and simple. A need that was being satisfied. “You like that, babe?” “Yes,” replied Shane, doing his best to sound genuine. He’d learned the hard way that even in rare romantic moments, Tyler’s switch could be flicked, and the gentle thrusts and tender kisses could erupt into something considerably more violent and aggressive. “I love ya,” said Tyler between kisses. “You’re a fuckin’ little i***t most of the time, but I love ya.” Shane remained silent. Tyler could force him to say or do almost anything, but the one thing he was powerless to make Shane do was to say that he loved him, for he did not. He had loved him once. Devotedly. Passionately. But over the four years they’d been together, as the slaps and punches had started, along with the verbal humiliations both in private and public, his love for Tyler had been knocked out of him. There had been too many tears and bruises, and too much blood, for there to be anything warm and fuzzy left. Tyler began thrusting harder. His breath burst on the back of Shane’s neck. It wouldn’t be long now, then Shane could return to the job of trying to fall asleep. He could feel Tyler’s fingers digging into his hips, gripping him, hurting him. Tyler pulled Shane’s body towards him as his own hips pounded into him. His teeth bit down on the back of Shane’s neck. Finally, grunting, Tyler pulled Shane hard against him, holding himself deep inside as he delivered his seed. When he had finished, he kissed the back of Shane’s neck and withdrew. Without a word, he rolled over, and within minutes, was snoring away. Meanwhile, Shane lay awake. I have to get away, he thought. I have to or he’ll end up killing me. He closed his eyes, but sleep was a long time coming. The fact he’d broken the law was still bothering him. While it was true he lived from pay cheque to pay cheque, had no savings and no assets, he still had his integrity, whatever little of it remained. And while he’d shoplifted before, he could take solace in the fact it had only been because Tyler had forced him to. He had never, otherwise, broken the law, and if he had the choice, he would never again in the future.