You should mail whatever’s left to Maverick who offered encouragement and did beta duty, and taught me to speak American (‘pants’ not ’trousers’ and ‘pepperoni’ not ‘salami’ – keep that in mind. kiddies).

And if in passing you could nod to Unwinding who told me all the things I needed to hear, well, that would be sweet.

*

This ain’t no headtrip, honey. This is a collision on the road - Poe ("Trigger Happy Jack")

*

Toby hears it on the news first. Marion is making coffee and he's loading the dishwasher. The television is on in the living room, barely audible over the sound of stacking dishes. Marion's talking, relating a conversation she had with the principal at the school where she works. He’s listening, nodding and making small talk. He hears the words "Oswald Penitentiary" and his hearing fine-tunes to the newsreader's voice.

The words "prison breakout" and "Keller" follow and the plate Toby is holding crashes to floor, shatters into tiny pieces that slide into the corners of the kitchen.

"Toby?" Marion reaches for the broom in the pantry. Toby stares at his hands. "Toby are you all right?"

There's a knock at the door and for an insane moment Toby thinks it could be him. He doesn’t move. Marion frowns and goes to answer it.

"Don't answer that!" Toby says. And then reason kicks in. Chris wouldn't come here. He knows they’d go to Toby first. "I'll get it," he says.

He opens the door and there are two cops with guns drawn, pointing at him. Behind them are two plain clothed cops, guns also drawn.

One of the plain clothed cops says, "Tobias Beecher?"

Marion's is behind Toby. "What's going on?" she says.

"It's nothing," Toby says. He tells the cops, "He's not here."

A plain clothed cop flips his badge in Toby's direction. "Detective Garth," he says. "Mind if we take a look around?"

"Be my guest," Toby says. He steps out of the way to let the cops pass. They filter into the bedrooms and the bathroom.

Garth takes out a notepad. "Has he tried to contact you?" he says.

"Has who tried to contact you?" Marion says. She's still holding the broom.

"It's Keller," Toby says. "He's escaped."

She looks at Toby, her eyes wide. Toby wonders if he told her Chris was the jealous type. "He wouldn't come here, would he?" she says.

"No," Toby shakes his head. He turns to Detective Garth. "He hasn't tried to contact me."

Garth nods. "Any idea where he might go?"

"His ex-wives?" Toby says.

"We’ve already contacted them," Garth says.

"Then I have nothing more to offer."

"No friends on the outside?"

"Not that I know of," Toby says. "He didn’t talk about himself much." He talked about himself all the time. Of course, everything he said was of dubious veracity.

"Guess you had other things to keep yourselves busy." Garth lays the innuendo on thick.

Toby ignores him. His head is reeling with the thought of Chris being free and on the streets with god knows what on his mind. The world as he knows it is upside down.

Chris will come for him. He’s sure of that. He should call Genevieve's parents - they have the kids for the weekend. He should also call his mother. He does a quick mental inventory of everyone in his life who needs protection from his past and resolves to call them. And he was so close to thinking this part of his life was behind him.

The cops find nothing and leave quietly. Garth gives Toby a card, tells him to call if Chris tries to contact him. "Don't do anything stupid," Garth says on his way out.

Marion folds her arms across his body, palms to elbows. "Does he know about me?" Her voice falters a little on "he".

"Yes," Toby says. He doesn't look at her. "I think you should go home, Marion," he says. It sounds cruel. He doesn’t mean it to be.

Marion gathers her jacket, wraps a scarf around her neck. She stands in the hallway, as if she's waiting for him to say something. He doesn't, so she says, "I'll call you tomorrow."

"Yeah," he says.

She kisses him quickly before leaving, a peck on the lips he barely feels.

Alone in his apartment he pours coffee and calls Genevieve's parents.

Chris is free. Toby won't sleep tonight.

*

Two days pass and no sign of Chris. Toby acts normal. He goes to work, counsels clients, call his mom and children and tells them everything is fine. He asks Genevieve's parents to take care of Holly and Harry for a while longer. Just to be safe.

On the third day Toby notices he’s being followed. The man at the newsstand looks familiar. He sees the same guy smoking a cigarette on the corner next to Toby’s office. He takes Garth's card out of his pocket and dials the number.

"Have you got someone watching me?" he says.

"Two men," Garth replies. "It's for your own safety."

Toby doesn't feel safe. He feels exposed.

On the way home he jumps off the train before the doors close. He doesn't know why. On the platform he sees a man reading a newspaper and a woman talking on her cell. They don't seem interested in him.

He gets on the next train and tries not to look at the people sitting next to him. He calls Marion when he gets home and tells her he thinks Keller is probably in California by now. He doesn't believe it but it feels like it’s something he should say. Marion tells him she'll see him on the weekend and he hopes it's true.

Garth calls that night. "What do you think you're doing?"

"I never asked for your protection."

"Well it's like Mick Jagger says, sometimes you get what you need."

Toby hangs up. He thinks about moving to another state. Or getting plastic surgery. Three days and he's already going crazy. Funny how Chris can drive him mad from a distance.

Two weeks go by and no phone calls, letters or postcards.

Garth calls off the surveillance. "Looks like he's over you," he tells Toby.

"Guess so," Toby says. He wonders if Chris finally listened to his head over his dick and found somewhere remote to hide out. Six months is a long time in prison. Chris might have another lover, or maybe a pen pal, one of those prison groupies who gets turned on by bad guys. Chris wouldn't care for the sentiment but he'd have no problem exploiting the attraction.

Toby stops watching the people around him, expecting a familiar face in the crowd.

He's not even thinking about Chris when a car pulls along side him on his walk home from the subway. He sees yellow out of the corner of his eye and figures it's a cab. He doesn't turn around when he hears the door open, doesn't pay attention to the sound of footsteps behind him. He's almost home, only two blocks away.

He feels a hand on his shoulder and a familiar voice says, "Toby! It's great to see you!"

Chris bear hugs Toby, a gesture so over-friendly Toby knows there’s a catch. He feels something hard press into his ribcage and Chris whispers, "pretend we're old pals and get in the cab or I'll blow the cab driver's head off."

Toby doesn’t need to be told twice. He throws himself into the performance. "Chris! It's good to see you too."

"Let me give you a ride," Chris says. "I got a cab waiting. " He makes a sweeping gesture toward the cab. Toby does all he can to not roll his eyes.

"Great," he says, with fake enthusiasm. He glares at Chris. Chris grins.

They bundle into the back seat of the cab. Toby can see the cabbie's eyes in the rear-view mirror. He looks tired and bored. "Where to?" he says.

Chris gives him the address of a bar. Toby’s mother is bringing Holly and Harry home in just under an hour. If she doesn’t find Toby there, she’ll know something is wrong. He wonders if there were any witnesses to Chris charade, whether anyone saw them get in the cab.

"So," Chris says, still playing the role. "It's been a long time, what have you been up to?"

"Making an honest living," Toby says. He emphasises 'honest.'

Chris slides his hand down Toby's thigh and squeezes his knee. "Same old Toby," he says. "Always the good boy."

The cab driver drops them off at a bar but Chris takes Toby two doors down, into a hotel that advertises rooms to let by the hour. Chris keeps one hand on Toby's shoulder, steering him into the hotel and toward the desk clerk. He's got his other hand in his pocket, still on the gun. It’s overkill. Toby would have followed him anyway.

Chris gets a room for the night. The desk clerk is engrossed in a "Baywatch" repeat, barely notices them at all.

The stairs are covered in worn carpet and there's a large bleached spot in the hallway.

"Romantic," Toby says.

"The Hilton was booked," Chris says. He opens the door to their room and shoves Toby inside.

There's a bed with a red quilt in the middle of the room, a desk, a closet, a bathroom. The carpet is faded apricot. It looks habitable. Barely. Outside the window Toby can see a large neon sign spelling out "CANCY" the V and A faded to black.

Chris’s takes Toby by the shoulders, kisses his neck. He spins Toby around and kisses him on the mouth, hard and hungry. Toby doesn't know how to respond. His lips move against Chris's like instinct, but Toby’s arms are frozen at his sides.

Chris breaks away. "I missed you," he says. "Where the fuck have you been?"

Toby can feel the gun in Chris's pocket pressing into his rib cage. "Busy," Toby says. "I have a job, family."

Chris removes Toby's coat, loosens his tie. "Yeah, all that fucking your daughter's teacher must make the days fly by."

"Fine," Toby says. "I've been in a relationship. What of it?"

Chris steps back, smirks. "Take off your clothes."

"What?"

"Take your goddamn clothes off."

"You kidnapped me so we could fuck?"

"We're going to do a lot more than that," Chris says. He pulls the gun from his jacket, points it at the floor. "Now, are you just going to stand there are argue with me while I'm holding a gun or are you going to take your clothes off?"

"What are you going to do - shoot me?" Toby sounds braver than he feels. Chris is unpredictable, like an infant waving a pistol in Toby’s face. It just might go off.

"Maybe," Chris says. "You want to find out the hard way?"

The thing is, Toby's hard, has been since Chris told him to get in the taxi, like there's something Pavlovian about Chris’s voice. Chris says Toby’s name and Toby’s dick jumps to attention.

Toby thinks he shouldn't feel like this when Chris is waving a gun around like it's a toy. Chris would kill for him, has killed for him. It terrifies Toby. It drives him crazy.

It turns him on.

Toby undoes the buttons on his shirt, let's it drop to the floor along with his tie. He takes off his shoes and pants, keeping his eyes on Chris. It’s a defiance of sorts. A show of control.

Chris watches like it's a peep show and he's got a fist full of coins. His smile widens when he sees Toby's erection.

"You know what your problem is Toby?" Chris says. "You get all pissed at me before checking which way your dick is pointing. Makes you look like a liar."

"Not everyone thinks with their dick," Toby says.

"Whatever you say, baby," Chris says. He waves the gun in the direction of the bed. "Lie down."

Toby sits on the edge of the bed, leans backward onto his elbows. Chris hovers at the end of the bed, looks serious as his gaze wanders down Toby's body and up again.

"Put your hands above your head," Chris says, not smiling now. Toby does what he is told. Chris climbs onto the bed and crawls along Toby's body until they are nose to nose. Chris kisses him again and this time Toby kisses him back. Toby can feel Chris's groin brushing against Toby's erection.

Chris breaks away from the kiss and sits up, knees either side of Toby's groin.

"What are you doing?" Toby says.

"I've got toys," Chris says. He pulls handcuffs from his pocket and dangles them in front of Toby. "We're gonna play cops and robbers."

Chris handcuffs one wrist, loops the handcuffs around the frame of the bed and handcuffs the other. He leans back, appraises his handiwork. "You should see yourself," Chris says. "You look like Christmas turkey."

Fuck him, Toby thinks. "Are you going to fuck me or just talk about it?"

"Oh, I'm going to fuck you, all right," Chris says. He runs a finger along Toby's chest and all the way down to the tip of his cock. "All night long."

"Then get on with it," Toby says.

Chris laughs. He takes off his jacket and his T-shirt, and then gets to his feet so he can take off his boots and jeans.

Chris is rock hard from prison life. The scar on his chest is white and still slightly purple. He looks the same as he does in Toby's dreams, the evil Adonis with a hint of laughter in his eye, his cock full and hard against his abdomen.

Chris catches Toby looking. "Miss this?" he says. Toby's mouth is too dry to respond.

Chris takes lube from the pocket of his jeans and works it over his fingers. "Bend your knees," Chris says, as he lowers himself onto the bed again. "And spread 'em." Toby does as he's told.

Chris slides his hand long the shaft of Toby's cock and down between Toby's legs to Toby's ass. He touches the rim with his finger, lightly, like he's just going to tease him and then he shoves it in, hard. Toby arches his back, tries not to cry out.

Chris doesn't wait for Toby to get comfortable. He shoves another finger into Toby, curls them both so Toby can feel Chris's knuckles inside of him.

And then Chris's tongue is on Toby's thigh, travelling over his hip and up to his belly. Chris moves down and Toby closes his eyes. breathes deeply in anticipation. Chris reaches Toby's balls, and travels up the length of the shaft. When he gets to the tips he wraps his mouth around the head, sucks Toby in as far as he will go and draws his mouth up again. Chris moves slow. No haste. Without the ever present threat of the hacks and their flashlights, they have all the time in the world. And Toby isn't going anywhere, with or without the cuffs.

And just like that, Chris withdraws. Toby groans when he feels cold air. He wonders if this is how Chris intends to punish him, tease him until he's begging and then just walk away. It isn't beyond Chris's perverse sense of justice.

Fortunately, Chris likes to fuck more than he likes exacting revenge. "I know how much you want me to blow you right now," he says. "But I got something far more important to do to you."

Chris greases himself up, lifts Toby's hips toward his groin and slides in carefully. Toby's spent too long without this, too long pretending he didn't need it. He had sex with Marion and it was good and it was pleasurable, but Chris is inside him, filling him, tearing him apart. This is what it's like to be intimate. Everything else is a façade.

"Chris," he says. "God - Chris - please."

"Toby," Chris says, and it's so quiet, so deliberate, Toby wants to cry. It's been too fucking long.

Chris fucks him with abandon, wraps his fist around Toby's cock and moves his hand in time with his thrusts. Toby comes over Chris's hand, warm semen dribbling down onto his stomach, like a memory. Chris comes soon after, his head thrown back and his eyes closed. In the grip of pleasure he looks almost human, almost real.

He pulls out, slumps down next to Toby, his face inches from Toby's neck, breath heavy and warm against Toby’s cheek.

Toby remembers he should be able to feel his hands. He clenches and unclenches his fists. He can't walk away now. Not now.

"Why didn't you just kill me?" Toby says.

"Hospitality before execution," Chris says.

Toby frowns. "What?"

Chris pats Toby's thigh. "Plenty of time for that later."

Chris won’t kill him. Toby knows that. Not that it matters. Chris still scares the fuck out of him.

Later, Chris makes good on his promise to fuck Toby all night long.

*

In the morning, he wakes with a full bladder and one hand still cuffed to the bed head. No Chris. He raises himself up on his elbow and looks around, idly wondering if the hotel has a housekeeping service.

"Chris?"

No response.

Toby notices the phone next to bed and picks up the receiver, puts it to his ear. It's dead. In the corner of the room Toby can see where the phone has been unplugged from the wall socket. He isn't surprised. Chris might be mad but he's not stupid. He probably even remembered the "do not disturb" sign.

He doesn't trust Toby. That's not surprising either.

Toby falls back onto the bed. "Fuck," he says.

With nothing better to do, he concentrates on dry desert images and hopes for sleep.

He's dozing when Chris returns, half dreaming, half remembering Oz. In the dream they’re in the pod and Toby is trying to tell Chris something and Chris isn’t listening. He never does.

"Hey, baby," Chris says, leaning over the bed and kissing Toby full on the lips. "Sleep well?"

Toby rattles the cuffs. "Get this fucking thing off me so I can go to the bathroom," he says.

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning," Chris says. He takes keys from his pocket and unlocks the cuffs. Toby gets out of bed, goes straight to the bathroom.

When he returns, Chris is outside on the balcony smoking a cigarette. Toby puts his pants on and joins him.

"Still here?" Chris says.

"Did you think I was going somewhere?" The balcony has a view of the neighbouring building and the alley below. Two boys of about ten are playing one-on-one below the balcony. Chris's ash falls on them without their noticing.

"I thought you might have used your window of opportunity," Chris says.

Toby crosses his arms over his chest. It's cold out. Too cold to be shirtless. "Chris… what are you doing?"

Chris doesn’t look at Toby. "Smoking."

"That’s not what I meant."

"I know."

"You can't stay here."

"I know."

"Where will you go?"

Chris stubs his cigarette out under his foot. "South, maybe," he says. "Somewhere warm." He looks at Toby, and then wraps his arms around him, pulling him against his chest. "Fuck, Toby you're freezing.."

Chris smells like cigarette smoke and sex. Chris always smells like sex - all pheromones and sweat. Pressed this close to Chris, Toby can almost forget the broken bones and dead bodies.

"Let's go inside," Toby says.

Toby searches the room for his shirt, finds it behind the bathroom door. He gets dressed while Chris lounges on the bed, flipping TV channels.

"I miss Miss Sally," Chris says. "Porn doesn't do it for me anymore."

"Do you need money?" Toby asks. He puts his tie in his coat pocket.

"I need wheels before I need money."

"Why?"

Chris shrugs. "I'd say your mother reported you missing last night when she brought the kids back. The cops will check your bank records, flag any transactions you make. You withdraw cash and I'll need to get out of here fast."

"Okay," Toby nods. "Okay, we'll get a car."

Chris turns the TV off. He looks at Toby. "You know we can't buy it, right?"

Toby puts his suit jacket on, catches sight of himself in the mirror. He’s got stubble and mussed hair, bleary eyes. He looks like drug dealer. "So we steal a car," Toby says. "You know how to hotwire the ignition?"

"I make do."

"Okay," Toby says. "Let's do it."

Chris gets up off the bed, pockets the cuffs and his cigarettes. He stops before he gets to the door. "You're coming with me, right?"

Toby hears the words in his head: I'm not coming with you. I have children, I have a job, I have a girlfriend, I have people who love me and care about me. Don’t you understand? I can't go with you. I won't go with you.

Chris broke his arms and legs. Chris could drive away and Toby would never see him again.

"Yeah," Toby says. "I'm coming with you."

*

PART 2

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