Rentboy

throat.
    Again he inhaled water as the bag wound tightly over the towel, cutting off his air, squeezing the
    remaining water from the towel, which Fox inhaled as he gasped for breath. There was none of the
    peace he found with cutting, only unimaginable fear, followed by pain as the water burned his
    breathing passages and the panic of finding himself unable to breathe. On and on it went as Eddie
    screamed and Maputwa laughed.
    Again William Baillie’s voice said, “Stop now.”
    The bag came off and then the towel. Every breath Fox took was painful all the way from his
    nose down into his watery lungs. He was drowning as he sat there.
    “I’ll tell you everything,” Eddie said, and this time Fox did not tell him not to. The towel and
    bag were thrown onto the floor at his feet. As if they were writhing poisonous snakes, he attempted to
    shimmy his chair away from them. Just looking at them made him want to throw up again.
    In the madness of their dilemma Fox could focus on nothing but staying alive, on his next breath,
    and on Eddie, who was about to hand over everything he believed in to save Fox from further pain.
    A pop like a champagne cork escaping a bottle sounded in the suddenly still room, followed
    instantly by another and another. The noises came from both ends of the kitchen. One by one in
    breathtaking succession the men dropped to the ground, Maputwa, Dr. Howard, the minders. The
    whole thing happened so fast, and the men were so stoned they could not get out their weapons in
    time.
    In a daze Fox looked at the men scattered about the floor, every one of them with blood
    streaming from their heads.
    “Fox?” Eddie gasped.
    “We’re gonna die,” he replied.
    Two men walked into the middle of the room. One came through the back door, the other from
    the door to the hall. One was very tall and handsome with a shaved head and startling blue eyes, the
    other younger, slender, beautiful, with short blond hair. They wore identical black clothing and made
    no sound when they walked. The bigger man spoke into his lapel. “All clear. Maputwa is dead. The
    targets are safe. They need medical assistance ASAP. Give us two minutes to get out of here.”
    The tall man looked at the younger man. “You check those three. I’ll check these two.”
    “I killed one outside the back door, sir. He was unconscious but not dead.” The younger man had
    an American accent.
    “Good boy,” the older man said in a tone and with a look that spoke love.
    Methodically they went from man to man, putting a second bullet through the back of each head.
    “I don’t suppose you could kill my dad as well,” Fox said.
    Without a word the man looked at him, and then the two disappeared out through the back door
    into the night. The rain had stopped, and for a moment Fox looked at Eddie in the silence and then
    around him at the Mad Hatter’s tea party. Water seeped up from his throat, and he was choking again,
    unable to breathe.
    Chapter Sixteen
    Something was choking Fox. There was something in his throat. He was awakening out of a
    dream where he had been drowning, suffocating. Filled with fear, panicked, and at the same time
    angry, Fox grabbed at his face, only to have his hands grasped and pulled away. He tried to sit up and
    was pushed back down.
    “Get the fuck off me!” he screamed.
    “Everything is fine, Afton. You’re safe. You’re safe. Stop fighting.” Only his mum called him
    Afton, but it wasn’t her voice.
    Fox opened his eyes. Two women, one in a white coat, the other dressed like a nurse, looked
    down at him.
    “There’s a tube in your nose going down your throat. If we let go of your hands, you mustn’t
    touch the tube. Okay?” the doctor said.
    Coming to full consciousness, he panted, “’Kay.”
    The doctor leaned on the bed rail with both hands. “And there is a drip in your hand supplying
    you with fluids. Do you know where you are?”
    “Sounds like a mental health question.”
    Both women smiled. The nurse said, “You are in St. Mark’s. It’s a private hospital just outside
    London.”
    “Private? I don’t know who is going to pay you,” Fox said. “I doubt my dad will. He tried to kill
    me.”
    “Don’t worry. It’s taken care of. Do you remember what happened to you?”
    The kitchen, Maputwa, drowning. Those two blokes in black who shot the place up. Eddie.
    “Eddie!”
    The doctor pressed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Dr. Atherton is in surgery.