Runaway
Author: Lacey Raine

Chapter 37
Luke

 I didn't like this.

I didn't like this at all. For the love of God, if Jonah had just told me what kind of place we were going to, I'd never have asked to meet his friends. I hated this. Jonah was wearing a collar - like a dog - which was attatched to a lead. The other end of which was in my hand. His tight leather pants left little to the imagination and, despite the broken glass and not-quite-stubbed-out cigarettes on the pavement, he walked barefoot. "It'll be fine, honestly," He assured me, seeing my anxious expression. "Well. This is it."

I was looking at the door to what appeared to be an ordinary nightclub. The neon sign, the banging music from inside, the burly guy on the door. He gave Jonah a nod of acknowledgement. "Got rid of Blain, then?" He said, chuckling.

"Hardly likely, B-Ri," Jonah replied. "Other way round, I'm afraid. But this is my new dom," He waved a hand at me.

"L-Luke Rothery," I introduced myself, a little embarrassed. Jonah mouth two words which look like he's new and the man let us in, still chuckling. "He seemeed nice." I observed.

"He is. Brian McIntyre," Jonah told me. "Pretty decent kind of bloke. Here, they're over here." He made his way over to a small group of people in the corner.

I tried to suss which was which.  I guessed the one with the shiny dark hair and the injection marks up and down his arms was Rayne, the one with the black hair and eyeliner who was shuddering and looking up at the guy above him with fear was Marko, the one who looked like he'd just had a good slap around the mouth was Aaron, and the young one with the blonde curls and blue eyes was Thierry. They were all in similar attire to Jonah, and all apart from Rayne were kneeling on the ground at the feet of the men above them. Rayne was perched on his guy's lap, in a very sexual position. Jonah looked at me as if seeking my permission for something. I nodded, not knowing what else to do. "Hi, guys," Jonah said. "This is Luke. Luke, sir, this is Rayne, Marko, Aaron and Thierry. And Jimmy, Neil, Kris and Freddy."

"Er... hi," I said, waving nervously.

"Well, don't just stand there, man," Jimmy said, laughing. "Sit down." I did as I was asked, hoping Jonah would sit on my knee. Instead, he knelt by my feet and rested his head against my thigh. Automatically, my hand twitched out and my fingers stroked his hair. Usually when I did that he'd move into me and arch his back contently, like a cat. That was most of the reason I called him kitten. But now, he just smiled up at me and shuffled slightly closer to my legs. I smiled back at him and he flashed me a sly wink.

About an hour later, Kris started rolling joints. He looked across at me. "Can I tempt you?" He asked.

"No, I er... I don't do weed," I said. I didn't want to say I didn't do drugs in case that came off weird.

"Jonah?" He addressed the boy at my feet in a much colder tone. Jo-Jo blinked up at me, like he was asking for permission. I didn't want him smoking drugs but I didn't want him to get upset with me, so I shrugged.

"Go for it," I told him. He accepted the spliff Kris was offering out for him and lit it up off of a match Rayne had.

I'd never seen Jonah smoke so much as a cigarette before. But now he was sucking the life out of the joint between his fingers like it was going out of fashion and blowing out lines of rancid smelling smoke. Jimmy stood up, and so did the other guys. "C'mon, Luke, we're going over here," He said, not giving me the option to say no. I stood up and followed him, reluctantly leaving Jonah on his own with the other guys.

"So. How long have you and Jonah been together?" Freddy asked.

"Er..." I cleared my throat. "Not long. About a month."

"How old are you?" Kris wanted to know.

"Twenty-five," I lied. I guessed that nineteen was young to be doing this kind of thing.

"Jesus Christ!" Freddy laughed. "You're looking well, mate."

"Oh. Thanks," I couldn't help smiling at the compliment.

"Speaking of looking well, Jonah's not looking very... disciplined," Neil pointed out.

"Well he's er..." I cleared my throat. "He's been behaving himself so..."

"And?" Freddy scoffed. "Thierry's a bloody angel most of the time, but he still needs smacking about every now and then, just so he knows his place."

"Well," I was getting mad now. "Jonah knows his place. He got taught that well enough by Blain. He doesn't need me telling him."

"Don't lose your rag, pal, I was just saying," Freddy said, holding his hands up defensively. I felt bad suddenly.

"Sorry," I sighed. "I just... I have a temper, I guess."

"Right," Neil looked at me confused. Then he sighed. "Fuck's sake, Marko, this had better be fucking important!" I turned to see the small, dark haired boy behind me.

"Er... s-s-sorry," He stammered. "It's j-just... J-Jonah's kinda having a panic attack."

I looked over to where we'd been sitting. "Where is he?"

"Thierry's taken him out the backs," He said, quietly. "Here, I'll show you." He added, after looking at Neil for permission. I nodded then followed him towards a door at the far side of the bar.

As we walked, I turned to look at Marko. He had coal black hair which fell messily over his face at to the middle of his neck. His eyes were a mystifyingly cynical lime-green and framed by long black lashes. Despite his mature face and the way he acted, his wobbly voice still seemed in the process of breaking, suggesting he was very young. "How old are you, Marko?" I asked.

"Me?" He blinked at me. "I'm...I'm fifteen, sir."

"You don't have to call me sir," I smiled comfortingly at him. "Call me Luke."

"O-okay. Luke," He smiled back at me.

"Fifteen, eh?" I said. "God, you're so young."

"Not really," He shrugged. "Thierry's only thirteen."

"Really?" I said.

"Jonah was only twelve when he started out," Marko reminded me.

"I know," I swallowed. "Did... did you want to do all this stuff?"

"Not really, not at first," He shook his head."But it's okay now. Neil's sweet with me. At least most of the time."

"Good," I said, gently. "So. What's up with Jonah?"

"He's chucking a whitey, I think. He's done it before, but not like this..." Marko swung a door open, revealing a small yard. Jonah was in the corner, doubled over, using the wall for support. Thierry had hold of one of his hands and was talking to him, just saying what seemed like nonesense. I ran over. "It's alright, Jonah," He muttered. "It's okay. C'mon... er...hey, remember that time we got really really drunk and I was convinced I could climb up a lampost? I fell in a bush, remember? You laughed so hard, cruel bastard. Remember that?"

Jonah looked up and saw me. "Luke!" He gasped. He was hyperventalating.

"Yeah?" I put my hand on his cheke.

"Luke, I... can't... breathe!" He panted.

"Yes you can," I assured him, giving his shoulder a squeeze.

"Can't," He shook his head. "Oh my... God. I'm gonna... die. Am...I gonna.... die?"

"Don't be silly!" I said. "Come on. Deep breaths," I told him.

"I can't!" He insisted. "I'll... I'll be sick."

"Good. That's good," I nodded. "Get it out of your system. C'mon, breathe in nice and deep." I told him, demonstrating. Jonah took in a deep breath of fresh air and vomited violently all over the floor in front of him.

When he was done puking, he stood up straight. "Are you okay?" I asked. He shook his head. "D'you wanna go home?" He nodded. "Okay. I'll take you home. C'mon." I hooked my arm around him and walked him out of the yard, quickly thanking Thierry and Marko. I took him out of a gate at the side, rather than back through the bar. I didn't need the other guys seeing him.

 

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