Lost in the Echo Read online

  Three days. Three questions. Three answers.

  Kidnapped, blindfolded, and bound to a bed, running away isn't an option any more for Will Chambers. Despite being a linguistic tutor and having every conversational tool at his disposal, all Will wanted to do was fade into the background, become lost in the echo of wild heath and harbour. But now someone wants to put his body and mind on full display, force Will to find his voice— answer three questions, over three days. All Will has to do is provide three... simple... answers. (M/M)

  Lost in the Echo

  Jack L. Pyke

  ForbiddenFiction

  www.forbiddenfiction.com

  an imprint of

  Fantastic Fiction Publishing

  www.fantasticfictionpublishing.com

  Copyright 2016 Jack L. Pyke

  Smashwords Edition

  Lost in the Echo

  A Forbidden Fiction book

  Fantastic Fiction Publishing

  Hayward, California

  © Jack L. Pyke, 2016

  All rights reserved. No part of this work may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without permission from the publisher, except as allowed by fair use.

  For more information, contact [email protected].

  CREDITS

  Editor: Rylan Hunter

  Cover Design: Siolnatine

  Cover Photos: Photo by SJJP at Pixabay.

  Production Editor: Kaye O'Malley

  SKU: JP2-000274-01

  ISBN: 978-1-62234-300-3

  Published in the United States of America

  DISCLAIMER

  This book is a work of fiction which contains explicit erotic content; it is intended for mature readers. Do not read this if it’s not legal for you.

  All the characters, locations and events herein are fictional. While elements of existing locations or historical characters or events may be used fictitiously, any resemblance to actual people, places or events is coincidental.

  This story depicts fictional BDSM; it is not intended to be used as an instruction manual. It contains descriptions of erotic acts that may be immoral, illegal, or unsafe. The characters are not models for the Safe, Sane and Consensual forms embraced by most current practitioners of BDSM. The author takes license with the use of BDSM for dramatic effect. Do not take the events in this story as proof of the plausibility or safety of any particular practice.

  Contents:

  Disclaimer

  Chapter 1: William

  Chapter 2: Taken

  Chapter 3: Dark Dreams

  Chapter 4: Lost in the Echo

  Chapter 5: Three Days. Three Questions. Three Answers.

  Chapter 6: Lost Youth

  Chapter 7: Stop

  Chapter 8: Tough Love

  Chapter 9: Need Your Love

  Author Notes

  About the Author

  About the Publisher

  CHAPTER 1

  WILLIAM

  William took a left off the A6 and pulled his Rover onto a long stretch of road, the suspension making the ride smooth and barely massaging the tension in his arms. A suit jacket slept on his front passenger seat, threatening to slip onto the floor, and the occasional glare didn’t keep it in check. In fact, the jacket seemed to sit there chuckling with loose change and the stray call off his mobile as it inched closer to the floor, goading every look Will could give it now as he flicked off his stereo. Even “The Sound of Silence”, a cover version by Disturbed, failed to drown out the familiar ringtone that crept through. White sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, the sun tanning Will’s arms through tinted windows, and the cool breeze from the air conditioning shifted hair into his eyes. It made the late summer heat of a Friday afternoon almost bearable. Almost. He was running late. Although you wouldn’t have guessed it with how the heat seemed to melt his tyres to the concrete, making the Rover slow, and the road ahead shimmer as it stretched and thinned, almost like some twisted backdrop in a Hitchcock-like nightmare.

  Among the wings of the forest taking flight on either side of the road, ancient oak trees arched over the drive up to the old Lancaster University, offering the perfect group-huddle respite from the sights and sounds of the rush-hour traffic. Eventually the tree lines eased, and like quick flashes of life on fast forward through the forest, here and there groups of youth lay sprawled out on the freshly cut grass. All smiles, chuckles, and small, secret kisses passed onto blushing cheeks that would have the Chancellor and all of his Vices raising a brow. Will snorted. Life and light— all there beyond the restraint of his windows.

  Will’s grip on the wheel tightened as he kept his gaze fixed on the run up to the County South Language Department.

  His usual car parking space was taken, setting his mood a little darker, and he pulled into the next one, debating the need to pull in close enough to the offending car, block the driver’s side door off— state his claim of don’t do it again. But he left being a jerk for the up-and-coming who thought acting like one would get them wherever they needed to go a little faster. Will was too tired for ego wars.

  “You been at the pub for a pint, Teach?” a voice called over, amongst the chatter and chuckles going on back there. Caught locking his car, William glanced back and that quick rush to smile came. He almost flinched to go over, needing that natural pull into normality and better memories. “Ryan. You’ve got five minutes to finish your meet and greet and get into the lecture hall.” He realised he’d left his jacket on the passenger side. Ignoring the group of undergraduates, he started to reach back in to pull it free.

  “C’mon, old bones. Out the way and let me get that.” Ryan pushed by and ducked into the Rover before Will could breathe. “There you go.” This time the vibration off the phone hummed through the thick material as Will took it off him.

  “Less of the old bones.” Will tugged his mobile free and thumbed the text that came through.

  1725? Please?

  Will ground away a few teeth. 1725. No place in the UK could offer a more authentic Spanish tapas restaurant and bar than 1725. It got its name from the first year of trading ale, and with three floors, oak beams, and wood flooring, the grade-two listed building breathed out all the history and love of Lancaster. Will lived for the acoustic nights they held, but back then, company had made it everything. And now?

  Ryan leaned over to look as Will deleted the message.

  “1725, huh?” He backed off, hands in his pockets. “You know you deserve a break.” That ghost of a smile chased Ryan’s lips. “Well, other than you disappearing for a pint when lunch comes around.”

  Will pointed at him. “You think the Chancellor would allow us a break time for anything longer than half a pint?”

  “Well.” Ryan looked all roughed-up hair and cheek to boot. “Considering I’m shorter than you, a half’s good enough for me, if you feel your wealth spreads far enough to buy me another one after we break out today, Will.”

  William blinked and Ryan’s smile failed a touch. All of the defiance that was usually there in those younger eyes slipped into a distance that almost had William easing off; the cheeky offer of a drink had only ever been used as a tactic to get close to someone else who should have been walking right there beside Ryan, they both knew that, and Ryan seemed to recognise it now. Seeing him lose all of his usual spark, Will rubbed at his shoulder. “I’m away for a week, but after that, you, me… curry and my Xbox One?”

  That ease in smile crept back up. “Sure. But not…“ Light faded from his eyes a little. “Not yours and his, though? Mine.”

  Will understood that. It was part of why he was running away himself. “How’re you settling down in the new flat?”

  “The grants are helping.” He waggled his eyebrows. “You re
ally know how to flout the system. Eh?”

  “You’re entitled to it.” Will winced. “But the government likes to hide the details, is all.” He rubbed at Ryan’s arm again. “You get any issues, you know where the spare key is to mine. You go get your head down there, okay? Sometimes the ghosts need holding on to.”

  Ryan dug his hands in his pockets, looking awkward for a whole host of reasons. “Dunno… It’s hard, y’know. But it’s there. Might be good to go back one day.”

  Will nodded. “Be really good to see you there one day.”

  “Ryan— c’mon.” Behind him, Helen waved him over.

  Ryan gave a sigh and patted Will’s abs. “You need help getting around, old bones, you give me a nudge today, okay?”

  “Sodding cheek.”

  Ryan grinned and headed off toward the main reception doors. William followed a few moments later, wiping at the light sweat dampening the nape of his neck, yet shivering despite the heat. A few mumbled “hellos” and “afternoons” from people he knew went with him as he made it up into his study on the second floor, and he greeted each colleague with the politeness of a small smile. Politeness, he could manage; conversation was the hard part.

  The two lectures scheduled for the afternoon were mostly for his full-time students, but twenty or so part-timers who studied the long-distance PhD course in Applied Linguistics needed their theses marked, too, and it was something he should have done by now. He’d take them away with him to finish. Slipping his USB from his pocket, William gave a sigh. Long gone were the days of carrying ream after ream of paper, now E-theses were subbed through the university online language forum, and it eased the load. Less time carrying, more time marking. Or so the theory went, mused Will.

  Just as he brought the computer online, a tap came at his door. “Will.” Kate inched her way in and offered a smile. “Your lecture was due to start five minutes ago.”

  “Yeah. I know.” He multitasked by inserting the USB and pulling his jacket on.

  Kate came over and gave a wince. “And you know you should have done that well before your holiday.”

  “Yeah,” he said again, a little tired even for his liking. “I know.”

  Giving a sigh, Kate offered a smile and seemed to resign herself to something. “How about I download all your E’s and I’ll bring them to you during break? That way you can get off on time.”

  Will slipped into a relieved thank-you smile. “You don’t mind?”

  “No.” Kate ran a hand through her hair. “I don’t mind.”

  Some of the pressure twisting his insides uncurled a touch. “You know my passwords, right?”

  She nodded. Of course she did. Kate had been secretary to six language tutors for over ten years now and could ferret her way into any situation and disappear; leaving no linguistic fingerprint to say her devious side had been at play. Elliot had taught her well.

  “You know he’s leaving next week?”

  And there it was: that knot that strangled his insides again. “Who?” He knew who.

  Kate sighed. “Elliot.”

  “He got his Oxford post?”

  “Yeah. I’ll miss him. He’s been really good as Head of Department.” She was quiet for a moment, almost an air of accusation hanging with it. “I don’t think he wants to go.” More quiet. “And you? Do you… You gonna miss him?”

  “I’d miss Ryan.” Will looked at the door. He didn’t want to be here.

  Kate set to work on the computer. “You know Ryan’s not going, even though Elliot tried to ask him to.” Will looked back and Kate caught his eyes. “You know his dad shouldn’t be going either,” she added, now looking away.

  “His choice.” Will left Kate to it, making it down into the lecture hall. The groan of the door barely disturbed the chatter going on inside, and Will breathed a sigh into the familiar sights, sounds, and scents.

  “I hope all that row you’re all making surrounds the heated debate on how even objective analysis of Corpora data relies on some form of subjective interpretation. Otherwise you can all leave.”

  A chair was pushed back.

  “Sit down, Ryan. Some of you need the extra study time.”

  Chuckles hit the lecture hall as Will took off his jacket and placed it over the back of his chair, his gaze for a moment on his desk. A fresh coffee sat steaming in tune to the afternoon. There was a temptation to look at Ryan, say thank you for the quiet thought or at least acknowledge the fact that the son sitting over there was nothing like the hard-nosed bastard father, but that would mean looking up, that would mean looking at Ryan and facing the empty seat next to him.

  “Right,” said Will, facing the board. “Just for a change, let’s go wild and throw something else into the linguistic mix. Let’s run with a little stylistics.”

  “Oh, man.” That came from Ryan and Will knew what was coming. “I only went to the barber’s yesterday. You saying I’m going all” — a deliberate tousle of long locks would have come now and, Will guessed, a slow smile off Ryan— “shaggy dog, Mr. Chambers?”

  Despite not being able to look back, William smiled. But then came the sound of pages being turned, minds settling into concentration, and it forced Will to stare for a little longer at his whiteboard, on the routine of normalcy. Only life was far from normal, and he needed out now.

  “Hey, Will.” Panting slightly, Ryan caught up with him just as he pulled open the door to his Rover.

  “Hey.” Will mumbled around the USB in his mouth and he dropped it in his hand before pocketing it. “S’up?”

  “Just wanted…” Ryan bent over slightly, hands on knees. The rugby kit he wore said he’d taken advantage of the sports hall during dinner, and let off a little steam. Considering what tomorrow was, Will didn’t blame him. “Just wanted to say, well, y’know.” Ryan seemed to struggle.

  Will nodded after a moment, letting his gaze slip to the car door. “You too, okay? You know you can call me anytime. I’ll be driving in the morning, but I’ll keep my cell phone in case you need me.”

  Ryan straightened and wiped at his eyes. Partly to catch the sweat, mostly to stop the fallout of something else. “Thanks.”

  It was awkward then: Ryan looking back at the university, Will away from it, towards the long road out of there.

  “You have mine too, yeah?”

  Will found Ryan again. “Yeah. Always.” He went to add something else, but Ryan’s cold snort stopped him.

  “Part… part of me misses Dad so much, y’know?” Anger settled in. Still raw, still real. “The side of him that doesn’t try and push all… all of this into another county. Because Christ. Christ I wish that bull headed side to him that thinks everything will get better with a few miles on the clock would just fuck off and leave me alone. I…” He shrugged. “I don’t want to… ” He frowned. “Forget.”

  Yeah. Part of Will was right there with Ryan, only Ryan handled this better than he did. Ryan wasn’t the one running away for a while. “I’ll be back in a few days, okay? I’m going nowhere. I just… ” He sighed now. “I just need a few days. No more. So you, you make sure you call, okay? If it gets tough?” He knew it would, for both of them.

  Ryan wiped at his nose. “I’m celebrating his birthday how he’d want to, even if it means getting blind drunk this weekend with a few friends.”

  “Not good.”

  “Neither is a week away, not now.” Ryan looked away, anywhere but at Will, and that internal tug came.

  “Tell me to stay and I will, Ryan.” But it was there on Will’s tongue: please don’t, for your own sake. And mine. Will knew he’d keep Ryan in his life, just for the memories, the association, the scent that Ryan unconsciously carried with him. And that… that wasn’t healthy. They both knew that.

  “No. You just make sure you call me, okay?” When Ryan found him again, he seemed to breathe a little easier, as if saying that had helped confirm what was hurting him deep down. He needed to know it was okay to hurt and not to have to face the weig
ht of someone else’s, not when theirs still dragged them down. “Take care, Teach.”

  “You too, Ryan. Stay safe.”

  After a lousy night’s sleep, Will fought off tiredness and pulled open the door to his Rover. Bags now packed neatly into his boot, his USB in his pocket, and laptop sleeping safely in the back somewhere, Will refused to look back at his detached cottage as he got in and gave a weary sigh. Every home was a cottage, barn, or old farm in Burrow Heights, the house and location not really being Will’s ideal choice. But it was close to the university, and, at least for a while, it had also given him the opportunity to look beyond just a career, then all the bullshit and chaos that had followed it. And for that reason, it still had its negative lure as Will did exactly what he’d tried not to do; he looked in his rear view mirror.

  The motorbike still sat outside the garage, a late-teen’s parallel twin engine, must-have Kawasaki Ninja 300, in all night-black with flecks of red. Now the machine was less “mean”, more just old and crumbling under its own weight as it tilted to the side. After everything else that had gone, Will hadn’t found the heart to sell that. The Kawasaki sat in the same defiant I’ll wait right here, he’ll be back for me soon pose, and it nearly tore out Will’s heart under the pressure.

  “I could take her off your hands.”

  Sitting in his car, William barely caught the soft voice as he turned the Rover’s engine over. Jake, from a few doors down, was out for his midmorning run, and he offered Will a shy smile as he glanced at the motorbike on Will’s drive. He stood just a few feet away from the car, moving slightly from foot to foot as if ready to bolt at the slightest word from Will. “She’d get a good home.” Jake nodded at the motorbike as Will let the window fall all the way down.

  “Well, I’ll…” Jake always offered; Will always promised to get back to him. Will never did, and something in Jake’s kind eyes said he didn’t mind. He understood. Will hated how everyone understood, especially when he couldn’t figure a thing out of this whole mess for himself. “Can… would you just keep an eye on her for me whilst I’m away, please?” He buried the need to move the gears as the instinct to get away ate at his insides.