Free Scared by Sarah Masters Page A

them for. One glance in his rear view mirror was all it would take. But if this gang, or whatever the hell it was, had been watching them, they'd have already gathered him and Russell were gay.
    Toby settled for leaning in to land a kiss on Russell's neck. His lover smelled of fear, and Toby licked the proof of it from his lips—salt from sweat. Would that be the last time he'd ever kiss Russell? Was this journey the only time they had left together? That was a fucking grim thought—he hadn't considered they might be separated once they got to wherever the hell they were going.
    A large green road sign edged in white stood up ahead, taking Toby's attention from morbid thoughts. The headlights made the white glow, but he couldn't read the wording yet. From the image on the sign of a road and a roundabout at the top, he hoped they approached civilisation. Well, he did and he didn't. While they travelled, they were relatively safe. Together. But if they headed toward London—Russell had said they were being taken back down south—who knew whether this mob's headquarters—if they even had one—was in the middle of the city?
    He nudged Russell. “Road sign coming up."
    Russell straightened and looked out the windshield. Toby had to lean across in order to see now, but the words became suddenly clear. They approached London—only a few miles away—and roads to various other surrounding places sprouted off the roundabout image.
    "Reckon we're headed for the city. Stands to reason, doesn't it?” Toby mused quietly into Russell's ear, a tinny pop tune overriding his voice.
    "Probably. Who fucking knows?” Russell slumped back against the side of the van and stared at the ceiling. “What does it matter where we're bloody going? The result will be the same whether we're in Camden Town, Ladbroke sodding Grove, or someplace else. We're dead, mate. End of story."
    Fuck. Russell had given up already. Toby saw it in his eyes, the slump of his shoulders. Well, if he had to be strong enough for both of them, he'd do it. No way would he give up at the first hurdle. They had no idea what lay up ahead, he knew that, but there might be all manner of opportunities presented to them in the near-distant future. Ones where they could try and get away.
    Those concrete blocks didn't appeal.
    Dying in any fashion didn't appeal.
    The van going around the roundabout had Toby watching out the windshield again. His shoulders ached from his arms being wedged behind him, and craning his neck added to the pain. But if, as he suspected, the pain was going to get worse later on, and meted out by bullies’ fists and whatever the hell else they chose to use, he could stand it for now.
    Streetlamps around the edge of the roundabout gave the sky a strange, muted orange glow and enhanced the blackness beyond. Toby shivered involuntarily and held his breath, waiting to see which road the driver would take. The big bastard ignored the London fork and continued round, slewing onto one of the roads that led elsewhere. Toby's stomach rolled over as yet more countryside whipped past.
    The concrete blocks were becoming more of a reality than he would have liked.
    We could still be going to some town or other. Somewhere we can shout for help.
    He chuckled at the unlikelihood of that. These blokes would have a hideout somewhere. Stood to reason, didn't it?
    As though his thoughts had predicted the truth, the van slowed then turned right down a rutted track. Trees, branches bare and knobbly, lined either side, creating a canopy overhead. The headlights picked out the track, tightly packed, dark mud that the rain had barely penetrated. A stripe of grass ran down the middle, the tops brushing the undercarriage as the van trundled on. Ahead, the lights of a building shone out, several yellow squares and a few dots that Toby supposed were garden lamps.
    His pulse throbbed in his neck, guts clenching, as his heart thudded dully.
    Risking a glance at Russell, he found his