Page 13 of Deep Down

Dr Wick would get into trouble, possibly lose his job if Darren complained about him—which he would—but Darren would be pissed Craig had lied to him. There was something inside Craig telling him to keep quiet, no matter the consequences. And it was those instincts that he always listened to; they had saved him many times in the past five years.

He obviously hadn’t replied fast enough because Darren took hold of the front of his t-shirt and dragged him vertical, holding their faces close together. “What the fuck did you do for over an hour on Thursday? Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” Darren tilted his head. “You fucking someone behind my back?”

Craig shook his head, vehemently.

“You don’t need me anymore. Is that what this is about? Found yourself a sugar daddy?” Sweat poured off Darren’s skin as he panted.

Ignoring the pain, Craig rested his hands on Darren’s, which were tightly clenched around his clothes, trying to soothe him. “No. I’m not! I promise! There is only you, Darren!” He lifted his hand to rest it against Darren’s cheek but was slapped away and pushed back into the corner of the wall. He winced as the sharp surface pressed into his six-day-old bruises but didn’t make a sound, a sure-fire way to get Darren more pissed off.

Darren wrapped a hand around Craig’s neck, holding him in place, forcing Craig to stand on tiptoes to keep air circulating through his system. He left his arms loosely by his sides, knowing there was no point in trying to pull Darren off.

“What did you do? Fucking tell me!” Darren’s face was beet-red, the vein on his forehead pulsed and his nostrils flared.

Craig took a short breath before speaking. “I was ill.”

“Bullshit!”

Now Craig had chosen the lie, he had to stick by it no matter what. If he changed his story, Darren would be angrier than ever. “I was! I was sick!”

“I don’t believe a single word you’re saying, you little shithead!” The hand which held Craig’s throat tightened slightly before throwing him away from the wall towards the centre of the room, luckily missing the coffee table. He landed in a heap on the rug and rolled to his back, coughing roughly. “I think you’re cheating on me. You had some hanky-panky while I was at work, slaving away to make sure we have enough money to pay the bills. And there you are, not pulling your weight and doing your job like you should be. You’re fucking some other guy.”

Craig shook his head from his place on the floor. “No!” he rasped.

“Well, I hope he was worth it.” Darren stalked towards him, lifted him by his t-shirt again and dragged him across the room towards the hallway.

Craig tripped over the corner of the rug, which pulled him free from Darren’s grasp, falling forward. He lifted his hands to break his fall, but his forehead hit something on the way down. Then there was black.