Lost Memories: The Predator

Riding the motorcycle, Etienne felt doubt creeping into his mind. The detective's words lingered, replaying like a haunting melody.

"This man is a serial rapist, and you are exactly his type. The reason you haven't heard of him is because he just arrived on this planet."

His hands were wrapped around the body of a supposed predator. He pressed his left temple against Byron's ear, his heart uneasy. But the small tracker planted in his tooth gave him a sense of security. At least the police were monitoring their every move. All he had to do was wait for the right moment—when Byron was at his most vulnerable.

"Mr. Bellamy, can you hear me? Click your tongue twice if you do," Detective Baxter's voice crackled through the tiny microphone attached to Etienne's right earring.

Etienne click his tongue twice.

"Good. Now, remember, we're playing the long game here. We need to gather solid evidence first so we can ensure he gets the maximum sentence when we finally capture him. This could take weeks or even months, but we appreciate your cooperation."

Detective Baxter's words were firm, calculated. He continued, "Now, we need you to win his trust—make him trust you enough to reveal everything. That's your job: making sure he falls in love with you and believes in you. Don't feel bad for him; he didn't feel bad when he was committing his crimes." 

Etienne felt dizzy, his thoughts swirling like a storm. A part of him still refused to believe that Byron was as bad as Charles claimed. If he were just a thief, Etienne could forgive him. But he was more than that—a predator. 

Someone had to stop him before anyone else got hurt. And that person is Etienne himself.

What now, I'm a hero? I never want to be a hero, I'm an artist! Etienne sulks. As much as he feeling scared right now, he hates more feeling afraid and stress.

Byron drove him out of the city, away from the crowds, into the silence of the night. The further they went, the more secluded the surroundings became—winding roads leading into open meadows and the shadowed edges of the forest. The stillness of the place only made Etienne's pulse quicken.

This is the perfect place to rape someone and dispose of the body afterward.

Detective Baxter's warning played over and over in his mind, each word tightening the grip of anxiety in his chest. If he felt truly threatened, he was to say the code word: Calico. That would be the signal, the emergency call that would send the police rushing in to save him.

He wanted to say it now.

"Oh, Byron, look...!" Etienne called out, and the rider tilted his head slightly to hear him more clearly. "Meadow, forest, no one here, we are far from anywhere..... It's a perfect place for you to rape and kill me!" 

Right at that moment, Danny, Charles's assistant, spilled his coffee and coughed violently. His life depend on it or he can't breath. However Charles remains focus on the monitors and calculating where they are headed. 

Byron immediately hit the brakes, bringing the motorcycle to a sudden stop. He turned his head to Etienne, confusion flashing across his face, then glanced at the vast meadow around them. Nothing but the sound of crickets.

"You want to do it here?" Byron asked, raising an eyebrow. 

"Why not? We even have an audience," Etienne said, gesturing toward the starry sky. 

Byron chuckled. "Why do we need an audience? So they can jerk off while I strangle you with grass? Nah, I want privacy." 

Danny wheezed, still coughing violently. 

"At least..." Etienne just loved how Byron played along with his crazy jokes. He slipped his hand under Byron's throat and gently choked him, pulling him back to lean against his chest. Byron didn't resist, simply resting his weight against Etienne, as if they were having a picnic. 

"...doing it here won't leave any DNA trails. Better than a hotel." Etienne was referring to bloodshed, fully convinced Byron was a serial rapist, just as Charles had warned. 

"There ain't any trail-free hotel sheets," Byron replied innocently, removing Etienne's hand from his throat and kiss his finger in the process. 

"Don't worry about it, babe. I know a motel nearby. I'll drop you there so you can prepare yourself," Byron said, revving his motorcycle again. 

"Okay then..." Etienne sighed, wrapping his arms around Byron's torso once more. Just a few seconds after Byron accelerated, he casually added, "...can I at least write my will first?" 

"Oh, that's a great idea, babe," Byron chuckles, thinking it's a joke. "Cuz I swear, by morning, you'll be totally wasted." 

A few miles behind them, a police van trailed closely, keeping tight surveillance. Danny looked exhausted, slumped in his chair, and shot Charles a weary glance. "I don't want to hear them crashing into each other." 

Charles, eyes fixed on the monitor, replied flatly, "Bear with it. We can't turn off the microphone. Now be quiet, I'm about to give him instructions." 

"Mr. Bellamy, ask the fugitive—what's his plan ahead?" Detective Baxter's voice crackled through the earpiece. 

Etienne rolled his eyes. That question was beyond his character—it made him sound like a child. But since he had agreed to work with the detective, he did it anyway. "So, aside from kidnapping me, what's your plan ahead?" 

"I don't have a plan other than that one at the moment, but when I do, I'll tell you," Byron responded casually. 

Byron turned his motorcycle toward another direction, pulling into a motel parking lot. It was a small roadside place, with six rooms on the second floor and a 24-hour café on the first. The entrance doors were made of glass, layered with a black transparent film. It didn't seem like a dangerous place. A few bikers in leather jackets and tattoos loitered around the parking lot, their eyes briefly flicking to Etienne, cautiously observing him. 

Etienne got off the bike and tightened his jacket as he watched Byron secure the motorcycle, making sure it was locked from potential thieves. As Byron worked, he glanced at Etienne, and in return, Etienne jokingly blew him a kiss. 

Byron chuckled, shaking his head. He really loved Etienne's sass.

One of the bikers, a burly 50-year-old man with an eagle tattoo on his arm, approached Etienne. Byron noticed immediately and stood up, ready to defend his man if they tried to snatch him away or if things turned transphobic. 

Etienne also noticed someone approaching and instinctively turned around, slightly on guard. 

The biker pointed a finger at him, as if trying to recognize his face. After a few seconds, his eyes lit up with realization. "Etienne Bellamy? The opera actor?" 

Etienne's smile widened as tension lifts. "Yeah. Do we know each other?" 

"My daughter is a big fan. She's always talking about you. My wife too," the biker said cheerfully, putting Byron's wariness at ease. It was a friendly interaction. 

"Oh, it's an honor. Thank you so much," Etienne responded humbly with a nod. 

The biker's expression shifted slightly, curiosity flickering in his gaze. "Why are you here? I mean... this isn't exactly a normal place for... you." His eyes briefly darted to Byron, as if assessing whether Etienne was in danger or not. 

"Oh, I..." Etienne hesitated, glancing at Byron. What should he say? Anything he said could be used against him in the future, considering his reputation as an actor. Should he say he was with his boyfriend? That he was kidnapped? That he was on a business trip? 

That sounded safe. 

"I have a little business trip with my friend," Etienne shrugged. 

"Oh, I see..." The biker didn't seem entirely convinced. His gaze flickered back to Byron, scrutinizing him. A man like Byron could easily overpower someone like Etienne if he wanted to. If Etienne was in trouble, he might need help. 

"If you ever need anything, we're here," the biker added meaningfully, pointing at his friends who politely nods and smiles at him, some of them even waves hands. Etienne replies their warm greetings with polite gestures. 

"Thank you so much, but I'm good," Etienne reassured him before parting ways. He turned to follow Byron into the motel. 

Inside, Byron approached the front desk to book a room. 

"Double bed or queen-sized?" the clerk asked. 

"Queen-sized," Byron answered casually. 

The clerk handed over the key, and Byron motioned for Etienne to follow him. He found their room and unlocked the door with the key in his hand. 

Once inside, Etienne opens his trench coat, revealing the black dress with clevage fabric revealing the side of his thigh, and flamboyantly turn his body around to sits on the bed. He look at Byron seductively while placing one of his leg on his other knee, making flirty inviting gesture. His sexy glances dares Byron to eat him up.

Byron's plan was simple—drop Etienne off at the motel while he handled business with the client who hired him for the GOLIX watch. Then, he'd return to the motel to spend a fiery night with Etienne. 

But that gaze—undeniably challenging, teasing—made his priorities changes. 

Without a second thought, Byron locked the door and impatiently approached him.

Etienne giggled as Byron pushed him onto the bed, laying on top of him and taking his time kissing Etienne's plump lips. He used his tongue, alternating between deep kisses and playful pecks, savoring every moment. 

"Hmm... you're a good kisser," Etienne moaned indulgently, demanding more. 

"I'm supposed to meet someone right now," Byron confessed, "but I don't want to part with you." 

"Don't go, kiss me more..." Etienne grabbed Byron's leather jacket tightly, pulling him closer, and Byron obliged, deepening the kiss. 

In the police van, Charles was about to press the button to ask Etienne about Byron's upcoming meeting, but Danny stopped him. 

"Sir, don't. They're intimate right now. Byron might hear your voice and figure out he's being tracked." 

Danny was right. Charles crossed his arms and endured the torturous sounds of smooching and moaning coming through the speakers.

A few minutes later, the sounds coming through the speaker shifted. The moans faded, replaced by something else—wet, slurping noises mixed with soft giggles from both of them. 

"That was one healthy junk," Etienne's voice purred through the speaker, laced with a sultry tone. 

The police officers exchanged glances, each trying not to let their imagination run wild. 

Then, breathless and needy, Etienne's voice came again, "Ah, Byron… stop teasing me… when will you put it in?" 

"You better beg me, mama." 

"Please.... please....I beg you...."

A sharp smack rang out—followed by the unmistakable rhythm of wet flesh meeting flesh, mix with excited moans and groans and dirty talk. There is a heated war right there.

Danny exhaled heavily, shaking his head. "Damn… I miss my wife." 

Charles, arms crossed, muttered under his breath, "don't even talk about it."