Jail Bait.

‘Come on, come on.’ The girl’s voice had an air of desperation and he needed no more encouragement. He opened the car door and hurried to join the girl who was already shrugging out of her clothes on the back seat. He fumbled clumsily at the belt of his trousers and she giggled.

‘Let me,’ she whispered, reaching out and gripping him through the cloth of his trousers. ‘I can see you’re ready,’ and he saw the smile break across her face. In a few more moments he was naked and burying his face in the comforting warmth of her small breasts. The girl pressed up to meet him, raising her hips away from the bench seat and he groaned with anticipation.

‘Don’t mind me.’ The stranger’s voice broke the silence as he heaved open the passenger door. The two entwined figures sprawled across the back seat sprang apart, and stared at the grinning face of the stranger.

‘Carry on. Don’t let me stop you.’ The voice was that of an educated man, but was muffled by the stocking mask that distorted his features.

‘Who are you?’ The man still lying across the back seat asked. A stupid question, he knew that, but his befuddled brain was still refusing to accept the sudden arrival of the stranger. They were parked in a disused quarry; miles from the nearest house and in the darkness he’d imagined them to be absolutely alone.

‘Trevor.’ The girl’s voice cracked with fear. ‘What’s…?’ Her voice tailed away as she shifted position and saw the masked face of the intruder for the first time. Trevor fumbled for his clothes, reaching out for his trousers which were lying in the space between the front seats.

‘No need for these, Trevor,’ the masked man said, placing extra emphasis on the name and pulling the trousers into the front of the car and out of reach. ‘Let’s have you outside, shall we?’

He reached into a canvas bag he carried and produced a knife. It was not a conventional weapon as such; just a large kitchen knife, but even the meagre glow of the interior light was sufficient to show the length of the blade.

Trevor hesitated, but as the knife came towards him, fumbled for the handle on the rear door and as it opened the girl screamed.

‘Don’t leave me, Trevor.’

He ignored her and climbed out, the sharp edges of stones cutting into his bare feet. He may have imagined he would have the opportunity for flight when he left the car, but the other man was already waiting for him, the knife blade waving lazily to and fro in front of Trevor’s face.

‘Turn round,’ the masked man said and Trevor immediately complied, any faint idea of resistance having evaporated at the sight of the knife. The other man seized both his wrists and pulled a slender strip of plastic until it fitted tightly around both wrists. Trevor struggled but the plastic strip was ratcheted tight and he could not budge it.

He stood shaking in the cold, naked and utterly vulnerable as the other man pushed him along. Trevor stumbled over the rough ground as far as a solitary tree where his captor told him to halt. A length of thin nylon cord was passed around Trevor’s body and tied behind his back, binding him to the trunk of the tree.

It had only taken a few moments, but the masked man gave a sudden gasp of alarm as the door hinge creaked behind them. He left Trevor and ran back to the car where the girl was halfway out of the rear door. She screamed as he touched her and continued to scream as the masked man produced another length of cord and slipped it around her wrists, yanking it tight.

‘Scream all you like,’ he said. ‘Nobody to hear you. Just you, me and Trevor. Enough for a party, eh? Do you like party games?’

The girl stopped screaming, her face a dull mask. She allowed herself to be manhandled back into the car and laid down on the back seat. The man sat alongside her, leaving the door open to give himself enough light to rummage through Trevor’s jacket and trousers. He extracted a wallet and flicked through it, removing a small photograph from inside a plastic sleeve and whistled. He opened the door wider and called out into the darkness towards the shape of Trevor tied to the tree.

‘What’s this, Trevor?’ His voice was mocking and sinister, especially when he again stressed Trevor’s name. ‘Is this lady in the photograph your wife? Don’t tell me you’re being a naughty boy, Trevor? I’m disappointed in you.’ He half-turned and dropped his gaze to the prone figure of the girl.

‘Don’t blame you for playing away, Trevor. She’s lovely, isn’t she? Shame you’re going to miss out, but there’s no need for the little lady to be disappointed, is there?’ The girl screamed again as his words sunk home.

‘Leave her alone, you bastard,’ Trevor called, his voice cracking.
The front passenger door was ajar and the interior light shone a feeble beam on the girl still sprawled across the back seat.

‘How old are you, slag?’

‘Fourteen.’

The man whistled. ‘Naughty, Trevor. Very naughty. Like the young ones, do you?’

‘I didn’t know,’ Trevor protested. ‘She said she was…’

‘You bloody liar,’ the girl screamed. ‘You never asked me nothing like that.’

The masked man grinned. ‘Can’t get away from it, Trevor. You’re a bad lad, aren’t you?’ He flicked through the sections of the leather wallet he’d taken from Trevor’s jacket.

‘Wouldn’t go down too well at work, would it if this got out? What with you being responsible for young kids, eh? Working at a children’s home, no less. What’s all this then, Trevor? Homework?’

‘Look,’ Trevor blustered, ‘I’m an educational psychologist and yes I work with disturbed youngsters, but this has nothing at all to do with my work. I don’t even know this girl, I just picked her up in the street.’

‘Even so, I dare say your employers would be interested in what you get up to with under-age girls, don’t you think?’ The man pulled a photograph from behind the plastic sleeve of the wallet and held it under the light. He whistled softly. ‘Not to mention your lovely wife. Two daughters as well. Nice. Very nice. How old are they then?’

Trevor looked across at the open car door and shook his head.

‘Answer me, you twat,’ the man screamed.

‘Thirteen and twelve.’

‘Interesting age, wouldn’t you say? About the same age as your little friend here. Wonder what your eldest will think if she finds out about this? Will she think she’s next in line? Will she, Trevor?’

Trevor turned his face away, saying nothing.

The other man laughed. ‘Well now, Trevor, I don’t think you’re in much of a position to do anything, so that just leaves me. It would be a shame to get this poor girl all excited and ready and then let her down, don’t you think? Good job I’m here. Leave everything to me, Trevor.’

Trevor moaned, his teeth chattering. It wasn’t just the icy chill of the wind; he felt vulnerable and terrified. The confident manner in which the other man had pinned his arms and tied him to the tree, giving him no opportunity to escape or fight back, had numbed his senses.

Even the voice was compelling. The constant use of his own name by the stranger was unsettling and the photograph of his wife a chilling reminder of his plight. The other man had him in his power, but for the first time Trevor forgot about the danger to himself and considered a possibility that was even worse than anything the masked man could do to him. His wallet contained a lot more than a few banknotes; all the details of his personal life were also there. As well as photographs of his wife and children, the stranger would find everything about him, his home address, the office where he worked, everything.

The girl stopped screaming when the man looked away from her and continued to flip through the wallet, whistling appreciatively at each fresh revelation.

‘Trevor, you’re quite a catch. The girl would have been enough, but now I feel a new friendship dawning. How about it, Trevor? Would you like a new friend?’

Trevor said nothing, his chin drooping to his chest, the picture of dejection. The other man climbed out of the car and walked across to the tree. He bent down and stuck the blade of the knife in the ground by Trevor’s feet.

‘Change of plan, my friend,’ he said. ‘I’ll hang on to your wallet for now and be in touch. Don’t worry about your little friend in the car. She’ll be coming with me. I’ve got a few things planned for her that don’t really fit in with what you’d got planned. A quick shag on the back seat of a car? I think she deserves more than that, don’t you? Best thing you can do is forget about her. I doubt you’ll be seeing her again. I’ve got my own motor parked up a couple of miles down the road.’ He raised an arm and pointed over to his left.

‘Follow the track, you can’t miss it. I’ll leave your car there and the rest of your clothes. There’s a bit of give in that rope. Enough to let you move around a bit perhaps. I’ve left you a knife and I imagine you’ll be able to cut yourself free eventually and walk to your car. I hope so, for your sake. It’s getting cold, too cold to be out with nothing on. Even in bare feet, you’ll get back to your car in an hour or two.’

Trevor raised his head and looked at the masked face of the other man. The realisation that he no longer faced death had given him fresh courage. ‘You’ll not…’

The masked man placed his hand across Trevor’s mouth, cutting off his words.

‘Oh please don’t tell me I won’t get away with this. Too late, Trevor. I already have. I’ve got the girl you brought here to play your naughty games with and she’ll be playing a different game very soon.
With me.
A game she might not like as much, but who knows? She might get a taste for a bit of rough treatment.
I’m going now, but don’t you worry, Trevor. I’ll be in touch in a couple of days.’

He moved a few paces away and then returned.

‘One more thing,’ he said, leaning in closely so that he was almost touching Trevor’s face. ‘Not a word. Not to your wife, although I don’t think that’s very likely, eh? Not a word to anyone. Not to the police. I’ve still got the girl and she’ll be safe as long as you keep your mouth shut. Damaged goods, but safe for now. And just remember, I know who you are. I know where you live. I know where you work. I own you now. Friends don’t tell tales, Trevor, and I really want to be your friend.’

He moved away again and returned to the car. The door slammed and the engine fired. As the car moved away, Trevor could hear the girl screaming above the sound of the engine. As he shuffled down, fingers grasping desperately for the knife, he could still hear her faint cries even when the car had disappeared from view into the inky blackness of the night.

A mile down the road, the girl reached over the back of the seat, ruffled the hair of the driver, his mask long since discarded.

‘Took your time, you bastard. Thought the sad old fucker was actually going to fuck me.’

The driver chuckled. ‘No chance. I’d been biding my time, that’s all. Letting him get his kit off. Your virtue was never at risk.’

The girl giggled, slapping the back of his head lightly. ‘Bastard,’ she said again.