piss off and leave me alone instead of
trying to push your tits in me face!” By the time he finished speaking, Shane
knew his shouting had been a mistake. He could feel the pain returning. He
needed some more medication, but he wasn’t about to ask her for any. Closing
his eyes, he gritted his teeth and rode his discomfort until sleep finally
claimed him.
~~~
Oliver Sinclair
was five-feet-ten and of a slim build. He had fair hair and blue eyes, and he
went to great lengths to promote himself as the quintessential English
gentleman. The truth was, he was a sadistic spoilt bastard who would do
anything to get his way.
He came from a
wealthy old English family. The only child of privileged parents, who
throughout his formative years had pandered to his every whim. Or more aptly,
anything money could buy. By the tender age of six, his self-importance was a
part of his DNA.
His father
divorced his mother when he was seven. Out of nothing but spite, Abbott
Sinclair had refused his mother custody of him. Lisa Sinclair hadn’t put up
much of a fight to change her husband’s mind. He knew this because she’d had
the half-hearted argument in front of him.
As soon as his
mother left, his father packed him off to boarding school. Ollie remembered how
lost and alone he’d felt when he’d first been sent away. He’d pleaded with his
father to allow him to come home. But no matter how much he cried and begged,
Abbott had left him where he was.
His boarding
school hadn’t been anything like the schools portrayed on TV and film. For him
the whole experience had been a living nightmare.
One of his first
and lasting memories was when he’d refused to get into the freezing showers,
some of the older boys had been ordered to hold in
under the water. This meant that they’d had to go through the morning ritual
twice. They’d all had to say under the spray for fifteen minutes.
By the time they were allowed out, they were blue and well on their way to
hypothermia. For that, the older boys had caught him when he was alone and beat
him until he threw up.
The beatings
continued until he in turn began hurting others smaller and weaker than
himself. He used any means at his disposal to subjugate his school mate and get
his way. And before long, Ollie found that he enjoyed inflicting pain on
others.
After being sent away, he rarely saw either of his parents. When
in their company, they ensured he learned one lesson well, he came from
aristocracy, and he should never forget that important fact.
At first he didn’t
understand their arrogance. But as time went on he began to imitate their
actions. They were right of course. If one projected an air of superiority
others invariably believed it, and tended to react accordingly—namely with
deference.
Ollie took to his
role of wealth and advantage well. However, he made slight adjustments to the
way his parents behaved. Times had changed, and he at least acknowledged that
brilliance came from all walks of life.
His charm and good
looks usually got him what he wanted. If they failed, his money more often than
not became the deciding factor. For the first time in his adult life, with
Shane, his charm and supposed wealth failed him.
Ollie had heard of
Shane through the motoring grapevine. Everyone assured him that he was the man
to talk to regarding restoring vintage car engines. Ollie had put him to the
test.
Four Years
Earlier
Oliver Sinclair
checked his watch again. By the time the lion shaped knocker echoed against the
front door, everything was in place.
When his guest was shown into the sitting room, the first thing that struck
him was that Shane was much younger than he had expected. He was twenty-four
and the youth standing before him couldn’t have been long out of his teens. The
second notable point was that he was so handsome, Ollie had to fight to keep
his body under control. He had a particular weakness for dark-haired young men
and Shane seemed almost tailor
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