Warnings: This story contains M/M, rape, violence, and language. Proceed at your own risk!

Doug pulled the car up to the curb and hit the brake hard, causing Tom to nearly hit his head on the dash.

"Geeze, Doug! I'm going, I'm going! Hang on a minute, will ya?"

"C'mon…get out. It's after eleven already. I told you if I'm late getting in again Sherri's gonna kill me."

"Yeah yeah…maybe if you're lucky the little lady will let you off your leash again next weekend. If you're a good boy," Tom laughed.

"Oh ha ha…you're just jealous because you don't even have a lady to PUT you on a leash," Doug retorted.

"I don't know, man," Tom said, shaking his head and still chuckling, "she's turning you into quite the domesticated guy."

"Hey, I can go out when I want! It's just…it took me forever to convince her to move in with me, and she just…likes for me to come home on time," Doug finished, sheepishly.

"I'm just giving you a hard time. We shouldn't stay out too late anyway since we're working in the morning. I'll see you then."

"Night!" Doug called as his friend got out of the car.

Tom heard the tires squeal a little as Doug quickly pulled away from the curb, and he laughed again as he watched him drive off. He turned and headed for the steps leading up to the doorway of his townhouse on the corner. Before he could reach them, however, he was grabbed from behind. A hand clamped over his mouth while a strong arm wrapped around his body. He was pulled quickly and roughly backwards, around the corner, and into the back of a waiting car. He was shoved onto the floor, face down, and the person who had grabbed him jumped into the back seat as well. Before Tom could even start to think about what was happening, the car was speeding away.

Cramped up on the floor of the car, Tom could sense that there were two others with him. He started to raise his head to look around, but it was quickly slammed back down by someone's foot. The foot stayed put, holding his head down against the floor, and he felt more feet against his body, keeping him still. He concentrated then on listening for clues as to who might be in the car or where they might be taking him and trying to remember how long they had been driving.

After what Hanson figured was about thirty minutes, the car made several turns and slowed down. A few minutes later the car slowed to a stop and he heard the front door open as the driver got out. Both back doors opened, and the men on either side got out, but he didn't dare raise his head again for fear of another kick. After a moment, hands reached into the back seat and grabbed him roughly by the arms. He was pulled out of the car and dropped onto the ground. He started to rise up onto his hands and knees but was struck down by a vicious kick to his side. He fell back to the ground and was assaulted again with another kick. This one was powerful enough to shove him onto his side where he then received another kick, this one to his stomach.

His breath and strength gone, there was nothing for him to do but take the abuse. Kick after kick landed on his body, knocking him to and fro as he groaned in pain and tried to cover his head to protect it. When the assault finally stopped, he curled up in pain, moaning softly and hoping they were would leave. But he soon felt a boot on his shoulder, pushing him onto his back. He opened his eyes slowly, gazing up at the blurry faces staring down at him. He saw them come closer as they reached for him, grasping his shirt and pulling him to his knees.

Held firmly in their grasp, he was dragged on his knees for several feet and then thrust forward against a third man who was sitting on the seat of a picnic table. The man pushed him back into the arms of the first two men who took hold of his upper arms and held him fast. The seated man reached toward Tom, running his hand over his head seductively before grabbing a fistful of his hair and yanking his head back. He stood up, towering over his young captive before forming a large fist with his other hand and bringing it down hard against Tom's face.

Tom felt his nose break and the blood gushing out as his face whipped to the right. The man tightened the grip on his hair, however, and brought his face back up just as his fist came down again. This time it connected with his left eye. The third time he felt his teeth rattle as his jaw was struck, and the fourth time he felt his lip split open.

Gasping for breath, his head was pulled back again to face his attacker. Lee Eckert stared down at him.

"Hey there, buddy!" Eckert shouted in Hanson's face, grinning wildly.

Tom's heart froze. He wasn't supposed to ever see Eckert again. No one was. He had been sentenced to life without parole for murdering a teenage girl. Hanson had gone undercover, befriending the man after the murder, taking on the persona of a drug-dealing, cold blooded thug who would also kill to get what he wanted. But Eckert was determined to keep his nose clean and remain anonymous in the girl's murder. It was two months before Tom was able to finally get Eckert to confide in him the details of that crime.

Eckert had been crazy with fury when he found out he had been conned by Hanson. Even as he was being arrested, he tried to get to him and would have tried to kill him with his bare hands had the officers not held him back. All through the interrogation, the trial, and the sentencing, Eckert spat out curses and threats toward the undercover officer who had deceived him. But then he was put away and that was the end of that. Or so everyone thought.

Eckert still had a hold on Tom's hair, keeping his head pulled back so that the officer couldn't help but look at him. With his other hand he grasped Tom's jaw tightly, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. "Didn't expect to see me, did you?" He laughed. "Seems like another judge thought thirteen months was enough, considering I'd been coerced into confessing."

Hanson's head was aching, but his thoughts were clear enough to know that Eckert hadn't been coerced. Something wasn't right. What the hell was this guy doing out on the streets? And why hadn't anyone notified the department that he was getting out?

"Yeah, but thirteen months was long enough to learn a thing or two in there. And I have you to thank, Tommy." Eckert leaned down, his face close enough for Tom to smell his rancid breath as he said, "That's why I'm here. To show off what I learned." He let go of Tom and stepped back. "Get him up."

The other two men pulled Hanson up to his feet and held him tightly by the arms, bracing their bodies behind him. "Lesson one," Eckert said as he approached them. "There are no fair fights."