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Tom awoke slowly.

A dull ache was thumping at the base of his skull, and his mouth was dry.

He groaned softly and tried to roll over in bed.

He couldn't.

Realising he must've slept in his car, Tom opened his eyes blearily, trying to reach for the seatbelt release.

It was a moment before he registered that he wasn't in his car.

Looking around, he saw he was in a cellar. There was a bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling, illuminating the gloomy room. The room appeared to be empty, aside from the chair that Tom realised he was strapped to.

Feeling fear mounting in his chest, Tom began to fight against the straps. He strained to free one of his hands, but thick leather belts secured his wrists and ankles to the chair, and a rope strapped his chest to the back of the chair.

He started wriggling frantically, when the seat overbalanced. He crashed to the floor, hitting his head hard against the concrete floor.

Pain exploded through his head. He tasted metallic blood in his mouth, and realised he'd bitten his tongue.

He blinked a couple of times, grunting in pain.

He heard the door to the cellar open and twisted his head to look up at the stairs.

Freddie? He thought confusedly.

*

Freddie closed the front door and flicked on the lights.

He was worried about Tom.

Who else can I call? He wondered.

Glancing at his watch, he decided to call Chez Francois.

"Chez Francois, how may I help?"

"Hi, is this Mark?"

"Yes. Who's speaking?"

"My name's Freddie Glover. I'm Tom Harwood's partner."

"Oh, yes, he mentioned he might be bringing you to dinner tonight."

"Is he there?"

"No."

"Does he have a reservation at all?"

"One moment... No, the book doesn't have his name. He said he was going to ring about a reservation, but he hasn't."

"Okay, thank you."

Freddie hung up before Mark could ask more questions.

He made himself a cup of coffee, wondering what to do next.

Finally, he decided to call Tom's mobile again.

"Tommy, it's me. Please, come home. I need to talk to you. Please, Tommy, I'm sorry for what I said. Please, come home. I love you."

Freddie ended the message and huddled his mug to his chest, feeling miserable and lonely.

 He wandered down to the home-cinema and put on a film, trying to distract himself.

All the while, he kept his ears open for the sound of Tom's keys in the door.

'Witness' - The White Bridge Crime Series 3 - LGBT, manXmanWhere stories live. Discover now