Jem's POV
I forced my eyes to stay closed as I tried to make the pieces around me fit together.
Figure out what you know first, then figure out the rest and make a plan, his voice echoed in my head all these years later.
My hands were cuffed behind my back, I was on the ground, which was made of concrete, and I most certainly had a concussion from whatever hit my head before I went down. Everything hurt, they likely beat me up to keep me weak before I woke up and to keep Andrew and Patrick compliant.
My ears strained to pick up any movement but I heard nothing. Not scuff of a shoe, no rasp of a breath, not even crickets chiming from outside. I was alone in whatever room I was in meaning they could have already killed Andrew and Patrick if they didn't have the information they wanted or they could still be torturing them for information they didn't have.
My chest ached as I forced myself to open my eyes for the first time since I woke up.
My hands instinctively tested the strength of the cuffs behind me but it was clear they weren't budging. A chain was connected to them and seemed to be attached to the wall. Even if I managed to get to my feet to make a run for it, the chain wouldn't let me go more than a foot before it dragged me back into place.
The room I was in was more like a basement than anything. A dark basement that was cold as hell. All I could make out was the vague outline of a door, a table that seemed to be covered with weapons but was far out of my reach, nothing more than a tease.
A little wiggle of my legs told me that all of my phones had been taken and likely gone through but I doubt they were smart enough to actually get any information off of them. Hell I had taught Dev how to do it and he still can't do it so I didn't have much faith in these random idiots.
I took a deep breath to force myself to calm down and try to come up with a plan now when the lights turned on just as the door opened. I winced at the bright lights and forced my eyes shut at the invasion while a laugh rang through the air.
"Don't pretend to be asleep now," the voice chided lightly. "We already know you're awake. Besides, your little friends here are worried about you. Better calm them down before Andrew has a heart attack."
I forced myself to get used to the light just as two forms were shoved in front of me. I didn't have to look to know who they were. I was on my knees in seconds, positioning myself in between Patrick and Andrew and the men holding us hostage. Turning my back to see them would be a death sentence but I had to know.
"Are you okay?"
"Well enough," Patrick grumbled, still behind me but also shoving Andrew farther back to force them to get both of us before getting to him.
"Andrew?"
"Andrew's a bit too worked up at the moment," the familiar young voice said with a sick smile on his face. "He's been having a panic attack since he got here, I doubt he'll be much help with any plan you come up with so I wouldn't count on him."
"Who the fuck are you?" I asked even though I didn't care.
Keep him talking. You job is to buy your men time to find you and plan an attack of their own. They can't do that if you're dead before they even know you're missing.
"Don't tell me you don't remember me Jem," he teased with a smirk on his face. "I mean I know it's been a while and I've definitely changed but surely you haven't forget me." Despite the proud smirk hurt laced in his voice as I took in his features for the first time.
His hair was bright red, clearly dyed, and styled to cover half of his face. He was Latino but had no accent meaning he was likely raised here in the states around people who didn't speak Spanish well enough to force him to learn and to keep the accent. He was short, only about 5'7, couldn't weight more than 150 soaking wet and was only about 17 years old.
He was so familiar but I couldn't place him to save the life of me.
"Are you absolutely sure we know each other," I asked as I looked him up and down. "I mean, I think I would remember a psychopaths who had tendencies to kidnap people."
"Jem shut up," Patrick seethed from behind me as Andrew began crying lowly.
A scowl quickly covers the boy's face as his jaw tightened in anger.
"Landon, Henry, get down here," he called out to the door. It didn't take long for the door to open and close again, leaving the basement more crowded than it was only seconds ago. "Bring him here," he said, pure malice laced with his words as he stepped closer to the table.
One of them held my arms tightly while the other unhooked the chain from the wall.
Patrick moved to stop them but a quick glare from me was enough to make him stop.
I went limp in their arms as they carried me to the table before chaining my hands to the celling, keeping me from running or blocking any of their attacks. It also gave me the first clear view of Patrick and Andrew since they got here.
Other than the clear state of distress Andrew was in, he seemed to be fine, no cuts or bruises to be found but he stared at me with tears in his wide, terrified eyes.
Patrick had a bruise forming on his cheekbone. Seeing how they had treated the two of them so far, it likely came from him trying to fight back and they did the bare minimum to keep him calm. He looked collected but having known him for a while I could tell he was just as scared as Andrew.
(Slight gore warning)
"You know me. I know you do," the boy said again as his fingertips trailed over the knives, tazers, whips, and pliers. "How about we play a fun game," he said as he looked up at me with a deranged smile on his face. "You try to guess my name or even how you know me and I'll tell you if you're right or not. If you get the answer wrong I get to cut you. You'll have unlimited guesses until you run out of blood."
"If this is going to be a fair game I get to have a hint or two," I said as I worked hard to keep the seethe out of my voice as Andrew's crying only picked up when the boy gripped the handle of a knife and began cutting my shirt off.
"I'll allow that," he said simply as he let my shirt fall to the floor. "First hint, I'm the reason you have that," he said as he jammed his finger into the still healing bullet scar. I stifled the groan for Andrew's sake while fighting the urge to shy away from him.
"Andrew stop looking," I sighed when the pressure finally eased. Andrew only shook his head in horror before Patrick pulled him closer to his chest, hiding his face from seeing anything while his hands reached up to cup his ears.
"Elijah Down," I said now that Andrew wasn't looking. Elijah was the only reason I was at that warehouse but we had a confirmed kill. He was supposed to be dead.
I bit my tongue to keep my pain to myself when a sharp pain cut through my chest.
"Nope. I can't believe you believed that though. You have three names yet you can't tell when someone else stole a name? You killed the real Elijah in the raid. He was a sweet boy by the way. You really should feel bad about that."
I could feel the blood running down my stomach before slowly puddling on the floor.
"Next hint, I used to work for you." He didn't give me a chance to answer before another cut joined the first one. "Need another one? I was a drug runner just like little Liam used to be." I groaned in pain as the third cut dug into my skin harder than the first two times. "Not enough? I suppose that makes sense. You really did only care about Liam. The rest of us were just extras for you to rule. How about this one, you found me by a dumpster, cover in bruises and scars, when I was 12. You didn't offer to take me to the cops. You didn't ask who or how or why. You just gave me your hand and offered a job and place to sleep. Who am I Jem?"
"I don't know!" I seethed as cut after cut slid across my chest and stomach.
"Yes you do! I know you do! What is my name?"
Pain. Pain was all I felt. In the distance I could hear Patrick gasp as the knife slid through my skin. I didn't bother hiding the pained noises this time as the next stab was aimed just below the last one.
"What is my name?" He seethed stabbing me at each word.
I was loosing blood fast.
(End of slight gore)
"Boss you'll kill him. You told us not to let you until he figured it out," one of his men said as the boy cleaned my blood off the knife before slamming it back on the table.
"Wrap him up before he bleeds to death but leave him chained here. He needs time away from them to think." He didn't bother saying another word as he walked out the door.
His men didn't bother being gentle but soon enough the bleeding stopped and over a dozen bandages covered my body.
"Are you okay," Andrew's weak voice asked, cracking as tears poured down his face.
"I'm okay. I promise. Dev is on his way, we'll be out of this mess before tomorrow afternoon." I said as I forced a convincing smile. Andrew nodded before hiding his face in Patrick's chest again. "Go to sleep," I told them with a yawn of my own. "We'll need our strength for round two. This is far from over."
Despite my own words I stood there in the center of the room wide awake. I shamefully jumped at every noise made upstairs; my eyes searched the dark room constantly convincing myself people weren't lurking in the shadows.
My mind raced to figure out whom that kid was but no answer came to mind. All I had managed to figure out was everything he had told me but honestly, does he realize how many abused kids I found and took in from dumpsters? It wasn't much of a hint.
I did my best to make a list of every kid I took in but as it went on faces and names became a blur. He could have been anyone of them; there was simply no way to narrow it down without more information.
Still as I managed to doze off standing up as the list cycled through my head, looking for the kid who managed to slip through the cracks.
Just buy time Jem. Just buy your men some time.
Last updated June 30, 2022