“Who’s this?”
He was thrown when a frightened woman answered.
“My name is Scott. Where is Olivier? Who are you?”
“Amber. He threw the phone at me and said that if it rang I had to answer it.”
She was crying, that much was obvious. She sounded absolutely terrified. He looked at the agent then at the empty screen, just waiting to be told what to say.
He decided to ask his own questions while he waited for instructions.
“Are you alone? Are you hurt?”
“No, there’s a few men with guns. They separated everyone into different groups and different rooms. So many people are dead.”
He saw words appear, but ignored them for now. He needed to know. “My friend Mitch, do you know where he is? Is he ok?”
She hesitated, a tiny hitch in her breath as her crying seemed to escalate. “The brunette boy. He’s… I’m so sorry.”
His heart dropped, fear gripping him. “Is he dead?”
She seemed hesitant to say, catching her breath through her tears. “They’re… they’re taking turns raping him. He’s just screaming.”
And that was it. He felt his insides turn to stone. “no…. no no no. Please. They can’t be. He can’t ….No. no no no.”
“I’m so sorry.”
He stood knocking over his chair, no longer able to control his anger, his sorrow… the intense pain in his heart. He let out his own horrible wail of sadness. It no longer mattered if Mitch walked out through that door. His best friend was gone. He’d never hear the sassy words, the playful lilt in his voice, the blatant flirtations that were so inherent. He’d never again hear the taboo remarks that often times made him laugh so hard he’d cry. He’d never feel that warm body in his arms while they cuddled on the couch to watch tv, would never again be able to climb into bed behind him in the middle of the night when stress had his brain on overload and the only thing that could calm and relax him was the other man’s presence.
His best friend, his other half was dead. He didn’t know what it was he was trying to save anymore.
He fell to his knees on the pavement, emptying the contents of his stomach. His heart was already gone.
___________
He was left alone again, tossed into that same office he’d been kept in before and left to his own devices. Every single movement caused the knife still in his shoulder to shift and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from screaming out.
Then he had a moment of clarity. That knife… the point would be perfect. Now he just had to pull it out. He felt sick to his stomach at just the thought, and just taking the handle in his fingers caused the tears to fall again, but he had to do it. He took two deep breaths, closing his eyes and thinking of the one thing that had kept him pushing forward and pulled it out in one motion. He fell over onto his side after it was done, giving himself a moment to regather some strength, some will. He pushed up his sleeve, maneuvering the bracelet so that he could start unscrewing it with the knife. He nearly cried in relief when he was finally able to get it off.
Well… he’d been relieved until he heard clapping coming from the door and laid eyes on the man who’d shoved the knife in his shoulders in the first place.
“What do we have here. Are you keeping things from me Michelle?”
“No… no I was just trying to get it off so i could give it to you. I didn’t have the screwdriver and…”
The man approached him, kneeling in front of him and taking his face in his hand, squeezing his lower jaw so that his cheeks pushed upward. “Shhhhh. I thought we were friends. You should have told me. I could have taken it off for you, but you kept it from me. I’m disappointed in you Mitchie.” He released him before grabbing hold of his arm, hauling him roughly to his feet, causing him to scream out in pain from not only his ribs, but his injured shoulder. He was pushed forward and out until they reached a different room where there about 6 women huddled around and one young girl he guessed around 5.
“This deserves a special kind of punishment, my dear.”
He stood there in the middle of the floor, watching Olivier relay orders to 2 armed men. One nodded and suddenly grabbed the tiny young girl and pulled her aside, causing who he assumed to be her mother to reach for her, begging for them to release her. Olivier tossed Mitch’s phone at her before saying something to her as well.
It was barely 5 minutes of tense silence before the phone rang. Olivier suddenly grabbed him roughly from behind, arms wrapped around him, hand covering his mouth as if he was going to try and fight or get away. He felt his heart begin to race and watched the man with the little girl move a little closer.
No… no no. This was not how things were supposed to go!
He listened to the woman holding his phone answer, could hear Scott's confused voice through the speakerphone and wondered what hell he was about to be put through.
“Are you alone? Are you hurt?”
“No, there’s a few men with guns. They separated everyone into different groups and different rooms. So many people are dead.”
“My friend Mitch, do you know where he is? Is he ok?”
She hesitated and when she did the man holding her little girl pointed his gun right at the tiny red head who began to quietly cry. The woman whimpered out her response. “The brunette boy. He’s… I’m so sorry.”
“Is he dead?” He hated that apprehension in his voice, the fear that Scott was going through because of him. What was the point of this?
Olivier nodded at her and she gave Mitch an apologetic almost guilty look, but she managed to answer anyway. “They’re… they’re taking turns raping him. He’s just screaming.”
“no…. no no no. Please. They can’t be. He can’t ….No. no no no.”
He froze for a moment, the shock of those words taking a moment to really register, but then the fight found him. He couldn’t put Scott through that lie. He knew what it would do to him, knew it would break his spirit. He fought against his captor for the first time, tried to make a sound behind his hand. He had to let Scott know he was ok, that it wasn't the truth, but Olivier held him with minimal effort. His body screamed in protest of his movement, but adrenaline kept him fighting.
“I’m so sorry.”
He could hear a crash of something being thrown or pushed over … and then the sound that broke his heart, Scott let out the most heartbreaking cry he’d ever heard and he fell apart inside. He went limp in the hateful man’s arms, tears falling like rain as he heard a woman's voice come over the line. The woman holding his phone just watched Olivier for instruction and disconnected the call when he nodded at her.
They released the little girl and Olivier also released him with a laugh. He immediately turned in his arms and started hitting him wherever he could, banging his fists into his chest.
“WHY DID YOU DO THAT!!!! YOU HEARTLESS BASTARD!!! ”
One of the other armed men grabbed him and pulled him off of a laughing Olivier and he was carried back to his previous solitude, kicking and screaming at him the entire way.
____
The agents were trying to get him to pull it together, but it was hopeless. He couldn’t stop crying, could barely form a sentence. He didn’t know where to go from there. Alex had gone for a walk, unable to get himself under control enough to even help support Scott. He was spinning out of control into a pit of despair.
He clenched his fists when the phone rang again.
He didn’t want to say anything, didn’t trust his own voice, but the tech accepted the call anyway and he tried to stop his tears long enough to speak, but he just couldn’t bring himself to say anything that wasn't a curse..
“Did I lose you Scottie boy?”
He opened his mouth to try to form words, but quickly closed it, wrinkling his nose with the effort to keep from spitting profanities at him, damning him to farthest depths of hell.
“He’s not dead. If you’re worried about your boyfriend, don’t worry, he’s in good hands.”
“You sick son of a-”
“Now, now is that any way to talk to your friends? Now, I’m feeling rather gracious at the moment. I’ll let your little tantrum slide.”
He slammed his fist down onto the little counter in front of him. “What.do.you.want. I’m done playing your fucking games.” He hissed out.
He could hear the amusement coming from the other man once again. “If you’re ready for those hostages, i’m ready for food, but i have a special offer for you in particular.”
“Just spit it out.”
“I want you to deliver it. You bring the pizza and the beer, I’ll send out a hostage to help you bring them in. Then, because I’m feeling so incredibly generous, I’ll let you take your boyfriend with you when you’re done.”
The agent took his arm, shaking her head no, but that wasn’t an option. If this was his chance then he didn’t give a damn what they did to him, if this was how he got Mitch out of there then this was how he’d do it.
“You have a deal.”
“You have 10 minutes, bestie.”
The call ended and the circus began.
____
Scott had lost his temper. That’s why he was currently shirtless, hands tied, holding his arms around one of the ornamental columns. When they’d cut his sweater off he’d worried they were going to do what they’d lied to Scott about, but no.
The first blow of the leather belt to his back almost caused him to lose his footing, the second was so painful he literally lost his breath momentarily. Apparently they’d decided it would be fun to use the buckle end as well, destroying the skin of his back. At some point he lost consciousness. It was probably for the best anyway.