by J Paton
He was the first to look away.
“I’m gonna change. Grab a drink out of the fridge if you want one, and if you don’t mind get me a beer.” I didn’t wait for his answer before going to change. I returned with my laptop and the external hard drive containing everything I had on the case, including what Phil had shared. I’d taken the precaution of renaming the information in order to make it less identifiable.
Tegan sat in the armchair, a bottle of Becks beer dangling from his fingers. My beer was on the coffee table in front of the sofa. I picked it up, meeting Tegan’s gaze over the rim of the bottle. “I won’t be able to elaborate on what I’m about to share, or tell you where it came from in order to protect the other party. Is that going to be an issue?” I held my breath.
“I can’t honestly answer that. It might be once I’ve seen it.”
His honesty loosened a few of the knots in my gut. I took a sip of beer to moisten my mouth before placing the bottle down and opening my laptop. “Dom’s Haven has two clubs housed in the building. I’m trying to gain access to the lower level one. The person who gave me the information believes that there is a missing boy called Immanuel who he’s been searching for down there.” I laid it all out, trying to fill in as many gaps as I could.
His beer remained untouched as I read out the file names and what we thought they pertained to. I told him about my involvement in the undercover op on Macintosh, the possible parallels between the cases, all of it. The only things I held back were about Jup, and about Phil’s team being undercover.
Once I’d finished, I picked my beer back up and drank deeply, the yeasty taste helping rid me of my distaste.
Tegan’s stare didn’t reveal his thoughts. “Did you use those questions to set me up?” His voice was pure steel, showing that beneath the jovial exterior he was a man not to be messed with.
“No. I needed those questions asked because I don’t know why that information isn’t being shared with me. There’s something amiss here. My gut is never wrong.”
The nod I got was measured. “Okay. Why did you decide to share this with me knowing I can use it against you?”
My throat thickened. “Because after what you shared with me, you of all people should understand what I don’t want to happen to these men. They’re being sold as what? Sex slaves? The lower-level club isn’t any better. There they’re abused for a fucking monthly fee!”
He lifted his bottle, meeting my gaze as he took a sip. I had to work to keep my distress under control.
His expression was grim. “I’m in. But hear this, I’m an all-in kind of guy, so if there are any other secrets, now is the time to share them. I don’t give second chances.”
The painful thud of my heart made it hard to take a deep breath as I kept my gaze locked with his. Jup? No, I couldn’t. No matter what. “Remember what I said at the beginning… I won’t put my source at risk. They’ve given me intel that would have taken me months, if not years to get hold of. I can’t share this directly. I’m trying to drip feed it through my reports instead.”
I took another drink of beer, trying to decide the best way of bringing up what I’d asked Gabriel to do. “I’m hoping that someone I’ve befriended in the club might get me access to the lower level. He said to give him a few days.”
“Can he be trusted?”
“I’ve got little choice. Without any hard evidence McHart’s never going to seek a warrant to get in that club.”
Tegan’s expression turned thoughtful. “He implied today that Mr. Robertson willingly participated in the abuse.”
It took a huge effort not to fling the bottle across the room. “He’s full of shit. Mr. Robertson no more willingly participated in the abuse than I could travel to the moon under my own fucking steam.”
Tegan’s eyes glittered with amusement. “I don’t believe Mr. Robertson is lying. The police surgeon’s report made for a horrific read.”
“Yeah, that man suffered and it still continues. I made enquiries into how the court case was going. Critchlow’s barrister made mincemeat of Mr. Gawne. I’m hoping Mr. Robertson gets through tomorrow unscathed. Because whatever happens, whatever they find in Critchlow’s house might only be the beginning.”
“That was the only thing I got out of fuckface, that they’re going to apply for a warrant once they’re aware of the outcome of the court case. I can’t see why we have to wait, but what do I know?” Tegan shrugged his broad shoulders.
“Fuckface, I like it. And yeah, I can understand it. They might need to change what the warrant covers if something else comes to light at the trial. What surprises me is that they didn’t delay the case and get the warrant while he was locked away. I don’t suppose it matters now. The important thing is that they check the house.” My gut was back to being tight at the thought of what they might find.
Tegan stood, placing his bottle down on the table. “I take it you won’t be going to the club tonight?” I shook my head. “Then I’m gonna head. Same time tomorrow?”
I placed my own bottle down and got up. “Yeah, thanks for…” I wasn’t sure what I was thanking him for, but Tegan didn’t seem to think anything of it as I stopped talking. I followed him to the door, waiting until he’d opened it before touching his arm in a compulsion I hadn’t felt for a long time. When he looked back, I gave him the same look he’d given me earlier.
The air thickened with sexual tension. His eyes were hooded, his tongue coming out to lick his bottom lip. I could smell the beer he’d drank.
“When this is over…”
I nodded. “When it’s over.”
Dom’s Haven
Heavy footsteps descending into the cellar created tension in the dimly lit room. It was always the same, the knowledge of what came next familiar to all of us. I didn’t look at the empty cage next to mine. It would soon be filled, and with it would come the screams, the terror, and then the reality that this was their new life. Until it wasn’t.
After days of not being taken out, at least that’s how long I thought it had been, it was a struggle to get into position. My body was weak, my muscles rebelling and making me struggle to keep my cries in.
Would I be left alone again today? My body trembled, my mind at war over whether it would be better to be taken out of the cage or to be left behind. Being alone was rejection. It meant I was unworthy.
A sob rose in the back of my throat at the realisation of how fucked up I was.
The door opened, Riley and ugly fucker coming in, something oppressive filling the room. After spending so long in this place, even the smallest of changes could be felt. My innards trembled with the memory of them dragging the sub out of the cage. There was always a cost when that happened. How long had it been since…?
Had it been days? Or weeks? My sluggish mind wasn’t sure, and I didn’t dare look at the wall of my cage where I’d scraped lines to keep track of time passing.
“Get them out. We need to check them over before he gets here. And be careful,” Riley growled.
Be careful?
Oh Gods!
My heart fluttered wildly and I couldn’t get any stale air into my chest. It heaved, sickness from my infected wounds making it hard not to vomit, bile burning a path up my throat.
They were never careful with us. Given the way my legs were trembling, I wasn’t sure I would be able to stand upright as the cages were unlocked and men were pulled out one by one. I waited my turn, knowing that something bad was going to happen. Was this retribution for the sub dying? I’d lost the ability to rationalise the behaviour these monsters displayed, but whenever something happened we were always the ones to be blamed, to be punished.
Keys rattled in the lock, my legs shaking violently as I tried my best to stand, ugly fucker growling low and mean and yanking on my arm. I lost my balance, my legs giving way. I landed on my hip hard enough to make my whole body scream in agony. Blood filled my mouth from the effort it took to hold the cry in. I blinked furiously, tears flooding
my eyes.
“Just cry out. Give the fucker the opportunity to finish you,” the voice whispered seductively in the back of my mind. I caught Immy’s gaze, a reminder that I’d made promises. But the seductive voice also made promises, and they were becoming far more enticing.
“What the fuck did I say? He’s already been out of action for two weeks!” Riley growled, but didn’t bother coming over to see if I’d been hurt.
Why would he? You’re worthless.
I stood slowly as ugly fucker moved to the next cage. We all knew the drill. I limped to my place in the line, keeping my head down so no one could see how much it was costing me to remain standing. Weakness wasn’t tolerated. Fear yes, but weakness… No, that wasn’t a luxury any of us could afford.
Once all the men were lined up, I somehow managed to find the strength to stay standing in a pose of submission. I braced myself, the men on either side of me doing the same. Only there was no icy blast of water from the hose they used either as a punishment or to clean us. Instead, there was just silence, a layer of icy sweat forming on my skin.
There was the sound of boots thudding down the wooden stairs, the icy layer increasing as I struggled to make sense of what was happening. No one came down here except Riley and ugly fucker. The wild fluttering happening inside me could have been either panic or excitement.
Months of everything always being the same made me yearn to look.
Don’t do it!
I didn’t listen, peeking through my eyelashes and losing the ability to breathe once I saw the man standing next to Riley.
The devil!
“See, this is what you get for not listening,” the voice sing-songed
Oh, God. Was this their retribution?
The man stood tall, the power radiating off him making him impossible to ignore. Why was he wearing a suit? It was expensive and immaculate. It would get dirty. The inane thought brought a bubble of hysteria with it.
Scary eyes roamed along the line of men, and I had to bite the inside of my cheek hard. The longer the silence continued, the more my chest burned with the need for oxygen. But the panic of releasing laughter and bringing down the wrath of the devil was too great to attempt what my body wanted. Fear was what fed the hungry monster in front of us and he lived for it. Those of us who’d spent many days in this place knew why this man came here. He was the worst of them all. He craved the wickedness of breaking men until there wasn’t enough left for even the birds to pick at.
“Pick me,” the seductive voice whispered.
Footsteps on the floor were the only sound in the room as the man walked to the far end of the line. Immy’s body brushed against mine in the merest of touches, and I knew he was trying to reassure me that everything would be okay. Only it wasn’t, and I wasn’t able to pretend any longer. Not even for him. Days in the cage alone had done things to my mind that couldn’t be undone. I was broken, the pieces too jagged to put back together. There was nothing left for me but the seductive darkness.
Every time the devil stopped to pinch one of the sub’s chins, there appeared to be a relieved sag of shoulders, Riley’s face pinching with anger. He was moving ever closer to me. What was the devil looking for tonight?
When he touched my chin, I wasn’t entirely sure I wouldn’t pass out. The second our eyes met sealed my fate. I could see it in the depths of his evil eyes. The devil wanted me. I was the chosen. I accepted it philosophically, praying I’d lose consciousness before the devil ripped my soul apart and drank the remains of whatever was left after all this time.
“This one. Wash him properly and take him to the stage. You’ve got thirty minutes.” My chin was released from the punishing hold, several men whimpering.
As ugly fucker took my arm to lead me to the poor excuse for a bathroom, I didn’t look at Immy. I couldn’t, or else he’d know I wanted this.
My devastation at leaving the one person who had become my centre was swift, tears leaking from my eyes. I was dragged into the shower stall, my vision blurring.
“Cry, you measly fucker,” ugly fucker growled as he pushed me under the icy blast of water.
The numbness that followed was a welcome relief from the pain, as was the break from the stench of my own body. The shower gel was cheap because we weren’t worth anything. But I didn’t care as I washed myself in a methodical way, knowing what was expected. I didn’t look at the dark discolouration on my skin or the scars covering my body. They were just a part of me.
More tears mixed with the icy water. For the first time I was grateful that there was no one to claim me, to identify what was left of me, to witness my shame.
Would they put me in a pauper’s grave?
The hysteria was back, and I struggled to swallow it, tipping my head back to wash my hair and opening my mouth so that it filled with water.
Let it be quick. That’s all I ask. Please let it be quick.
It was the best I could hope for.
The water was turned off a couple of minutes later, and I was handed a piece of threadbare cloth, ugly fucker snarling, “Get a fuckin’ move on, I haven’t got all night.”
I swiped at my body, my trembling starting anew and my skin burning now that I was out of the freezing water. My wet hair hung around my shoulders, dripping on the skin I’d just dried.
“Fuck, can’t you do anything right?”
The cloth was snatched from my quivering hands, and I was attacked with it until my skin was raw and bleeding. Smears of blood covered the cloth by the time he threw it to the ground. Ugly fucker took hold of one wrist in a punishing grip and I was yanked back into the cellar. Whatever blood I had left inside my veins froze at the sight of the full cages.
Why were they all locked away?
The shivers wracking my body increased as my sluggish mind tried to come up with an answer.
“Move it.”
He pulled me past the cages and over to the door as numerous pairs of eyes stared out of the cages.
Had I saved them a night of torment?
A smile spread across my face.
My last good deed.
Gabriel
As I’d got dressed, a feeling that something was going to go down tonight had unfurled inside me. Riley hadn’t given me a specific day when I’d be doing the demonstration for his special clientele. In fact, he’d been a little evasive over the last two days, making it hard to find the right time to mention Tucker. I’d decided to tell him that Tucker, like me, was a Shibari master. A joint show with both of us demonstrating what rope masters could do might generate enough interest to get Tucker the invite he wanted. Could I make it happen before my next visit to hellhole?
Was it bad that I wanted Tucker to help me survive down there?
I placed both hands on the edge of the bed, my head hanging down as I sucked in a couple of breaths. In my own home and away from the club, it was easy to acknowledge the horror of what I’d seen and how afraid I was of what was coming. I hated the fact that I wasn’t doing the job I was being paid for. Immanuel was counting on me, his doe eyes haunting my sleep and reminding me that I hadn’t been able to identify him as one of the men in the cellar, even though my gut told me he was there.
Facing those suffering men and not being able to do anything to stop their torment was… if I had a word for it, fucked. My hands gripped the bed cover and I squeezed hard enough to make my knuckles ache. Just get the job done!
Releasing my tight hold, I stood slowly, catching sight of myself in the mirror on the wardrobe. The devastation was there in my eyes, and it took way too long to mask. Once I had, I grabbed my jacket and left.
By the time I arrived at the club and acknowledged the guy on the door, I had some semblance of control over my emotions. “Evening Wally.”
“Gabe, you’re late tonight.”
A lazy grin spread across my face. “I was otherwise occupied, tying up a few loose ends.”
He chuckled. “You’re a bad man.”
“Ain’t
that the truth.” I gave him a salute before heading through the door.
The foyer was empty as I handed my jacket to Chris. “It looks like a slow night?”
His cheeky grin appeared. “Nah, the place is hopping. I’m getting the sense that something is happening tonight.” He rolled his eyes, transferring his gum from one side of his mouth to the other. “It’s always the way when I’m working.”
I slapped him on the back. “Them’s the breaks.”
“Yeah,” he said mournfully before perking up. “Remember if you’re ever looking for a sub to play with, I have Tuesdays off.”
I chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind.” I gave him a wink and then headed into the club. I’d taken no more than ten steps inside the door when I spotted Riley making his way towards me, the feeling from earlier returning. The sense that the other shoe was about to drop, and drop hard, increased at the sight of the wide smile spreading across his face. I stopped and waited for him to reach me. Chris had been right, the place was busy, the music too loud to hear the cries of the subs as always.
Riley slung an arm over my shoulder, the scent of his sweat filling my nose. “Just the man. Tonight’s the night.”
I feigned ignorance, my stomach forming into tight, painful knots. “For?”
He snickered. “For you to wow us with a display. You did say you were a Nawashi rope master. My partner’s interested to see how you use those hemp ropes as an extension of yourself to connect to the person you’re using them on. You know we all like to connect to the sub.” He laughed uproariously at his own joke, and I had to put my hands in the pockets of my leather trousers so they were out of harm’s way.
He continued, seemingly unaware of the buttons he was pressing. “Shibari displays aren’t something we’ve done.” He lowered his voice, not that anyone could have overheard our conversation over the music. “Downstairs, I mean. I know we hadn’t confirmed a date, but doing it tonight won’t be a problem for you, will it?”