Chapter 17
Afew days later, Duncan took Spencer to his favorite club, where he was meeting his friends.
Mia was there too, clinging to Brad’s arm, giving Spencer a big hug as if whatever had happened between them didn’t matter anymore.
The music blaring as they went for shots in their WIP booth.
Drinking, laughing, but something was off for Spencer, who kept sinking back into that darkness.
A vague boredom too, which he killed with a fake smile and more drinks.
Mia jumped up, swaying a bit. “Let’s dance! Come on!”
Tugging at Brad, they followed her to the dance floor, joining that crowd of swaying bodies in that pulsing light, the music beating at hearts.
Duncan stayed on the side of the floor, close to the wall, watching them.
The scene all too familiar, with Spencer’s hair loose, save for a couple of pins he’d pushed in at the front, his body drenched in sweat already.
That wild dancing, rubbing against anybody who would come close, not even stopping to drink.
Not only the drinks, Duncan knew. They must have licked or sniffed something up in that booth.
Fuck. Pissed, and more worried than angry, that tiny despair there that he could not stay with Spencer, no matter how much he wanted to, because he could not bear this lifestyle, his drinking, him, drenched in alcohol and drugs, always on the verge of collapsing for good.
Tightening his arm on that aching heart, ready to wait for hours, when Spencer emerged from the crowd, and ambled straight to him.
Duncan caught him when Spencer just let himself go, breathing hard against his chest.
“Let’s go… go…” Clinging to Duncan’s shoulders.
Duncan laced his arm around his waist, and pulled his arm over his shoulder. “Home?” Walking out with him, trying to make sure he stayed on those wobbly legs.
Spencer didn’t answer until they got to the car. “No… not home… back to the house… and in the front…” He gestured at the door.
Duncan pinched his lips and sat him in, buckling his belt. The house. He knew what Spencer was talking about, but deep into the night, this didn’t seem like a great idea. Sitting in, he looked at Spencer.
“You’re sure?”
He turned to him, the pins loose in his hair. “Yeah… the house… I can’t stay here… Home…please.”
Duncan sighed, starting the car. “Alright. Try to get some sleep.”
“Ok…” Mumbling, but his head had already rolled to the side.
Fuck.
Driving to those winding mountain roads, he caught headlights behind them.
Another late weekender… except it wasn’t the weekend.
Duncan moved the mirror to see better, the side one too.
Slowing a bit, hoping the other car would overtake them, but it stayed at the same distance.
Duncan slowed more, alert, the adrenaline flooding him, and the other car matched him.
Shit. Slamming the accelerator, the car shot forward, startling Spencer who woke up.
“What…”
Duncan swerved the car on a road going downward between thick woods. “Hold on tight. We’re being followed.”
Not even followed. Chased. That other car racing them down the hill. The road unknown, Duncan had to concentrate not to get the car off it. What the fuck! Mad a bit, that he had maybe let his guard down and not spotted the car before. But maybe it hadn’t been there at all…
Spencer held onto the seat, eyes wide on the road, glancing at Duncan then. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. I’ll try and lose them.” No idea how on that narrow mountain road where escaping was not possible.
Driving as fast as he could, but the car kept up, creeping closer. A lighter car than theirs, it took the turns faster too. Shit.
Bam! That sound tore the silence apart, freezing Duncan’s blood.
He grabbed the wheel. “Duck down!” Pushing at Spencer.
Another blast, close. This time, the car jolted, and the wheel tore at his hands.
A tyre blown, maybe… No time to think anything else, before Duncan realized in that split second, he could not catch the car going awry.
Swerving, still, to avoid a bigger damage than slamming into the trees, he still felt it when the wheel ripped out of his hands and they were thrown in the air, tumbling. Darkness.
Consciousness, a funny thing. Maybe on the verge of a dream, maybe not a dream, but your mind shying from reality, until your brain catches up, and the pain invades that hazy mind.
Curled up, hands tied, the face on smooth concrete.
Blinking, licking bleeding lips, trying to breathe.
That sharp pain in ribs and collarbone. His left one.
Testing with his fingers, his mind slipping into survival mode, even if it also wanted to panic at being tied up.
Maybe a dream… A futile thought, mad worried about Spencer when he could feel the cuffs holding his wrists, tied to a pipe.
Duncan forced himself to wake up, looking around, feeling a breathing, close.
That could of alcohol on it. A tidal wave of relief, even if being tied up was the worst possible scenario, he pushed himself on his knees, looking down at Spencer, knocked out, his hands tied behind his back with cuffs too linked to a chain wrapped around a beam.
Fuck. Duncan couldn’t see if Spencer had been hurt, but he was alive, and that was enough to make him concentrate on that small room with a single metallic door.
Fuckheads. Knowing that he had been there, but this was vastly different.
He sat as best as he could and stretched his leg, nudging Spencer’s shoulder with his foot. Fortunately, whoever had tied them up hadn't taken their shoes off.
Spencer moaned, wriggling a bit as the pain flooded his senses. He didn’t have Duncan’s ways of ignoring it, so he started whining softly, trying to understand where he was.
Duncan spoke softly. “Don’t squirm… you might have something broken.”
“You… you’re here?” A mounting panic in his voice. “I can’t move my hands.”
“You’re cuffed up. Don’t even try. Can you kneel or sit up?”
Spencer tried, drenched in fear, sitting on his legs, locking eyes with Duncan. They tied them up close, but maybe not close enough to touch. He started shivering with the pain in his right collarbone. Tears too, flooded with dread. Licking his bleeding lip.
“What… what…”
Duncan looked around with a small grimace. “I would guess this is you being kidnapped… can’t think of anything else.”
“What…” Eyes wide, any bravado he’d ever had gone with that fear he had never felt before.
“It’s fine, we’re alive.” For now… Giving Spencer a warm look. “Anything broken?”
Spencer licked his trembling lips. “My collarbone hurts…”
“It’s the belt. It broke mine too. Don’t move too much around.”
“Now what?” His teeth chattering too as his head cleared, drenched in pain and fear.
“Now, I guess asshole number one is going to come soon and make a grand speech on how you are kidnapped and your asshole parents need to pay up or else…”
“And you…?”
Duncan pulled a small face. “I don’t know… they might not let me live.”
Spencer was shaking with that sudden wrath. “No! No! No fucking way!”
“Hey, calm down, it’s…” Looking at the door opening, a masked man stepping in.
He had a ski mask on, leaving only his eyes and mouth visible.
“Stop shouting. Awake? Great. That was some stunt you pulled with the car, we thought you both died. But as luck would have it, this is not the case. Enjoy our hospitality until your parents pay up.” He crouched down to Spencer, pushing his hand in his hair.
“Which body part should we send them? Your ear?” Rubbing his fingers on Spencer’s ear, he grabbed his hair when Spencer tried to pull his head away.
“Oh, no, no… you can’t go anywhere… shame we can’t hurt you, precious…
” Taking a large knife, he held Spencer’s hair tight, sliding the knife under it.
Looking into those eyes blown wide with fear.
“Trembling? Scared? Tsk…” He moved the knife and Spencer cried out, anticipating that pain.
Nothing. Trembling, his tears spilled when the man pulled his hand away, filled with hair.
A large portion cut off on the right side.
“Nice… I’m sure your parents will love this hair just tainted with blood. Too bad for your cut.”
“You fuck.”
The man turned to Duncan’s voice, crouching down at a safe distance, he pushed the knife under his chin. “Ah, the faithful guard dog… whatever should we do with you?”
Their eyes met, Duncan’s void of fear, and the man’s with that wicked light.
Spencer almost said something but he remembered what Duncan had agreed with Patrick. Maybe this was the same… don’t show it. Pinching his lips, he stayed quiet, drenched in fear.
Duncan spoke then, soft. “I’ll plant that knife between your eyes soon enough, you low-life fuck.”
The man nudged his chin up, a single drop of blood pearling down Duncan’s neck. “Or I can just slit your throat now… but turns out, your employer said he’d be generous, so why not hit two birds with one stone? Needless to say if they don’t cough up the money, you’re both dead.”
He stood, holding Spencer’s hair in his hand. “I might bring you food and something to drink… if you behave.” He left then, closing the door.
Spencer’s tears spilled. “Fuck… you’re ok?” That compassion flooding his eyes laced with worry.
Duncan smiled. “It’s a scratch. Big mouth. But this is good news, in a way. Time to think about how to get the fuck out of here.”
Spencer scoffed. “How… we can’t, tied up.” Looking around that bare room, the reality of what was happening dawning on him. “I’m scared…”
“And I’m scared too.” Looking around, his eyes roaming the room, the door, Spencer. He had recognized those eyes in the mask though, a bit more at ease knowing whom he was facing, too. “But I’ll figure something out. Just don’t give them anything, nothing on us.”
“I remembered…”