Chapter 25
Chapter twenty-five
“What have you done to Tim?”
Warren adjusted the cap on his head. “He’s fine –”
“Where is he?”
“Outside. Tied up in the back of his van.”
Scott’s breath caught. “Did you hurt him?”
“I imagine so, he’s an old man; it must hurt being tied up and gagged like that.” Warren shrugged. “Someone will find him eventually, then again…”
“What?”
“It’s a hot day… There’s no window open for him.”
“You bastard.” Scott tried to get around him, but Warren threw him back.
“I wouldn’t start name-calling if I were you.”
“I’ve got it,” Scott snapped. “I’ve got all your money with a day to go.”
Warren’s smile had Scott backing up. “Never doubted you, Beauty.”
“I’ll send you it.” Scott reached for his phone on the bed, only to recoil in shock at the sharp pain across the back of his hand. It opened, dripping blood, and through the gap, Scott saw the layers of skin Warren had cut through.
“Tut, tut, Beauty.” Warren had Tim’s secateurs in his hands, admiring the blades. “Jesus, these are sharp.”
“I have your money,” Scott said, wrapping up his hand with the bottom of his shirt.
“It was never about the money.” Warren snipped the air with the secateurs. “It was always about the experience, and you described such a perfect one to me.” He shook his head. “I have money. I don’t need any more, but I don’t have you, not the way I want to.”
He stepped closer. Scott backed off until his back hit the wall.
“Thomas is coming.”
“He might be, or you might’ve just lied to my face. I know now you’re a liar and can’t be trusted.”
“He is.”
Warren cupped his ear. “I don’t hear any car.”
“Fuck you,” Scott spat, edging closer to the door that led to the panic room.
Warren swung the secateurs. “This time you won’t be escaping through a bathroom window…”
“It’s not a window,” Scott snapped, throwing open the door. He dropped to his knees as Warren tried to grab him and began crawling.
“What the hell…” Warren murmured. “A tunnel?”
He laughed, and Scott heard him scrambling behind him, following him through the fairy lights until they got to the corner of the house. Scott stood up, then clambered up the narrow staircase to get to Thomas’s floor and the panic room.
The room to panic in.
Warren surged up the steps, swinging the open secateurs. Scott cried out at the pain to the back of his ankle; he kicked, catching Warren in the face.
“I’ll make you pay for that.”
Scott stumbled into the panic room, clutching the thigh of his bad leg. The open wound soaked his sock and trainer, and each step shot white hot pain up his calf.
Warren charged him before he took in anything of the room, slamming Scott up against one tank, then another, before sinking his fingers into Scott’s hair and twisting.
He paused his assault. “What the…”
Warren looked around while clutching Scott’s hair, dragging him along while he turned to get a good look at the room.
“What the fuck is this?”
Warren pulled Scott over to the closest tank, peering in. “Snakes.” He laughed. “That should’ve been obvious.” He threw Scott against the tank, and blood smeared the glass. He could see John on the other side, taking an interest in the harsh vibration of Scott’s nose meeting the hard surface.
“I’ve got your money,” Scott told him through busted lips.
“I told you downstairs, it’s not about the money.” Warren peered into Lucy’s tank. “I don’t see it…”
Scott prayed that she’d escaped and was slithering her way across the room to bite Warren’s ankle.
“Now there’s a pretty one,” Warren murmured by Scott’s ear, taking him to another tank.
Scott couldn’t remember the name of the snake behind the glass, but she was wrapped around a branch, flicking her black tongue.
She had a triangle-shaped head, and Scott vaguely remembered Thomas telling him to beware of the triangle-shaped head; it suggested the snake was venomous.
Scott knew this one was, but Thomas had said it was only a baby.
Her venom wouldn’t be potent enough to kill.
She was tan yellow with brown oval spots lined with black.
Scott had thought she was rather beautiful.
Warren slammed Scott's face into the glass, once, twice, then the glass broke, dropping in and out of the tank. For a moment, Scott thought Warren might hold his face there, let the snake bite him, but instead he let Scott go and crumple into a heap on the floor.
He curled up in the foetal position, but Warren kicked him in the back until he spasmed and cried out, rolling over to lie flat face down on the floor.
“That’s better, Scott,” Warren said softly.
He got down on the floor, pressing a knee to Scott’s back.
“Hands,” he ordered.
They were hidden beneath Scott’s chest, clutching at his shirt.
“Now, Scott, or I’ll cut your face.” He leaned over Scott to look at him, humming as he inspected the damage. “I’ll cut it again, deep enough that it’ll scar.”
Scott lifted himself up enough to get his hands out, then slipped them behind his back. They were shaking. Warren grabbed on to them, pinning Scott with his knee while he fastened the cable ties around his wrists.
“Much better.” Warren sighed. “Do you remember what I wanted to do to you first?”
Scott pressed his lips together.
Warren smacked the back of his head. “It’ll only get worse faster if you refuse to speak.”
He needed to play for time in the hope Thomas would get there.
“You wanted to cut my hair,” Scott blurted, frowning as he said the words.
They’d been having sex when he’d said it with Scott face down on the bed and Warren behind him, panting wetly at his neck. Scott was sure he’d heard wrong, but Warren had fisted his curls and said it again in his ear, snapping the words.
“Not cut your hair,” Warren corrected. “I wanted to cut it all off, take it in my hands and rip the damn stuff out.” He snipped the secateurs. “But these beauties will do a better job…”
Warren grabbed a fistful, before pulling, making Scott’s scalp burn, then he cut through the strands, catching the skin. He dropped it onto the floor by Scott’s face.
“That’s one,” he said, before taking another handful.
Scott’s forehead throbbed. His lips, hands and feet all stung, and he tasted blood. He closed his eyes as the pile of his hair grew. He knew Warren would take it all.
“There,” Warren said, rolling him over so they were face to face. He straddled Scott, rubbed a finger over the cut in his lip. “Not so beautiful now…”
Scott’s eyes watered. Warren flicked his cheek.
“Don’t go getting all upset now, you said I could do this, remember?
You said I could knock you around, break you, cut you.
” He grabbed the hair and began to sprinkle it over Scott’s face.
“You said it because you know you’re worthless.
Men like me, the ones that pay for you, they decide your worth.
I valued you at 100K to do whatever I want with you, and after I’m finished, no one will pay for you again. ”
The front door slammed.
Warren whispered by Scott’s ear. “Move, or make a sound, and I’ll hurt him too.”
He leaned back, shifting as he grabbed something out of his pocket. Scott only realised what it was when Warren leaned over him again. Warren had covered his face with a balaclava.
“Scott?” Thomas shouted.
“We’re in here!”
Scott’s brow twitched. He struggled as Warren flipped him back onto his front.
The door opened, and Thomas froze, seemingly taking in the scene. His gaze settled on Scott with his cheek pressed to the floor, then flicked up to the man on top of him.
Thomas’s expression contorted into a snarl. “Get you’re fucking hands off him!”
He rushed forward, curling his hands into fists.
“Ah-ah,-aah,” Warren said, twisting Scott’s forearm. “One more step and I’ll snap it.”
Thomas stopped, rocking forward and back on his feet while he glared at Warren.
“Take whatever you want,” he hissed. “Just let him go.”
“And what if I want to take him? What if that’s all you’ve got that I want?”
“I won’t let you,” Thomas said. He crouched, and his gaze snapped back to Scott. It hurt too much to look back, so Scott squeezed his eyes shut.
“What the fuck have you done to him?”
“I gave him a little haircut,” Warren replied, stroking a hand over the back of Scott’s head. His fingers smeared, and scrapped, making all the nicks and cuts on Scott’s scalp known. “Urgh, blood,” he murmured, before wiping it on the back of Scott’s shirt. “Looks a mess, doesn’t he?”
“I’m going to kill you.”
Scott opened his eyes at the thunder in Thomas’s voice.
“No, you’re not,” Warren snapped. He grabbed the secateurs off the floor, flicking the safety off in front of Scott’s eyes, the blades opened like a mouth. “Because if you come anywhere near us…” He held the blades to the side of Scott’s neck. “I’ll kill him first.”
Scott pressed his lips in a firm line, breathing fast from his nose.
His heart pounded; he could the feel the vibration of it in his cheek against the floor.
He heard it then…the hiss. It sounded like steam escaping a kettle, a whoosh of noise.
Scott tensed, expecting Warren to hear it too, but his goading of Thomas distracted him.
He couldn’t see it, but he knew it was behind him, whipping out its tongue, scenting the air.
It was more likely to bite him than Warren with him bleeding in multiple places and his fluttering heart leading it towards them.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Warren said. “You’re going to throw me your car keys.”
“No fucking way.”
Warren dragged the blade underneath Scott’s jaw, cutting the skin.
Scott tried to move his head away, but it was no use; Warren cut him from his jaw to his chin drawing the blade against the bone.
He lifted his head enough to turn to face away, no longer looking at Thomas but towards the broken glass.