15
CHRIS
Trevor slammed the brakes from time to time, sending Chris’s body crashing against the trunk’s sides. It became even worse once they began to drive on bumpy dirt roads. Chris fought his growing nausea so he wouldn’t puke while his mouth was gagged.
He didn’t know where they were taking him. They could have killed him earlier if they had instant death in mind, but he wasn’t willing to bet on that.
The car finally stopped with screeching tires, slamming him against the trunk one last time. Footsteps approached before the trunk door lifted, letting a gush of chilly wind inside. Dusk had almost settled by the look of the darkening sky.
“Hi there, Danny. Sorry I’m not a better driver. Must be all the excitement.” Trevor pulled him out, and Chris’s tied legs made him crash to the ground, hurting his shoulder and raising a cloud of dust.
He shook his head and looked around. A wide-open space of untamed grass lay in front of him. Farther away stood a wall of clustered trees. The scenery seemed somewhat familiar, tugging eerily at old memories. Still on the ground, he turned his head to look the other way, and the pieces finally clicked. This was worse than he’d feared. He yelled through his sealed lips and tried to crawl away, but he was only hurting himself further.
Don’t exhaust yourself.
He stopped, heaving deeply, then forced himself to look at the small, ramshackle house in front of him. Behind the house, the tips of a Ferris wheel and a roller coaster peaked above the treetops. He had briefly mentioned this place to Ethan while they were at the cabin last month, but there was no way that Ethan would know where to look or even remember that part of the conversation.
“I haven’t been here in years,” Trevor said and stretched his back. “Last time was when you were in college, remember? I snatched you right from campus and brought you here. Man, we had a fun couple of days, didn’t we?”
Chris remembered those days in pieces because he had been mostly drugged. One thing he did remember vividly was not believing he would get out of there alive.
The house was an old Mitchells’ property. Robert had bought it when a new amusement park was supposed to open, but the construction on the park had stopped when the entrepreneur went bankrupt. People who bought property around the area quickly canceled, but Robert had been too far into building this house, so he ended up finishing it, hoping that someday it would be worth something. Evidently, that hadn’t been the case.
“Maybe someone else lives here now,” Andy said quietly.
“Please, in this shithole? How much would you pay for this dump?”
Andy squinted at the house before yelling, “Ten million dollars!”
Trevor shook his head. “You’re even worse at money than me.” He crouched down next to Chris and pulled out a knife. “I’m going to take off the duct tape around your legs. Get a good look around you; see anywhere to run? That’s right—nowhere. You’ll get up and walk straight inside. No funny business, you hear?”
Chris gave a single nod. His escape wouldn’t be here and now. He would need time to think and to plan. Until then, he’d play along.
Trevor cut the duct tape from around Chris’s legs, then pulled him up and steered him toward the house. The walls had been peeling for years, partly covered in untamed ivy. The three stairs leading to the narrow porch creaked loudly under his weight. Trevor used a key to open the front door, which creaked louder than the stairs.
Chris gingerly stepped inside and immediately felt the drop in temperature. The old walls did a poor job of retaining heat. It was almost completely dark, with shadows playing hide-and-seek between doors and corners.
“Hold on.” Trevor flicked a switch, casting light into the narrow hallway.
“How can there be electricity?” Andy asked.
“I sorted it out a couple of days ago. Another bill we can’t afford to pay.” He tapped Chris’s shoulder. “Yet.”
They walked deeper into the cold house. The light was dimmer in the living room because half the light bulbs didn’t work. There were only a few pieces of tattered furniture around.
Trevor hurried to the fireplace. “I’ll get this working before our balls get frostbite. Danny, get your ass on the couch.”
When Chris sat, dust rose, clogging his nostrils and stinging his eyes.
“Can I take off the duct tape from his mouth?” Andy asked and sneezed.
Trevor put old logs with spiderwebs into the fireplace. “Yeah, but leave his hands tied.”
Andy peeled the duct tape from Chris’s mouth, leaving his lips irritated and raw, but at least he could breathe easier.
“Now you can talk as much as you like, Daniel!”
“Great.”
“Hey, grab a broom and start swiping before we get asthma,” Trevor told Andy.
Andy disappeared into one of the rooms. Chris watched silently as Trevor got the fire working, his profile glowing in the dancing flames. The room warmed up quickly, but the old burning wood smelled bad. Trevor came over to open the only living room window behind Chris.
A possible escape route. The cold evening’s air danced on the back of his head while the fire warmed his face. He was going to get sick like that, but catching a cold was the least of his worries.
“Trevor.”
“Yeah?” He sat next to him. “Damn, this couch is disgusting. We’ll be cleaning all night by the looks of it.”
Hearing that brought a small dose of comfort. If Trevor planned on staying here for a while, perhaps Chris was safe for now—at least from death.
“Why are you doing this?”
Trevor cocked his head. “Are you thick or something?”
He needed to collect all pieces of information. The more he learned about Trevor’s plan, the greater his chances of sabotaging it would be. “Can you please just tell me?”
“Sure, I’ll tell you whatever you want to know. Come here.” He wrapped his arm around Chris’s shoulders. “Romantic, huh? The two of us next to the fireplace. Makes me feel all fuzzy inside.” He kissed the side of Chris’s head. “Ask whatever you want.”
Before he got the chance, Andy entered the room. “Found the broom!”
“Great. Start cleaning the bedrooms.”
“Aren’t you helping?”
Trevor sighed. “I think I did enough for one day.”
Andy made a face before walking out into the narrow hallway.
“Lazy bastard,” Trevor said fondly. He turned to Chris. “Shoot.”
“You know I’m trying to solve the issue with the will.”
“Yeah, but time is ticking, and you have nothing.”
“You don’t know what I have.” Unless Dima had told Trevor how bad things were going. Chris should never have spoken with him about it, but he never imagined something like this happening.
Trevor placed his hand on Chris’s leg. “I know you’re smart, but even you have limits. Whichever trick you might pull out of your ass will take too long. I have people breathing down my neck, and they aren’t patient.”
“The police will come after you. I know you’ve been working on an alibi, but I haven’t been quiet about what’s going on. People know about your threats.”
“My threats?” He moved his hand higher, his thumb brushing against Chris’s crotch. “I never threatened you. You think I have time to do that while I’m out there vacationing in Florida? The death of my parents wasn’t easy on Andy and me, so we needed to get away for a while. And there are people in Florida, who I may or may not have paid with the last of my money, who have seen Andy and me over there. Hell, they’re seeing us right now!”
“You’re counting on everyone being stupid and buying your shit.”
Anger flashed in Trevor’s eyes. Good. Angry Trevor was more prone to make mistakes. “Watch it, Danny. We’re either having a nice conversation, or we’re not talking at all.” He began unbuttoning Chris’s shirt. “I know that people will be looking for you, and maybe I am playing with fire, but you know what? The alternative is even worse.”
“I can give you enough money to leave and settle down far away with Andy.”
“I’m not the type to go undercover, and I’m used to a certain lifestyle that your handout won’t cover.”
“Fuck your lifestyle.”
“Damn, what got you so upset? A respectable lawyer like you should have better manners.”
Trevor finished unbuttoning the shirt and spread it open, his cold hands reaching for Chris’s chest. “I missed your skin.”
“Trevor—”
“Shh, let me enjoy this.” He sniffed Chris’s neck. “I love it when you sweat.”
“Why haven’t you killed me yet?” He both dreaded the answer and wished to know the truth.
“Jesus, are you crazy? I’m not going to kill you.” Trevor stroked Chris’s cheek, their eyes locked. “You’re going to kill yourself.”
*
By the time Andy got back into the living room, Trevor had finished removing Chris’s clothes and bound his hands to the front. When Chris demanded to hear more about Trevor’s plan, he’d gotten a firm refusal.
Trevor laughed when Andy entered the room. “You look like you came back from working at the mine.”
“Everything here is dusty and gross. I miss my room.”
“Your room isn’t going anywhere, and at least I got the fireplace going. Come keep Danny company while I bring stuff from the car.”
“Food?”
“Yeah, I brought food. Don’t expect anything fancy, though; we’re on a budget.” He turned to Chris. “Should I waste my breath explaining what will happen if you do anything stupid?”
“No. Can you please close the window?” Now that the sun had set, the cold wind felt like ice fingers on his skin.
“Sure.” Trevor closed the window, then stepped outside.
Andy came to sit next to Chris, his weight causing the rusty couch springs to squeak. As much as Trevor scared him, at least Trevor was somewhat predictable and could occasionally be reasoned with.
Andy sat close enough for his breath to reach Chris’s face. “How are you, Daniel?”
“Well, I’ve been kidnapped, Andy, so things aren’t so great.”
“Oh, right. Hmm, anything that I can do to help?”
“Let me go.”
“I don’t think that I should do that. Please don’t try to trick me. Have you read any good comics lately?”
“I don’t read comics.”
“Then I’ll give you some of mine!”
As Chris had always expected, Andy remained stuck in the past, a disturbed child who had never been forced to either grow up or get help. Chris remembered the constant battles between Trevor and his parents over that, while secretly praying for Andy to be sent away, where his broken mind could either be fixed or drowned in drugs.
Andy’s little eyes traveled down. “I can see your willie. Hello, Willie!” He reached for Chris’s balls, cupping them in his damp palm.
Chris tensed but didn’t move. The only way to handle Andy was to endure. The man was like a claw, and once he got his hold on you, struggling only hurt more.
He hissed when Andy closed his fingers on his right testicle. For a few moments, he held firmly as Chris’s heart rate accelerated. Then, gradually, the pressure grew, sharp and nauseating. Chris bit down on his lower lip and shut his eyes, trying to focus on his breaths and not on the pain.
Andy began to hum, the familiar sound like nails scraping across Chris’s skin. He still heard that sound from time to time, sneaking into his dreams until he awoke in cold sweat.
The front door opened as Trevor returned. “It’s getting cold outside! Andy, bring some plates and glasses. Come on, I’m starving.”
Andy let go, and Chris sighed in relief, although the pain still lingered.
“Wash everything before you bring it!” Trevor called as Andy left the living room. “Are you ready for a reunion celebration, Danny boy?” On the dusty table, he placed different bottles of alcohol.
“I can’t drink with my hands tied.”
“Oh yeah?” Trevor uncorked a bottle of vodka. “Let’s test that claim.” He sat next to Chris and held the bottle to his lips. “Drink up.”
Chris reluctantly did, the strong drink burning his mouth. Trevor kept holding the bottle until Chris couldn’t drink anymore and turned his head away, cold vodka spilling over his chest.
“Did I tell you to stop drinking?”
Chris coughed, bitterness caressing his tongue. “Sorry.”
“We can’t let good alcohol go to waste.” He leaned down and licked Chris’s chest thoroughly, then raised his head and pressed their lips together.
Chris tried to wriggle away, but Trevor leaned against him, forcing him to lie back on the couch while his tongue slipped into Chris’s mouth. For years, he had resented the feel of another person’s mouth because of the countless hours he’d spent kissing Trevor.
“I brought everything,” Andy said and entered the room.
Trevor broke the kiss. “There’s Chinese food in one of the bags. Dig in.”
“Aren’t you eating with me?”
“In a sec.” He reached for another bottle. “Some tequila, Danny?”
Chris met Trevor’s eyes as another part of his plan became clear. The last time Chris had been held in this house, they pumped him with drugs, but drugs cost more than booze.
Trevor brought the bottle to Chris’s mouth and poured the strong tequila down his throat, this time sticking to measured gulps.
Since he hadn’t eaten in hours, Chris could already feel himself on the verge of drunkenness, his thoughts growing sluggish as his stomach churned angrily.
Trevor placed the bottle on the table, then rose to pull off his shirt, his body lean yet without muscles. He never stuck to any kind of sport, or anything else that required commitment, which used to drive Robert crazy.
Trevor pulled down his pants and underwear, revealing his hard cock. It used to seem bigger in Chris’s younger eyes.
“Guess who else missed you. Give it a kiss hello.” Trevor moved closer, and Chris sighed and gave the crown a kiss. He wasn’t drunk enough to do anything stupid like bite it, although he almost wished he was.
“That’s it? Are we PG-13 all of a sudden?”
Chris drew a breath, then wrapped his lips around Trevor’s cock. He tried to suck as best as he could under the circumstances, knowing that Trevor would be able to tell if he was slacking. By not fighting, he may be able to buy himself more time. The more he thought about it, the less likely his chances of being rescued seemed. He would need to count on his wit, although Trevor wouldn’t let him keep them for long.
Like he could read Chris’s thoughts, Trevor pulled out his cock and poured tequila over it, then slid it back into Chris’s mouth. “You’re getting drunk on cock, Danny. Does that make you a cockoholic?”
Andy giggled.
A few minutes later, while Chris’s jaw grew sore, Trevor pulled out. “You’ve still got the moves, that’s for sure. I bet you’ve been practicing.” He sat on the floor facing the table. “God, I’m starving.”
“It’s not very tasty,” Andy said.
“Doesn’t seem to slow you down any. And once we get our money, it’s fancy restaurants for the rest of our lives.”
“Like Subway?”
Trevor sighed. “Yeah, like Subway.”
“Where will Daniel sleep?”
“Where he slept last time.”
That meant the basement. Through the haze of alcohol, he shivered. That damp place had been freezing when he’d been locked there years ago.
Trevor turned around. “Open up.”
Chris ate the cold and oily spring roll, his stomach grumbling.
“This is nice,” Andy said.
“What is?”
“Being together again with Daniel. But I still miss Mom and Dad.”
“I know you do, but you have me.”
Andy beamed. “Forever and ever?”
“Fuck yeah!”
“And Daniel too?”
“That’s more of a short-term arrangement.”
The two brothers kept talking and eating. Chris should have listened and gathered information, but his thoughts drifted away, the alcohol covering his brain like a tide. A small part of him still hoped to wake up in the safety of his bed, gasping with terror yet relieved to have escaped the nightmare.
Trevor got up and wiped his hands on a napkin. “Time for my dessert.”
“We have dessert?” Andy asked in excitement.
“I meant Danny’s butthole.”
“Oh.”
“But there’s some chocolate in the bags.”
“Yay!”
Trevor leaned down and spread Chris’s legs on the couch.
He knew he should let him have his way, but survival instincts kicked in, overpowering his common sense. “Don’t touch me!”
“Hey, don’t be shy. I’ve seen it all before.” He landed on top of Chris and lifted his bound hands behind his head. “You know I always make you enjoy it.” He leaned his head down and sucked on Chris’s right nipple, using a bit of teeth.
Chris half-growled, half-moaned.
“Don’t fight it.” Trevor moved to the left nipple, once again striking the right balance between pleasure and pain. He roamed over Chris’s skin with his hands, focusing on his most sensitive parts, like above his hip bones and below his armpits.
“There you go, baby.” He ran his tongue from Chris’s belly button to his neck. “I’ll never forget how to make you purr.” He reached for Chris’s cock, which was hardening against his will. A few firm strokes brought him to full erection.
“Good thing about cocks,” Trevor said, “is that they never lie.” He spat on his fingers and slowly ran them around Chris’s crown, causing him to twist and gasp on the couch.
“There you go, Danny. No more acting like you hate this. I know you too well.”
An unintentional sob snuck out of Chris. It felt as though no time had passed since his days with the Mitchells. Everything he’d fought so hard to achieve was falling apart like a house of cards.
Trevor shifted his waist, and with no warning, shoved his cock into Chris.
The pain pierced through his body. He screamed but couldn’t fight with his hands behind his head. At least the alcohol made the pain slightly duller.
Trevor’s skin felt hotter than the fireplace, his full weight pressing Chris hard against the couch.
“Did you miss this?” He licked across Chris’s chin. “Did you think of me every time you had sex?”
“I hate you!”
Trevor laughed and shoved himself deeper. “In goes the alcohol, out comes the truth.”
“I want you to suffer,” Chris muttered, losing control over his mouth. “I want to kill you.”
Trevor pumped harder. “Are you into necrophilia now? Does your sexy wife know?”
“Shut up!”
“Should I tell her how many men you spread your legs for?”
“Shut up shut up shut up shut—”
Trevor slapped him, then thrusted harder. “I’m close. I’m so fucking…” He bit down on Chris’s shoulder, quivering as he filled him with warm wetness.
In the background, Andy clapped.
Trevor chuckled and raised his head, his dark hair stuck to his forehead. “You never disappoint. Now rest.”
Like he’d been waiting for permission, Chris’s head slumped to the side, his consciousness floating away like smoke. He could just barely hear Trevor telling Andy, “Go get the basement ready.”