Chapter Fifteen
T revor no longer felt his hands or feet.
Ice filled his veins, and shivers racked his body.
He’d been left alone for who knows how long.
Time was irrelevant. All he thought about was getting the hell out of there.
He focused on his memories of Niall and Matt.
How it felt to lie on the couch with his head in their laps watching a movie, the warmth of sleeping between them.
Little touches in the night as the three of them each reaffirmed to their subconscious that their partners were still with them.
He remembered how it felt to be held between them, how Matt’s weight pressed him into the bed so perfectly, how Niall’s graceful hands caressed every inch of Trevor’s body with reverence.
Thought of the photos Niall had taken, proof of their love for one another.
He wanted to go home. And it was up to him to get there.
Trevor pulled energy from deep within his body.
He twisted the tape on his wrists. Over and over.
It stretched a fraction. Not enough to get out, but enough to give Trevor hope.
With renewed vigor, Trevor worked the binding.
His skin was raw from the adhesive, on fire from whatever reaction Trevor had to the chemicals.
He pushed the discomfort to the back of his brain and continued to twist and turn.
An explosive crack filled the space, and the sound of footsteps came toward him.
“Good morning, pet. Did you have a peaceful night? I hope the rats didn’t nibble on your toes too badly.
I’d hate to see your perfect skin marred by their sharp little teeth, disease-filled vermin.
They’re predicting snow today. I’d take you to the park, but I think the other pet owners would become jealous and try to steal you away from me. ”
Warm fingers touched Trevor’s cheek. The heat on his icy skin was painful.
“You have a nasty bruise here. Maybe that will remind you to obey your master. No more whoring, right?”
Trevor shook his head. Whatever the guy wanted. Whatever he said, it didn’t matter. Getting home was all that mattered.
“Good boy. I think a little more time in your kennel, then we’ll be able to restart your obedience classes.”
Lips landed on Trevor’s forehead, and he tried not to jerk away from the touch. Don’t antagonize , don’t be combative, survive, escape. That was his mantra.
“Now, do you need to relieve yourself?”
Trevor shook his head. He absolutely was not letting this guy anywhere near his dick. He’d piss himself before letting that happen.
“Come now, pet. You’ve been down here a long time. One must take care of their body's functions.
That hand slid down Trevor’s chest, heading for his waist. Trevor screamed behind the tape.
He bucked and pushed against the floor with his feet.
A heavy body landed on top of him, thick legs straddled either side of Trevor’s hips, and arms with the strength of a boa constrictor squeezed around Trevor’s chest. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t breathe.
“That was uncalled for. It’s not like I haven’t seen your cock, lover. There’s no need for modesty.”
Trevor gagged as he felt the man’s erection press against his stomach. The sick fuck was getting off on this! Why that shocked Trevor he wasn’t sure, but it did all the same.
“Now let’s try this again. Do you need to relieve yourself?”
Trevor refused to move a muscle. He finally got a decent breath when his captor climbed off his lap. He savored the feel of his lungs expanding; even the mildew-scented air didn’t bother him.
“You want to be stubborn? Fine. I was trying to be considerate, but now you can suffer. You will not piss yourself, otherwise this will seem as if it were just a love tap.”
A set of knuckles landed in Trevor’s gut. The force behind the punch sent a concussion wave throughout his body. His throat burned with the sound of pain exploding from his chest.
“I’m leaving for now. Don’t worry. I won’t be far away, but apparently you’re not as ready as I thought. Some more time alone is in order before we begin your training. This time however…”
Trevor was trying to catch his breath and therefore not prepared when his captor shoved something in his ears, cutting off all sound. A whimper echoed inside Trevor’s head. Only his sense of smell fed him input, isolating him.
His heart raced, his breathing turned choppy, and despite being colder than anything he’d ever experienced, Trevor began to sweat.
He eventually got himself under control. The panic attack faded as he forced air in and out slowly. He pictured Matt and Niall. Their voices coached Trevor until his pulse rate slowed to a moderate level. Right, time to get the fuck out of here.
“So the uniforms said two of our three suspects have airtight alibis. We haven’t tracked down the third. We’ve tried both his last known address and the employer listed on his last tax return,” Clay said.
Niall paced around his living room in circles. They’d moved the gathering across the channel because there was more space than at Matt’s.
“What about known associates?” Ethan asked.
“His employer said the guy always keeps to himself. He’s due to arrive for a shift at the restaurant tonight. We’ll obviously be on the premises to speak with him, assuming he shows up.”
Ryan heaved out a breath. “We’re closing in on thirty hours.”
“I know,” Clay said solemnly.
“No!” Niall exclaimed. “I will not have you giving up hope. Forget that twenty-four hour statistic. We will find him. We will bring him home! We have to,” he finished softly.
Niall was gathered into Matt’s arms, and a pair of hands rested on his shoulders from behind him.
“We 'ill fend 'imself. 'As anyone been ter 'is apartment lately? Maybe there is sum kind av clue there,” Conor asked.
Niall looked at Matt, Matt stared back. Niall turned to see Logan’s head shaking back and forth.
“Fine. Two of you go check that out. The rest will stay here.”
“I have a key. I’ll go,” Logan said.
Niall and Matt had keys as well, but he could tell Logan needed to do something productive. He nodded, then leaned up to kiss Matt. “Let me?”
Matt’s hands clasped the sides of Niall’s face and pulled him in for a deeper kiss. Their tongues dueled fiercely, and Niall clung to Matt’s sweatshirt.
“You be safe, you hear me? You come back to me,” Matt ordered.
“I will, I promise.”
Logan unlocked Trevor’s front door. When they entered, they froze where they stood.
Someone had trashed the entire place. Couch ripped to shreds, curtains in rags hanging from bent rods above the windows.
Trevor’s movies scattered to the four corners of the room, many snapped in half, and his prize television had what looked like bullet holes in the screen.
Logan pointed at the TV. “Oh, he’s gonna be pissed about that one. ”
“Yeah.”
Niall couldn’t tear his eyes away from the spidery round holes.
If they were bullet holes, then that meant whoever had Trevor was not only armed, but unafraid to use the weapon.
Why hadn’t anyone in the building reported the shots?
Why hadn’t the police’s fancy bullet tracker system picked up the report?
“Shall we continue the tour?”
They walked back toward Trevor’s bedroom. As his feet crunched on the floor, Niall peered into the bathroom to see that someone had shattered the mirror and had spilled every household item Trevor kept under the sink all over the floor, shower stall, and sink.
Logan shook his head. “Now that seems a tad juvenile.”
They kept walking back to Trevor’s bedroom, and Niall saw that Trevor’s mattress had received the same treatment as the couch.
Trevor’s clothes were torn to shreds and strewn all over the room.
Niall even spied the pair of Armani jeans and shirt he’d gotten from that photo shoot back in the fall in pieces.
He walked closer to the mattress. He knew Trevor kept his keepsakes in a box beneath the bed, so he bent down to see if it was still there.
Niall peered beneath the bed, found Trevor’s box and flipped open the lid.
“Wait! We shouldn’t touch anything. We’ve got to call this in, and if we get our prints all over everything, it’ll contaminate the evidence.”
Niall held the box in his hand. Something in his gut told him that there was something important inside. It was already compromised. To hell with the cops, he was keeping this.
“Fine. Call it in, but I’m still looking inside the box. I’ll tell them I touched it before we realized it wasn’t a good idea.”
Niall walked back toward the bathroom. He knew Trevor kept a box of rubber gloves in there for cleaning.
He snapped on a pair and carried the box out to Trevor’s tiny kitchenette.
Trevor’s few dishes now lay all over the floor in a colorful mosaic.
The intruder hadn’t destroyed the frosted glass doors to the cabinets themselves.
Curious, since he’d had no compunction about shattering the bathroom mirror.
He sifted through old concert tickets and a faded photo of Trevor as a little boy.
He sat between two adults who Niall assumed were Trevor’s parents.
There was an open condom wrapper, and Niall chuckled, souvenir from Trevor’s lost virginity, maybe?
Niall’s fingers caressed a photo of him, Matt, and Trevor from New Year’s Eve.
Trevor’s bright blue eyes shone with happiness.
The three of them wore silly hats and were blowing some of those shiny fringe noisemakers out at the camera.
At the very bottom was a newspaper clipping.
It had aged and yellowed, but was still in one piece.