The next morning, things resumed as they had the last few days. Chris came back with three men. Ripped the door open. Tore them apart, away from each other.
Gareth dug his heels into the ground the moment Chris started heading for him. He slightly turned away from him in an attempt to shield his left arm, sinking further into Mary's embrace.
"No—you leave him be!" Mary hugged him tightly to her chest.
Chris grabbed Gareth by a handful of his hair just as Alex tried to pull Chris off of him, already on his feet. Another man pulled Alex away just as quick though, and Gareth had turned enough to where it left his injured arm vulnerable. Chris released his hair as a searing pain jolted through his arm, the grip having been replaced as soon as the opportunity presented itself.
Gareth couldn't help but scream in pain, being dragged to his feet and wrestling to get free. It was a feeble attempt much like all the others though, and in the struggle, Chris had tossed the makeshift splint to the ground. Alex and Mary were yelling broken threats that only landed upon deaf ears, restrained.
Chris threw Gareth at the wall and he swore he never cursed his reflexes so much in his entire damned life. Gareth immediately pulled his left arm back against his chest as if the wall was on fire, biting back from screaming again. When Chris applied his weight against Gareth's back, Gareth tried his best to balance himself, keeping from smashing his arm with his right hand planted firmly on the wall in front of him.
Hands traveled up Gareth's shirt, gripping his hips. Pulled him back and pushed him forward again causing Gareth to tremble. His mind was still trapped on the pain radiating from his arm that he almost didn't register Chris reaching around him, groping him and tugging at his belt.
Gareth's face flushed as he quickly grabbed at Chris' hand as if to stop him, rotating enough so that his right shoulder hit the wall with all of Chris' weight still against his back. The smallest "stop" escaped his lips before he could even process the word. He made the mistake of glancing over towards Mary and Alex, quickly averting his stare to the wall then to the ground before closing his eyes. He couldn't do this. Not here. Couldn't put that guilt on them. There wasn't anything they could do.
"What's the matter? Don't want an audience?" Hot breath was on the back of his neck. "I thought the deal was as long as I didn't lay a finger on them, I could do whatever I wanted. Wasn't that it?"
He could feel Chris work more forcefully to get at his belt but Gareth tightened his grip on his hand, trying with all his might to pull him away.
Until Chris let go all together. He suddenly tangled his hand in his hair again before slamming Gareth's head into the wall. Grabbed Gareth by his shoulder and abruptly turned him around, hand pressed against his chest and pinning him back to the wall.
Gareth felt disoriented, unable to do much of anything until his line of sight came back into focus. About the same time Chris pulled his knife from his belt, Alex and Mary screaming.
Chris started working Gareth's shirt undone, pulling at the buttons. When Gareth tried to stop him, Chris only raised the knife to his throat. Didn't say a word. But if looks could kill, Gareth would have already been dead.
Chris lowered the blade once Gareth placed his arm back down at his side. Slapped his free hand over Gareth's mouth as he pushed his shirt back with the knife, exposing his right shoulder.
Grinned as he gently ran the cold blade over his skin.
Gareth's hand quickly shot up to grab Chris by his wrist again, panicked. He wasn't going to kill him, that much was evident. He would have done it by now otherwise. How far he would go was the question.
The tip of the blade rested lazily just under his collarbone.
"Of all your people here, you've won me over."
There was a little more pressure applied behind the knife.
"You've become my bitch. And I think it's only fair we make sure everyone knows that."
Gareth's scream was muffled from Chris' hand as the knife punctured his skin. Without even thinking, he tried pushing Chris back with both arms, desperate. Tried to grasp the knife. Anything to stop him. But Chris just fought it. Pressed the knife harder into his flesh as he drug the blade down, blood oozing.
He felt lightheaded at the thought of his blood pooling under the knife. Could see it from the corner of his eye. It was like all of his senses were heightened too, because he could smell it—almost taste it. Heart hammering away in his chest.
It felt like hours before Chris took the blade back, along with his hand. Wiped the side of the knife across Gareth's cheek and bottom lip, smearing the blood.
Chris pet the top of his head while slightly ruffling his hair. "That wasn't so bad now, was it?"
Gareth kept his back glued to the wall with his arms at his sides. His left arm was throbbing something fierce, but the pain in his cut up shoulder was escalating. He could feel the warm liquid saturating his shirt and trailing down his chest. He didn't even want to risk moving, fearful that it would just cause even more pain. He wasn't sure if that was possible.
Chris pulled his men off the railcar with him and they left shortly after. It was only then that Gareth summoned some strength to lift his arm and pull his shirt back enough to look at the damage done. It appeared to be a rough looking letter C carved into him. Deep. And he knew it was going to leave one hell of a scar, if and when it would ever heal.
Alex and Mary were standing in front of him, Alex holding the shirt they had previously used for his arm. They were at a loss. It was clearly written on their faces, not sure what they could do to help when they had nothing.
Alex wiped the blood off Gareth's face the best he could before glancing over at his shoulder. Gareth bit at the inside of his lip and vaguely nodded, giving his brother the okay to apply pressure to the wound. After all, it was the only thing they really could do at that point.
Try to lessen the bleeding.
There never seemed to be an opportunity. To fight back. To escape. It was just the same thing on repeat for days. Twenty-four days of nonstop torture. Gareth fought with what strength he had left to make sure anything Chris and his goons had to do, they did it to him. The pain and humiliation, the nightmares… they would forever be scarred into his memory and skin.
Like the newly acquired scars on his wrists and arms from being bound numerous times. Or Chris' knife work on his shoulder that was irritated and swollen with the deep cuts and unavailable treatment.
Having to eat what was given to them, or starve. Because they couldn't just keep ignoring it. And Chris being sure to always fill them in on who it was, just to make matters worse.
Being thrown over that steel table and taken advantage of until he blacked out from the pain.
Suffocated to the brink of passing out just to see how long he could hold his breath. Revisiting the trough full of water like it was nothing but pure entertainment, watching him practically drown as they held him under longer and longer, making bets.
The laughs.
Nightmares keeping him from gaining any real sleep.
He couldn't always fight it though, eyes burning and head bobbing until he gave in.
Only this time he awoke due to physical pain startling him. Chris' booted foot colliding with his infected shoulder, eliciting a gasp out of him as he shot forward, awake.
"...alone. Please. Even if it's just for today."
Gareth caught half of what his mom was saying. But it was all he needed to know that she was trying to talk Chris out of it. She was trying to negotiate.
"You comin' in his place then? Or Alex?"
Alex scrambled to his feet in an instant. Without question or hesitation.
"No..." Gareth pushed himself to stand. Mary followed his lead, half making sure he didn't collapse, half putting herself between him and Chris.
Chris laughed. "I'd take all of ya with me. But seeing as Gareth still has it in him, and I'm a man of my word..."
One of Chris' men had tried to harass them without Chris' consent previously. He'd come in at least once every other day. Groped Mary, attacked Alex. Threatened Gareth that if he intervened, he'd break one of Alex's bones for every time he would even try, starting with his fingers. Stupidly enough, Gareth tried to stop him, which resulted in Alex having his right index finger dislocated. It left Gareth with no choice but to sit there and endure it, Alex's pained cry stuck in the back of his mind.
Those visits lasted about a week before Chris caught wind of it and just slaughtered the man without batting an eye.
"Gareth, stop. You don't have to keep doing this," Alex pleaded.
Chris exited the railcar. Stood outside leaning against the door, waiting. He had never done that previously. Never allowed Gareth to just willingly follow. He was always drug out by his arm or his hair.
Gareth had been so mesmerized by Chris' actions, lost in thought trying to figure out what it meant, that he didn't realize his mom had gotten closer to him. She carefully wrapped her arms around him in an embrace. And all he could do was blink.
He didn't know how to reciprocate the action anymore. Didn't see any point in it. He just hurt. And all he wanted was to sleep and be left alone.
He was just broken.
Mary held his face, stealing his attention. She looked stressed. Sad. "You don't have to do this for us."
Gareth gently brushed her away, shaking his head. He knew in that moment that this was it. This was the chance he had been waiting for. To gain Chris' trust. At least enough so that he didn't always have a pair of hands on him.
And just the thought had him feeling slightly invigorated. He'd get them out of this, or die trying.