Chapter 7

"What happened?" Lane asked to agent Miller when he came back from outside. "Why did Peterson need backup?"

"Agent Peterson is dead..." the FBI agent announced like he was discussing weather.

"What! What happened? Where's my brother?" Neil asked, panicked. He was looking at Miller with pleading eyes, hoping he won't tell them the worst.

"Peterson had been shot in the head...and your brother is missing..." Miller said, not daring to look at Neil.

Neil's knees felt limp so he sat down on the floor, his head in his hands. Lane was leaning against the wall and she was crying. A few minutes later, Monte, Tommy, Cam and Isaac joined them; not knowing what was going on.

"Are we finishing the show? The fans are still waiting..." Tommy asked, glancing around to find Adam. When Tommy looked toward Neil and Lane, he noticed the tears and the worry in their faces. "Hey, what's going on?"

"Adam...Adam is gone..." Lane cried out between two sobs.

"What do you mean? Where did he go?" Monte asked, getting closer to Lane and taking her in his arms.

"They took him, Monte...oh my god, they took him..." she said, gripping tight on the guitarist's shirt.

"So, what are we doing now?" Cam asked while everyone was comforting each other. "We need to tell something to the audience..."

"Yea...in about 5 minutes there will be cops everywhere around," Steve announced coming from outside. "The fans will freak out!"

"Let me handle this," agent Miller began, taking his phone out of his jacket. "You stay all here, I'll be back in a few minutes," he added starting to walk toward the door to get outside. "But one of you need to go out there and announce that the show is finished," he demanded before disappearing outside.

"I'll do it..." Monte said, letting go of Lane and heading on stage.

The guitarist didn't explain anything, he simply announce that because of technical reasons, the show was finished. The crowd seemed to be very disappointed and worried. Miller gave orders to the security team to get people of the audience out without incident. But when the fans were getting out of the theater, they noticed a few police cars. There was also one FBI black van. The fans were worried, wondering what was happening and why the show had ended earlier than usual. They remembered the last time they saw the singer, he was acting weird; they were hoping that all that circus outside had nothing to do with him.


Adam was regaining consciousness slowly; he was feeling the movement of the vehicle, like he was sleeping in his bed in the bus. When he tried to move his hands, he found out they were trapped behind his back. Panicking, he opened his eyes. Even if his vision was fuzzy, he noticed quickly that he was not in the bus, but on a backseat of a vehicle. He tried to speak but he found out that he had tape on his mouth muffling his voice. He tried to sit up but he was too weak and was feeling too dizzy to do it. When he started to struggle, he saw the man on the passenger seat looking at him and grinning.

"It seems like our little friend in the back is awake..." the man said to the driver. "You didn't give him enough; he was supposed to be out for a few hours."

"Sorry, I never used that drug before; I didn't want to kill him," the driver said still keeping his eyes on the road.

"Don't worry, I'm gonna give him another shot," the other man announced taking his seatbelt off and getting in the back with the singer. "A bigger one this time..." he added taking a bottle and a syringe out of a bag.

Adam's eyes went wide opened. He tried to move to get away, but he couldn't go anywhere. He was screaming and begging to let him go, but all the sounds were muffled by the duct tape. He tried to kick with his legs, but the man sat on them, preventing any more movement. The man inserted the needle into the bottle, filled the syringe and put the bottle back in the bag.

"Stop fighting, rockstar, you're not gonna win that one," he said, laughing and holding onto Adam's neck with one of his hands. "By the way, I still want you to pay for what you did to my back," he added squeezing harder and making the singer whines from the sudden pain.

When the syringe was getting closer to his neck, Adam struggled but it hurt more than it helped. Defeated, he decided to stay still. He felt the pain when the needle entered his skin and the cold liquid injected into his neck. It didn't take more than 30 seconds before he felt the effects of the drug. His eyelids were heavy and he couldn't feel his body anymore. He passed out a few seconds later.


"I just called my parents..." Neil said getting inside the room where everyone of the crew was waiting. "My mom is freaking out...She'll be here tonight with my father," he added sitting on a chair.

It was about 5h00 in the morning and they were back at the hotel. No one was able to get any sleep, so they stayed up all night wondering if Adam was still alive, where he was and what those people wanted from him. The FBI crew got bigger. They occupied a conference room on the first floor. They worked on the lobby's tape. They couldn't see the face of the person who brought the envelope the day before. They tried to find out clues that may help them track down the kidnappers.

The agents explained to Adam's friends that even if they still don't know why he was kidnapped, they were sure he was still alive. They couldn't figure why someone would use all this energy to kidnap a person to just kill him or her. And because Adam was famous worldwide, he was worth more alive than dead.

"I can't believe this is really happening..." Tommy began, lying on his back on one of the beds and fixing his eyes the ceiling. "He was so fucking scared in the last days...And I kept assuring him that he was safe...Shit, I'm a big liar..." he added, cuddling against Cam.

"You're not a liar Tommy Joe, don't worry about that..." Neil said with an irritated voice. "I guess the security staff should feel bad about it..." he added, giving an angry look at Steve. "Steve, as Adam's body guard, what do you think about it?"

"What the fuck, Neil? You think it's my fault?" the body guard demanded getting up of the couch and standing up in front of Adam's brother. "We did everything we could do...the guys who took him knew what they were doing...they planed everything..."

"It seems like it wasn't enough," Neil snapped angrily.

"I'm sorry to disturb your important discussion, but we found something on the lobby's tape..." agent Miller said walking inside the room. "Does someone know this woman?" he added when he noticed everyone was listening.

He showed them a picture. The woman's face was not clear because it was the zoom in of a reflection in a mirror. Isaac was closer to the agent, so he took the picture and looked closer.

"Yea, I know her," he said handing the picture back to Miller. "It's Mary, the makeup artist."

"Why are you looking for her?" Lane asked, taking the picture from Miller's hand.

"She's the one who brought the envelope," the agent explained. "We think she's working with the guys who kidnapped Adam. Maybe she knows where he is. We need to talk to her. Does someone know where she is?"

"The last time I saw her was last morning," Monte said. "She didn't show up for the show last night, probably because Sutan was there to do the job."

After everyone had said everything they knew about Mary, agent Miller left the room. They were in shock; they couldn't believe she really helped them to get to Adam. She was a calm and quiet woman; always so gentle and always careful to do a good job. And Adam trusted her; how could she do that to him? How and why did she decide to do that? They had no idea.


Adam was slowly regaining consciousness again. He was feeling like he was lying on ice; he was freezing. When he opened his eyes he found himself lying on his stomach on a grey and cold cement floor. He looked around him; he was in small empty room without windows, lighted only by a faded light bulb hanging from the ceiling. When he tried to sit up, his head started spinning and he could feel his blood pulsing in his skull.

After he had enough strength to sit up, he started to feel dizzy. He tried to relax by breathing deeply, but it didn't work; he was really not feeling well. Now it was getting worst; he was feeling nauseous. He couldn't hold it anymore, so he bent over and vomited on the floor.

When he had nothing left in his stomach, he sat back and took a look at himself. He was barefoot, his black leather pants were torn at one his knees; there was dried blood on the fabric and a small wound on his skin. His shirt was also torn at the bottom. He didn't have any pieces of jewelry left except his black earspools and his earrings. He had another wound in his right palm and dried blood around his stitches. His wrists were sticky and the skin was red and sore; signs that he was tied up with duct tape for a long time.

He glanced at the door in front of him. Even if he knew it was probably locked, he wanted to take a look. So he stood up painfully with the help of the wall and walked slowly to the door. There was no knob and nothing else that he could use as a handle. He pushed on the door with all his strength left but nothing happened.

"HELP...SOMEBODY HELP ME!" he screamed as loud as possible. He put his ear on the door but he couldn't hear anything. Defeated he walked to the opposite corner and sat down on the cold floor, leaning his back against the wall.

He was feeling really weak and he was freezing. All his body was shaking and he wasn't able to stop it. He noticed that he really needed to go to the bathroom and he was wondering how long he would have to stay there before someone would come to see him. He didn't want to see the men who kidnapped him again but he couldn't image releasing his bladder in the room. He was so despondent, exhausted and scared. He laid down on the floor and curled up in a ball. When he closed his eyes, he could feel tears running down his cheeks.

He didn't know how long he slept, but he was woken up by a sound coming from the other side of the door. So he sat up quickly and rubbed his eyes. He could feel that he was still dizzy and his head was still pulsing. When the door opened, he saw the man who gave him the shot in the SUV. Panicked, he retreated in the corner, leaning his back against the walls. The man looked at him and grinned.

Behind the man, another one entered the room. Adam never saw him before. He was short, very slim and was wearing glasses. He was about 60 years old, with thin grey hair and a grey beard. He passed the well-built man and walked closer to Adam. He was not smiling like the other one; he was rather serious. Getting closer, he kept his eyes on the singer, studying him. Adam noticed that he had a bottle in his hand.

"Don't worry boy, I'm not going to hurt you," the older man said, kneeling in front of the singer. "Take that, it will help you feel better," he added, handing two white pills and the bottle of water.

Adam wasn't sure what to do. He didn't trust him but if he wanted to kill him, he would be already dead. So he took the pills in the man hand and swallowed them with a sip of water.

"Good boy," the man said, standing up and walking back to the door.

"Sir..." Adam said with caution not sure how the man would react. "Can I use the bathroom?" he asked, standing up. He blushed and felt so humiliated to have to almost beg to use the bathroom.

The man turned and looked at him. He was glancing at Adam's body. The thing Adam saw in his eyes scared him; it was a predatory look, leering at every inch of his body. Usually he was not ashamed or shy when someone was looking at him, but right now he just wanted to hide.

"Sure," the man said, smiling. "Come with me boy," he added, beckoning to Adam.

The singer hesitated a few seconds and finally walked toward the door. When he passed in front of the big man, he was shoved hard against the wall, a hand on his throat strangling him.

"You better play nice, rockstar," the man whispered to him. "Or I'll would have to break your beautiful neck!" he warned, squeezing harder.

"Patrick, let him go," the older man ordered, placing a hand on the big man's arm. "If he does something stupid, I'll take care of him myself."

Patrick let go of Adam but he gave him a warning look. The singer tried to breathe deeply, massaging his sore throat. When the big man moved away, Adam followed the older man to a bathroom.

"There...do what you have to do..." the man said leaning against the door's frame.

Adam was standing in front of the toilette but he wasn't moving. He couldn't do it with that guy looking at him.

"Nope, forget about it boy, I'm not going anywhere," the man began, like he had read Adam's thoughts. "If you need to piss, do it now or I'll bring you to your room and I'll have to punish you because you're wasting my time," he added, grinning.

Adam sighed and moved in a way that his back was facing the older man. When he started to empty his bladder, the man was laughing, sending shudders down Adam's spine. When he was done, he turned toward the sink to wash his hands and saw his refection in the small and dirty mirror. He looked like hell; his hair was a mess, his makeup had run down his cheeks, probably with the tears, he had dried blood just above his left eyebrow and his eyes were red.

Still under the glance of the man, he sprinkled some water on his face, trying to clean as much as possible. He got rid of the blood and a bit of the makeup.

"Don't worry boy, you're still pretty," the man said, laughing and grabbing Adam hard by the arm and leading him back in the small room. "I'm Victor by the way, but for you it's 'Sir'. I'm the owner of this place, so that means I'm the boss here," he added when they were back in the room. "You better behave and do what we are telling you to do or we'll have to punish you. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yea...I guess so..." Adam answered, weakly. He was caught unguarded by a strong slap on his face. He looked with terror at the older man's face without understanding what it was for.

"Each time you're talking to me, you have to say 'Sir' and you have to speak loud enough so I don't have to guess what you're saying," Victor warned angrily, pointing toward Adam with one hand.

"Sir...why am I here? What do you want from me?" Adam asked loud enough this time. He was slapped again but this time harder, so he almost lost his balance. The older was definitely stronger than he looked like.

"You speak only if someone asks you something," Victor hissed, irritated.

Because of the pain and the humiliation, tears were running down Adam's cheeks. The older man noticed them and gave the singer an evil grin. He walked closer to Adam who moved quickly back, panicked. When the young man was leaning against the wall, Victor got even closer, looking at the singer with satisfaction, with needs, with lust. Even if the older man wasn't touching him, Adam felt like he was pinned to the wall; he couldn't move away. He was so scared, he was shaking lightly.

"Mmmmm...better..." Victor whispered in Adam's ear, lightly brushing his body against the younger man's.

When Adam thought the man was going to touch him or something, Victor turned around and left the room, closing the door behind him without saying a word. In shock, Adam sat slowly on the floor, his knees to his chest. He wrapped his arms around his knees, leaned his head on them and cried.


Lane, Neil, Leila and Eber were having dinner in Lane's room. Adam's parents arrived about an hour ago. Neil had taken them to the FBI's conference room so they could understand better what happened and what was happening now. Even if they were worried and tired, Lane had convinced them to have dinner with her.

"God, I just hope he's ok..." Leila murmured taking the comforting hand of her younger son.

"Don't worry mom, I'm sure they are going to find him soon," Neil assured, smiling weakly at his mother. "You know that Adam can't go unnoticed..."

Leila smiled back lightly, cleaning the tears in her eyes with the napkins. Even if she wanted to think positively, she wasn't able to ignore the worst. It was the same thing for everyone in Adam's family and friends.

After a few minutes, there was a knock on the door. Lane stood up and opened up; it was agent Miller.

"We found the makeup artist this afternoon. I just came back from her interrogation," he said walking toward the table. "We know where they detained him," he added, sitting on a chair.

"Oh my god, where is he? Is he alright?" Leila asked, standing up and getting closer to the agent.

"We don't know how he is right now," Miller began. "They took him to a slave farm, about 8 hours from here," he added, looking worried.

"What is a slave farm?" Lane asked, noticing the agent's worried face.

"It's a place where usually young, kidnapped men or women are held to become slave for rich and powerful people," he explained.

"But slavery is illegal in America," Leila said, not really understanding what the FBI agent was saying.

"Yea, I know...but it didn't bother them to do that..." Miller explained. "Usually, the men who are taken are trained to become sex slaves and sold to powerful men coming from all around the world."

"Oh no..." Leila sighed, sitting on the couch. "They can't do that...no...They can't do that to Adam."

"He's famous worldwide, no one would want to buy him; it's too risky," Neil said, shaking his head and pacing the room.

"That's the problem..." the FBI agent began. "Maybe it's a special demand from someone in another country. Some rich men may be willing to pay a lot to have him for themselves. So now, we have to move quickly; because if someone buys him, he may disappear forever..." he added walking toward the door. "I have to go; I'll call you when we learn more."

With that sentence, agent Miller left the room and closed the door behind him. Everyone in the room was in shock. They couldn't believe what the agent had just said.


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