From the relative safety of the car, Jennifer anxiously watched the front door of the mansion for any sign of Carl or Brian; she was hoping that any second now, they would be coming out of the house to report that they knew where Justin was and they were going to go get him. She knew, however, that she was probably kidding herself; this man had relentlessly pursued her son from the moment he had first seen him, and apparently hadn't stopped even while he was incarcerated; this plan of his had obviously been well-thought out beforehand. Now, though, his plans had been interrupted and he had been forced to take her son away once more to some place they didn't know about. How would they find Justin now?
She closed her eyes in anguish, the tears threatening to overcome her; all sorts of horrible images filled her mind about what her son was enduring presently. Where could Justin be? And even more so, what was Prescott doing to him at the moment? Was he all right? Was he scared? She prayed that he would be able to stay strong, confident in the knowledge that so many people loved him, especially Brian. She knew how strong her son was – he had endured so much in his relatively young life and had always managed to persevere somehow. But this – this was almost too much for ANYONE to bear. Hang on, sweetheart…..hang on. Remember how much we love you, how much BRIAN loves you…
Brian. As worried as she was about Justin, Brian had to be downright frantic with concern. Since Prescott had started his campaign to snatch Justin out from under him so long ago, she and Brian had become co-conspirators in their attempt to help Justin realize who truly loved him. She had never doubted for a second how deeply Brian loved her son, and this last year had only reinforced that belief. Justin had been so happy as a newlywed in his new home he shared with Brian – so very happy. And now this…God, it was just too much.
Her breath caught in her throat as she finally detected the front door opening and she saw the two coming out, silhouetted against the light pouring from the interior of the house. She bit her lip, barely able to remain in the car, as they slowly walked over toward the vehicle. Her hope of hearing good news, though, was quickly shattered as she was able to quickly ascertain Brian's demeanor; the stooped shoulders and devastated look on his face told her all she needed to know. "Brian?" she whispered, as he opened the passenger door and climbed in next to her. Carl opened the driver's side door and gently closed it after him, choosing to remain silent while Brian told Jennifer what they had found out. He had advised Brian that he would trust his judgement as to how much to tell her at the moment.
Brian let out a sigh as he reached to take his mother-in-law's slender hand in his own; he swallowed the lump in his throat at he peered into her worried eyes; they were so reflective of his own torment at the moment and painfully reminded him of another pair of blue eyes that he desperately wanted – and needed – to see. "Jennifer," he whispered in a choked voice, "He was definitely in the house."
Jennifer bit her lip as she gazed at her son-in-law. He appeared almost hesitant, even afraid. What was Brian NOT telling her? "How do you know?"
Brian exchanged a look with Carl in the front seat before he released her hand to reach in his pocket and draw out the narrow band of platinum; the adornment reflected off the lights shining through the windows of the house as he held it up to her. "They found this," he said softly, clearing his throat before he continued. "They found it on the floor downstairs."
Jennifer instantly knew it had to be her son's; she also knew that there was no way he would have removed it willingly. "On the floor?"
Brian nodded, too upset to try and answer aloud for several seconds. He swallowed again before responding, "Yeah. I know….he would have never taken it off unless…."
"Unless he was forced to," she answered for him as Brian nodded again. The two of them stared at the ring and the ramifications of what it meant, before Brian gently took the piece of jewelry and placed it on his left pinkie finger for safekeeping, right next to his own wedding ring. Somehow simply having Justin's ring on his own hand helped, at least somewhat, to give him hope that soon, very soon, he would be placing it once more on his husband's finger again where it belonged. God, Justin…..where ARE you? I NEED you….I LOVE you…..
He took a deep breath, forcing himself to return to the present. "They also found this," Brian told her, pulling his sleeve back to reveal the bracelet Justin had purchased for him a year ago on their honeymoon, now encirclin his wrist once more. He shook his head, disgusted and ashamed that he had somehow forgotten about it in the events that had happened over the past few hours. "They found this upstairs in one of the bedrooms. I'm sure it's the same room that fucker held me in while he waited for Justin to show up." He felt anger welling up inside of him, not only because of what Prescott had done but because he had used his own cell phone, as well as Justin's love for him, to lure him here…..
He gasped as a sudden revelation hit him full force and he gripped Jennifer's arm almost painfully. "Carl! My God!"
Carl turned back around in his seat to look at him with concern as Jennifer's eyes widened in alarm. "What?" he asked urgently.
"My cell phone! Prescott HAS to have it with HIM‼ Can't you figure out where he is by locating a nearby cell tower?" His heart leapt at the thought that perhaps – just perhaps – there WAS a way to find Justin…..
Carl's eyes narrowed in concentration. "Are you sure he has it?"
"Of course I'm sure‼" Brian snarled, his voice rising in impatience; the longer they waited to find his phone, the better chance Prescott had to either get farther away from them or hurt Justin more. "He CALLED Justin with it to tell him to meet me here! They didn't find it in the house, did they? He HAS to still have it!"
Carl considered that possibility. "Well, if he STILL has it with him – if he's been stupid enough to KEEP it somehow – yeah, it might be possible. Depends on whether he has it on and how it's configurated."
"Well, FIND OUT!" Brian demanded as Jennifer looked at him, daring to hope that perhaps Brian had figured out a way to find her son. "We're wasting fucking TIME! He could be doing God knows WHAT to him!" He didn't even want to think about that – he already knew what the man had done to Justin and the thought of him continuing to assault his husband against his will filled him with an intense fury – as well as pain – that he didn't even realize he could feel until now. From the moment the man had taken Justin, he had decided he didn't care what happened to his own life afterward – that was inconsequential now. Prescott was a DEAD man, no matter whether he was eventually apprehended alive or not.
Jennifer's heart began to pound with the possibility that maybe, just maybe Justin could be located after all. "Carl? Please…it might be our only chance to find him."
Carl nodded. "Okay…..I'll need your cell phone number, the type of phone you use, and which carrier." As Brian hurriedly gave him the information and he quickly jotted it down on a small notepad, he promptly flipped open his phone to call the precinct to set the process in motion.
As Carl relayed the needed information, Jennifer turned to her son-in-law and placed her other hand on his shoulder; neither was sure who was comforting whom at that moment; it was probably a case of both. "You really think this'll work?" she asked him.
"I don't know," Brian answered her honestly. "But it's all we've got right now."
"What about roadblocks?" Jennifer asked him. "They had to have left here in some type of vehicle. Are they searching every vehicle that tries to leave this area?"
"They're trying," Carl answered her as he closed his cell phone and turned to face them. "As soon as you figured out which house it was, I called the local PD here and requested they immediately set up a search grid to check out any vehicles coming in or leaving the area," he confirmed. "But you have to remember – Prescott still had a small window of opportunity to leave before his whereabouts were determined." His expression softened sympathetically as he admitted, "If they're haven't been found by now, chances are it means he was able to slip through the police dragnet before they were discovered."
Brian shook his head in anger and frustration. "Fuck!"
"I'm sorry," Carl told them sincerely. "But I rather be straight up with you than give you false hope."
"What about the cell phone?" Jennifer asked him hopefully as Brian looked at him with the same type of desperate expression.
"Well, the boys are working on it right now." As he watched Brian about to issue a protest, he added firmly, "We can't just immediately obtain the information from your telephone carrier without a court order, Brian, no matter how critical the situation is. That being said, however," he hastened to add as he noticed Brian about to explode, "That doesn't mean we can't speed it up because of the circumstances. I've put in an emergency request with the court to get the order issued ASAP. I also made a quick call to Greg back at the house - he has some connections and might be able to help accelerate the process for us."
Brian huffed in impatience. Don't they fucking understand what's at STAKE here? He sighed in annoyance and worry. "How long will THAT take? Justin's LIFE is on the line here, Carl‼"
"Son, don't you think I realize that? Debbie's going to rake me over the coals for not finding that young man and I care about him, too. There's just no other way to speed it up anymore than what I'm already doing," he told the other two. "I'm sorry – my hands are fucking tied, too…."
Jennifer reached out a hand and placed it on Brian's cheek in an attempt to sooth him. "Brian….Honey, you know Carl's doing everything he can. He cares about Justin, too – you know that."
Brian let out an audible sigh, running one hand through his hair in frustration and pain. "I…..I know," he admitted. "It's just…God, Jennifer! If he fucking hurts him….." He didn't have the heart to tell her that he knew Justin had already been hurt and would most likely be hurt again, over and over….. The idea of what his husband, the man he loved, was going through right now was excruciating, but he couldn't bring himself to let her know this, and he knew Carl would keep his confidence for as long as he thought it was the right thing to do. Telling Jennifer about what the police had found upstairs would only deepen her agony and not change what had already happened.
"I know, Honey, I know," she murmured to him, leaning over to place her forehead against his. "We have to stay strong for him, though…..he'll get through this, just like he has before – we ALL will – how, I don't know. But I have to believe that, and so do you; it's the only way I can deal with this." Brian could hear a ragged sigh escape her lips before she pulled back from him and gave his arm one quick squeeze before releasing it. Taking a deep breath and exhaling it, she turned to Carl to ask, "What's our next step, then?"
Carl twisted his mouth in reluctance. "Honestly? As much as I hate to say it, until we get the court order all we can do is wait."
"WAIT?" Brian snapped. "Are you shitting me? Carl – I can't just fucking WAIT for a MAYBE‼"
"What choice IS there, Brian?" Carl countered. "The house here has been searched thoroughly and fingerprinted, and the lab is checking out the evidence that was collected. They've got the roadblocks still up and there's been an APB issued for all the area airports in case he tries to take Justin on a plane somehow. And Prescott's goons that were rounded up are being questioned. But unless they spot his vehicle - and we don't even know what the hell it even looks like – or until they get the results back and we get the official okay to try and locate a cell tower near your phone – IF he's still even using it, that is – there's nothing more we can DO, Brian. I'm sorry, but that's just the way it is. I suggest we go back to the house and wait until we hear something further."
Brian shook his head, incredulous. "Go back to the house? But Justin is HERE, not in Pittsburgh‼ Uh, uh…..I'm staying right HERE, Carl!"
"Brian…..Son – we have NO way of knowing where Justin or Prescott IS right now‼ They could be anywhere by now, don't you see? It isn't going to matter if we stay here OR at the house – until we know something, until we know where he took him, we can't act on it."
"How long, Carl? Huh? How fucking long before we DO know something?" Brian couldn't believe this – he couldn't just sit on his hands and wait for a glimmer of hope while that monster was doing who-knows-what to Justin. "I'm hoping we'll have something by first light," Carl told them as Brian gasped in disgust. "I'm sorry, Brian – but that's the best I can do."
Brian sighed loudly. He couldn't accept that; there must be something else they could do…..but what? He furiously wracked his brain for an idea – anything — that might help them locate his husband. Time was running out – somehow he just knew it, and it filled him with terror.
He still thought his cell phone might be the solution somehow, but Carl said it would take several hours at the very least before they could obtain permission to search for its signal. That didn't mean, however, that maybe it couldn't be used in some other way…..
"Carl, I've got an idea," Brian said suddenly, his eyes widening in revelation.
Near the Alleghany National Forest – North of Pittsburgh
Justin tried feverishly not to close his eyes in exhaustion as he leaned back in the passenger seat; he was so wary of what Lane was planning for them next as they drove on in silence, the tenseness so thick it could almost be cut with a knife. But he was so tired – so very tired – having not slept for several hours; and his heart was heavy with worry over Brian. Brian…..Was he all right? Was he even ALIVE? Where WAS he? Was he worried about him, too? He didn't even have to ask himself that question – he knew Brian would be out of his mind with worry right now, just like he was about HIM.
If Lane hadn't continued to threaten him with thoughts of harming his husband, Justin would have tried to escape long ago. But he just couldn't take that chance. He knew that one more little flicker of disobedience toward this man and he wouldn't hesitate to give the order to kill the man he loved. He knew that next to owning him body and soul, killing his husband would give Lane the next greatest amount of pleasure. Well, Lane could continue to force himself on him – take sadistic pleasure in possessing his body against his will – but the man would never own his soul – or his heart. That belonged to only one man and always would.
"How much longer, Lane?" he asked softly. "Where exactly are we going?" he ventured to query, afraid to make his tormentor mad but too anxious and curious not to risk asking.
His heart sank as he watched the other man actually smile, seemingly in triumph or even delight. "Some place where they won't think to look for us, Angel," Prescott responded enigmatically. He looked over at Justin briefly, causing the blond's blood to run cold by the almost inhuman look on the other man's face. "Then it'll be just you and me…forever."
Justin heart pounded in fear at that ominous statement, but he finally closed his eyes and let exhaustion overtake him at last – he decided that despite his uneasiness, at least it would spare him from having to look over at the man he couldn't stand any longer and he was just too fucking tired to hold his eyes open any longer. Where had the caring, gentle man gone that he had first met so long ago at that restaurant? The man that had actually impressed him with his tenderness, his patience, his kindness? Where ever he had gone, it was obvious that he would never be coming back; in his place was this callous, unfeeling man instead, a man who was only interested in satisfying his own needs.
At that moment, Justin realized the only possible way he could ever escape this man was to play along with him, pretend that he actually liked being with him, that he was happy with being his prisoner. It would be the hardest fucking thing he had ever done, but for his sake – and Brian's – he had to try. Until he could somehow gain this man's trust, he knew he would never let him out of his sight. How he would be able to stomach doing that, however, was almost impossible to tell. For now, however, his weariness overtook him as finally, his eyes closed, he fell into a fitful slumber as they drove on into the inky darkness.
Thirty Minutes Later
Justin's eyes fluttered open in disorientation as he felt the car slow down and stop. As the motor was turned off, he couldn't help yawning before turning to glance over at Prescott, who was staring back at him intently, his face eerily reflected in the green lights of the dashboard.
The older man smiled in satisfaction as he informed Justin, "We're here, Angel."
Justin frowned as he tried to look around and catch his bearings. He was dismayed at how black it was; with the car's headlights turned off and no discernible lights anywhere nearby, he couldn't see anything outside of the car. "Where ARE we, Lane?" he asked curiously, his heart filling with dread over this seemingly secluded location. How in the world would Brian or anyone else find them HERE? Were they even still in Pennsylvania?
"Just a cozy little temporary hideaway," he mysteriously advised his companion. "Stay there," he ordered the blond, as he turned to open the car door.
Justin very briefly considering flinging the car door open and making a run for it. But even if he wanted to open the door and escape, Justin knew he would have no idea where he was – he couldn't see anything outside the car and if he tried to run, he figured he would only wind up hopelessly lost. Where could they BE? As much as he hated it, he forced himself to stay where he was and comply until he could get his bearings a little more accurately.
He nervously waited, then, for Lane to walk around the car and open the door. He didn't have long to wait, as Lane eagerly walked around the car and opened the passenger door. "Time to get out, Angel," he instructed the other man as he extended his hand toward him in invitation.
Justin didn't dare refuse this man; he had already seen glimpses of the temper he had and he couldn't take the chance of igniting it even further. He swallowed the bile that rose into his throat as he unbuckled his seatbelt and reached out to take the man's proffered hand to allow himself to be pulled from the car.
Justin closed his eyes in repulsion as Lane immediately took his hand in his and then wrapped his arm around his waist firmly before pushing him toward a shadowy shape of what appeared to be some sort of cabin nearby. They stopped at what must have been the door, as Lane let go of his waist to reach inside his pocket. He could hear Prescott jiggling what sounded like keys as he pressed a button on a miniature, flat-shaped flashlight and used the narrow-band of illumination to locate the proper key to the cabin door and fit it into the slot. Unlocking the single, rustic, wooden entrance, he turned the knob and pushed it open. "After you, Angel," Lane murmured, watching Justin intently as he noticed the younger man hesitating to enter. "Don't even think about it, Justin," he answered curtly as if reading his mind. "Trust me – if you try and run away, you'll suffer the consequences. Your precious Brian's blood will be on YOUR hands then."
Justin shuddered at the evil spewing from this man's vitriolic voice; his tone was steely and hard as he assured Justin of just what would happen if he tried to leave him. At least now he knew that apparently Brian was still alive, and that warmed his chilled heart just a little at the thought. Brian…..help me, he silently pleaded as he slowly walked ahead of Lane into the dark space. Help show me what to do…..
The flashlight in Lane's hand danced in flickering patterns across the rather confining space as Justin looked around the room. He could see just enough to ascertain that they were in some sort of rustic, one-room cabin as he stood there, unsure what to do. He watched as Lane crossed over to a Formica-topped table and picked up what appeared to be matches. He heard the telltale whoosh of a match lighting before he noticed Lane pick up the top of a kerosene lamp and press the match to the wick to light it. The room was instantly dressed in the soft, amber glow from the lamp as Prescott replaced the hurricane glass over the wick and turned around to face Justin.
"What do you think, Angel?" Prescott asked, smiling as if they were standing inside a $700 a night room at a swanky hotel. "Cozy, isn't it? And oh so secluded," he added huskily, slowing beginning to advance toward Justin.
Justin shuddered at the other man's lust-filled voice as the man came closer. He couldn't believe that after everything they had been through in the last few hours that this man was again approaching him for sex.
Before Lane could get close enough to touch him, though, he had to try somehow to reason with him, if that was still possible. He put his hand up in supplication. "Lane…..Please…..it's been a long day, and I'm so tired. I need some sleep. Please." To his utter astonishment and relief, the man stopped a few feet away from him to study his face, apparently trying to determine if Justin was being truthful or merely trying to avoid him.
Prescott did notice that his Angel's face was drawn and his eyes did not have their tell-tale sparkle to them; the slender body, as well, was hunched over as if in exhaustion. Perhaps Justin, then, was truly tired. He did not want his lover becoming sick or too weak from sleep deprivation or from lack of food. Besides, now that they were firmly hidden away in one of the most primitive areas of the national park, he was confident that they had plenty of time to rediscover each other. He was certainly looking forward to that, especially after getting his first taste earlier that evening.
His expectations as to what it would be like to finally make love with his Angel had been nothing compared to the actual event. Just the thought of possessing this man for the rest of his life made his entire body tingle and his heartbeat to quicken, but he knew he had to be considerate of Justin's physical needs as well. And for now, sleep would have to take primary importance over his own desires. He nodded at the other man. "Of course, Angel, I understand; you DO look tired. We have the rest of our lives now. Let's get some rest."
Justin swallowed a lump in his throat; he was relieved that Prescott was apparently going to agree to allow him to get some sleep, but he was also dreading that fact that the man would no doubt be sleeping in the same bed with him. As he looked around the room, he only saw one other door that apparently led to some sort of bathroom; the single, double-sized bed he observed lying in a corner of the room was apparently the only bed. He knew the man would never agree to let him sleep on the couch located over on the far wall – it appeared to be made out of some sort of uncomfortable, brown corduroy fabric, but to Justin it would have been his sanctuary from this relentless pursuer who wouldn't leave him alone. He had to try, though. "Lane…..you take the bed – I can sleep on the couch." But his hopes were dashed when the man quickly insisted, "No, Angel….there's plenty of room for both of us…..in the bed. Take off your clothes."
Justin closed his eyes in reprehension. He couldn't do this again – not tonight. He never wanted this man to fuck him ever again – but realistically he knew that wasn't going to happen. This man was relentless and seemed to have a sickness to possess him. Somehow Justin knew his nightmare may be just beginning….But he just couldn't endure another round so soon after the first one.
"Lane," he whispered. "Please….." He despised having to almost BEG this man for anything….but it seemed to be the only thing that struck any type of decent chord in what little sense of humanity was left in him. "It's so cold in here….can't I just keep my clothes on for tonight?"
Lane walked over to Justin now and leisurely trailed a hand down his sternum as he finally murmured, "You're so fucking beautiful, Angel, so fucking beautiful…I love your body." Justin closed his eyes, trying hard to push the sight of this man away somehow. He dreaded what the man might be planning, so it was with enormous relief when he heard Lane finally agree, "Very well, Angel, I don't want you getting sick on me. But you can't sleep in those clothes – I bought you some pajamas to wear. Although I don't expect them to get much use," he added, his voice deep with lust as his eyes darkened at the thought of Justin donning the red, silk pajamas he had made sure one of his men purchased for him to wear. The color of the pajamas would look magnificent against his pale skin; he couldn't wait to see them on him. He silently praised himself for his ability to preplan so many of the details that had been needed to keep them hidden from the rest of the world. If it was up to him, he would be quite content to keep Justin to himself forever.
"I'll go get the bins," he told his companion, walking over to the door to unlock it. "But just in case you're wondering, Justin – the door will be locked from the outside. It's the only door and the windows all have bars on them. So there's no point in trying to get out. I'll be right back," he told Justin as he opened the door and stepped out, closing the door and turning the key in the lock to secure it from the outside.
As soon as the man had left, finally leaving him miraculously alone for a few seconds, Justin's rather stoic resolve instantly disappeared, as he sat down on the nearby bed and placed his head in his hands and wept. His body shook as a tide of great loneliness and longing invaded his body; he tried to imagine Brian there with him, his lean, strong, warm arms surrounding him in a shell of love and protection as he sat on the bed with him and held him, rocking him to soothe his pain and worry away like he always did. Brian…where ARE you? I love you so much…..I need you…..
He quickly wiped his tear-stained eyes and cheeks with his sleeve as he heard the door being unlocked once more. He stood up as Lane re-entered the cabin carrying two plastic crates. Putting them down on the kitchen table, he pulled the top off the larger of the two and rooted through the contents until he spied what he looking for – a pair of dark red, almost burgundy-colored, pajama bottoms and a matching top.
Holding them out toward Justin, he seemed oblivious to the pained, glistening face of his captive as he said, "Look what I have for you, Angel…..I can't wait to see these on you. Try them on for me."
Justin slowly walked toward the other man and accepted the outstretched garments, taking great pains not to touch the other man's hand. Just the thought of this man touching him again sent needles of disgust running through him. He definitely did not want to have to undress in front of this man, either. "Lane…I need to use the bathroom," he told the other man. "I'll just get changed in there, okay?" he asked softly, hoping that Lane wouldn't think he was trying to trick him. Truth be told, he really DID need to go, and he wanted to check out the bathroom to see if there was anything in there that might possibly help him.
To his relief, Lane nodded after a few seconds. "All right, Angel….But don't keep me waiting too long. There's a small flashlight on the table over there by the door."
Justin nodded slightly in understanding as he carefully turned around and walked over toward the closed door. Turning the brass knob, he grabbed the small penlight lying on top of the small, oval wooden table and opened the door to peer in. He was relieved, as well as a little surprised, that Lane actually let him close the door behind him; he had half-expected the man to insist he keep it open, either to assuage his fears of finding some way to escape, or to merely satisfy his prurient desires to see him naked.
As he closed the door, though, and was bathed in privacy and quiet at last, he slumped down in front of the oak vanity in mental and physical exhaustion and leaned against the hard frame. The day had started out so promising – full of love and hope for the future, and as a day to celebrate the best day of his life – when he and Brian had finally wed. How did a day so full of joy turn into a day of sheer horror?
He held his breath for a moment as he abruptly heard Lane talking; apparently he was speaking to one of his men over the phone he carried with him – Brian's phone. In their escape, Justin had almost forgotten that Lane had his husband's phone with him. How he wished he could use it to find out where Brian was, but he knew his lover wouldn't have the phone now; wherever Brian was, he was probably in no position to be reached by phone anyway. If he could somehow get to Brian's phone, though, he could at least hopefully find a way to call for help, for both him AND Brian….
He closed his eyes as he tried hard not to give in to his weariness; he wished that he could just stay in here forever, or at least until someone found him and took him home where he belonged. But his wish was abruptly interrupted when he heard Lane calling to him from the other side of the door. "I'm waiting, Angel. If you're not out here in two minutes, I'm coming in to get you."
Justin sighed in defeat. Raising himself up on his knees, he slowly rose from his kneeling position and stood up to begin removing his leather pants, shirt and shoes Lane had provided for him earlier. He picked up the soft pajama top and began to tiredly tug his arms into it. Next, he pulled his legs into the pants, noticing the outfit seemed to fit him perfectly. How did Lane know precisely what size to get him? Did the man have 24-hour stalkers surrounding his and Brian's house all the time? Was his every move being watched while Lane was in prison? Just the thought of it made his skin crawl.
He took a piss in the toilet and quickly splashed some water on his face, glad at least that the cabin had running water; he had noticed a refrigerator out in the main room of the cabin, but apparently it didn't run on electricity because Lane was using a kerosene lamp; perhaps propane gas instead? He tried hard to concentrate on every detail of the space, not knowing when – or what – information would be useful for later, before he took a deep breath and turned the knob to open the door.
As Lane impatiently waited for Justin to return, he flipped Kinney's phone shut in disgust and placed it back in his pants pocket. One of his men, Lucas, who had been at the house earlier, had just informed him that two of his men had been killed in a shootout with police there; apparently he and Justin had managed to escape just in time to leave undetected and avoid the net that had swiftly been placed all over the perimeter of the residence and nearby areas to find them. Even fifteen more minutes and they would have apparently been caught trying to leave. He smiled smugly, though, knowing that they had been too late – as usual, their ineptness had been their downfall and his reward as he eagerly waited for his Angel to come out from the bathroom.
As if on cue, Lane's eyes lit up at the sight of Justin emerging from the bathroom, clothed in the red pajama set he had selected for him. He had been absolutely right – the dark-red shade of the pajamas set off Justin's skin tone perfectly and made the pale flesh almost glow from the flickering light of the lamp. The man was absolutely breathtaking in his beauty. He shook his head in awe, his admiring gaze sweeping over the blond vision in front of him. Just when he thought Justin couldn't get any more stunning, he surprised him. "You look so incredible," he whispered almost reverently. "Come here." He held out his hands in invitation, hardly able to stay rooted to his spot as he watched Justin slowly approach him.
Justin took in a ragged breath, trying desperately to remain calm. He was almost becoming numb in a way to this man's entreaties; each time the man touched him, he willed his heart and soul to detach itself from the physical part of his body. It was the only way he could tolerate what was happening to him. One mantra kept repeating itself in his head as he felt Lane's hands begin a slow journey from his shoulders, down his arms and then settle themselves on either side of his waist. For Brian, for Brian, for Brian….
Lane pulled Justin to him, wrapping his arms around his back and pushing his body flush against his. He breathed in Justin's intriguing scent as his lips nuzzled the tender flesh of his neck. He had never forgotten the smell of this man, the feel of his skin against his, the softness of his hair, the warmth of the lithe body against his, but now that he was experiencing it again in person, he realized how much more wonderful the actuality was than the remembrance.
Justin shivered at the onslaught, thoroughly disgusted by the violation of his wishes. He had hoped Lane would acquiesce to his desire for sleep; apparently the man couldn't quite follow through on his promises. "Lane….."
Lane pulled back enough to look Justin in the eyes, entranced as always by the blueness in the orbs. "Yes, Angel?" he asked, one hand coming up to caress the other man's cheek.
"Please…..I'm so tired. Can we go to bed now?" He hated to phrase it that way, but he saw no other way to say it. He really DID need some much-needed rest, especially if he had any hopes of thinking clearly. He wasn't sure just how much sleep he would get lying next to this man, but he was hoping he would be able to simply do it out of sheer exhaustion. His body was so weak at the moment that his mind was clouded with confusion. He would need rest to develop a plan to escape somehow.
Lane peered into the face of his captive, trying perhaps to see the truth hidden behind the blue eyes. He realized that Justin was extremely tired; besides, the man wasn't going anywhere – they would have forever now. "All right, Angel," he agreed, whispering. "But I need a goodnight kiss first." He licked his lips, eager for another taste of ambrosia as he wrapped one hand around the other man's neck and pulled him toward his waiting mouth.
Justin closed his eyes, trying hard to block out the man's face as he felt his lips pressing against his. He swallowed down another taste of bile as he felt the man's tongue pushing for entrance; he knew from the last time that he didn't dare refuse this additional intrusion. As he reluctantly opened his mouth to allow Lane's tongue access, his mind immediately leapt to another man's lips, another man's touch, another man's love…..
Lane was in heaven; he longed to feel Justin's arms caressing him, but just being able to deeply taste the essence that was purely his Angel's filled him with excitement and exhilaration as his lips and tongue plundered the tender, warm flesh. He had longed for this moment since the first second he had been forced into that hell hole of a prison; now it seemed that all his dreams were at last coming true. He and Justin would travel the world together – just the two of them, exploring all the places his artistic Angel dreamed of. He couldn't wait for them to begin their journey together – this shack was just a small, temporary blip in his plans until the excitement died down enough regarding his escape and the police moved onto another, more recent case.
It wouldn't be long before he would be free to squire the man he loved to his private plane and whisk him out of the country for good. Then no one would find them – most of all that fucker, Kinney. He should have killed the man when he had the chance, although just the threat that he might do it was enough to keep Justin closely by his side. He just wished he hadn't had to resort to such ridiculous tactics to get Justin to do his bidding. Well, no matter – soon enough, his Angel would realize who he really loved and willingly surrender to him, completely and totally.
As he finally broke off with Justin several seconds later, he noticed with satisfaction how his lover's lips were bruised and red from their kiss. He reached up and lovingly rubbed his thumb across the full lower lip, priding himself on how he had managed to "brand" the other man with his love. He reached his hand to grasp Justin by the upper arm and pull him closer to the bed. "Time to get some rest, Angel," he told the blond. "You've had a long day. Tomorrow everything will look much better, I promise."
Justin bit his lip, trying hard to keep it from quivering. He was NOT going to let this man see him cry – he wasn't going to give him that power and satisfaction. He remained silent as Prescott pushed him gently down to sit on top of the mattress. He watched as the man began to remove his shirt and then his pants, placing them on the floor beside the bed before toeing his shoes off nearby. He was relieved when he realized that Lane was going to keep his briefs on; at least the man was apparently not going to fuck him again tonight. He wasn't naïve enough, though, to think that the first time was going to be the only time.
Lane smiled as he sat down next to Justin and sighed. "I can't wait to hold you in my arms tonight, Angel," he crooned. "Lie down and rest now, my love. I'll be right back." Justin cringed as he watched the other man walkd over to the lamp sitting on top of the table and blow into the top of it, extinguishing the flame temporarily and once more bathing the room in almost total darkness. The only illumination that remained was a small sliver of moonlight filtering in from a window located in the front of the cabin; the partially-closed drapes provided just enough of a break to allow the light to shine through.
Justin sighed, resigned to his fate for the rest of the night. He needed to sleep so badly. He watched Lane walk back over to the bed and sit next to him. As he succumbed to the other man's command, he slowly lowered his body down onto the mattress and lay on his side facing away from him, staring blankly at the wall. His heart quickened in revulsion as he felt Lane's body spoon up against his and the man's arm possessively snaking itself around his waist to pull him back even more toward his chest. "Good night, Angel," he heard the man's whisper; his warm breath on his ear filled him with disgust as he shivered in response, but in his psychopathic state, no doubt Prescott would simply mistake it as desire for him. He took a breath, his mind whirling with the events from today. He wondered how he could possibly sleep with his mind racing so fast and this man touching him, but as Lane snuggled into him even more and he heard the other man's breathing even out, signaling sleep, at last Justin gave in to his own exhaustion and against his better judgement, he felt the weariness finally overtaking him. He closed his eyes and was soon asleep himself.
His sleep, however, was not the restful one he had desperately needed. Instead, in its place were visions of today's events, replaying over and over again in his mind. Blessedly interspersed with them, though, were some happy times with Brian – their honeymoon, their wedding, their day-to-day lives at the Blackbird condo, moments of playfulness and love in their new home. Visits with Gus – painting with him, making faces on his cheeks with brushstrokes, even pillow fights with him and Brian – these images helped him to overcome the horrible ones that threatened to overwhelm him as he restlessly slept.
He finally gasped softly an hour later as he woke up, startled, a horrific vision permeating his dreams – one where Brian was lying dead in a ditch, tied up and shot with tape over his mouth, his hazel eyes staring open lifelessly after being killed by one of Prescott's men. His own eyes opened, startled, as he fought to desperately wake up from the heart-wrenching vision. As his body jerked awake and his heart pounded in fear, he had to think for a few seconds about where he was; when the realization came, he was filled with deep pain and sorrow.
He noticed he was now lying on his back and Lane had moved in his sleep as well; the man was now lying on his back, also, one hand lying on his stomach while the other was positioned above his head on the pillow. The man's steady, regular breathing signaled that he was apparently in a deep sleep at the moment. Justin took several breaths, trying hard to get his rapid pants to slow down from his too-real nightmare. He was relieved at least that Prescott wasn't touching him any longer – every time he felt the man's hands or lips on his, he felt his soul dying just a little more inside as he felt Brian's loving touch being pushed farther away from him in the face of this other man's unwelcome advances. He feared that before too long, his hope would die as well. He had to find a way to get out of here; the longer he stayed under this man's control, the less chance there would be of being found or escaping. Make no mistake, though – no matter how long it took, he would never give up trying to get away from this man, or he would die trying. If Brian was dead, he wouldn't care, anyway – he wouldn't want to live without the piece of his heart that would be missing then.
He lifted his head as he tried to make sure Lane was really asleep; he could hear the steady rise and fall of the man's chest, signaling that he was truly asleep and not just faking. After all, the man had to be as tired as he was, maybe even MORE so. He couldn't watch Justin twenty-four hours a day. Thoughts about Brian's cell phone rushed into his mind; dare he try to locate it while Lane was asleep? He lay there, trying to decide what to do, before he craned his neck one more time to look over at his kidnapper to determine he was still sleeping.
He took a deep breath before gingerly turning on his side to face the wall. He could just barely make out a small sliver of space between the wall and the bed, just enough for a slender body such as his to stand up and sidestep to the end of the bed. Did he dare? He sighed softly, afraid to make any dramatic movements for fear he would wake up Lane. He was torn between wanting desperately to try to get help and his fear of endangering Brian. But he knew he just couldn't keep this up – one more day spent with this madman and he would surely go insane himself.
Making up his mind, he ever so slowly scooted, inch by inch, toward the edge of the bed, stopping every after minute movement to listen for the rhythmic sounds of the other man's breathing. He finally came to the edge of the bed; as his heart pounded, so loudly he was the sure Lane must be able to hear it, he finally twisted his lower body around enough to sit upright on the bed. He held his breath, terrified that his movements were surely being detected while he tried desperately to slow his breathing down to a more normal cadence.
Thankfully, all he could hear besides his soft pants of anxiety was the continual breathing coming from the other side of the bed. He silently thought about Brian, his strength and his love for him providing him with the courage to move forward, as he rose from the bed in an excruciatingly slow pace, each effort causing his breath to hitch for fear the movement or a sound would be heard or felt by the other man.
He eventually stood at last after several minutes , unfettered between the wall and the mattress, continuing to stand there, too afraid to move. He risked turning his head, half-expecting to see Lane sitting up on the bed, staring at him in a threatening manner and about to yank him back down on the bed, but miraculously, the man remained as he had been, lying there on his back with his hands in the same position. Thank goodness the man was apparently a sound sleeper. Please…..please don't let him notice I'm gone, he pleaded silently as he slowly, so slowly, began to scoot sideways between the bed, placing his hands against the coldness of the wall to make sure his body didn't somehow bump up against the side of the bed frame and awaken his sleeping captor.
He stopped to collect his thoughts as he finally stood free at the end of the bed. Thankfully so far, there had been no typical sounds that emerged from the floor such as a creaking or squeaking noise, to alert Lane to the fact that his companion was out of the bed and about to risk something extremely dangerous.
Justin bit his lip and held his breath as he crept closer, foot by foot, toward the other side of the bed, intent on reaching the huddled pile of clothes that Lane had strewn haphazardly on the floor. He didn't dare hold onto the bed for support lest the other man feel it. If Justin thought getting out of bed was difficult, this would no doubt prove to be the most dangerous of all – trying to reach down and retrieve Brian's cell from the other man's pants pocket while the man was sleeping a few feet away.
Slowly, incrementally, he moved ever closer to his target, the adrenalin flowing through his veins as his heart continued to pound with a mixture of fear and excitement. He didn't dare allow hope to enter in the equation – he was too nervous to consider that possibility at the moment. He reached the corner of the bed and proceeded bit by bit toward the pile of clothing cast in shadows on the floor nearby.
Suddenly an idea sprang into his head as he squatted down on his knees and then crouched down flat on the floor, below the mattress frame and hopefully out of sight of the other man. Slowly pushing himself forward with his hands like a newly-recruited military cadet, he kept his eyes squarely on the clothing a few feet away. Please…please, he kept repeating to himself as he finally stretched his hand out in a desperate move to reach Prescott's pants. Just a few more inches…..
He bit his lip to force the groan from coming out as he strained to reach the linen fabric. He stretched as far as he could go, finally making contact with the much-needed garment. Sighing silently in relief, he froze as he heard the mattress creaking, signaling that Lane was moving. Oh, God…Please, no….
He quickly snatched the man's pants, digging frantically for the phone as he held them to his own body like a lifeline. His heart soared as he felt the hardness of the phone and found the pocket, reaching in to curl his hand protectively around the phone – Brian's phone.
"Justin?"
His eyes filled with horror and his heart dropped as he heard Lane's voice. No…Please God, No…..
"Justin!" The voice was stronger now, tinged with just a hint of concern as Lane slowly awakened. "Where ARE you? Answer me!" Justin knew that any second Lane would figure out where he was and what he was doing. He had only a second to act…
Just before Prescott could rise from the bed, Justin flipped the phone open, finding that it was turned on and in vibrate mode. As he stared at the screen, his heart soared and he felt a tremendous weight that had been threatening to crush him suddenly lifting from his body and his spirit as he saw the brief text message that had been transmitted approximately 30 minutes ago: 4-5-9.
