Chapter XXXI

Queens, NY

He was tied to the bed. Literally. It was a chain of sorts, attached to what looked almost like handcuffs or shackles, but bigger and missing its second piece. It might even be hand-made. The sole cuff was wrapped firmly around one of his ankles, connected to a metal chain which was hooked to the metal railing of the bed. It was long enough that he could get up and use the small, damp and windowless bathroom attached to the room, while still chained to it.

At first he'd yanked at it because it looked deceptively fragile. But nothing budged no matter how hard he'd pulled and yanked and twisted. Not even the metal bed frame, which appeared to be nailed into the floor.

So what? Castle thought. He'd knock out Salvador if need be and then drag himself and this whole bed out of whatever basement he was trapped in. Maybe he didn't have the photogenic muscles of a gym rat, but he was strong enough that he could take down a psychopath who was several inches shorter than he and then drag a bed up a flight of stairs.

But of course it wasn't that simple.

Salvador Ojeda wasn't stupid.

Two days into his captivity, it occurred to Castle that he could barely muster the energy to even try. He constantly seemed to drift off to sleep against his will in the middle of the day, for hours at a time.

And then he realized why.

Salvador was drugging his food.

After that realization, Castle refused to touch it. His suspicions were confirmed when he felt the lethargy disappear and his alertness return. He no longer nodded off inexplicably and his every focus was on Sal's movements.

It had been a day since his last bite of anything and now Salvador had set a tray of rice, chicken and broccoli on his bedside table and Castle couldn't help but notice the concern on his captor's face.

"You're only going to hurt yourself if you don't eat," Sal told him.

"You first," he shot back.

Sal hesitated and it confirmed what Castle already knew.

"I won't let you starve," Salvador told him. "I'll do whatever it takes."

"You can start by not drugging my food. For someone who supposedly cares so much about me, you sure have a shitty way of showing it."

Anger flashed across Ojeda's face. "You don't know what's best for you. I know you better than you know yourself. I know that you want to fight me. To get away. Because you don't understand that what I'm going to give you is so much better than what you had. When you stop fighting me, I can stop drugging you."

"Guess I'll starve then."

Ojeda's anger morphed into frustration. He looked like a parent who didn't know what to do with his willful toddler. Castle was very familiar with the expression. "There are other ways I can get food into you. Trust me, it's easier for you to eat what I give you."

Castle fisted his hands, feeling the adrenaline shoot through him now that he was no longer drugged.

Salvador Ojeda wasn't wrong.

He was prepared to fight.

As soon as the man was within arm's reach, Castle picked up the tray of food and slammed it into Sal's face as hard as he could.

12th Precinct, NYC

Beckett went to see Gates in her office, hoping for, well, truthfully, she wasn't sure what exactly she'd expected. Action, primarily, but maybe also a break and a hint of compassion.

"Let me come back," she argued when seated across from her boss. "Please. I'll serve out my suspension once he's found. Twice as long if you want."

"So I should reward you for going off to question hotel staff while suspended?"

"I spoke to them as a civilian."

Gates didn't dignify that lie with a comment. Instead she shot her a look of disdain. "And I should put you on a case where you have a personal connection? Because the last one turned out so well?"

Beckett bit her tongue.

"Do you really think I'm a fool, Detective?"

"No, Sir. I think…" She paused, desperately needing the right words. "The opposite. I think you're very smart. That you know if Ojeda is behind this both the mayor and the commissioner will want us to prioritize this. That Richard Castle's life may depend on it and that no one else will put as much effort into this case as I will. I know Ojeda is still out there because I dropped the ball on that case. You're right about that. Please give me a chance to make up for it."

Victoria Gates sighed. "I appreciate your resolve, Kate."

"Please, let me work this."

"It's not our case to work," Gates told her. "If this is indeed a kidnapping, and it increasingly looks to be the case, then the FBI will run point on it."

"I can't imagine they won't ask us to assist considering that Castle used to work out of the 12th."

"Mr. Castle didn't work out of this precinct. He's a civilian observer and I have no idea what sort of assistance the FBI may or may not want from us. I know one thing for certain, that if they do require our assistance, I'm not going to provide them with a detective who's currently suspended for going rogue."

Beckett dug her nails into her palm. It was the only thing keeping her mouth shut.

Gates pushed herself out of her chair and slid into her suit jacket. "I have a presentation to attend at Javits, which I'm soon going to be late for. You've served three days of your suspension. You have two days left this week and then another week. If we haven't located Richard Castle by then and if the FBI has involved us, then I will consider having you work the case."

By then he might be dead.

"Thank you," the words barely made it past her lips.

"I trust you can see yourself out," Gates told her, after she grabbed a briefcase and purse and left her office.

Beckett watched her rush out of the bullpen and then fought back the urge to slam her Captain's office door shut, after she stepped out of it.

Ryan turned his head in her direction. "No luck?"

Knowing that Gates had left the building, Beckett pulled up Castle's chair next to Ryan's desk. "That's an understatement."

Ryan winced. "Sorry."

"I knew it was a long shot." It's my fault I was suspended, she wanted to add. If her suspension and consequent lack of access to police resources ended up costing Castle, she'd never forgive herself.

"If the FBI wants us in, I'll do what I can to be on the team."

"Thanks…"

"Hey," he cocked his head. "Even if they don't, I'm gonna do whatever I can on my own, you know that." He lowered his voice. "If there's anything you need me to do here…all you gotta do is ask."

"I know."

"He's my friend too."

"Uhm…Kev, speaking of that. You know if the FBI starts digging into his life they might discover…" She swallowed. "I should tell you before you find it out elsewhere, Castle and I, we're…"

"You guys are together." Kevin smirked. "Yeah, we know."

Beckett coughed. "You know? Who is we?"

"Just me and Javi."

"What? How…how long have you…?"

"Not that long," he admitted. "That long weekend when you went away, before the Pandora case. Javi and I suspected you were seeing someone. You've had this giddy, sappy love-glow all you're your face for a while. We figured as your partners we had to, you know, vet the guy."

"Vet the guy?"

He cleared his throat. "Plus we had money riding on a bet."

"Jesus."

"So we tracked your phone. Neither of us expected to trace it to Castle's Hamptons home and when we saw it there Friday night and again first thing on Saturday morning, well, being the crack detectives we are, we put two and two together." He smirked. "You guys were real cute…coming to the precinct separately that morning."

Beckett slapped his shoulder. Hard. "You used police resources to track my phone? Unbelievable."

"It was fun watching you get all jealous during that TV interview he did with the Bikini Reporter."

"Yet you never said anything."

Ryan shrugged. "We figured you had your reasons for keeping it under wraps."

"Gates," she confessed. "You know she'd have kicked him out if she knew. So we thought the fewer people who knew, the better."

"I get it," he told her. "But you coulda told your partners."

"I know. I'm sorry." She really was. The fact that they hadn't even let her know that they knew was ample proof that they could be trusted. They always had her back.

"If I hadn't gone to Gates on your last case you wouldn't be suspended."

If Ryan hadn't shown up on the rooftop when he did, she'd be dead. Beckett shuddered at the thought. "Stop it. You did the right thing."

"Maybe…"

"Yeah, you did." She sighed and looked him in the eye. "I'm scared, Kev. I love him…and Ojeda, he's a psycho who almost succeeded in killing two people. I have to find him and..." She blinked hard to hold back the threat of angry tears. "I don't know if I can do it like this. With my hands tied. Without a badge or a gun or a partner…"

"Those aren't the things that make you good at what you do," Ryan reminded her. "Besides, you still have partners."

Beckett pushed herself off the chair. Ryan was right, she had to push her frustration aside and find a way. Castle's life depended on it.

"Call me," Ryan reiterated. "Whatever you need. Just let me know."

Beckett nodded. Grateful. "I will."

Queens, NY

His first instinct was to knock him out. If he got Salvador Ojeda unconscious, Castle was certain he could figure out a way out of chain that tied one of his legs to the bed.

He'd find a way to rip the bed posts out of the floor.

When he hit Ojeda on the side of the head with the tray of food, he did knock him off balance and send him toppling to the ground, as well as the food and the plastic cutlery that was on the tray. All of it made it enough noise to wake the dead.

Then he was about to use his fist to on Ojeda's face to land what he hoped would be the knockout punch.

Instead, Ojeda got back up and fought back, seemingly oblivious to the blood that was now pouring out of his nose.

He bulldozed himself into the centre of Castle's body and sent him crashing into the wall. Stars danced at the edge of his vision but thankfully the attack didn't knock him out either. He fought back in every possible way. Clawing at the man's face. Taking punches as though he were used to street fights. Kicking Salvador's balls and shins. Deflecting punches and ignoring the searing pain when the retaliatory kicks and punches rained down on him.

No matter what he did, no matter how hard he hit him, Ojeda would not pass out.

Instead he was the one who ended up tripping on the chain tied to his ankle. The only thing that stopped his dead drop to the floor was a metal bedpost hitting the back of his shoulders on the way down.

Ironically that turned out to be the knockout punch, because suddenly he was plunged into darkness.

When Castle slowly blinked his eyes back open, he wasn't sure how much time had elapsed.

Ojeda was standing above him, with dried blood all over his face, and he was pointing a gun at him.

Where the hell did he get that from? Had it been on him all along? Had he pulled it from some hiding place in this room?

Pain coursed through his neck and shoulders, mingling with the ice-cold fear of staring down the barrel of a gun.

"Don't make me hurt you, Rick." Ojeda told him. In spite of the weapon pointed at his face, Salvador's voice was surprisingly gentle. "Now you get why I drug your food. 'Cause I know this is how you're gonna act if I don't." He gave him a sad smile. "I told you, I know you better than you know yourself."

Rick closed his eyes. Angry at himself for being so stupidly predictable. For acting impulsively in anger and rage, without a plan, instead of being smart. It was exactly the kind of cliché he avoided at all costs in his novels.

My fictional characters would never be this stupid.

Salvador lowered his gun and it gave Castle the chance to focus on his face rather than the weapon he was holding. Blood had started to cake around his nose and one of his eyes would soon be swallowed up by growing mound of purple around it.

He wasn't a violent man by nature, and even seeing his captor's face now gave him no pleasure. But it did remind him of what he was capable of when pushed against a wall. It he hadn't tripped over the chain tying him to the bed, he might have emerged victorious.

Next time I do this, I'll have a plan to go with it.

"I'm sorry," he told Ojeda.

His captor stared at him. "For what?"

"What I did to your face."

"Oh, Rick." There was such tenderness in his voice. "I know you didn't mean to hurt me. You're a good man. This doesn't hurt me. It's nothing. Papa beat me so many times, I don't think my body feels anything anymore."

A pang of sadness struck Castle, in spite of everything. Pity for the awkward little boy who probably never stood a chance in his twisted world. We raise monsters and then question why they hurt us.

"Will you put the gun away?"

Salvador lowered the weapon. "You can't fight me, Rick. Do you get that? You're not gonna win. Plus, I have this. I don't want to use it, but if you give me no choice, then I have to." He looked so pathetically sad. "Don't make me use it. Please."

A chill ran up his sore spine. "Okay."

"I don't want to hurt you…" He sounded like he was close to tears.

"I know…" Castle managed. "I know you don't."

"I'm sorry…" Ojeda was crying now. "I know I did hurt you. I'm so sorry."

Jesus, you have to be kidding me. Castle swallowed and shook off the dread that filled him. "Well… we hurt each other so I guess that makes us even."

"I forgive you," Salvador sobbed. "I will always forgive you everything."

Castle pushed himself up off the floor. Slowly and gingerly to assess the damage. Pain shot up his neck with every movement and he hoped it was nothing serious. He managed to push himself back up onto the bed, until he carefully sat down on its edge. For a second the room spun around him and he noticed that he was dizzy and nauseated too. But it didn't last.

"I need to take a shower," Castle told him. "Clean myself up."

He'd seen a tiny shower stall next to the sink but hadn't used it yet. Wasn't sure how he'd get off his pants and underwear with that thing attached to his ankle.

Salvador used the back of his hand to wipe away a mix of blood and tears from his face. "Yes. You do."

Castle gestured to the chain around his ankle. "How?"

"You can take it off," Salvador told him.

A shot of adrenaline coursed through him. He could try again.

Because your odds are so much better now that you're hurt and he's got a gun pointed at you?

Idiot.

No, he wasn't that stupid. Now was not the right time for anything except trying to get on Sal's good side.

Salvador fished a metallic key from a ring attached to his belt and tossed it onto the bed. He was still pointing the gun at him. "You can unlock it. It's like a handcuff key."

Castle stuck it into the only opening he saw and with a metallic click, it came undone.

"Toss the key back on the bed," Ojeda ordered.

Every fibre of Castle's being wanted to pounce on him, regardless of the consequences.

"If you try anything, I have to kill you. It will kill me too. But I'll do it. I can't let you go back to your old life."

Castle clenched his teeth. He thought of Alexis. Of his mother. Kate.

The three of them, at his funeral.

No.

No way.

I am not giving you that satisfaction, you psychopath.

Castle stared at him. "I just…need a shower."

"You need fresh clothes too. I have some here, in this drawer for you."

"I do…" Castle agreed.

"Take your clothes off."

"I'll do it in the bathroom."

"No," Ojeda told him. "Here. Now. Leave them on the floor so I can replace them for you."

The gun was still pointed at him. "If I don't, you'll kill me?"

Ojeda cocked the trigger. "I just want to see you."

Fuck.

Castle took off his pants, wincing when the movement triggered another shot of pain up his spine. It radiated fiercely at the base of his neck. Then he took off his underwear and raised his chin towards Ojeda in defiance.

Go ahead and stare. Take whatever sick pleasure it gives you.

Lust and delight were etched on his beat-up face. "You're so beautiful, Rick. Inside…and out."

Castle turned away from him and stepped into the bathroom. He shook off his disgust and turned on the shower as soon as was inside. Streams of hot water poured over him and he pretended that his hands and knees weren't shaking. Unsure of what he'd do if Salvador were to come inside.

He wanted to sink to the ground and curl into himself. As if he could escape this insanity by pretending he wasn't here. As if he could somehow flee into the fictional worlds he was so good at creating.

He couldn't remember the last time he was this terrified.

What if he couldn't find a way out? What if Kate couldn't find him? Would he never see his beautiful daughter again?

Would he spend the rest of his life chained to a bed in a basement? Or die trying to escape it?

The hot water kept streaming over his sore body and Castle struggled to catch his breath. His heart raced and panic surged in his veins.

He turned the tap in the opposite direction and suddenly the hot stream of water turned ice cold. He gasped and let it run. Let it numb his body and divert his mind from the panic that was threatening to drown him.

And when it slowly succeeded, Castle turned off the water and stared at the moldy bathroom tiles until his heart stopped racing.

He thought back to his attack on Ojeda. He'd counted on knocking the guy out without even knowing how to free himself once he did.

Instead he was the one who'd ended up unconscious and flat on his back.

He had to bide his time. Lull Ojeda into complacency and catch him off guard. If it took days, even weeks, to get there, he'd have to learn patience too.

The thought of being here for weeks made him shiver so hard that goosebumps ran along his entire naked body. The small hand towel he had to dry himself didn't seem to make a difference.

Do it smarter and better next time. Fight like Derrick Storm and Nikki Heat, not like Richard Castle.

If knocking out Ojeda was essential to his escape then he had to find a way to make sure it would happen. Not just aim for his head and hope for the best.

And he had one big thing working in his favour. The man was obsessed with him. He wanted him. What he needed to do was find a way to work Ojeda's obsession in his favour.

Castle exhaled. He was still sore and dazed, but at least the ice-cold water had tamed his panic and made him capable of stringing together a few coherent thoughts.

If one of my characters were stuck here, how would I get them out? I'd find a way.

He took a few more deep breaths, until he stopped shivering.

But if you find me first, Kate, I'd be totally cool with that too.

He closed his eyes and imagined she was here with him. Thought of the many showers they had together and how it would never be enough. Because he couldn't imagine ever tiring of those lips on his. Of not wanting her gorgeous body wrapped around him. That realization suddenly hit him too, that he could no longer imagine a life without her in it.

I miss you. You have no idea. I wanna believe that by now you're looking for me, you and the guys at the 12th, and knowing that…it gives me hope. Because I know that you're so much smarter than this psycho.

I have to get get out of here and make things right between us. Because I want to spend the rest of my life with you.

It extinguished the last of his panic. The knowledge that in a showdown between Ojeda and Beckett, there was no doubt in his mind as to who the winner would be.

He dried himself off as best as he could and stepped back into the room, where Ojeda was waiting for him, gun still in hand.

Castle let him stare.

"There are fresh clothes for you on the bed," Ojeda told him in a shaky voice. "Put them on. Then put the ankle cuffs back on."

Castle took his time getting dressed, giving Ojeda plenty of time to soak in the sight of him. Then he chained himself back to the bed with one metallic click.

He would get out of here. But not tonight.

Later on, Ojeda brought him more food and Castle ate it, because he was lightheaded with hunger. He knew it was drugged but he didn't care.

He welcomed the oblivion and he knew he needed the rest. He hoped it would give his body some time to recover and after that he'd start plotting a new way out.