A/N: Not quite the update I wanted, but it's an update. There won't be another until later this weekend. In the process of making a dress shirt for my daughter's recital (it's for me to wear) on Sat! Got to say grey is a very depressing color...it's the color the sky has been for weeks. Really need some sun. Again, thanks so much for the reviews and follows. Sam, since I can't talk to ya any other way. Yes, Kendall is a bit docile, but he really wasn't given much opportunity to fight back.
"Stop it!" another voice hissed before silence fell over the group.
"How do we know you aren't working with whoever took Kendall?" The small brunette girl who'd questioned her motives before said.
"You don't," she said simply, "but I swear to you, all of you, that I'm not."
"Katie," the girl said, "and I believe you."
"Katie, I believe that my father's current case is connected to why Kendall has disappeared."
"What does your dad have to do with Kendall?" The shorter brunet asked.
"Is there somewhere more private we can go?"
With a nod the eldest male of the group led them to the elevators and up to their suites.
BTRBTRBTRBTRBTRBTRBTRBTR
Kendall could feel the bruise in the shape of Adam's hand forming around his bicep where the man kept grabbing him. He was once more dragged down the hall to the gray room with the chair in the center and ragged table along the wall. The chair was different. In place of the simple metal framed chair was a plush, wing backed chair complete with matching ottoman. The dark tone of the chair the perfect background for his all white clothing.
"Sit," Adam said, giving Kendall a light shove toward the chair. "Don't be afraid to get comfortable. Smile even."
"What's this for?"
"Here's the deal, Kendall," Adam said, camera in hand. His voice and face were serious with a very light undercurrent of concerned. "I can't let you go. You've seen my face, know my name. More importantly you've seen my face. Normal bad guys would simply kill you when they're finished using you. I'm not your usual bad guy, Kendall. I'm supposed to be the good guy." He stared at Kendall a long moment, brown eyes taking in his effect on the teen. By the fear nakedly present in the wide green eyes staring back at him, Adam knew his words were sinking in.
"The first round of photos were a ruse. I'm doing some final touches on those to make the make-up look more realistic. Then those will be sent to your family along with a hefty ransom demand."
"You're taking more pictures?" Adam nodded, tapping the camera against his thigh. "Why? What for? I just want to go home. Please, just let me go."
"I can't," Adam said, once again feeling bad for what he had planned for the teen. "But with luck and hard work I can at least double my profit for betraying everything I spent years defending."
"The ransom?"
"No. Now smile," Adam said, flipping the camera on and up to begin taking photos.
BTRBTRBTRBTRBTRBTRBTR
Kendall lay on the mostly lumpy mattress of the bed in his room, humiliated by the bulk of photos Adam had taken. All he could think about as the camera clicked and Adam demanded a certain pose for him—even positioning him in awkward stances—was going home. Or at least back to the hotel and being surrounded by his family and friends. And now that he was back in his cell all he could think about was what those pictures were for exactly. They clearly weren't meant for his mom, Gustavo, or even Griffin.
The only answer his brain could form was that Adam intended on selling him. Disgust and anger filled him at the thought. Adam intended to sell him. For what exactly, Kendall didn't know. He wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know. He just hoped that either the police rescued him or he could find a way to escape.
Staring up at the cold grey of the ceiling he scoffed at himself. Escape. Adam hadn't offered him much opportunity to even consider it, let alone attempt it. Before the long down time alone after the last photo session, he hadn't even had time to think. After being drugged in the car, he'd woken to the grey room only to be promptly removed, made-up, photographed, shoved back in the room, showered and then re-photographed. A part of him wished that being sold moved that fast, or at the very least a rescue happened that quickly. A small part of him. A larger part of him wanted to save himself.
Ignoring the chill in the room, and how thin the clothing he wore really was, Kendall created a mental list of he did know of his situation. Adam was about as British as he was. Grey was the decorator's favorite color, as it seemed to be on every wall and ceiling in every room he'd seen. His room had no door on the bathroom, no curtain for the shower, and no windows. The door to his room was more secure than it looked. The handle was sturdy and locked.