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Joe screwed his eyes shut behind the blindfold, jumping at every shot. He waited to feel a bullet slam into him.

But none came. Soon the gunfire fell away. Joe was left to sit there, chest tight with panic. There were no noises from the room for a very long time. And then Joe heard a whisper.

"I'm sorry about that," Mauve's mouthpiece declared. "But I cannot tolerate failure so extreme."

"Those were gunshots," Joe croaked out.

"How very astute of you," Mr Mauve's mouthpiece said.

Joe wished he could see the man's face, wished he had some clue to his intentions. He wished he could hear Mauve's voice itself. Any indication of what the man was going to do to him.

"I am afraid those guards you were able to slip past aren't any use to me if they can't keep a child at bay."

"And the man?" Joe managed.

A final gunshot rang out. Joe bit back a yelp.

"As much as I wish I could have worked with him, there are certain things I don't want Marsden knowing about."

Joe could barely think. He felt like his blood had turned to ice. He struggling to string words together, clinging to a deduction, praying it was true.

"You're letting me go?"

"Well, I am letting you live. Whether Marsden comes to collect you is entirely his decision."

"Oh, he'll come," Joe said with all the confidence he could muster.

Despite his confidence Marsden would come the moment he learn where he was, Joe thought it might be better to escape. Marsden wouldn't be happy to find he had had been caught but he would be able to offer a little bit of respect for the fact that Joe had stopped himself from becoming a hostage.

But his attempts to escape were all in vain. His attempts to cut free his wrists resulted in nothing more than a hand roughly grabbing his arm and dragging him across the floor so he was completely exposed. There Joe lay for what felt like hours, his bound hands going numb. Escaping no longer felt like an option. He knew any attempt to get out of his ropes would only end with the men seeing and something worse happening to him.

Then he heard the doors of the warehouse being opened.

Joe froze, listening intently. He was sure he could hear too many footsteps. Someone knew must have joined them. Trying to make himself seem as impressive as possible, tried to angle his face so he was looking right at them in spite of the blindfold. He heard the footsteps stopping, could sense all eyes were on him.

"He is impressive, isn't he?" Joe heard Mr Mauve's mouthpiece say.

It was the first sign he was no longer alone in the room.

"We had to move him into the centre of the room to so we could watch him better. Make sure he didn't escape. He's a very resourceful young man."

"I know."

Joe felt a wave of relief pass over him. Marsden. Marsden was there. And he was going to fix things. He was never going to let anything happen to him.

There was a chuckle, a pause and then the monotone voice of Mauve's mouthpiece filled the room.

"So it is true. You are rather fond of the little scamp. I've rather taken to him myself. I will give you thirty thousand for him right now."

There was an alarmingly long silence. Joe felt sicker as each second ticked by. Why wasn't Marsden immediately shutting it down? He knew thirty thousand was a good sum of money but Marsden had far more. Surely, he wasn't tempted.

"How about we say seventy thousand?"

Joe shook his head. It was all he felt able to do. There was a whispered discussion.

"Shall we conduct negotiations out of the boy's earshot?" Mauve's mouthpiece suggested.

Joe was left lying there in the warehouse, hands painfully bound, still blindfolded. He fought back tears, hating that Marsden hadn't immediately made it clear he was not for sale.

He was his kid, his apprentice. How could he…?

And yet…

When the doors opened again, Joe prepared himself for the horrific news. He prepared to be dragged to his feet and bundled into whatever vehicle Mauve had waiting for him. Instead, he felt a rough but familiar hand grab his arm.

"Looks like you're stuck with me," Marsden growled.

Joe felt humiliated as relief swept over him. He hadn't meant to question Marsden's care for him. He told himself it had been stupid as he was pulled to his feet. Marsden cared about him. He wouldn't sell him.

Joe let himself be roughly dragged from the warehouse, shoved into the back of Marsden's car. It was a few moments later that he felt the bonds around his wrists being cut away, the blindfold and gag being removed.

"Thank you," Joe said.

He heard the quiver in voice. He swallowed thickly, trying to steel his nerves.

Taking himself in, he could see no signs of what had happened beside the small bands of irritated skin around his wrists. No one would know. He couldn't imagine his parents would care to ask even if they did notice he was acting off.

"He shot them," Joe said.

"I saw," Marsden replied sharply. "He could have easily shot you."

Joe almost choked on his next breath. His blood turned to ice.

"You stupid boy!" Marsden growled. "Going onto Mauve's turf like that! You are only lucky he called me. He had no reason to. You are going to be punished for doing something so stupid. Mark my words. I will not have you causing trouble for me running into the turf of other gangs because you think it's a game."

"Then maybe you should have just sold me!" Joe snapped back.

Marsden paused. He studied Joe.

"Were you really thinking about it? Were you really thinking about selling me?"

Joe wasn't sure if he wanted to hear the answer but he knew he still needed to know.

"A man like that…" Marsden told him. "I had to play him. If he realised that I see you as my family, he would have never left us alone."

"So the bid was just an act?" Joe said.

Marsden nodded.

"Of course it was. He gave up his bidding pretty quickly after he came to think it wasn't the powerplay he thought it was."

Joe mustered up a weak smile.

He hated that Marsden hadn't warned him, hated that he had been left to suffer in the depths of panic while Marsden and Mauve had been negotiating. He could still feel the bubble of terror in his chest at the thought Marsden might really intend to sell him.

"Can you tell me about him? The stuff I need to know."

Marsden's face darkened. He turned to look straight ahead, growling that there was nothing Joe needed to know.

"The more you know about Mauve, the more trouble you'll be in with him. And just because you're my kid, doesn't mean I'm going to defend you from him all the time. Sooner or later you'll have to take responsibility for the things you know and the things you decide to be nosy about. There comes a point where you can't expect people to keep putting their necks on the line for you."

Joe had more to say but it was very clear on Marsden's face that the discussion was over.'

Finishing his story, Joe looked up at Fenton. He studied the detective's face. The boy's voice was tight and nervous as he continued.

"Now I think… I think Marsden lied to me that night. That he really negotiated with the intent to sell me and that it wasn't just an act. I think they might have even come to an agreement, that Mauve would get me if Marsden got locked up or just didn't want me anymore."

He swallowed thickly.

"I'm an idiot, right? Still thinking of that man as my father when…"

Fenton quickly circled the desk. He knelt down beside Joe, staring right into the boy's blue eyes.

"You are not an idiot. You were isolated and mistreated and he took advantage of you."

"I want to be able to call you dad," Joe whispered, tears beginning to roll down his cheeks. "I just… I can't… I'm sorry."

Shaking his head, Fenton assured Joe it was alright. He reached out for a tissue and offered it to his son.

"You have nothing to apologise for. I won't lie to you and say it doesn't matter to me that you don't call me dad but compared to other things… If you calling me Mr Hardy or Detective or even never speaking to me again is the price for you being happy and safe, I'd gladly pay it. All I want is for you to be okay."

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