Gerard's POV

Then I'd woken up in the back of a van with my hands tied behind my back and the headache of the fucking century. Strange as it sounds, I was still cursing Fattell at this point. It hadn't occurred to me that, while Fattell was a total douche bag, he wasn't really the kidnapping type. All I could think was that I was going to kick his ass as soon as I got my hands untied.

Gimme a break okay? I was having a tough day.

Thanks to a splattering of black paint across the small windows on the back door, it was almost totally pitch-black in the van. I squinted around me, my vision steadily growing better.

I could feel something – no, someone – pressed tightly against my right shoulder, and the cold wall of the van was pressed against the right. I peered up at the person, way, way up. The guy was a fucking giant. Across from him was another gargantuan, and across from me was someone a lot smaller. Someone with familiar floppy brown hair and thick black-framed glasses. Someone that looked exactly like my brother.

Fuck, it was Mikey.

It was about then that realisation hit – these guys weren't high-school bullies, they were fucking kidnappers. Oh god, oh god, oh god. My brain blanked, my heart stopped and my throat closed up. Mikey and I were being kidnapped! This didn't happen! This happened to kids who lived in giant cities and walked home alone. This did not happen to small-town kids on their way to class!

I began to hyperventilate, black spots appearing in my vision. My head rolled and fell against my chest as dizziness took over. I couldn't understand anything that was happening. As I stared at my lap, hoping brain function would kick in again soon, the van bounced and jumped.

Where were we? The van was moving too much for us to be on town roads now, my brain offered. Finally, I seemed to be getting somewhere. Sure, I should've been thinking about escape, but at least I was thinking now.

So, I wasn't in town. That meant we would have been driving for at least fifteen minutes, since the school was right in the centre of town and it took at least that long to hit the back roads. It could've been any amount of time though, since I had no clue how long I'd been out.

Where would they be taking us?

I knew of a few backwoods cabins just outside of town, so that could be their destination. But why would a bunch of huge guys kidnap two teenage boys and take them to a cabin? Not for anything good, that's for sure.

It only occurred to me then that I should be checking on Mikey. He wasn't making any noise, but that didn't really mean much for him. I could just make out his outline in the darkness now. His head was against his chest, but I couldn't tell if that meant he was unconscious or not.

I tested my feet for ropes and fortunately found none. Eyeing the giants sitting beside us, I carefully nudged my foot against Mikey's. He snuffled and jerked a little. Oh shit, he was unconscious. I was gonna beat the shit out of these guys if they hurt my brother.

I tried to breathe deeply, tried to calm myself down so I could think. I considered my options, and realised sadly that I didn't actually have any. As I fought desperately against the tears threatening to fall from my stinging eyes, I realised that the van was slowing down. The gargantuans must've realised too, cause suddenly they were moving. The one next to me, whom I was now lovingly referring to in my head as 'Uber Dick', grabbed my head and manhandled a bag over it roughly.

I growled and snapped my teeth at him, but that only earned me a swift punch to the side of the head and the bag being yanked down over my face even more angrily.

I was jerked from the van by a thick hand on my bicep. I was dragged across gravel, barely able to pick up my feet for myself. I couldn't see a thing through the cloth over my face and that bugged me. I couldn't stand not knowing where I was.

Then again, where abouts in the backwoods of this town was I aware of a place that had a gravelled entrance? Probably seeing where I was wouldn't help anyway.

Tugged and yanked for a few more minutes, I concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. I concentrated on the sound of Mikey's breathing, ready to lash out if I heard so much as a sigh from him.

I was doing pretty well with the whole walking thing until we hit stairs. My feet dropped out from underneath me as the ground disappeared. My knees cracked against solid stone steps, but I wasn't given any time to recover. Uber Dick simply carried on walking, dragging me down the steps on my knees. I yelped and tried to stand, but I didn't have the chance.

Every time my knees struck the steps, pain sparked up my tired body. Where the fuck where we going? We were going downwards, but we'd never gone into a house.

We were heading into some backwoods bunker. Oh god, this was a horror movie in the making.

Finally, the stairs ended and I heard the creak of metal. Suddenly, I was thrown haphazardly into a room. I skidded against concrete flooring, my hands scraping painfully against the ground. I heard footsteps in front of me, and then I was being turned around and pulled to my feet. I wavered where I stood, but managed not to fall.

Someone behind me made a metallic snick! and I was instantly reminded of Boy Scout campouts, of campfires, of...penknives. I gulped, my breathing picking up again as a thousand images of what was going to happen with that knife flickered through my brain.

Then, my hands were yanked away from my body – twisting my shoulders painfully, might I add – and the ropes around them were cut. My arms dropped suddenly to my sides, blood filling my hands in a rush of stinging relief.

Someone kicked me in the back of the shin, making me drop to my knees. Then the bag disappeared from my face and I was staring at a blank concrete wall. I heard scuffling behind me and then that creaking metal again. A threatening clang! echoed eerily through the small room.

I span on my knees, ending up on my ass facing what I could see now was an enormous, heavy-duty metal door. Uber Dick grinned maliciously at me through the small window at the top of the door, and then disappeared out of view.

That was how we'd ended up in this shit hole. Mikey'd woken up about a half hour after that – he'd also had his ropes cut and the bag removed from his head – completely disoriented. He'd sobbed silently against my shoulder for a while as I hugged him closed, then he'd somehow calmed himself down and had extricated himself from my grip.

I wish he'd given me a clue how to calm down, since I'd spent the next god-knows-how-long pacing that 6-foot by 6-foot hell until I'd decided it'd be a good idea to jump the enormous Mob bodyguard.

Good one, Gerard.

I was knocked out of my reverie by the sound of yet more footsteps coming into the room. Seriously, were more guards necessary? It was pretty pathetic actually. Or, it would be if these guys were so fucking scary. Not that I was scared.

Terrified out of my fucking mind, more like.

The footsteps coming down the hall outside the cell now were different to those of the heavy-set guards thumping feet. They were...sort of delicate? They sounded purposeful and light, like those of someone who knew they were important.

The man who strode through the door next was just...unbelievable. You know in every tacky Mob movie, there's that Mob boss? That short, Italian, fat guy with that air of superiority about him?

That guy was standing right in front of me. It was like this guy had been picked purely to follow the stereotype. I would've laughed if I hadn't been so sure that I'd get a kick in the teeth for it.

Instead, I bit down hard on my lip and glared at his shoes – perfectly polished black loafers – willing the nervous giggles threatening to burst free from free to disappear. Mikey must've seen that something was wrong, because he shuffled closer to me and nudged my hard in the ribs with his elbow. Fucking pointy elbow, might I add.

I grunted and frowned at him, but at least the giggles were gone. He retorted with a scathing look that was quite clearly the universal 'shut your fucking mouth' look. My brother, always so good with the looks. Then again, the boy hardly ever spoke with actual words, so he'd have to be pretty damn good.

I looked up at the man again, hoping I could do so with a more sober attitude this time. Fortunately – or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it – the guy was glaring at me so intensely that I didn't find him remotely amusing anymore. Apparently he'd learnt how to detract attention away from his height.

I'd have gulped, but this wasn't a horror movie and I wasn't a fucking girl. He was wearing the same black suit as his men - because this guy was obviously the boss of this...thing - though his was clearly more expensive. He was somehow intimidating, and I couldn't figure out why. He was tiny, I mean even I could've knocked him out, there was nothing about him that should be scary. Then again, it could have something to do with his minions.

The procession still hadn't finished, though these next footsteps were yet more different. They were shuffling and reluctant, completely the opposite of the boss'. They sounded like those of a grumpy teenager.

Which, I found out when the person the footsteps belonged to entered the room, was correct. If I was shocked when the boss had walked in the room, I was fucking astounded now.

Perhaps a little over five and a half feet, chin-length black hair and sparkling hazel eyes so gorgeous I couldn't stand to look away, the boy who slumped into the room now couldn't have been any different to the other gang members if he'd tried. He looked about eighteen, my age, and was glaring at the ground like it had done something to personally wrong him.

His face looked simultaneously adorably young and impossibly old. He was wearing the same black suit as the boss, but he looked so much fucking better in it. I noticed vaguely that he was wearing Converse instead of the loafers the boss wore, and that made him about a thousand times hotter in my perspective.

Yeah, I have a thing for Converse - you don't like it, then don't wear them.

I realised I was staring when the boy's head jerked up and his eyes caught mine. My breath froze in my lungs and I dropped my eyes to the floor. I concentrated on my boots like they were the most interesting footwear in the world, all to avoid his eyes.

Oh god, I realised suddenly, I was crushing on my kidnapper...That was wrong on so many levels. It was some sort of syndrome, right? Stock-something-or-other. Then again, I was pretty sure it took longer than thirty seconds to kick in.

Suddenly, the boss was talking. His voice was rich, and impossible to tune out. He'd be one hell of a story-teller, I decided. You know, when he wasn't kidnapping people.

'Mr Way, I presume?' It wasn't posed as a question.

I stared up at my captor, wondering just how rhetorical his question was. Was I expected to speak? To nod? Maybe I should lie, tell them I was someone else? Whatever I was expected to do, I knew it wasn't to stare at the young guy behind the boss. Believe me, I was trying really hard not to do that, but god was it hard.

'You must be Gerard,' he continued, nodding at me, 'meaning you are Mikey.'

I snarled as he looked at Mikey. No one got to call him that, not unless they were family or wanted their noses broken. Not that I was in much of a position for nose-breaking, but still. If I wasn't stuck in a cell and my body didn't ache like crazy, I'd have been all over the bitch.

I'd like to have been all over the young guy, but in a totally different way...

Concentrate, Gerard!

'I take it you boys are unaware as to why you are here?' the boss asked smoothly, casually, like this was a conversation he had all the time.

Then again, maybe it was. I realised too late that an answer was expected of me.

'Come, come, boys. Don't be shy. I won't hurt you.' he promised.

I let out a bark of shocked laughter at that, which earned me three furious glares, one raised eyebrow from the boss and...Was that a smirk from HotBod? A flourish of pride filled me suddenly with that. Oh god, I was in too deep already.

Not that being trapped in a basement by some sort of Mob stereotype wasn't too deep.

'Ah, I'll take that to mean that my men were not exactly...gentle with you?' the boss guessed.

'Thank you, Captain Obvious.' I muttered.

As soon as I'd said it, I regretted it. I scrunched my eyes closed and waited for some sort of beating. I heard the sudden scuffing of heavy boots and then I was being yanked to my feet to a hand wrapped tightly around my throat. My eyes flew open as I gasped and scratched and pulled at the hand, to no avail. My head cracked back against the wall with a sickening crunch! and then something was trickling down the back of my neck...blood? Oh God.

Mikey yelped and leapt up to jump the guy, but was instantly picked from the air by another guard and restrained like me.

Hissing and spitting, I aimed a sharp kick at the guy's shin. The guy's unbelievably rock-hard, unmoving shin. I choked out a gasping sob as pain rocketed up my foot and jarred my knee. What were these guys made of, fucking concrete? Maybe Mikey and I had somehow happened upon some kind of mutant group. You know, like X Men: Kidnapping Edition. It'd be just our luck really.

'Now, now boys. No need to be so rough.' announced the boss, his deep voice calm but loud above the scuffling.

The guard holding Mikey backed off instantly and returned to his place by the door, but my guy wasn't quite so cooperative. Instead, his grip on my throat tightened and he moved his face into my personal space, his eyes narrowing and his breath utterly rancid. I considered offering him a breath mint, but I didn't think it'd be a smart move. Plus, I was sort of being throttled.

'He disrespected you, Sir.' he hissed in my face, spittle coating my face.

'Yes, I am quite aware of that,' the boss replied quietly, stepping forward to place a controlling hand on the guy's shoulder, 'but I think I can handle myself. I am, after all, not a child.'

Realising the implications of his actions, the guy yanked his hand back from my throat - dropping me heavily onto the stone floor.

'N-no, Sir! That wasn't what I was saying!' he stuttered, practically whimpering in his urgent need to make this right.

I'd have laughed at the sight - this beast begging for mercy from a man he could've bench pressed - but I was a little busy, what with the excruciating pain shooting across my ass from the impact.

My throat stung like crazy, and my bad mood from this morning...well, let's just say there hadn't been any improvement. Today was so not my day.

'Calm down, man.' the boss ordered, clearly irritated.

He mumbled under his breath unintelligibly then regained his composure suddenly and looked back at me. His eyes, dark and menacing, bore into my skull. I fought the urge to close my eyes, desperate to get away from that judging glare. No wonder the guards were in fucking pieces around him.

'Now, Gerard, I believe I asked you a question.' he reminded me, one of his thick eyebrows raising slowly.

'What is this fucking place?' I croaked, rubbing my sore neck.

Well, what else was I going to say? I didn't know what answer he was looking for, and I had some questions of my own. Right now, I wanted to get a clue about where I was - so maybe I'd have some chance of escaping. Also, if I answered his question, it would be like giving in to him.

Sure, antagonising your kidnappers was never a good idea, but I couldn't let this guy think he'd won. I had my pride after all.

'Also,' I added, knowing for sure that this next comment wasn't going to do any good, 'just a question, but should I be worried for the safety of my ass?'

I cracked a grin, hoping it looked more genuine than it felt. Because really, I was more than a little worried. Two teenage boys help captive by a group of large, intimidating men in the woods - don't pretend that you weren't thinking it.

'Depends,' growled the guy whose hand prints were still embedded in my neck, leaning in so close I could see his tonsils bob as he talked, 'you offering, faggot?'

His hand found my hair and yanked my head sideways so my head was jerked awkwardly onto my shoulder. His breath fell thickly on my ear when he moved yet closer.

'Don't go wishing, it might just happen.' he hissed threateningly, so only I could hear it.

Fuck. Note to self: gang members did not respond well to sarcasm. Or comments on their sexuality. Or any sort of attitude. Really, one day these things were going to sink in. Right now wasn't going to be that day, unfortunately.

'Looking forward to it, fucker.' I snapped, my voice surprisingly strong compared to the weakness I was feeling.

At that, the hand in my hair disappeared. Before I could do any kind of mental victory dance however, a thick fist was being driven deep into my gut. I coughed and doubled over, landing on my knees on the hard floor. Blood filled my mouth and spilled out onto my jeans. These were my good jeans as well - even if they were covered in dust and torn at the knees.

Hey, that's how I roll. Scruffy chic and all that. Not that my fashion sense meant much right now. All that really mattered was that my insides had just exploded and I was having trouble breathing. The black spots in my vision couldn't mean anything good either.

'I told you to calm down!' barked the boss, his quiet voice angry enough to defeat any full-bellied bellow.

The guard didn't reply this time, just backed away and stomped at the floor like a toddler who'd had their favourite toy taken away. The idea of me being his favourite toy...there weren't enough shivers in the world to convey my feelings on that.

I swayed slightly on my knees, blind behind my hair which had helpfully plastered itself across my face. My stomach churned painfully and I felt bile crawl up my throat, but I swallowed it down quickly. I was not going to embarrass myself by puking. It was just not going to happen.

I lifted my head slowly as it seemed to have put on a lot of weight in the last minute. I glanced up at the men scattered across the room - noticing that strangely there seemed to be twice as many as before. There were even two bosses, though they looked completely the same. They were even joined together at the arm! Now that was a trick if you could pull it off.

Oh right, double-vision. Smooth, Gerard, totally smooth.

The faces of the group were generally bored, with the odd eye roll thrown in. All except for the young one, who now seemed to be glowing softly I realised. He looked like an angel, or he would if he'd turn to face me. He'd turned his back on the action.

Fucking coward, I decided. Couldn't even watch his own victim get beaten up. Coward, for sure.

I tried to glare at him, but my facial muscles weren't up to playing hardball it appeared. Plus, glaring at someone's back doesn't often do much good. Unless they had eyes on the back of their head.

I was sure my mother had eyes on the back of her head. She always seemed to know what I was doing even when she wasn't looking at me. She called it her 'motherly instinct' which was total bullshit. The woman couldn't even make toast without setting the toaster on fire, and sadly I'm not exaggerating.

Something sparked in the back of my brain then. Well, it was more like a slow throb of light, since my brain clearly wasn't up to full capacity right then. Anyway, whatever it was, it was telling me that I hadn't seen my mom since last night. So surely, she'd have to be worried about Mikey and me by now. Right?

Dad would probably assume we'd run off, being the rebellious teens he was convinced we were, that we'd stumble in some time after dark. Mom was the one who'd get worried. Though she did have a tendency to be sort of...flighty, i guess you'd call it. She'd be just about to worry about us, then she'd realise she needed to check on some eBay bid or something and she'd forget.

I really hoped she wasn't forgetting about us right now. That'd really suck. To be kidnapped is bad enough, but to be kidnapped and then forgotten? That's kind of a bitch.

Woah, concentrate Gerard! I realised that the whole time I'd been thinking about Mom and that glowing guy and the gang's facial expressions, they'd been trying to get my attention.

I could see them yelling in my direction, their mouths wide open, but the sound was muffled and far away, like I was hearing them from under water. I shook my head and my hearing cleared a little, but it was still hard to pick up on.

'It appears...not up to...Let's go...son, you have...training...' all this was coming from the boss, who appeared to be leaving.

Yeah, I realised as he disappeared through the doorway, he was definitely leaving. I wondered slowly over the use of 'son'. Did that mean that the hot guy I'd been staring at, the fucking yellow-belly, was the boss's son?

I watched as the procession trailed out of the room, not quite understanding what was happening. I did however understand that the way the young guy's ass moved in those trousers was very interesting.

Brilliant. I was crushing on a mob boss's son. The guy was dangerous and a coward and I should hate him.

Instead, I was remembering his eyes. They were so pretty...

And then I guess I passed out, because when I woke up Mikey was fussing over me like my own little Florence Nightingale. He didn't seem to find that comment as funny as I did, but that could've been due to the concussion I was possibly harbouring.