Scott, I'll love you forever.
Chapter 11 part 1
Hoping For Sun and Praying for Rain.
Logan paced back and forth in the meeting room his hands shoved deep in his pockets. Hank watched his progress with keen eyes, "The Professor says he's in the city."
"Where in the city?" Logan said stopping mid-stride and fixing his stormy eyes on Hank.
"Back at the brothel."
"Why would he go back there?" Remy asked leaning his head on his fist and rubbing his eyes.
"He wouldn't." Logan growled resuming his pacing.
"I wouldn't be so sure Logan, After all it's a familiar place, he knows he can get food and shelter there, even if it wasn't completely conches I think he may well have sot out the place subconsciously."
Logan slammed is hands down on the table and glared at Hank, "I'm telling you Hank," he growled between gritted teeth, "He wouldn't go back there, not by choice."
Hank stared at Logan for a moment then looked at Remy for some sort of support, on finding none Hank looked back at Logan and sighed, "And I was merely saying that he may not have even known it himself."
Logan shook his head and started to pace again, "So what are we going to do?"
"Well it's not like I can just waltz up the front steps and take Scott back, they know my face." Hank said shaking his head and shuffling the papers that sat in front of him.
"Why do anything?" Remy asked plucking at a piece of paper, "He ran off, why should we go after him?"
Remy was on his feet before he knew it Logan's fist wedged under his chin the cold sharp metal of his claws pricking him.
"LOGAN!" Hank shouted jumping to his feet.
"Because this is where he belongs." Logan snarled.
"Logan put Remy down!"
"With people that love him. With people that respect him." Logan continued slamming Remy's back against the wall.
Remy was trying to push Logan's arm away desperately but Logan's muscles were hard as rocks and immoveable.
"Ok! OK! Remy Gets it!" Remy gasped franticly. Logan dropped him and cast a final glare at Hank before stalking out. Logan lit a cigar with shaking hands; he looked at the road and inhaled deeply letting the nicotine sooth his jittery mind.
Scott sat in his room his stomach had stopped growling an hour ago and he had fallen into a hazy sleep. His feet throbbed and his back ached from the beating he had taken. There was a curt knock on his door that startled him from his sleep. The room was dim but Scott could make out Mr. Levred's form among the few that stood in the door way, "Are you feeling more cooperative now Scott?"
Scott felt the sharp pain in his back and nodded slowly. The two men that flanked Mr. Levred came forward hauling Scott to his feet and carried him by the arms down the hall into a large bathroom. Here Scott was stripped of his clothes and he stood in the cold stuffy air until he could no long endure the pain in his feet and he kneeled wrapping is arms around himself and choking back tears as the hot water hit his back. Steam filled the room and Scott knelt like a lamb on the tile floor. His skin was snow white in the florescent lights and the two men that had undressed him moved closer once again.
Mr. Levred moved to the door as the men began to bait Scott. The first pulled Scott's head up and smiled wickedly into his face, "Mr. Levred says you've got to be broken."
Scott shook his head feebly. He extended his hands to touch the man's legs, his long fingers searching for some strand of humanity in him. Scott couldn't see his reaction his glasses had been taken from him with his clothes and he waited in darkness hoping for mercy. That was how it had always been faceless and pitiless; until Logan had come into his life. Logan's face swam in Scott's mind's eye, the memory of his large hands on his face, that smile of his, that toothy grin. It was years, decades, centuries sense he had seem that smile, sense he had felt those lips.
The Second man had a belt in his hand, the leather was wet now and he gripped the length in his hands, "He seems pretty passive to me."
"Mr. Levred said he needed to be broken." The first murmured huskily Scott's head was jerked farther back and he felt the tip of the speakers Cock on his lips. He remained motionless his lips sealed against the invasion, "Go on then, you don't want breaking show me you don't need it."
Scott pushed the man away turning his head away and yanking his head back. Scott felt the bight of the belt within seconds; blood began to circle the drain as they beat him. Someone was rubbing soap in the cuts and Scott screamed tearing desperately at the shins of the men trying to get any sort of leverage.
"Hold him down." One said to the other. This command was fallowed by Scott's head being forced to the floor. The soap suds eased some of the pain but what the rapist lacked in friction he made up in ferocity.
The water was shut off he didn't know when.
He was in a cage. The metal beneath his knees was cold the bars were small and in a grid. Scott stretched his fingers between the bars feeling for a latch. He felt a sharp pain in his knuckles as they were whipped. Scott pulled his hands back tucking them close to his body. The air was cold and he shivered warm blood still pooling in the cuts on his back.
There was no light in the room; it was always cold and dark. Every two hours Scott would hear voices around him, he would hear shuffling foot steps and he knew he was in for more abuse. They would start by rattling the cage, harder and harder until Scott was tossed about like a child. Then they would drag him out of the cage and have their way with him and when they were satisfied they would toss him back in the cage bruised and bloody and set a bowl of soup in front of the cage. Scott could smell the pungent drink and his stomach would growl with starvation and the room would fill with laughter.
Scott was asleep; he had finally fallen asleep when the shuffling started again. The voices grew until the shaking started Scott was jolted awake and he lifted his head only to have it be battered against the side of the cage.
"That's enough." Mr. Levred barked, coming over to the cage and looking in at Scott as if viewing a puppy up for adoption, "Are you ready to be a good boy?"
Scott nodded reaching his fingers threw the cage to try and brush the tips against Mr. Levred's jacket or face.
"I need to here you promise me." Mr. Levred said a chuckle in his voice.
"I'll be good." Scott said his voice weak from a dry throat. The cage door opened and Scott fell to the floor at Mr. Levred's feet.
"I'm very sad that we had to do this to you Scott, I'm very upset."
"What can I do to make you happy sir?" Scott asked quietly wrapping his thin arms around the man's leg feeling the clean crisp pant's leg under his grimy cheek.
"Seeing you like this makes me very hard Scott. I think you know what you need to do." He replied that same cold chuckle in his voice. Scott rose to his knees and undid Mr. Levred's pants. Laughter filled the room but the loudest belonged to Mr. Levred he grasped Scott's head and tossed him to the floor and redid his pants, "Get him cleaned up and make sure he gets a good meal tonight." He then turned his attention back to Scott who lay motionless on the floor, "Tomorrow you're going to get fitted for a big party, you should be happy I'm willing to forgive you this fast."
Logan was in a restless mood he couldn't sleep for nightmares, not about his own past but his own imagination showing him images of Scott. He couldn't eat for the disgust he had in himself for driving Scott away. There was no reason to leave except for him. He'd thought on it time and again; a thousand times in an hour and there was no other way. He'd spent a week in this limbo where he paced around the mansion in a foul mood, snarling at any one that came close enough to talk to him.
Midnight was fast approaching and Logan still could not sleep he lay in bed gazing up at the ceiling his mind turning over his possibilities. He could wait for Hank and the Professor to make a decision. That could take months for them to finally make a move. Or Logan could risk everything to go and get Scott himself. There was no contest in Logan's mind.
He jumped out of bed and opened his door slowly slipping out into the dark hallway he stole off to the garage and looked at all of the cars that sat in it. As his eyes swept the room they fell on the air brush.
The black Ford Mustang GT would do well for his purposes. He began to strip the car of its paint. The car finally stood bare and plane Logan picked up his air brush and began to disguise the beautiful machine. After the car was covered in a dull powder blue he began to sand down the bumper and adding a coat of brown and red to make a rather convincing rust mark. Logan stood back to look at the car, it was near unrecognizable. Next he took the plates off and stowed them in the glove box with his wrench. Then he started the car pulling it out of the garage and driving it down the drive out onto the road. There was a farm not far from the mansion and Logan idled the Mustang in front of their drive. He cut the engine and got out crouching looking at their drive and finally finding the old pickup the farmer drove. In silents Logan took the trucks plates and brought them back to the car.
The plates being secured Logan drove the car along the road towards the city. The Bank opened at 6 AM and closed at 10 PM and at 7:45 PM eastern standard time an armored truck came to pick up the cash from the vault. It was true that it was more profitable to hold up a fast food place but in this part of the nation people got pretty upset when somebody tried to mess with their burger and fries. Logan parked his car in a museum parking lot buying himself a week's parking pass. The woman smiled kindly at him while he made small talk about how he and his children were here for the month and all his little girl wanted to do was look at the great classic artists.
Everything was falling into place.
Logan sat on a bench across the street from the bank, one count of bank robbery, two possible counts of grand theft auto, one count of Assault, one count of participating in prostitution, if things went south possible murder charges, and several counts of petty thievery. If this failed and he was caught, he was going to spend the rest of his life in prison. Logan didn't have to brace himself against doubt, he didn't even have to push out of his mind the fact that he liked his life as is, there was only one thing that mattered and his name was Scott Summers.
The armored car pulled up to the bank and an individual got out and moved into the bank. Logan stood up and walked to the thick driver's side door. The driver sat his fingers tapping the steering wheel and Logan wrenched the door open grabbing the young man and tossing him into traffic. A car slammed to a halt in front of the young man and as he sprung up to attack Logan his partner came running out, the young man must have activated his distress buzzer and his partner foolish as he was tossed the money into the back of the truck and jumped in after securing the doors. Logan pulled away quickly the faceless young man firing his hand gun twice at the truck.
"You ok Marti?" the other man asked shakily. Logan shook his head, "Marti is back at the bank." They pulled on to the interstate weaving between cars and Logan reached across the cab and tossed open the passenger side door and pushed the young man out. With that done Logan yanked the door closed again and pulled off the ski mask he had slipped on just before attacking the young man named Marti. There were so many things wrong with this robbery, not the least of which was the stupidity of the two armored car divers.
Logan pulled off the interstate and went to the back and started to set stacks of money into his back pack. Four million dollars should buy his way to what he wanted. Then Logan locked the back doors and went to the cab and opened up the dash. He pulled out the GPS tracking system. If he wanted to get away with any of this he was going to need that.
The fabric of the pants Scott was pulling on was soft and clean. He could hear the jazz music playing in the room adjacent to his and Mr. Levred opened the door walking strait to Scott.
"So slow." He complained under his breath as he shoved Scott's shirt into his pants and fixed the collar, "this costumer is a big spender with us. If you mess tonight up I will make your life a living hell Scott, my forgiveness only goes so far."
A hard swallow from Scott was all Mr. Levred waited for until he shoved Scott towards the door and opened the door fixing a smug smirk to his face. The room was full of Afghani cigarette smoke; the pungent smoke spiraled to the ceiling. There was a slim man sitting on the couch eyeing Mr. Levred his suit jacket was open revealing a fine linen shirt.
Mr. Levred and the man conversed for a short time in a language Scott didn't know and didn't care to identify and then the man stood grinding what was left of his cigarette out in the ash try and walked over to Scott and plucked at the young man's shirt looking him over silently.
"Do you like to gamble?" he finally asked. He picked up a glass of scotch and took a drink as Scott stood silent thinking over the question.
"I don't gamble much myself but I'm very lucky to those that do Sir."
Mr. Levred chuckled casting the man a knowing look and as Scott looked over the man's countenance a smirk grew, "Very lucky hum? We'll see." He turned to look at Mr. Levred, "I'll take him for the night."
"Very good." Mr. Levred murmured and opened a notebook computer, "You'll wire the money to this account, Rahim."
Rahim nodded only glancing at the screen and waving his hand in an uninterested way, "Money is no object Levred." He then thrust his arm out and Scott took it and walked placidly by Rahim's side to the door. As they passed the threshold Scott caught a last glimpse of Mr. Levred's face, it had turned serious again and his sharp cold eyes fallowed him closely.
The party was a lively one 'gentlemen' walked about with young men ands women draped on their arms or on their laps. The diva sang a catchy jazz song that nobody was listening too. Rahim sat at a black jack table and smirked at Scott, "we'll see if you are as lucky as you say." he murmured producing a cigarette and gazing at Scott with lightly blood shot eyes. Scott smiled lazily and reached in Rahim's pocket and produced his lighter and held it up for him, "I'm very lucky Sir."
Rahim put his arm around Scott's waist and pulled him into his lap. Scott put his arm around Rahim's neck and watched the game lazily while running his fingers threw the hair on the back side of Rahim's head.
The night was cold and Logan pulled the collar of his coat up to shelter himself from the cold. He stepped into the lobby of the hotel and set his briefcase down on the check in counter, "I'm here for the party." He said fishing in his pocket for a slip of paper he had taken from Hank's pile.
"You have your half million buy in then?"
"Yes," Logan flipped open the briefcases and pulled out several of the piles of bills and laid them out for her to check. She smiled and nodded for him to enter the party. Logan closed the briefcase and adjusted his tie, "I'm looking for Mr. Levred."
"He'll be in the hookah lounge Sir."
Logan nodded and plunged into the party; he stalked around clumps of affluent patrons and finally found the hookah lounge. Mr. Levred sat sucking slowly on the smoke from his azure hookah listening to the talk of the patrons that sat around him with their merchandise. Logan walked over to Mr. Levred and set his briefcase quietly at his feet, "I'd like to buy some time with one of your boys."
Mr. Levred's lips twisted up slightly and he set the hookah down and stood heading towards the door and looked out on the party, "which one did you have in mind?"
Logan scanned the crowd until his eyes lighted on the back of Scott's head, "the brown haired one, the one wearing the sun glasses."
Mr. Levred frowned a bit and shook his head, "I'm sorry sir but I'm afraid He's working at the moment, perhaps I can interest you in the young blond over there at the bar. He's very flexible."
"No, I very stuck on the brown haired boy; I'll pay 3 million for an hour with him."
Mr. Levred considers the offer for a moment then looked at Logan shrewdly, "30 minutes."
"45 minutes."
Mr. Levred considered it for a moment longer and nodded slowly, "alright 45 minutes. Go on up to the second floor to room 205 in about 10 minutes." With that he walked off into the crowded party. Logan took his briefcase and made his way to the stairs where he skulked about until he couldn't keep still any longer and he began to climb the stairs. He came off the landing into an ornate hall and a ruff looking man stood out side the door of the room 205 and Logan handed him the briefcase and opened the door.
Scott sat with his shirt open on the bed; his glasses were sitting on the low table on the other side of the room. Logan went to him and pulled the young man close to him.
Scott felt strong arms around him and he smelt the spicy cigar smoke he knew so well. His heart began to race, then he felt those all too familiar lips on his own. Scott's knees went soft as Logan kissed him. Logan let Scott slump back on the bed and went for the young man's glasses. Scott felt the cold metal on his face and opened his eyes eagerly to see Logan's face. A jolt of electricity went up his spine as he saw the familiar face. Logan locked Scott in another kiss and they tumbled on to the bed holding each other in a vice grip. Scott finally broke away breathlessly and looked at Logan quizzically, "how did you--?"
"I robbed a bank." Logan said knitting his eye brows and hauling Scott to his feet, "speaking of which we should probably get out of here soon."
"Why?"
"The cops are coming."