Chapter 97 - Reflections in Black
A groggy Hugh awakes to discover he is in the playroom - and he is not alone...
Back to Chapter 96
Arm yourself because no one else here will save you
The odds will betray you
And I will replace you
You can't deny the prize it may never fulfill you
It longs to kill you
Are you willing to die?
The coldest blood runs through my veins
You know my name
'You Know My Name' Chris Cornell
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PU7J5MSIr6U
They had decided to handcuff him to the bed when they had arrived back at Freeman's. Hugh hadn't really focused on much of it; his head was still fuzzy from the drugs and his stomach was swirling uncomfortably. He found his legs were proving pretty disobedient as well as he was taken from the cart and led through the interchangeable corridors, and had to focus on getting them to walk in a straight line to avoid bouncing off the walls. A strong hand on his shoulder and arm gave him enough stability to navigate his way, and Hugh had settled willingly enough on the bed.
Half an hour later and he was no longer quite as comfortable. Hugh gently moved his hands and heard the 'click-click' sound of the bonds striking the bed frame. He frowned upwards uncertainly. Hadn't he only had one hand fastened to the bed frame rather than two? Hugh shifted on the bed and found his movements were even more restricted, his battered ribs objecting to any activities that involved flexibility. The room was also eerily silent, the outside world remaining firmly outside, and Hugh was slowly, horribly aware he was resting in the lair where the torturer liked to ply his trade. They could do anything in here and it would be a private secret, just between themselves.
Hugh felt a cold, icy sensation trickle down his spine, although he forced himself to stay focused. They could have easily beaten him senseless at the barn, after all. On the other hand, they had a lot of 'toys' to play with at the house...
His gaze travelled slowly around the room. He had been fastened to a huge, elaborately decorated bed, that had apparently stolen the world's supply of bright red shiny fabric. The colour scheme was exotic, bright and glossy, and yet with a dark hint that reminded whoever was looking at it that such luxury came with a price. Hugh looked across at the erotic images and figures that often left little to the imagination, and then at the dark wooden chests and drawers which suggested that the occupants had a definite need for storage.
And then, of course, there were a few large items in the corners of the room, draped with silken fabrics to hide their presence. Hugh frowned harder, and tried to pretend he hadn't seen the leather strap that appeared to be attached to the ..bench? Hadn't he seen something like that being used when he was drunk with Vin?
He shook himself mentally and scowled up at the darkened ceiling. All he was doing was increasing his own paranoia. Eric seemed sure that he could convince them, and even a house with a dungeon like this rarely had actual working cells. This was just a temporary situation whilst the others discussed the problem in comfortable surroundings, and then they would-
A movement suddenly grabbed his attention, Hugh's hands 'click-clicking' again as he jumped. He had assumed he had been alone in the room, but there had been so many shadows and items that it had been hard to see, and no one just lurked around silently unless they were insane.
"Who's there?" He was fucked if he was going to just jump at shadows. If he was going to jump, he was going to find a damned good reason first.
"Please be quiet. I have a headache and your voice is grating enough as-is." Naveen had been tasked with watching the prisoner, and while he understood that this was something that showed the owner's high respect in him, the mere sight of Jackman was making him feel like a clock that was wound too tightly.
Marton had only bound one of Jackman's wrists, but shortly after the proprietor had left, Naveen had shackled the other to the headboard. The man was dangerous, and god only knew what he could do with even one hand free. It wasn't as if Jackman deserved any less. And it was only until the proprietors decided his final fate.
Naveen had to remind himself that. Only a few more hours, and then whatever would need to be done would be done. Jackman would be punished for the harm he did to Joshua and the household, and then Naveen would be able to wash his hands of the whole affair.
He had shifted in his chair, an ornate beast tucked into a dark cranny for voyeurs, uncomfortable because of both the situation and the growing tension at the back of his skull. Naveen shifted once more, desperate to get comfortable but knowing that true relaxation wouldn't come until Jackman was one with the authorities, or back on a boat to his native Australia.
Rubbing his temples, Naveen stood, and neared the bed. He looked over the man sprawled there, and sneered.
Disgusting.
Hugh's eyes narrowed at the sight of the man who the house employed to torture people on demand. One hand curled around its bond, giving it a little test before releasing it again. It was far too strong for him to escape.
God. Out of everyone, this man was definitely not someone he wanted to see. Even a furious Vin would have been preferable; sure, Hugh probably would have ended up in a bloody heap, but at least it would have made Vin feel better as a result. This guy could probably torture for hours just as something to do on his lunch break.
"Sorry about my voice. I have a nasty tendency to talk when tied to a bed," Hugh replied dryly, resisting the urge to start singing. If this man was planning to make him suffer, then it was Hugh's solemn duty to return the favour. He studied him for a moment longer, then decided not to beat around the bush.
"Why are you here?"
"I should have gagged you when I had the chance." Naveen sighed, regretting the decision but knowing it was the right one. Knowing that Hugh had recently been drugged meant that it was necessary to keep his mouth clear, in case he vomited. Having Jackman choke to death on his own bile would be a most unsatisfactory death.
Finally answering Jackman's question, Naveen posed a question of his own. "Why do you think I'm here? You know why you're here, I assume."
Waiting. Naveen hated waiting. Prolonging an experience, yes. Hanging in anticipation for hours while you awaited pleasure, yes. But he positively could not stand this state of inactive limbo as he awaited someone else's decision. A decision that, despite Marton being fully aware of Naveen's feelings on the subject, he doubted he would approve of.
At least when he kept a client waiting, it always had a pleasurable end.
Jackman fell silent as he considered his answer. There was every possibility that the man was simply here to make sure he didn't escape, or to check on him after the affects of the drugs died down. He doubted whether the torturer had any vulnerability to pleading or persuasion, given his work, and that made him an excellent guard. That's what it would be, surely? If Marton wanted him to be punished, then Hugh had no doubt he would know exactly what type of punishment he was getting, and would be watched by more than just this man.
Still... the paranoia tugged at him, whispering all types of horrible suggestions. Hugh's dubious gaze travelled down Naveen's body then back up again. God, what sort of 'experiences' had this man inflicted in his time at the house?
"I assume you're just a guard... right?" he said finally, going for the less alarming answer.
"I'm not just anything." Naveen's lips flattened into a thin line, displeased with whatever insinuation Jackman was making. It may just be from the gathering tension in his head, but the tentative look Jackman was giving him seemed to imply that the man actually thought Naveen might be there for something much more. Naveen resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
If there was one thing that Naveen hated more than someone who was willing to do what Jackman did, it was that same person, but without the sense in his head to realize that Naveen didn't actually harm people.
"Now I have requested that you keep your mouth shut. Don't make me ask again. I want these next few hours to go as smoothly as possible."
Naveen looked down on Jackman for another beat, before circling the bed and heading in the direction of the chest of drawers that contained some of his toys. Then suddenly, Naveen the urge to organize his knife collection. And, well, whatever Jackman got from it... it would serve him right for making assumptions about a lifestyle that was not his own.
"Next few hours?" Hugh repeated with a sick feeling in his stomach. The first thing he was going to do was spend the day stretching if he ever got out of this; his body felt stiff and awkward as it was, without adding extra time tied to a bed. He had a horrible feeling he was going to need the toilet soon as well, which wasn't assisting.
He watched the man circle the bed like a vulture trying to decide on the juiciest piece of meat to steal, and attempted to keep his mouth shut. Normally that wasn't a problem, but there was something about the torturer that he couldn't quite put a finger on.
As the other man neared the storage and began to carefully look through the items, Hugh's need to pin down the sensation suddenly got a lot less important. He leaned forward as far as the bonds would let him, surprise stamped in his eyes as he saw a flash of light sparkle from something metallic.
"Is that a knife?" he asked in utter disbelief.
"That is a ridiculous question that I won't deign to answer." The knife, one of several, was more for show than anything. It wasn't overly big, but it was spectacular to look at. And he did keep it incredibly sharp, in case a customer was interested in a little blood play, or in one memorable case, scarification.
Strop in hand, Naveen began sharpening the blade. He kept one eye on the man on the bed as he did so, a silent warning to keep him from speaking out of turn.
"If you insist on talking, you could at least say something useful."
Knives in the bedroom. Of course that made perfect sense with this sort of man. He probably couldn't get an erection without a little bit of blood somewhere... Hugh looked at the other man carefully, then shook himself mentally. Jesus, where did they find this guy? Did they go out to find the sexiest, most violent mugger they could find and offer him a position?
"What sort of useful did you have in mind?" Hugh said instead. Verbal, at least, rarely involved sharp blades.
"The useful sort of useful. Something we can use. You managed to sneak into the bosom of a rather exclusive club. Tell me how."
Naveen thought of Joshua. It was hard not to think of him, and of the times he'd spent with Jackman. Looking briefly away from his charge, Naveen relived the moment he had seen the two of them at Sean's party. He remembered looking on Hugh, and thinking what a wonderful Dominant this man would make. If only he had known the truth.
Naveen hadn't seen Sawyer since it was discovered that Hugh was who took Eric. He knew that Joshua was hurting, both physically and mentally. People were still whispering about Naveen coming to Josh's defense.
Tearing himself from his thoughts, Naveen leveled his gaze on Jackman once more. The knife slid along the leather of the strop, the noise loud in the quiet room.
Hugh considered how to respond. The request was valid enough, sensible under the circumstance, but discussing everything that happened was liable to upset the other man further. The knife moving back and forth was distracting, a little noise of promised violence, and Jackman found his attention captured by it on more than one occasion.
"I had scouted the area for a while," Hugh said after a pause. "I knew a frontal attack on someone the size of Bana wasn't likely to work, and he rarely seemed to come out alone anyway. That meant I needed to work from the inside. As there seemed no way to get an invitation without proof of your character, I targeted a member of the club to get that proof."
He hesitated when it came to Sawyer. Everyone probably already knew who had sponsored him, but there was a very slim chance that some people might not have heard. For that slim chance, Hugh decided to hold his tongue over the identity of his target. The gambler relied on his reputation for his work, and Hugh had no doubt he had damaged that far too much already. No. The torturer probably already knew who the man was, and therefore he didn't need any further details. If he didn't, then Freeman could tell him.
"After I had convinced this one man that I was okay and needed a safe place, then I was invited to a party. From there, I could start building connections and trust to give me an opportunity to do my work," his voice was soft, low and slightly dead as he recounted what he had done. "You know the rest, I assume."
This one man. As if that was all that Josh was. Some man picked from the crowds. That he was inconsequential and that no ill effects would come as a result of Hugh's actions. Like Joshua wouldn't feel used as a result of Hugh's actions.
"There are men who believe that they are the center of the universe, quite literally. I have a feeling that you are one of these men. Everything happens to you, and everyone else is merely a supporting player. Well, let it be my solemn duty to inform you that there are no supporting players in life. Everyone else has a full, complex life that continues on even when you are not looking at them. Your actions have effects on these people.
"Do you realize what effect you've had on this house? The staff; the clients? The dozens of people whose lives you've seriously interrupted with your actions?"
Setting the strop down on the top of the chest of drawers, Naveen slid the knife past the sash that was wrapped around his waist, so that the blade hung at his side. He should just leave the man be and go back to his tasks, but this was something that Naveen would not let go easily.
"Don't you believe there should be consequences for all the people you've harmed?"
Hugh was silenced, a wash of guilt flooding through him at the other man's words. He had known he would cause distress at the house, but he had tried so hard to push that to one side in order to focus on the task in hand. One slip and it could have easily turned into violence, bloodshed and death, which he just couldn't have risked. But then he hadn't needed to risk anything at all, had he come to his decision a long time ago.
Hugh licked his lips, which had turned extremely dry. His throat felt uncomfortably tight, but he forced the words out anyway.
"I know this won't mean anything to you, but I did try to stop people getting hurt," Hugh said softly. "I didn't want to hurt anyone else physically, and I tried to make sure Eric was safe.. as much as I could, anyway. I chose a man who wanted me as a body for free casual sex rather than any emotional need, so I didn't toy with anyone's affections. I didn't realise it would all affect the house so badly,"
Only he did, deep inside. A theft from a building was bad enough, the sense of violation and vulnerability never really leaving the victims, and that was just for a trinket. To kidnap someone from a building was much worse, especially a house whose survival relied on secrecy and security. And then there was the trust he had taken and abused. Hugh had expected the whole house to come after them, daggers and weapons drawn; if that didn't speak loudly enough about how much the kidnapping affected them, there wasn't much else that would.
Hugh raised his eyes again. Apologising wasn't enough, he had always known that, and he knew it would be rightly sneered at as soon as the words left his mouth. He had to prove it in some way, but how could he possibly prove his sincerity to that extent? His debt was too large.
And the size of that debt would have been instantly recognisable to a man like Freeman, which brought a whole new meaning to being bound so firmly to the bed. Hugh tested the bonds again, which spoke clearly of distrust and strength. This didn't seem right, the luxury of the room, but he couldn't dismiss it out of hand. Colin's influence began to slowly sharpen his mind, trying to pick apart what was important and what was simply his own emotion getting in the way.
If they were going to remove him, by whatever method, then he needed to help them stop his replacement. He wished he could speak to the others, but Hugh no longer suspected that was possible. He should have spoken to Eric or Viggo whilst he had the chance at the barn, but his own uncertainty had clouded over what was important and what was merely personal. Colin would have been ashamed of him.
"Is that why I'm here? For the consequences?" his eyes moved from the knife to the other man's eyes steadily in his need to confirm.
Naveen followed Hugh's gaze to his knife, and sneered. His hand, which was still resting on the smooth, heavy handle of the blade, wrapped around it as if he were only seconds away from raising it.
"You failed, you realize. People were hurt. Physically and mentally. That man-Sawyer-was beaten unconscious for his involvement in your plan." Of course, that was not exactly how things happened, but it was true enough. Any added guilt Jackman felt thinking more than a single punch had been thrown still wouldn't be enough.
"He was innocent. You are not. If I were you, I would put myself past worrying what would be happening to me."
Drawing the knife from his sash, Naveen climbed onto the bed. He adjusted his grip so as to better wield it, and hovered above Jackman. The sharp point of the blade was pressed against the comforter, near Jackman's neck. The fabric dipped under the knife, and Naveen twisted the blade, uncaring if a small hole resulted.
If only Naveen were there to give 'consequences,' he would make Jackman pay. For the first time in his life, he truly wished another person serious harm. He wouldn't kill Jackman himself. But he would ensure that this man could never run, nor hide again. And then he would put him on a boat back to Australia. If Jackman survived the trip, then it would be whoever sent Jackman's duty to finish the deed.
A quick, indrawn breath drew Naveen's gaze to the camouflaged window of a viewing booth. It was nearly inaudible, and he only acknowledged it with a quick flick of his eyes and increasing tension in his jaw. The bartender and dealer, it had to be. No one else would dare sneak away from whatever duties they had to spy on something this private.
After a drawn out moment, Naveen removed himself from the bed, taking the knife with him. This was not a scene. This was so unlike any scene Naveen had been involved in, and it left him feeling soiled. Naveen cursed himself internally. He should not have given into Jackman's provocations. This was not a show, and he would not perform for anyone, let alone those two peeping Toms.
As he went to replace the knife, he repeated his mantra. Only a few more hours, and then he would never have to think of Jackman again.
Hugh's eyes had widened at the news of what had happened to poor Sawyer; he had wanted to believe that the conman had read the mood of the house, or simply be classified under the same 'tricked' label as Vin had been when he had helped to get Eric drugged. Sawyer had enough charm to talk his way out of any problem, but it hadn't been enough to save him - or, more likely, he hadn't been given a chance to try. Had Sawyer even realised the danger he had been placed in before they had struck? Hugh shuddered inwardly, and prayed the man would recover.
The bed dipped as the torturer climbed on to it, the blade flashing in the light and a dark hue in his eyes that burned intensely. Hugh automatically tried to move but the bonds stopped him, and given the murderous look he was receiving it was probably a good idea to remain perfectly still. Jackman's breath caught in his throat as the knife stayed so damned close, knowing that any words he said would only push the furious man further. He looked up, scanning the other man's eyes warily in preparation for whatever would happen.
As it turned out, the blade remained unbloodied. He wasn't sure that was a good or bad thing any more, not as more and more information crept out the woodwork. Hugh had wanted to repair as much as he could from his actions, but each minute told him more of the much wider picture he hadn't considered, the ripples from the initial blow he had made.
Hugh closed his eyes and took a deeper breath as the torturer withdrew, sagging against the mattress, before opening them again and looking at the stiff figure who was replacing the knife. He might not be able to pay back everything he had stolen, but there were certain things he could do, and Hugh prayed he would be given the opportunity to finish it before they took whatever revenge they wanted.
"I can give you an extra month." Hugh said softly. "Please give me a piece of paper and a pen, and release one of my hands. Preferably my right one. Then you can do whatever you like with me."
"I am neither judge nor jury. Your bargaining is wasted on me." And what guarantee was there that a month would make any difference? That a transmission would even be sent back to Australia, let alone actually arrive?
Considering actions that were taken in the past for incidents less than this, Naveen was sure that there wasn't a chance that anyone would get near Eric again. Security would be much more diligent around the house, Eric wouldn't be allowed to see any new customers, and he likely wouldn't get much privacy in the coming months.
It would be an awful, invasive process for Eric, but it was likely what they would have to do to ensure that this didn't happen again.
"Because I cannot give you anything, be it as great as a whole month or as small as a scrap of paper."
Bargaining? This desperate plea was bargaining? Hugh closed his eyes and tried to stop his frustration from showing. The damage he had done to the house was so damned great he doubted it would ever properly recover, and now there was a chance the limited things he could do would never be given to him. There was a strong possibility that the house's decision would be reached and acted upon, without giving him a chance to speak.
"Please," Hugh tried again. "Even if you don't use it, it'll be there. Take all the precautions you need, a knife at my throat, tie my feet together, whatever you want. What harm can it do?"
"I have already told you, I cannot give you anything. Nothing you say or do to me will change your fate, so do not even try."
Let Jackman bring it up to Marton. Let him be the one to decide what harm it could do. Naveen believed that enough harm had been done already. What was done was done. There was no way to repair it.
Naveen was too wound up, and too upset with his own actions, to do what he wanted and return to his chair. So he paced, slowly circling the room.
As Naveen passed the booth where the barkeep and dealer were, he slowed for one step, before increasing his pace again. He couldn't forget that everything he did and said was being observed.
"Why would you even want to offer it? It is not as if writing a single letter would let you 'off the hook,' as they say."
"Let me off the hook?" Hugh repeated, then laughed in rueful amusement. "No, it won't, so it's just as well I'm not doing it for that, isn't it? Regardless of motivations, there's no excuse for what I did, I know that, you know that, the house's cat knows that. Even if your Mr. Freeman was sympathetic, there'd have to be something done, right? You can't just kidnap one of the staff and get away with it, even if you do bring them back afterwards. It's his and the house's reputation on the line."
Hugh shifted position on the bed and winced as his ribs argued with the suggestion. However, his arms were beginning to feel more than a little achy.
"But regardless of what happens to me," Hugh sighed softly. "the guy who sent me out here is still there and still after Eric's blood. He'll send someone else, and to be honest after this he's probably just going to go for the bastards who would shoot and run rather than go through an elaborate ruse to get him alone. Hell, they'd probably take pleasure in it. At least with a letter I might be able to steer their investigation away from this house. Be better if you guys can make it look like Eric's already dead, but ...," Hugh shrugged helplessly as best he could. ".. .guess that's up to your bosses on what they want to do. They can't exactly send me back to Australia, so a letter's gonna have to be the best I can offer."
He looked at the torturer, Naveen, prowling around, the man still wearing his neutral expression that could mean anything from deep thought to a complete lack of interest in the conversation, and felt yet another stab of sheer frustration. He'd damaged too many people not to keep trying to help where he could, but torture boy was just as desperate not to let him help. Cool, clinical and completely under control of his emotions.
Or was he? Hugh's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. No one was ever completely in charge of their emotions. There was always some vulnerability hidden under the surface, and Naveen's main emotional outburst seemed to have been tied in with a description with Sawyer's fate. Was Sawyer a client of Naveen's? He couldn't remember, but it was more than likely. The gambler enjoyed the rougher aspects of life, and he certainly enjoyed submission. TortureBoy probably was a man who could appeal.
"Let's face it," he said softly, watching the torturer carefully. "People like Sawyer would be under even more threat. When I met him, he picked me up in a bar for a quick, hard fuck, no questions asked. If he still can't get what he wants from the house, then he's more than likely to crash into the bastards sent to kill Eric than anyone else. Unless that's what you want? To make it even more dangerous out there than it already is?"
"Who Sawyer fucks, who fucks him, and what happens as a result are no concern of mine. Being around the house you have obviously heard that he is a client of mine, but you make the mistake of thinking that I have feelings for him. He pays me, I bring him down here, I give him what he needs, then he goes on his way."
Not that he had done that in the past few days. Naveen hadn't seen Joshua since those moments in the Emerald Room. Josh had been to the house, it had to be said, but Naveen had been avoiding him. After everything that had happened, he couldn't handle seeing him.
Naveen wondered if even Jackman had heard about the way he had hit Vin. It wouldn't be surprising, considering just how gossip spread around this place. People who should know nothing always seemed to somehow know everything.
Naveen glanced back at the occupied viewing booth, knowing it contained the exact reason why rumors and stories spread like they did.
"So trying to upset me, or make me feel threatened in any way, is once again a wasted effort on your part. You cannot get to me, Mr. Jackman."
"Of course not," Hugh replied softly, scanning the other man's eyes carefully. "I'm sure you always straddle someone and slam a knife blade next to their neck. No emotion whatsoever, right? And you don't have to have feelings for someone to have some concern over their well being. If you don't want to call it emotional ties, then call it professional interest. You can't get paid by someone's who's died, and I doubt whether the House would get many customers if said customers had a nasty tendency of getting a bullet in the guts."
He tilted his head slightly, his eyes still watching his captor. Something wasn't quite right, but the man's shields were incredible. No wonder he was in demand for being a torturer; Hugh doubted whether the guy would even flicker if a knife was shoved in Naveen's thigh. Not that he particularly wanted to try, of course.
"It's a piece of paper, nothing more," Hugh said, his voice low and steady. "You know as well as I do that you care about the members of this household. Why you want to hide it I have no idea, unless it's just for that particular individual. I can't escape, I can't hurt anyone, I'll just write it and then you can tie me up again. I won't even speak of this man who you don't care about in the slightest," Hugh resisted a little sigh.
"And if you don't feel threatened in your house, you should be. They won't be pissing around when they come back, mate. You really wanna let an opportunity pass because you're feeling defensive? Or is it," his eyes moved to the wall where he assumed someone was watching, in the same way that he and Vin had been watching during the party. "Because you're being watched and you want to play the good little boy?"
Naveen quickly turned so he could watch Jackman's face. His face stayed calm, but his eyes flashed momentarily with a passionate fire. Once that had passed, however, he pursed his lips thoughtfully. With a wave of his hand, he asked, "What makes you think I am the one being watched? I am not the prisoner here. Maybe he is waiting to see you get your just desserts. I could not begrudge anyone that, after what you have done."
It surprised Naveen, however, that Jackman had the stones to be amused over this. No one usually ever dared to speak like that to him, unless they were literally asking to be put into their place. For some reason, Naveen did not think that was Jackman's intention.
As for the comments about how Naveen felt for the other members of the house, that was irrelevant. Of course Naveen cared, and cared deeply. He had never said he hadn't cared, he had merely said that he did not have feelings for Sawyer. But he wouldn't say any of this to his prisoner. There was no point.
Just a few more hours and Naveen would never have to deal with Jackman again. It didn't matter what he thought of him. Naveen had spent a whole lifetime brushing off people's misconceptions about him. He could continue to do so for another few hours.
And there was still nothing. Hugh would have been selecting a wall to bash his head against, if he could actually either get off the bed to do so. He didn't want to push it too far, not with so many pieces of equipment so close by, but clearly the torturer wasn't intending to shift from his refusal. Hugh growled softly to himself as he glanced at the wall again. Perhaps he was going to have to pray that Freeman gave him a little time to do what he needed to do, before whatever punishment happened.
Hugh had expected a fight when he was back at the house, but not in order to actually help them.
"He?" Hugh said instead, focusing on the few words he had managed to drag out of the torturer. "You know who it is?"
Why would anyone watch them? Wasn't this just a few hours guarding duty before the decision was made? Hugh shifted again on the mattress, and frowned at the wall. He had assumed the watcher had simply been curious, but then again nothing seemed to work in this house in the way he was expecting.
The frown and nervous shifting coming from Jackman pleased Naveen extraordinarily. So there was the way to really get at him. He claimed that he was bringing Eric back-something Naveen himself had no proof of-and it was well known that before the kidnapping, the two had had several sessions together. It was illogical, but maybe it was important to Jackman for Eric to continue to think well of him, even after all of this.
"Of course I know who it is. This is my domain. Nothing happens here without me being fully aware of what it is. And really, don't you think there's only one answer as to who it is?"
The two persons, as they were, were being deathly quiet. Naveen could still hear their breathing, and every moment or two he could hear them shifting in the small booth. Obviously he and Jackman's interaction had managed to be enough to hold their rather limited attention span.
This was good. Naveen could work with this. This may not have been the most ethical thing he had ever done, but he no longer felt out of control and dirty. The subject was back on Jackman and making him feel humiliated. And Naveen hadn't even said anything that was untrue. How was he to know that Hugh wouldn't know about the eyes and ears of the House?
Faking a bored sigh, Naveen glanced over to the large, shut wardrobe. "Well, now that you know of our audience, we should put on a good show, shouldn't we?"
Hugh had been too busy studying the window to fully grasp what the torturer was saying. Only one answer? He didn't dare ask for more. He could think of far too many people who might want to watch if it truly was payback, all who had more than enough justification to be there. Eric. Vin. Hell, even the bosses of the house, although Hugh suspected they would probably make sure he knew exactly who was calling the shots.
That left Eric or Vin, and he wasn't entirely sure whether the torturer properly knew about his connection to Vin. Equally, he suspected that Vin would probably demand to be a full participant rather than allow someone else the satisfaction. But Eric? Hugh chewed his lip uncertainly. The man had promised him his help, but it had been at a point where Bana really hadn't had much choice. Eric seemed to be the type of man who was truthful, earnest and genuinely kind, but then Hugh had pretended to be exactly that during his time at the house, befriending and then betraying them. He had absolutely no right to Eric's friendship or help.
Hugh's eyes closed again briefly, not wanting to think of Eric's hurt when he had realised the truth but unable to think of anything else. Fuck, he wished he'd come to his decision a long time ago and spared the whole house those feelings.
His eyes slowly opened again, Hugh turning his head slightly in order to view the torturer tiredly. He ran the last sentence through his mind again, then frowned uncertainly.
"A good show?" he followed Naveen's gaze to the wardrobe, then back again. "Like what?"
"Oh, I do not know. We don't want to get to any of the big things too quickly, now do we? But we cannot have you getting bored with the proceedings."
Naveen didn't actually want to touch Jackman, and he wouldn't unless it was otherwise unavoidable. Jackman'd been hurt enough already during the search, as evidenced by the bandages wrapped around his midsection. Even if Naveen would consider playing with an injured, non-consenting partner, Marton wouldn't approve of even another scratch or bruise showing up on Hugh.
But that didn't mean Naveen couldn't do his very best to make Jackman think that he was going to. "I could get that knife you seemed so fond of back out once more. Though I have plenty of whips and paddles that tend to be rather vicious and go over well with audiences. The metal studded ones, especially. Though I have lengths of chain that could prove useful... Candle wax, of course, I believe is too tame for a man like yourself. Maybe we could give you a tattoo?"
Tattoos. Hugh'd never even thought of tattoos being mentioned in a place like this, where lace and whips merged. The question flashed through his mind on what the subject matter would actually be of; decorative swirls? A picture? A written sentence, possibly of 'You Will Not Kidnap Others' to remind him? Either way, it wasn't something he would ever choose for himself. His body ached as it was, let alone with whips and paddles and chains - chains - entering the conversation.
Hugh shivered and his tired eyes moved back to the window again. Was this truly what the person behind it wanted? Was this what Eric wanted? One man's idea of punishment was often someone else's idea of being let off with a slap on the wrist. But whoever was behind there had to be there for a reason, either hope or security against accidents, and Hugh had harmed so many people in the house - all of whom had a justified reason to see the whip, paddle or chain flash into action. If 'the show' happened, then either the person would interrupt to stop Naveen from doing his task, or would settle back to enjoy the show.
Hugh shifted uncomfortably again. If he genuinely wanted to prove his sincerity, then it was only fair to allow the others their chance for retaliation. The torturer might do unsavoury things, but at least the man knew what he was doing with his tools; the only problem was the broken ribs and other injuries, but Hugh suspected the man knew his craft well enough to avoid that. However, was Naveen supposed to be doing this in the first place or was it pure emotion driving the torturer's actions? Eric and Vin might desire physical action against him - although he still couldn't really see the peaceful, kind hearted Bana in that light - but Hugh was pretty sure that Freeman wouldn't be too happy that punishment began without his confirmation. That meant Hugh had to seriously keep his mouth shut if asked outside the room otherwise the torturer would most likely end up in trouble as well. Hugh was supposed to be here to heal the damage he had caused, not inflict more injuries into the heart of the house.
One hand curled around the chain of the shackle that held him to the bed as he looked back at Naveen steadily, fighting the fear that was present in the back of his mind. Colin had been so clear about avoiding punishment, and Hugh had kept to that well until this point in time. But if there was even the faintest chance that either Eric or Vin or Sawyer wanted it to start like this, then there was nothing else he could do but agree.
"Not the tattoo," he said, hoping his words came across stronger than he felt. "Hard to hide from your boss."
Hugh fell silent, not wanting to offer a suggestion but knowing he couldn't exactly say no to one without giving something back. But what to suggest? The only part of his body that could risk to be hit was the lower half, and he liked his lower half. He also realised he had absolutely no idea what affect chains or paddles would have on a body; his imagination could run wild, but what looked good and what actually did damage were two different things. Paddles sounded mild, but probably felt differently. He could only think of chains breaking bones, which couldn't be the case but he couldn't imagine any other result. No. There was one weapon he did know, through so many years in the saddle rounding up animals of various forms, and it was the weapon of his youth that Hugh returned to. It was fitting, in a loud, painful way.
"Be better with a whip," Hugh heard his voice calmly say. "On somewhere I can hide it. Or perhaps I can claim it's from the earlier fight,"
Hugh hesitated, then looked up at him again, his eyes soft and vulnerable for a second before his shield came back up. It wasn't the physical punishment that tore at him, he had expected that from the moment the House caught them before they had made their way back to the city. No, it was the thought of Eric gaining pleasure from watching it that really hurt, that Hugh had damaged him so badly that the man had taken refuge in a response that seemed so alien to Bana's personality. Damage to Eric that was unforgivable.
"If you truly think Eric would want this to happen," he added before he could stop himself.
Naveen nearly sighed in exasperation. Things had once again veered off the course he had adopted. He had only just decided to go with the idea that Jackman thought he was here to get punishment. And now that he had, Jackman thought Naveen was going to, what? Scene with him? Or beat him, without consent? Even though what Jackman offered now was near consent-but for all the wrong reasons.
"You seem to be under the assumption of several things that are just not true, Mr. Jackman. For one, what makes you think that 'my boss' isn't behind all of this? Secondly, what makes you think that you have any say at all in what happens to you? Have I not been telling you to stop thinking about yourself like that? I will decide what happens here."
Hopefully that would get Jackman back on the right track. And hopefully the continued belief that Eric was watching would only increase his anxiety. Naveen wondered if the duo watching were still there, they had gone so quiet, but Naveen knew that it as much as Eric was disinclined to watch, Dom and Billy were the exact opposite.
Hugh's eyes slid back to the window, getting more and more confused over the situation. Who exactly was giving the orders? Was it Eric, watching silently, or had the boss of the house come to his decision already and given instructions? Hell, were they still discussing it, but the first stage had already begun? Hugh had assumed that he had been put into the room purely for guarding purposes, but nothing made sense anymore. Perhaps this whole thing was a bad dream and he would wake up in a normal bed on a normal day.
"Sorry," he mumbled. "Just meant I wasn't going to stop you."
As soon as the words left his mouth, he realised how utterly idiotic it sounded. He was chained to a bed, wearing very little with enough bruises to turn him into a human shaped domino. There was no way he was going to be able to stop anyone, even if he wanted to.
"Argue," Hugh amended as swiftly as he could. "Wasn't going to argue. Just offering suggestions."
He shifted again, uncomfortably. He hated not knowing what was happening, or what form it was likely to take. On the other hand, asking was likely to get the torturer in more of a mood than he was already. Hugh hesitated, then came to a decision. Fuck it. Naveen seemed the type to be grumpy most of the time, and if it was going to happen then it needed to happen before Hugh chickened out of it. Well, attempted to chicken out, anyway. The shackles to the bed situation was still going to mean that the torturer was going to win regardless.
"So is this indecisiveness planned as well?" Hugh kept his voice as casual as he could, hoping it would irritate the other man to finally begin the punishment before it drove him insane. "Or are you going to roll a dice?"
A slight pang of remorse hit Naveen as he watched Jackman shift yet again. He was sure that the man was experiencing pain from the strain his position put on his injuries, and that he should move the man to a more comfortable position.
But then Naveen thought of Josh, and the way he had laid so still on that bed, and he remembered who this was. The man was responsible for bodily injuries on at least four people, and emotional injuries on a lot more. Again, he reminded himself that this was not a session; Jackman deserved his pain.
"Indecisiveness? I think not," Naveen snorted. "I was merely deciding which activities should be done first. We don't want to send you past the point of no return too quickly, do we? You have a lot of crimes against you, as you know. Acting prematurely would defeat the purpose."
As he thought of those people, those crimes, letting it fuel his anger, inspiration struck. A twisted smile worked its way across Naveen's face, and he reached into his toy chest. Pulling out a large, wooden phallus, he looked at Jackman thoughtfully and said, "Eric was naked for the time you took him, was he not? You raped him."
That shut him up entirely. Hugh's horrified eyes turned from the torturer to the 'toy' and then back at the torturer again. God, no, please.
"I didn't touch the guy.. or at least not like that, anyway!" he amended, remembering the bump on the head that Eric had received and the accidental scrapes from the coffin that had turned up through misjudgement. "He was naked because it made it harder for him to escape!"
Okay, that didn't sound exactly innocent. Hugh tried not to panic, but it was increasingly difficult when he was chained to a bed faced with a man bearing a toy of that size and a gleam in his eye that spoke of unpleasantness.
"I didn't touch him," he repeated steadily. "Ask him!"
"I believe I have mentioned this to you before, but why would I believe Eric? Even though you can no longer hurt him, he is... emotionally confused. It is a dangerous thing." Eric, as far as Naveen had heard, truly believed Jackman was a good man.
But Naveen had seen the damage he had done, and knew for a fact that there was no way that this man could be anything but the worst kind of scum. He would have to be, to be such a good liar to bewitch his own victim into believing such things.
Naveen loomed closer, pondering the toy carefully. "You were fucking when you drugged Eric, and Vin. That much one could tell just by looking at the mess you made. So, obviously, you feel sexual attraction towards Eric. And I am supposed to believe that while he was naked, and helpless, you did not take advantage? I find that hard to believe. But now I have you here. Helpless."
When it was said like that, Hugh could see the point. However, it was the other point that was really capturing his attention, the blunted, wooden, hard, large point that formed the tip of the toy. He swallowed and shifted position again, ignoring his body's objections to the movement. If the torturer was right, that he wasn't listening to Eric's opinions and this whole situation was Freeman approved, then he was utterly screwed. Bana had been his only real hope for any type of leniency.
He shot another look at the window again, praying that the whole thing had been a set up to wind him up, but the window was unsurprisingly giving nothing away.
"Okay, yeah, I did all that, and yes, I find them both attractive, but that doesn't mean I did anything to them whilst they were drugged!" Hugh tried to keep the anxiety out of his voice but it was getting increasingly difficult. His hands curled further around his bonds, trying to resist the urge to fight against them.
"I know I'm a bastard, but there are some lines you just don't cross. I'm not a rapist. Not now, not ever," he was one step away from a full blown plea.
Jackman was exactly where Naveen wanted him, finally. Worried. Paranoid. Confused. Even scared. Naveen was very pleased, probably more then he wanted to admit. It felt so good to have the control back in his hands, and even better to have Jackman so off his center.
"You have proven yourself as a liar, Jackman. You lied to get in here, and to gain our trust. I do not believe you." Naveen wasn't sure what actually happened during the time Eric was with Jackman, but he knew in his heart that someone like Jackman was incapable of being sincere, and at there very least probably coerced Eric somehow.
Grabbing the vial of oil sitting on the small table next to the bed, Naveen thumbed off the stopper. He poured a small stream down onto the toy, before setting the small bottle back in it's place, still open.
"Now, since you said you would not 'argue,' I assume you are going to be a good boyand not fight as we remove your trousers." It was not a question. There was really only one acceptable answer. Holding the now-glistening wooden dildo back, Naveen let his hand come to rest over Jackman's waistband.
He knew what he had said, and had genuinely meant it, and if it had been for anything else he would have stayed perfectly still and tried to prove that he could take responsibility for his actions, but this wasn't anything else and it was for something he didn't even do. He had enough crimes as it was without needing any more. Hugh watched each movement with a look of absolute horror, and immediately tried to twist away from the deceptively gentle hand that touched the linen trousers he had been dressed in. Or at least attempted to, anyway. He gasped in pain and had to sink back against the bed, the sudden movement too much for his injured ribs. No, he couldn't. Not like this, and not by him. What the hell had happened to a good, solid beating?
"Don't you fucking touch me!" Hugh panted desperately. "If your boss wants it then he can come and tell me himself rather than use his goon-,"
He almost jumped out of his skin again as something thumped, seemingly in the wall, and an echoy noise sounded as though a ghost had suddenly woken up and become interested in the proceedings. What the hell?!
Hugh's wide eyes searched the room but there was absolutely no one else there, and the window seemed thick enough not to have any sound leaking in from there. He squirmed again, trying to find an escape route that just didn't exist, then froze as a familiar voice suddenly formed in the room.
"in the walls...or maybe bodies..."
Eric. Hugh's eyes turned to Naveen again, confused and anxious. Was that supposed to happen, and since when were bodies turning up? Had the plans changed?
Naveen paused, looking away from Jackman's questioning look. It was easy for him to recognize Eric's voice through the thin metal tube that worked its way down one wall. He was as confused as Jackman about what was being said, but he wasn't going to let it show.
Luckily, Hugh didn't seem to realize that the presence of Eric's voice proved that the bouncer wasn't in the viewing booth, but that could change at any moment. Though even if he did, it would likely only confuse Jackman more, and Naveen knew that wouldn't be a bad thing.
Naveen set the toy carefully on the bed, but it still rolled to rest against Jackman. He gave it a vaguely annoyed look, but didn't take the effort to remove it. It would be fascinating to see how Jackman responded to it, but unfortunately there was not time or effort into seeing.
Without another word to his prisoner, Naveen left the dark, atmospheric playroom to find out what was causing the commotion. He stopped only to kick his eavesdroppers out of their hiding place, and herd them up the stairs.
When Naveen finally returned to Hugh's side, his face was tense and his lips a thin line. "Circumstances have changed. It seems that the owners need to gather more information."
More information? From who? And how? Hugh tensed further, trying to see past the little mask that Naveen was wearing that seemed to be of irritation and distaste, as far as he could see. Neither of those gave him any confidence. The toy that had tormented him lay pressed against his leg, reminding him of the punishment that Hugh had thought had already been decided. Had the House relented? Or had their suspicions and paranoia already built to the stage where every little piece of information would be assessed, piece by piece, until they were satisfied they had everything?
He kept utterly still as the torturer prowled, Hugh's breathing shallow and his heart too loud in his chest. Bodies, Eric had said. Bodies. Whose? Why? Was it simply their little death plan to confuse the House's enemies, or had someone been more injured than he believed? Had someone actually died from his actions?
Hugh's eyes widened at that thought, and tried not to focus on the door. He'd find out soon enough what the change of circumstance was about, he was sure.
He only hoped it was for the better, for every-one's sake.
Word Count: ~9215
Be sure to come along with us next time as we continue to pop in on various scenes following the 'Searchers' return
Back to Chapter 96
Arm yourself because no one else here will save you
The odds will betray you
And I will replace you
You can't deny the prize it may never fulfill you
It longs to kill you
Are you willing to die?
The coldest blood runs through my veins
You know my name
'You Know My Name' Chris Cornell
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PU7J5MSIr6U
They had decided to handcuff him to the bed when they had arrived back at Freeman's. Hugh hadn't really focused on much of it; his head was still fuzzy from the drugs and his stomach was swirling uncomfortably. He found his legs were proving pretty disobedient as well as he was taken from the cart and led through the interchangeable corridors, and had to focus on getting them to walk in a straight line to avoid bouncing off the walls. A strong hand on his shoulder and arm gave him enough stability to navigate his way, and Hugh had settled willingly enough on the bed.
Half an hour later and he was no longer quite as comfortable. Hugh gently moved his hands and heard the 'click-click' sound of the bonds striking the bed frame. He frowned upwards uncertainly. Hadn't he only had one hand fastened to the bed frame rather than two? Hugh shifted on the bed and found his movements were even more restricted, his battered ribs objecting to any activities that involved flexibility. The room was also eerily silent, the outside world remaining firmly outside, and Hugh was slowly, horribly aware he was resting in the lair where the torturer liked to ply his trade. They could do anything in here and it would be a private secret, just between themselves.
Hugh felt a cold, icy sensation trickle down his spine, although he forced himself to stay focused. They could have easily beaten him senseless at the barn, after all. On the other hand, they had a lot of 'toys' to play with at the house...
His gaze travelled slowly around the room. He had been fastened to a huge, elaborately decorated bed, that had apparently stolen the world's supply of bright red shiny fabric. The colour scheme was exotic, bright and glossy, and yet with a dark hint that reminded whoever was looking at it that such luxury came with a price. Hugh looked across at the erotic images and figures that often left little to the imagination, and then at the dark wooden chests and drawers which suggested that the occupants had a definite need for storage.
And then, of course, there were a few large items in the corners of the room, draped with silken fabrics to hide their presence. Hugh frowned harder, and tried to pretend he hadn't seen the leather strap that appeared to be attached to the ..bench? Hadn't he seen something like that being used when he was drunk with Vin?
He shook himself mentally and scowled up at the darkened ceiling. All he was doing was increasing his own paranoia. Eric seemed sure that he could convince them, and even a house with a dungeon like this rarely had actual working cells. This was just a temporary situation whilst the others discussed the problem in comfortable surroundings, and then they would-
A movement suddenly grabbed his attention, Hugh's hands 'click-clicking' again as he jumped. He had assumed he had been alone in the room, but there had been so many shadows and items that it had been hard to see, and no one just lurked around silently unless they were insane.
"Who's there?" He was fucked if he was going to just jump at shadows. If he was going to jump, he was going to find a damned good reason first.
"Please be quiet. I have a headache and your voice is grating enough as-is." Naveen had been tasked with watching the prisoner, and while he understood that this was something that showed the owner's high respect in him, the mere sight of Jackman was making him feel like a clock that was wound too tightly.
Marton had only bound one of Jackman's wrists, but shortly after the proprietor had left, Naveen had shackled the other to the headboard. The man was dangerous, and god only knew what he could do with even one hand free. It wasn't as if Jackman deserved any less. And it was only until the proprietors decided his final fate.
Naveen had to remind himself that. Only a few more hours, and then whatever would need to be done would be done. Jackman would be punished for the harm he did to Joshua and the household, and then Naveen would be able to wash his hands of the whole affair.
He had shifted in his chair, an ornate beast tucked into a dark cranny for voyeurs, uncomfortable because of both the situation and the growing tension at the back of his skull. Naveen shifted once more, desperate to get comfortable but knowing that true relaxation wouldn't come until Jackman was one with the authorities, or back on a boat to his native Australia.
Rubbing his temples, Naveen stood, and neared the bed. He looked over the man sprawled there, and sneered.
Disgusting.
Hugh's eyes narrowed at the sight of the man who the house employed to torture people on demand. One hand curled around its bond, giving it a little test before releasing it again. It was far too strong for him to escape.
God. Out of everyone, this man was definitely not someone he wanted to see. Even a furious Vin would have been preferable; sure, Hugh probably would have ended up in a bloody heap, but at least it would have made Vin feel better as a result. This guy could probably torture for hours just as something to do on his lunch break.
"Sorry about my voice. I have a nasty tendency to talk when tied to a bed," Hugh replied dryly, resisting the urge to start singing. If this man was planning to make him suffer, then it was Hugh's solemn duty to return the favour. He studied him for a moment longer, then decided not to beat around the bush.
"Why are you here?"
"I should have gagged you when I had the chance." Naveen sighed, regretting the decision but knowing it was the right one. Knowing that Hugh had recently been drugged meant that it was necessary to keep his mouth clear, in case he vomited. Having Jackman choke to death on his own bile would be a most unsatisfactory death.
Finally answering Jackman's question, Naveen posed a question of his own. "Why do you think I'm here? You know why you're here, I assume."
Waiting. Naveen hated waiting. Prolonging an experience, yes. Hanging in anticipation for hours while you awaited pleasure, yes. But he positively could not stand this state of inactive limbo as he awaited someone else's decision. A decision that, despite Marton being fully aware of Naveen's feelings on the subject, he doubted he would approve of.
At least when he kept a client waiting, it always had a pleasurable end.
Jackman fell silent as he considered his answer. There was every possibility that the man was simply here to make sure he didn't escape, or to check on him after the affects of the drugs died down. He doubted whether the torturer had any vulnerability to pleading or persuasion, given his work, and that made him an excellent guard. That's what it would be, surely? If Marton wanted him to be punished, then Hugh had no doubt he would know exactly what type of punishment he was getting, and would be watched by more than just this man.
Still... the paranoia tugged at him, whispering all types of horrible suggestions. Hugh's dubious gaze travelled down Naveen's body then back up again. God, what sort of 'experiences' had this man inflicted in his time at the house?
"I assume you're just a guard... right?" he said finally, going for the less alarming answer.
"I'm not just anything." Naveen's lips flattened into a thin line, displeased with whatever insinuation Jackman was making. It may just be from the gathering tension in his head, but the tentative look Jackman was giving him seemed to imply that the man actually thought Naveen might be there for something much more. Naveen resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
If there was one thing that Naveen hated more than someone who was willing to do what Jackman did, it was that same person, but without the sense in his head to realize that Naveen didn't actually harm people.
"Now I have requested that you keep your mouth shut. Don't make me ask again. I want these next few hours to go as smoothly as possible."
Naveen looked down on Jackman for another beat, before circling the bed and heading in the direction of the chest of drawers that contained some of his toys. Then suddenly, Naveen the urge to organize his knife collection. And, well, whatever Jackman got from it... it would serve him right for making assumptions about a lifestyle that was not his own.
"Next few hours?" Hugh repeated with a sick feeling in his stomach. The first thing he was going to do was spend the day stretching if he ever got out of this; his body felt stiff and awkward as it was, without adding extra time tied to a bed. He had a horrible feeling he was going to need the toilet soon as well, which wasn't assisting.
He watched the man circle the bed like a vulture trying to decide on the juiciest piece of meat to steal, and attempted to keep his mouth shut. Normally that wasn't a problem, but there was something about the torturer that he couldn't quite put a finger on.
As the other man neared the storage and began to carefully look through the items, Hugh's need to pin down the sensation suddenly got a lot less important. He leaned forward as far as the bonds would let him, surprise stamped in his eyes as he saw a flash of light sparkle from something metallic.
"Is that a knife?" he asked in utter disbelief.
"That is a ridiculous question that I won't deign to answer." The knife, one of several, was more for show than anything. It wasn't overly big, but it was spectacular to look at. And he did keep it incredibly sharp, in case a customer was interested in a little blood play, or in one memorable case, scarification.
Strop in hand, Naveen began sharpening the blade. He kept one eye on the man on the bed as he did so, a silent warning to keep him from speaking out of turn.
"If you insist on talking, you could at least say something useful."
Knives in the bedroom. Of course that made perfect sense with this sort of man. He probably couldn't get an erection without a little bit of blood somewhere... Hugh looked at the other man carefully, then shook himself mentally. Jesus, where did they find this guy? Did they go out to find the sexiest, most violent mugger they could find and offer him a position?
"What sort of useful did you have in mind?" Hugh said instead. Verbal, at least, rarely involved sharp blades.
"The useful sort of useful. Something we can use. You managed to sneak into the bosom of a rather exclusive club. Tell me how."
Naveen thought of Joshua. It was hard not to think of him, and of the times he'd spent with Jackman. Looking briefly away from his charge, Naveen relived the moment he had seen the two of them at Sean's party. He remembered looking on Hugh, and thinking what a wonderful Dominant this man would make. If only he had known the truth.
Naveen hadn't seen Sawyer since it was discovered that Hugh was who took Eric. He knew that Joshua was hurting, both physically and mentally. People were still whispering about Naveen coming to Josh's defense.
Tearing himself from his thoughts, Naveen leveled his gaze on Jackman once more. The knife slid along the leather of the strop, the noise loud in the quiet room.
Hugh considered how to respond. The request was valid enough, sensible under the circumstance, but discussing everything that happened was liable to upset the other man further. The knife moving back and forth was distracting, a little noise of promised violence, and Jackman found his attention captured by it on more than one occasion.
"I had scouted the area for a while," Hugh said after a pause. "I knew a frontal attack on someone the size of Bana wasn't likely to work, and he rarely seemed to come out alone anyway. That meant I needed to work from the inside. As there seemed no way to get an invitation without proof of your character, I targeted a member of the club to get that proof."
He hesitated when it came to Sawyer. Everyone probably already knew who had sponsored him, but there was a very slim chance that some people might not have heard. For that slim chance, Hugh decided to hold his tongue over the identity of his target. The gambler relied on his reputation for his work, and Hugh had no doubt he had damaged that far too much already. No. The torturer probably already knew who the man was, and therefore he didn't need any further details. If he didn't, then Freeman could tell him.
"After I had convinced this one man that I was okay and needed a safe place, then I was invited to a party. From there, I could start building connections and trust to give me an opportunity to do my work," his voice was soft, low and slightly dead as he recounted what he had done. "You know the rest, I assume."
This one man. As if that was all that Josh was. Some man picked from the crowds. That he was inconsequential and that no ill effects would come as a result of Hugh's actions. Like Joshua wouldn't feel used as a result of Hugh's actions.
"There are men who believe that they are the center of the universe, quite literally. I have a feeling that you are one of these men. Everything happens to you, and everyone else is merely a supporting player. Well, let it be my solemn duty to inform you that there are no supporting players in life. Everyone else has a full, complex life that continues on even when you are not looking at them. Your actions have effects on these people.
"Do you realize what effect you've had on this house? The staff; the clients? The dozens of people whose lives you've seriously interrupted with your actions?"
Setting the strop down on the top of the chest of drawers, Naveen slid the knife past the sash that was wrapped around his waist, so that the blade hung at his side. He should just leave the man be and go back to his tasks, but this was something that Naveen would not let go easily.
"Don't you believe there should be consequences for all the people you've harmed?"
Hugh was silenced, a wash of guilt flooding through him at the other man's words. He had known he would cause distress at the house, but he had tried so hard to push that to one side in order to focus on the task in hand. One slip and it could have easily turned into violence, bloodshed and death, which he just couldn't have risked. But then he hadn't needed to risk anything at all, had he come to his decision a long time ago.
Hugh licked his lips, which had turned extremely dry. His throat felt uncomfortably tight, but he forced the words out anyway.
"I know this won't mean anything to you, but I did try to stop people getting hurt," Hugh said softly. "I didn't want to hurt anyone else physically, and I tried to make sure Eric was safe.. as much as I could, anyway. I chose a man who wanted me as a body for free casual sex rather than any emotional need, so I didn't toy with anyone's affections. I didn't realise it would all affect the house so badly,"
Only he did, deep inside. A theft from a building was bad enough, the sense of violation and vulnerability never really leaving the victims, and that was just for a trinket. To kidnap someone from a building was much worse, especially a house whose survival relied on secrecy and security. And then there was the trust he had taken and abused. Hugh had expected the whole house to come after them, daggers and weapons drawn; if that didn't speak loudly enough about how much the kidnapping affected them, there wasn't much else that would.
Hugh raised his eyes again. Apologising wasn't enough, he had always known that, and he knew it would be rightly sneered at as soon as the words left his mouth. He had to prove it in some way, but how could he possibly prove his sincerity to that extent? His debt was too large.
And the size of that debt would have been instantly recognisable to a man like Freeman, which brought a whole new meaning to being bound so firmly to the bed. Hugh tested the bonds again, which spoke clearly of distrust and strength. This didn't seem right, the luxury of the room, but he couldn't dismiss it out of hand. Colin's influence began to slowly sharpen his mind, trying to pick apart what was important and what was simply his own emotion getting in the way.
If they were going to remove him, by whatever method, then he needed to help them stop his replacement. He wished he could speak to the others, but Hugh no longer suspected that was possible. He should have spoken to Eric or Viggo whilst he had the chance at the barn, but his own uncertainty had clouded over what was important and what was merely personal. Colin would have been ashamed of him.
"Is that why I'm here? For the consequences?" his eyes moved from the knife to the other man's eyes steadily in his need to confirm.
Naveen followed Hugh's gaze to his knife, and sneered. His hand, which was still resting on the smooth, heavy handle of the blade, wrapped around it as if he were only seconds away from raising it.
"You failed, you realize. People were hurt. Physically and mentally. That man-Sawyer-was beaten unconscious for his involvement in your plan." Of course, that was not exactly how things happened, but it was true enough. Any added guilt Jackman felt thinking more than a single punch had been thrown still wouldn't be enough.
"He was innocent. You are not. If I were you, I would put myself past worrying what would be happening to me."
Drawing the knife from his sash, Naveen climbed onto the bed. He adjusted his grip so as to better wield it, and hovered above Jackman. The sharp point of the blade was pressed against the comforter, near Jackman's neck. The fabric dipped under the knife, and Naveen twisted the blade, uncaring if a small hole resulted.
If only Naveen were there to give 'consequences,' he would make Jackman pay. For the first time in his life, he truly wished another person serious harm. He wouldn't kill Jackman himself. But he would ensure that this man could never run, nor hide again. And then he would put him on a boat back to Australia. If Jackman survived the trip, then it would be whoever sent Jackman's duty to finish the deed.
A quick, indrawn breath drew Naveen's gaze to the camouflaged window of a viewing booth. It was nearly inaudible, and he only acknowledged it with a quick flick of his eyes and increasing tension in his jaw. The bartender and dealer, it had to be. No one else would dare sneak away from whatever duties they had to spy on something this private.
After a drawn out moment, Naveen removed himself from the bed, taking the knife with him. This was not a scene. This was so unlike any scene Naveen had been involved in, and it left him feeling soiled. Naveen cursed himself internally. He should not have given into Jackman's provocations. This was not a show, and he would not perform for anyone, let alone those two peeping Toms.
As he went to replace the knife, he repeated his mantra. Only a few more hours, and then he would never have to think of Jackman again.
Hugh's eyes had widened at the news of what had happened to poor Sawyer; he had wanted to believe that the conman had read the mood of the house, or simply be classified under the same 'tricked' label as Vin had been when he had helped to get Eric drugged. Sawyer had enough charm to talk his way out of any problem, but it hadn't been enough to save him - or, more likely, he hadn't been given a chance to try. Had Sawyer even realised the danger he had been placed in before they had struck? Hugh shuddered inwardly, and prayed the man would recover.
The bed dipped as the torturer climbed on to it, the blade flashing in the light and a dark hue in his eyes that burned intensely. Hugh automatically tried to move but the bonds stopped him, and given the murderous look he was receiving it was probably a good idea to remain perfectly still. Jackman's breath caught in his throat as the knife stayed so damned close, knowing that any words he said would only push the furious man further. He looked up, scanning the other man's eyes warily in preparation for whatever would happen.
As it turned out, the blade remained unbloodied. He wasn't sure that was a good or bad thing any more, not as more and more information crept out the woodwork. Hugh had wanted to repair as much as he could from his actions, but each minute told him more of the much wider picture he hadn't considered, the ripples from the initial blow he had made.
Hugh closed his eyes and took a deeper breath as the torturer withdrew, sagging against the mattress, before opening them again and looking at the stiff figure who was replacing the knife. He might not be able to pay back everything he had stolen, but there were certain things he could do, and Hugh prayed he would be given the opportunity to finish it before they took whatever revenge they wanted.
"I can give you an extra month." Hugh said softly. "Please give me a piece of paper and a pen, and release one of my hands. Preferably my right one. Then you can do whatever you like with me."
"I am neither judge nor jury. Your bargaining is wasted on me." And what guarantee was there that a month would make any difference? That a transmission would even be sent back to Australia, let alone actually arrive?
Considering actions that were taken in the past for incidents less than this, Naveen was sure that there wasn't a chance that anyone would get near Eric again. Security would be much more diligent around the house, Eric wouldn't be allowed to see any new customers, and he likely wouldn't get much privacy in the coming months.
It would be an awful, invasive process for Eric, but it was likely what they would have to do to ensure that this didn't happen again.
"Because I cannot give you anything, be it as great as a whole month or as small as a scrap of paper."
Bargaining? This desperate plea was bargaining? Hugh closed his eyes and tried to stop his frustration from showing. The damage he had done to the house was so damned great he doubted it would ever properly recover, and now there was a chance the limited things he could do would never be given to him. There was a strong possibility that the house's decision would be reached and acted upon, without giving him a chance to speak.
"Please," Hugh tried again. "Even if you don't use it, it'll be there. Take all the precautions you need, a knife at my throat, tie my feet together, whatever you want. What harm can it do?"
"I have already told you, I cannot give you anything. Nothing you say or do to me will change your fate, so do not even try."
Let Jackman bring it up to Marton. Let him be the one to decide what harm it could do. Naveen believed that enough harm had been done already. What was done was done. There was no way to repair it.
Naveen was too wound up, and too upset with his own actions, to do what he wanted and return to his chair. So he paced, slowly circling the room.
As Naveen passed the booth where the barkeep and dealer were, he slowed for one step, before increasing his pace again. He couldn't forget that everything he did and said was being observed.
"Why would you even want to offer it? It is not as if writing a single letter would let you 'off the hook,' as they say."
"Let me off the hook?" Hugh repeated, then laughed in rueful amusement. "No, it won't, so it's just as well I'm not doing it for that, isn't it? Regardless of motivations, there's no excuse for what I did, I know that, you know that, the house's cat knows that. Even if your Mr. Freeman was sympathetic, there'd have to be something done, right? You can't just kidnap one of the staff and get away with it, even if you do bring them back afterwards. It's his and the house's reputation on the line."
Hugh shifted position on the bed and winced as his ribs argued with the suggestion. However, his arms were beginning to feel more than a little achy.
"But regardless of what happens to me," Hugh sighed softly. "the guy who sent me out here is still there and still after Eric's blood. He'll send someone else, and to be honest after this he's probably just going to go for the bastards who would shoot and run rather than go through an elaborate ruse to get him alone. Hell, they'd probably take pleasure in it. At least with a letter I might be able to steer their investigation away from this house. Be better if you guys can make it look like Eric's already dead, but ...," Hugh shrugged helplessly as best he could. ".. .guess that's up to your bosses on what they want to do. They can't exactly send me back to Australia, so a letter's gonna have to be the best I can offer."
He looked at the torturer, Naveen, prowling around, the man still wearing his neutral expression that could mean anything from deep thought to a complete lack of interest in the conversation, and felt yet another stab of sheer frustration. He'd damaged too many people not to keep trying to help where he could, but torture boy was just as desperate not to let him help. Cool, clinical and completely under control of his emotions.
Or was he? Hugh's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. No one was ever completely in charge of their emotions. There was always some vulnerability hidden under the surface, and Naveen's main emotional outburst seemed to have been tied in with a description with Sawyer's fate. Was Sawyer a client of Naveen's? He couldn't remember, but it was more than likely. The gambler enjoyed the rougher aspects of life, and he certainly enjoyed submission. TortureBoy probably was a man who could appeal.
"Let's face it," he said softly, watching the torturer carefully. "People like Sawyer would be under even more threat. When I met him, he picked me up in a bar for a quick, hard fuck, no questions asked. If he still can't get what he wants from the house, then he's more than likely to crash into the bastards sent to kill Eric than anyone else. Unless that's what you want? To make it even more dangerous out there than it already is?"
"Who Sawyer fucks, who fucks him, and what happens as a result are no concern of mine. Being around the house you have obviously heard that he is a client of mine, but you make the mistake of thinking that I have feelings for him. He pays me, I bring him down here, I give him what he needs, then he goes on his way."
Not that he had done that in the past few days. Naveen hadn't seen Joshua since those moments in the Emerald Room. Josh had been to the house, it had to be said, but Naveen had been avoiding him. After everything that had happened, he couldn't handle seeing him.
Naveen wondered if even Jackman had heard about the way he had hit Vin. It wouldn't be surprising, considering just how gossip spread around this place. People who should know nothing always seemed to somehow know everything.
Naveen glanced back at the occupied viewing booth, knowing it contained the exact reason why rumors and stories spread like they did.
"So trying to upset me, or make me feel threatened in any way, is once again a wasted effort on your part. You cannot get to me, Mr. Jackman."
"Of course not," Hugh replied softly, scanning the other man's eyes carefully. "I'm sure you always straddle someone and slam a knife blade next to their neck. No emotion whatsoever, right? And you don't have to have feelings for someone to have some concern over their well being. If you don't want to call it emotional ties, then call it professional interest. You can't get paid by someone's who's died, and I doubt whether the House would get many customers if said customers had a nasty tendency of getting a bullet in the guts."
He tilted his head slightly, his eyes still watching his captor. Something wasn't quite right, but the man's shields were incredible. No wonder he was in demand for being a torturer; Hugh doubted whether the guy would even flicker if a knife was shoved in Naveen's thigh. Not that he particularly wanted to try, of course.
"It's a piece of paper, nothing more," Hugh said, his voice low and steady. "You know as well as I do that you care about the members of this household. Why you want to hide it I have no idea, unless it's just for that particular individual. I can't escape, I can't hurt anyone, I'll just write it and then you can tie me up again. I won't even speak of this man who you don't care about in the slightest," Hugh resisted a little sigh.
"And if you don't feel threatened in your house, you should be. They won't be pissing around when they come back, mate. You really wanna let an opportunity pass because you're feeling defensive? Or is it," his eyes moved to the wall where he assumed someone was watching, in the same way that he and Vin had been watching during the party. "Because you're being watched and you want to play the good little boy?"
Naveen quickly turned so he could watch Jackman's face. His face stayed calm, but his eyes flashed momentarily with a passionate fire. Once that had passed, however, he pursed his lips thoughtfully. With a wave of his hand, he asked, "What makes you think I am the one being watched? I am not the prisoner here. Maybe he is waiting to see you get your just desserts. I could not begrudge anyone that, after what you have done."
It surprised Naveen, however, that Jackman had the stones to be amused over this. No one usually ever dared to speak like that to him, unless they were literally asking to be put into their place. For some reason, Naveen did not think that was Jackman's intention.
As for the comments about how Naveen felt for the other members of the house, that was irrelevant. Of course Naveen cared, and cared deeply. He had never said he hadn't cared, he had merely said that he did not have feelings for Sawyer. But he wouldn't say any of this to his prisoner. There was no point.
Just a few more hours and Naveen would never have to deal with Jackman again. It didn't matter what he thought of him. Naveen had spent a whole lifetime brushing off people's misconceptions about him. He could continue to do so for another few hours.
And there was still nothing. Hugh would have been selecting a wall to bash his head against, if he could actually either get off the bed to do so. He didn't want to push it too far, not with so many pieces of equipment so close by, but clearly the torturer wasn't intending to shift from his refusal. Hugh growled softly to himself as he glanced at the wall again. Perhaps he was going to have to pray that Freeman gave him a little time to do what he needed to do, before whatever punishment happened.
Hugh had expected a fight when he was back at the house, but not in order to actually help them.
"He?" Hugh said instead, focusing on the few words he had managed to drag out of the torturer. "You know who it is?"
Why would anyone watch them? Wasn't this just a few hours guarding duty before the decision was made? Hugh shifted again on the mattress, and frowned at the wall. He had assumed the watcher had simply been curious, but then again nothing seemed to work in this house in the way he was expecting.
The frown and nervous shifting coming from Jackman pleased Naveen extraordinarily. So there was the way to really get at him. He claimed that he was bringing Eric back-something Naveen himself had no proof of-and it was well known that before the kidnapping, the two had had several sessions together. It was illogical, but maybe it was important to Jackman for Eric to continue to think well of him, even after all of this.
"Of course I know who it is. This is my domain. Nothing happens here without me being fully aware of what it is. And really, don't you think there's only one answer as to who it is?"
The two persons, as they were, were being deathly quiet. Naveen could still hear their breathing, and every moment or two he could hear them shifting in the small booth. Obviously he and Jackman's interaction had managed to be enough to hold their rather limited attention span.
This was good. Naveen could work with this. This may not have been the most ethical thing he had ever done, but he no longer felt out of control and dirty. The subject was back on Jackman and making him feel humiliated. And Naveen hadn't even said anything that was untrue. How was he to know that Hugh wouldn't know about the eyes and ears of the House?
Faking a bored sigh, Naveen glanced over to the large, shut wardrobe. "Well, now that you know of our audience, we should put on a good show, shouldn't we?"
Hugh had been too busy studying the window to fully grasp what the torturer was saying. Only one answer? He didn't dare ask for more. He could think of far too many people who might want to watch if it truly was payback, all who had more than enough justification to be there. Eric. Vin. Hell, even the bosses of the house, although Hugh suspected they would probably make sure he knew exactly who was calling the shots.
That left Eric or Vin, and he wasn't entirely sure whether the torturer properly knew about his connection to Vin. Equally, he suspected that Vin would probably demand to be a full participant rather than allow someone else the satisfaction. But Eric? Hugh chewed his lip uncertainly. The man had promised him his help, but it had been at a point where Bana really hadn't had much choice. Eric seemed to be the type of man who was truthful, earnest and genuinely kind, but then Hugh had pretended to be exactly that during his time at the house, befriending and then betraying them. He had absolutely no right to Eric's friendship or help.
Hugh's eyes closed again briefly, not wanting to think of Eric's hurt when he had realised the truth but unable to think of anything else. Fuck, he wished he'd come to his decision a long time ago and spared the whole house those feelings.
His eyes slowly opened again, Hugh turning his head slightly in order to view the torturer tiredly. He ran the last sentence through his mind again, then frowned uncertainly.
"A good show?" he followed Naveen's gaze to the wardrobe, then back again. "Like what?"
"Oh, I do not know. We don't want to get to any of the big things too quickly, now do we? But we cannot have you getting bored with the proceedings."
Naveen didn't actually want to touch Jackman, and he wouldn't unless it was otherwise unavoidable. Jackman'd been hurt enough already during the search, as evidenced by the bandages wrapped around his midsection. Even if Naveen would consider playing with an injured, non-consenting partner, Marton wouldn't approve of even another scratch or bruise showing up on Hugh.
But that didn't mean Naveen couldn't do his very best to make Jackman think that he was going to. "I could get that knife you seemed so fond of back out once more. Though I have plenty of whips and paddles that tend to be rather vicious and go over well with audiences. The metal studded ones, especially. Though I have lengths of chain that could prove useful... Candle wax, of course, I believe is too tame for a man like yourself. Maybe we could give you a tattoo?"
Tattoos. Hugh'd never even thought of tattoos being mentioned in a place like this, where lace and whips merged. The question flashed through his mind on what the subject matter would actually be of; decorative swirls? A picture? A written sentence, possibly of 'You Will Not Kidnap Others' to remind him? Either way, it wasn't something he would ever choose for himself. His body ached as it was, let alone with whips and paddles and chains - chains - entering the conversation.
Hugh shivered and his tired eyes moved back to the window again. Was this truly what the person behind it wanted? Was this what Eric wanted? One man's idea of punishment was often someone else's idea of being let off with a slap on the wrist. But whoever was behind there had to be there for a reason, either hope or security against accidents, and Hugh had harmed so many people in the house - all of whom had a justified reason to see the whip, paddle or chain flash into action. If 'the show' happened, then either the person would interrupt to stop Naveen from doing his task, or would settle back to enjoy the show.
Hugh shifted uncomfortably again. If he genuinely wanted to prove his sincerity, then it was only fair to allow the others their chance for retaliation. The torturer might do unsavoury things, but at least the man knew what he was doing with his tools; the only problem was the broken ribs and other injuries, but Hugh suspected the man knew his craft well enough to avoid that. However, was Naveen supposed to be doing this in the first place or was it pure emotion driving the torturer's actions? Eric and Vin might desire physical action against him - although he still couldn't really see the peaceful, kind hearted Bana in that light - but Hugh was pretty sure that Freeman wouldn't be too happy that punishment began without his confirmation. That meant Hugh had to seriously keep his mouth shut if asked outside the room otherwise the torturer would most likely end up in trouble as well. Hugh was supposed to be here to heal the damage he had caused, not inflict more injuries into the heart of the house.
One hand curled around the chain of the shackle that held him to the bed as he looked back at Naveen steadily, fighting the fear that was present in the back of his mind. Colin had been so clear about avoiding punishment, and Hugh had kept to that well until this point in time. But if there was even the faintest chance that either Eric or Vin or Sawyer wanted it to start like this, then there was nothing else he could do but agree.
"Not the tattoo," he said, hoping his words came across stronger than he felt. "Hard to hide from your boss."
Hugh fell silent, not wanting to offer a suggestion but knowing he couldn't exactly say no to one without giving something back. But what to suggest? The only part of his body that could risk to be hit was the lower half, and he liked his lower half. He also realised he had absolutely no idea what affect chains or paddles would have on a body; his imagination could run wild, but what looked good and what actually did damage were two different things. Paddles sounded mild, but probably felt differently. He could only think of chains breaking bones, which couldn't be the case but he couldn't imagine any other result. No. There was one weapon he did know, through so many years in the saddle rounding up animals of various forms, and it was the weapon of his youth that Hugh returned to. It was fitting, in a loud, painful way.
"Be better with a whip," Hugh heard his voice calmly say. "On somewhere I can hide it. Or perhaps I can claim it's from the earlier fight,"
Hugh hesitated, then looked up at him again, his eyes soft and vulnerable for a second before his shield came back up. It wasn't the physical punishment that tore at him, he had expected that from the moment the House caught them before they had made their way back to the city. No, it was the thought of Eric gaining pleasure from watching it that really hurt, that Hugh had damaged him so badly that the man had taken refuge in a response that seemed so alien to Bana's personality. Damage to Eric that was unforgivable.
"If you truly think Eric would want this to happen," he added before he could stop himself.
Naveen nearly sighed in exasperation. Things had once again veered off the course he had adopted. He had only just decided to go with the idea that Jackman thought he was here to get punishment. And now that he had, Jackman thought Naveen was going to, what? Scene with him? Or beat him, without consent? Even though what Jackman offered now was near consent-but for all the wrong reasons.
"You seem to be under the assumption of several things that are just not true, Mr. Jackman. For one, what makes you think that 'my boss' isn't behind all of this? Secondly, what makes you think that you have any say at all in what happens to you? Have I not been telling you to stop thinking about yourself like that? I will decide what happens here."
Hopefully that would get Jackman back on the right track. And hopefully the continued belief that Eric was watching would only increase his anxiety. Naveen wondered if the duo watching were still there, they had gone so quiet, but Naveen knew that it as much as Eric was disinclined to watch, Dom and Billy were the exact opposite.
Hugh's eyes slid back to the window, getting more and more confused over the situation. Who exactly was giving the orders? Was it Eric, watching silently, or had the boss of the house come to his decision already and given instructions? Hell, were they still discussing it, but the first stage had already begun? Hugh had assumed that he had been put into the room purely for guarding purposes, but nothing made sense anymore. Perhaps this whole thing was a bad dream and he would wake up in a normal bed on a normal day.
"Sorry," he mumbled. "Just meant I wasn't going to stop you."
As soon as the words left his mouth, he realised how utterly idiotic it sounded. He was chained to a bed, wearing very little with enough bruises to turn him into a human shaped domino. There was no way he was going to be able to stop anyone, even if he wanted to.
"Argue," Hugh amended as swiftly as he could. "Wasn't going to argue. Just offering suggestions."
He shifted again, uncomfortably. He hated not knowing what was happening, or what form it was likely to take. On the other hand, asking was likely to get the torturer in more of a mood than he was already. Hugh hesitated, then came to a decision. Fuck it. Naveen seemed the type to be grumpy most of the time, and if it was going to happen then it needed to happen before Hugh chickened out of it. Well, attempted to chicken out, anyway. The shackles to the bed situation was still going to mean that the torturer was going to win regardless.
"So is this indecisiveness planned as well?" Hugh kept his voice as casual as he could, hoping it would irritate the other man to finally begin the punishment before it drove him insane. "Or are you going to roll a dice?"
A slight pang of remorse hit Naveen as he watched Jackman shift yet again. He was sure that the man was experiencing pain from the strain his position put on his injuries, and that he should move the man to a more comfortable position.
But then Naveen thought of Josh, and the way he had laid so still on that bed, and he remembered who this was. The man was responsible for bodily injuries on at least four people, and emotional injuries on a lot more. Again, he reminded himself that this was not a session; Jackman deserved his pain.
"Indecisiveness? I think not," Naveen snorted. "I was merely deciding which activities should be done first. We don't want to send you past the point of no return too quickly, do we? You have a lot of crimes against you, as you know. Acting prematurely would defeat the purpose."
As he thought of those people, those crimes, letting it fuel his anger, inspiration struck. A twisted smile worked its way across Naveen's face, and he reached into his toy chest. Pulling out a large, wooden phallus, he looked at Jackman thoughtfully and said, "Eric was naked for the time you took him, was he not? You raped him."
That shut him up entirely. Hugh's horrified eyes turned from the torturer to the 'toy' and then back at the torturer again. God, no, please.
"I didn't touch the guy.. or at least not like that, anyway!" he amended, remembering the bump on the head that Eric had received and the accidental scrapes from the coffin that had turned up through misjudgement. "He was naked because it made it harder for him to escape!"
Okay, that didn't sound exactly innocent. Hugh tried not to panic, but it was increasingly difficult when he was chained to a bed faced with a man bearing a toy of that size and a gleam in his eye that spoke of unpleasantness.
"I didn't touch him," he repeated steadily. "Ask him!"
"I believe I have mentioned this to you before, but why would I believe Eric? Even though you can no longer hurt him, he is... emotionally confused. It is a dangerous thing." Eric, as far as Naveen had heard, truly believed Jackman was a good man.
But Naveen had seen the damage he had done, and knew for a fact that there was no way that this man could be anything but the worst kind of scum. He would have to be, to be such a good liar to bewitch his own victim into believing such things.
Naveen loomed closer, pondering the toy carefully. "You were fucking when you drugged Eric, and Vin. That much one could tell just by looking at the mess you made. So, obviously, you feel sexual attraction towards Eric. And I am supposed to believe that while he was naked, and helpless, you did not take advantage? I find that hard to believe. But now I have you here. Helpless."
When it was said like that, Hugh could see the point. However, it was the other point that was really capturing his attention, the blunted, wooden, hard, large point that formed the tip of the toy. He swallowed and shifted position again, ignoring his body's objections to the movement. If the torturer was right, that he wasn't listening to Eric's opinions and this whole situation was Freeman approved, then he was utterly screwed. Bana had been his only real hope for any type of leniency.
He shot another look at the window again, praying that the whole thing had been a set up to wind him up, but the window was unsurprisingly giving nothing away.
"Okay, yeah, I did all that, and yes, I find them both attractive, but that doesn't mean I did anything to them whilst they were drugged!" Hugh tried to keep the anxiety out of his voice but it was getting increasingly difficult. His hands curled further around his bonds, trying to resist the urge to fight against them.
"I know I'm a bastard, but there are some lines you just don't cross. I'm not a rapist. Not now, not ever," he was one step away from a full blown plea.
Jackman was exactly where Naveen wanted him, finally. Worried. Paranoid. Confused. Even scared. Naveen was very pleased, probably more then he wanted to admit. It felt so good to have the control back in his hands, and even better to have Jackman so off his center.
"You have proven yourself as a liar, Jackman. You lied to get in here, and to gain our trust. I do not believe you." Naveen wasn't sure what actually happened during the time Eric was with Jackman, but he knew in his heart that someone like Jackman was incapable of being sincere, and at there very least probably coerced Eric somehow.
Grabbing the vial of oil sitting on the small table next to the bed, Naveen thumbed off the stopper. He poured a small stream down onto the toy, before setting the small bottle back in it's place, still open.
"Now, since you said you would not 'argue,' I assume you are going to be a good boyand not fight as we remove your trousers." It was not a question. There was really only one acceptable answer. Holding the now-glistening wooden dildo back, Naveen let his hand come to rest over Jackman's waistband.
He knew what he had said, and had genuinely meant it, and if it had been for anything else he would have stayed perfectly still and tried to prove that he could take responsibility for his actions, but this wasn't anything else and it was for something he didn't even do. He had enough crimes as it was without needing any more. Hugh watched each movement with a look of absolute horror, and immediately tried to twist away from the deceptively gentle hand that touched the linen trousers he had been dressed in. Or at least attempted to, anyway. He gasped in pain and had to sink back against the bed, the sudden movement too much for his injured ribs. No, he couldn't. Not like this, and not by him. What the hell had happened to a good, solid beating?
"Don't you fucking touch me!" Hugh panted desperately. "If your boss wants it then he can come and tell me himself rather than use his goon-,"
He almost jumped out of his skin again as something thumped, seemingly in the wall, and an echoy noise sounded as though a ghost had suddenly woken up and become interested in the proceedings. What the hell?!
Hugh's wide eyes searched the room but there was absolutely no one else there, and the window seemed thick enough not to have any sound leaking in from there. He squirmed again, trying to find an escape route that just didn't exist, then froze as a familiar voice suddenly formed in the room.
"in the walls...or maybe bodies..."
Eric. Hugh's eyes turned to Naveen again, confused and anxious. Was that supposed to happen, and since when were bodies turning up? Had the plans changed?
Naveen paused, looking away from Jackman's questioning look. It was easy for him to recognize Eric's voice through the thin metal tube that worked its way down one wall. He was as confused as Jackman about what was being said, but he wasn't going to let it show.
Luckily, Hugh didn't seem to realize that the presence of Eric's voice proved that the bouncer wasn't in the viewing booth, but that could change at any moment. Though even if he did, it would likely only confuse Jackman more, and Naveen knew that wouldn't be a bad thing.
Naveen set the toy carefully on the bed, but it still rolled to rest against Jackman. He gave it a vaguely annoyed look, but didn't take the effort to remove it. It would be fascinating to see how Jackman responded to it, but unfortunately there was not time or effort into seeing.
Without another word to his prisoner, Naveen left the dark, atmospheric playroom to find out what was causing the commotion. He stopped only to kick his eavesdroppers out of their hiding place, and herd them up the stairs.
When Naveen finally returned to Hugh's side, his face was tense and his lips a thin line. "Circumstances have changed. It seems that the owners need to gather more information."
More information? From who? And how? Hugh tensed further, trying to see past the little mask that Naveen was wearing that seemed to be of irritation and distaste, as far as he could see. Neither of those gave him any confidence. The toy that had tormented him lay pressed against his leg, reminding him of the punishment that Hugh had thought had already been decided. Had the House relented? Or had their suspicions and paranoia already built to the stage where every little piece of information would be assessed, piece by piece, until they were satisfied they had everything?
He kept utterly still as the torturer prowled, Hugh's breathing shallow and his heart too loud in his chest. Bodies, Eric had said. Bodies. Whose? Why? Was it simply their little death plan to confuse the House's enemies, or had someone been more injured than he believed? Had someone actually died from his actions?
Hugh's eyes widened at that thought, and tried not to focus on the door. He'd find out soon enough what the change of circumstance was about, he was sure.
He only hoped it was for the better, for every-one's sake.
Word Count: ~9215
Be sure to come along with us next time as we continue to pop in on various scenes following the 'Searchers' return