Finding Alex - 16. Chapter 16

“Sacha. Sacha, please wake up, I’m scared. Sacha.”

Sacha groaned. There seemed to be an earthquake going on. The room was shaking. He kept his eyes tightly closed because he really didn’t want to have to deal with that. He had enough problems. He knew he had problems. He just couldn’t remember what they were.

“Sacha, please, you’re scaring me. You’ve been out for hours. I thought you were dead. Please wake up.”

Slowly, Sacha came to realise the earthquake was, in fact, James shaking him.” He tried to raise a hand to bat James’ hands away, but he was too weak. He could only get it to rise about six inches off the floor.

“Sacha.” The relief in James voice almost brought tears to Sacha’s eyes. With an enormous struggle he managed to open his eyes.

James was not the neat, together person Sacha had seen so far. His hair was sticking up, as if he’d been running his hands through it, over and over, and he seemed to be crying.

“James?”

“Are you alright now?”

Sacha tried to speak but it came out as a moan.

“Please be alright,” James said in a small voice. “I’m scared.”

What could Sacha say? Even if he could speak he had no reassurances for James. How could he say everything would be alright when he knew for sure it wouldn’t?

Sacha closed his eyes for a moment, trying to take stock. He didn’t seem to be hurt in any way. He was warm and comfortable and not tied up. Things could have been worse.

“Sacha? Don’t go back to sleep, please.” James sounded so young and so scared, like one of the little ones. With a sigh, Sacha opened his eyes again.

“Help me up.” This time he managed to speak the words and James eagerly yanked him upright. The room swirled and, with a moan, Sacha fell back.

“What’s wrong?”

“Give me a minute.”

“Please be alright. I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

“I’m fine. Be okay in a minute.”

Next time, Sacha sat up carefully. He was lying sprawled on an old mattress pushed into the corner of a room. It was too much for him to examine the room in any great detail, so he dragged himself up to sit with his back against the wall. Sick and dizzy, Sacha leaned his head back against the wall and shuddered. He was so cold.

“Sacha?”

Sacha raised his head to look at James. “I’m alright. James, just drugged. It always knocks me out more than anyone else. Ryland gives me too much all the time. I’ll be alright in a minute.”

“Okay.” James sat down next to Sacha. Sacha couldn’t deny that his big, solid presence was comforting. Somehow, he slipped sideways and rested his aching head on James’ shoulder.

Gradually, the effects of the drug diminished and Sacha started to feel better. “How long have we been here?” Sacha asked after a while.

“I don’t know. There’s no window and they took my watch and phone.”

Sacha sat up straight and looked around.

The room looked like a cellar. There was no window, and the walls and floor were concrete. Apart from the mattress there was no furniture.

“What’s going to happen to us?”

“Ryland wants to put us both to work.”

“What kind of work?”

“What do you think? We’re not going to be working in a shop.”

“I’m not doing it,” James said. “No way.”

Sacha turned to him. James looked terrified but stubborn. A feeling of protectiveness swept over him.

“Listen to me. You have a chance. You have to pretend you’re in with this. You have to go along with everything Ryland tells you to do – whatever it is.”

“No way.”

“James, if you fight him, he will hurt you, and he’ll keep on hurting you until you stop fighting. If you go along with everything, be totally obedient, Ryland will eventually let you see clients outside the house. Then you’ll have your chance. “You’re big, not like the kids were. You can get away from them. If you can get free, even for a moment, you can run. You can attract attention, get someone to help, and if all else fails you can cause so much trouble you’ll get arrested. Trash a shop, attack a policeman, anything that’s enough for you to be held and not handed over to Ryland.”

“But I can’t. I can’t…do that.”

“You can do whatever it takes. Trust me, you will do it. If you fight it will just mean more pain for you. I mean real pain, James.”

“He wouldn’t hurt us that much,” James said, half defiant and half terrified.

“He’ll hurt you as much as it takes. Listen, Ryland is a monster. He hurts people just because he can and because he enjoys it. Don’t give him the satisfaction.”

“Did you fight him?”

“No. I was only a child when he started with me. They did something to me to make me forget. I didn’t know anything but Ryland. I thought he was my father for a long time.

“But you must have known something was wrong – that he shouldn’t have done that to you.”

“How could I? I didn’t go to school. I wasn’t allowed to read books or watch television, other than what Ryland allowed us to, which was mainly baby stuff. I grew up thinking the way I lived was the way everyone lived. Ryland kept telling me he loved me, that he loved us all and the things he did were for our own good.”

“What about the…you know…sleeping with men?” James whispered the last words and went pale.

“How was I supposed to know that was wrong? We all did it. It was normal for me.”

“So why did you run away in the end?”

“There was a new boy. He was only a baby, maybe eight or nine. Whatever they did to make us forget must have gone wrong because he was scared and crying for his mother all the time. They took him away and when he came back he was…different. He didn’t talk and his eyes were…empty. That’s when I realised that whatever they were doing was wrong. I started thinking about my mother and…” Sacha bit his lip, unable to continue.

“What happened to them? The other kids? Did my Dad get them out?”

“No, there was a fire. Ryland set explosives all around the house. We all knew that if anything went wrong he’d set them off. That’s another reason we all obeyed him and did what we were told. He told us that if anyone stepped too far out of line he’d blow us all to kingdom come. None of us knew what kingdom come was but we figured that whatever, being blown up wasn’t going to do us any good.”

“Oh my god. They died? All the kids died? He burned them alive.”

“No.” The look of relief on James’ face didn’t last long.

“Ryland isn’t one to take chances. He poisoned them first – to make sure no one survived. He didn’t even do it himself. He got one of the older boys at the house to give the poison to the little ones, then remotely detonated the explosives. No one survived. No one.” Sacha’s voice cracked and he bit his lip hard to fight the tears that, despite his best efforts, spilled and ran down his cheeks. Surprisingly, James slipped his arm around Sacha and held him tightly. Between the drug, the memories and James’ kind gesture, it was all too much for him and he started to sob.

James patted Sacha on the back, awkwardly. “Don’t cry,” he said. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay, James. Nothing is okay.”

“I know. It’s just…what you say isn’t it? You know – what people say.”

“Yeah.” Sacha hiccupped and made another attempt to staunch the tears, with a little more success. At least he managed to stop the sobbing.

When the sobbing waned, exhaustion hit and Sacha fell asleep with his head on James’ shoulder and James’ arm a comfortable weight on his.

Sacha woke suddenly to James frantic voice and the shaking of his shoulder.

“Wake up. Someone’s coming.”

Sacha sat up, blinking sleepy eyes, as the door swung open to admit Ryland and the man they’d seen earlier. Sacha was pretty sure he was the only other person in the house. Ryland didn’t like having to feed any more mouths than necessary, which is why most of the housework was done by the older boys and the other staff came in from outside. He also didn’t like to trust too much to others.

“Good evening boys, glad to see you awake. I know what Sacha’s like and I just can’t seem to get it right. Without the good doctor’s help I’m going to have to practice – a lot.”

Sacha shivered. He hated being drugged. The whole experience was horrific to him, especially when he had to work with altered consciousness.

“No sleeping for you today, though. I’m putting on a nice show for you.” Ryland smiled at him in a way that made his skin crawl.

“What do you mean?”

Ryland’s smile widened then abruptly was wiped from his face. “You. On your feet,” he directed at James.

“What? Me? No, please, I…”

Quite calmly, Ryland took a gun out of its holster under his jacket and pointed it at James’ head. “On your feet,” he said, in the same soft, calm voice. James scrambled up, looking terrified. Sacha carefully got to his knees. “Stay where you are Sacha,” Ryland said pleasantly but with a definite edge in his voice.

When James was standing Ryland put the gun to his head. “Strip,” he said.

“What are you going to do to me?” James said, absolute panic in his voice. Sacha wanted to reach out to him but knew it would only make matters worse. Instead he kept his eyes on his brother, willing him to just go along with whatever was required of him.

“I’m going to teach you both a lesson, and one of the things you’re going to learn is never to question me.” Ryland opened a box his man had put on the low table that was the only other piece of furniture in the room. Sacha shuddered as he took out item after item and laid them on the table. Whips, handcuffs, paddles, knuckles, bats. James panicked and tried to back away. The man behind him brought him up short and he turned, freaking out totally.

“Stop.” Sacha cursed himself as soon as the word slipped out of his mouth. His mind raced through possibilities and options. There weren’t many.

“I told you to keep out of this, Sacha. This is as much a punishment for you as a lesson for him.”

“No. Wait. I mean…wait. It’s business. Listen.”

“Business, eh? Okay, I’m listening. This had better be good, or you’re next.”

Sacha took a breath and swallowed hard. Here goes nothing. “He’s rich. He’s spent his whole life taking care of himself. His skin’s like a baby’s and he’s got a great body. You know clients will pay for that; they’ll pay a lot. If you mark him he’ll lose value. Whip me. It doesn’t matter if you mark me. My clients like it.”

Ryland frowned, a thoughtful expression on his face. Finally, he turned back to James, levelling the gun to his head. “Strip,” he said. “If he’s right I’ll change my plan.”

Still terrified, James looked to Sacha, who widened his eyes and shook his head slightly to warn James about being seen to seek approval from Sacha, before giving a tiny nod. With trembling fingers, James took off his t-shirt, shoes and jeans. Sacha knew Ryland didn’t need to have James naked, but both he and Sacha were being punished and humiliation was part of the deal.

When James was naked, Ryland moved him to stand under the single light bulb and examined every inch of him – every inch, while James gritted his teeth and occasionally whimpered. Sacha tried to catch his eye but James wouldn’t look at him. Sacha knew he was ashamed and would be for a long time. It was hard to kneel and watch his brother being abused like this. That, Sacha knew, was part of the point.

As much as he didn’t want to watch Sacha couldn’t help but and was slightly surprised by what he saw. James’ body was perfectly proportioned and tight, his skin glowing with an all over golden tan. He was perfect. In fact, he had the most perfect body Sacha had ever seen. Everyone else had some flaw somewhere.

Finally, Ryland stood up straight and moved back. “You’re right,” he said, almost begrudgingly. “He’s a nice piece of virgin arse and I’ll get good money for him. Alright, I have another idea.” He nodded at the lackey, then flicked his head to Sacha. “Strip him, cuff him and hang him.”

“Hang him?” James cried.

“It’s alright, James,” Sacha said hurriedly, as he got to his feet, “it’s not by my neck.” He glanced up at the ceiling and James followed his eyes to the hook neither of them had noticed before.

Sacha was hugely relieved that James was going to be spared a beating, but he definitely wasn’t looking forward to taking it himself. He knew he was in for a bad time, because Ryland was going to be taking all kinds of things out of him. He’d be a bloody mess by the time it was finished, he was sure.

The man was none too gentle and, by the time he hooked the ceiling hook into Sacha’s cuffs, he was already feeling like a piece of tenderised meat. The hook was high enough that Sacha couldn’t stand flat on his feet. It was either hang from his hands or stand on tiptoe.

When the man stepped away, Ryland moved in close and ran his hands over Sacha’s body, making him shiver, as much with anticipation of what was coming next than the touch itself.

“I’ve missed you,” Ryland purred. “You were always my favourite. So beautiful.” Ryland took his chin in his hand and tilted his face up. He was a good few inches taller than Sacha, even when Sacha was on tiptoes. “You’re one of my greatest successes. Never forget that I was the one who made you this way, made you beautiful.” Ryland squeezed until Sacha squeaked with pain. “And don’t forget I can take it away. Beauty is a fragile thing, Sacha, like a flower. You propagate it, nurture it, adore it, then pick it and crush it – and I can crush you any time I want. I can take a knife to that pretty face and no one will ever look at you without pity or fear again.”

Sacha swallowed hard. He could do it, there was no doubt about that; he was capable of it.

Ryland smiled and let go of Sacha’s face. “Okay,” he said, “let’s get this party started.” Carefully sorting through the whips, he selected one and unrolled it, testing it by cracking it a few times. Sacha winced and closed his eyes, waiting for the first blow.

“Let’s turn up the heat a little,” Ryland said, and Sacha opened his eyes again, surprised and curious. Ryland held out the whip to James. “You do it.”

“Me?” James gaped and took a half step back. “I can’t do it.”

“You will do it.” Ryland picked up the gun and aimed it at James’ head. “If you want to ever see the other side of that door, you’ll do it.”

James stared at Sacha. Sacha smiled and nodded. “Do it,” he said. “It’s okay. Haven’t you dreamed about this? Haven’t you spend years fantasizing about beating me bloody? Well this is your chance. Just tap into those feelings. Remember how much you hate me.”

“But, I… I don’t hate you.”

“Sure you do. It’s all my fault, remember? Your mother and father having no time for you. Your father sending you away to school. It’s all my fault. Remember that.”

“Nice pep talk, Sacha. Get a move on. Do it, or your brains will be decorating my walls.”

James’ hands trembled almost uncontrollably as he took the whip and walked over to Sacha. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“It’s okay. It’s really okay. Don’t hold back. He’ll punish you if he thinks you’re not doing your best. Don’t worry about me, I’m used to it.”

“You are?”

Sacha nodded. “Give it all the force you can.”

James nodded and swung the whip. It connected with Sacha’s buttocks but barely stung. “Harder,” Ryland ordered. James tried again, with little more force. Ryland snatched the whip from his hand. “You’re not tickling him.”

Sacha gritted his teeth and braced himself in preparation, but still let out a grunt and lurched forward when the whip bit into his back. Ryland swung again, this time across his buttocks. Sacha felt the tickle of blood from both wounds.

“I want to see blood, boy,” Ryland said to James. Sacha couldn’t see James’ face but he could imagine the expression.

“I’m sorry,” James whimpered and, this time, Sacha heard the whistle of the whip before it slashed across his back.

“Good work. More.”

Sacha heard James sob as he wielded the whip again and again. He knew James was pulling the blows and prayed Ryland wouldn’t notice. Even so, the pain was fierce and Sacha had to concentrate hard not to cry out. He sought out his safe place and found it easily this time. This was what he was used to after all. This, he understood.

“Move around. I want to see his sides, thighs and belly bleeding too.”

“But….”

“Do it. I’ll add twenty strokes for every time you question me.”

James bit his lip hard. Sacha could see his expression now, and it wasn’t pretty. His eyes were begging and Sacha tried to smile at him in reassurance. It wasn’t easy when his body felt as if it was on fire with a fierce, burning pain. Nausea burned his throat and he had to concentrate hard to keep on his feet, because he knew that if he lost his footing the pain would be magnified.

With every blow Sacha withdrew further inside. Sounds were muted, the room grew dark and the pan faded for a while. He was numb, inside and out, feeling nothing; thinking nothing.

Finally, Ryland called. “Alright, that’s enough.”

Sacha heaved a huge sigh of relief. His back, buttocks, thighs, belly and sides were a bleeding mess, literally raw meat. In places, the skin was almost shredded, and blood ran down his legs, to pool on the floor at his feet. He’d long passed the stage where he could stand and was hanging from his hands, his head on his chest with his hair falling to his knees.

James threw the whip on the floor and skittered backwards. He was sobbing.

“Nice work,” Ryland said. Sacha heard through a fog in his head and barely even winced when Ryland ran his hands over his ruined body. “I could make him do more. You can take it, can’t you, baby. You can take anything I throw at you.” Ryland lifted Sacha’s head by the hair and forced him to look into his face. “Have you had enough, little one? Tell me. Beg me to stop.” He should have. He really should have. Sacha knew that if he begged, Ryland would stop, take him down and leave him alone. He’d even bring him drugs to ease the pain.

But something inside rebelled and he growled. “I won’t beg.”

“Oh dear,” Ryland said, “wrong answer.”

Sacha gasped, as Ryland’s punched him in the stomach, driving the air from his lungs, leaving him gasping.

“You cost me, Sacha. You cost me a lot, and now you’re to pay. Beg me, or it won’t stop. If you pass out, I’ll wake you up. If you fight I’ll hit you harder. Beg me, bitch.”

“No.”

“Stubborn son of a bitch.” Ryland hit him again, and again. He then slipped on a set of brass knuckles and continued with the deadly, focussed blows, designed to cause maximum pain with minimum damage. At one point, Sacha knew he’d snapped a rib. From there on things became misty. It was so hard to breathe, he couldn’t get enough oxygen and the world faded and became unreal.

“Don’t pass out, bitch,” Ryland said, and punched him in the kidneys. Sacha couldn’t stop the scream. By that time he didn’t care. He tasted blood. He didn’t know if he’d bitten the inside of his mouth of if the blood was coming from somewhere inside. Another blow and Sacha came to the end of his tolerance. He’d had enough. He’d do anything to make it stop.

“Please,” he whispered, not even sure Ryland would hear.

Ryland raised Sacha’s head again. He was grinning. “What did you say?”

“Please stop.”

“Beg.”

“Please, please please. Don’t hurt me anymore. Please.”

“Not bad. I guess it’s the best I’m going to get for now. Okay. You’ve had enough. You won’t forget this lesson, will you?”

Sacha shook his head vaguely.

“Will you?”

Ryland hit him again and he whimpered. “No. No, I won’t forget.”

“Good.” Ryland turned to James. “Neither will you, I think.”

“N…no. I won’t forget. I’ll never forget.”

Ryland smiled and patted James, who cringed back. If Ryland noticed, he didn’t say anything. “Good boy. Get him down,” he said to the lackey as he passed, then he disappeared out of the door.

Sacha wasn’t aware of being taken down. By then he’d passed out.