by Adara Wolf
“You’ve done your homework,” Tracht murmured. He slid away from her, but she closed the distance between them.
“I had to know who was buying up the debt. After all, if you dumped him, I would have had no choice but to simply take him as a bondservant myself.”
She reached out to touch his face, and that was something he absolutely couldn’t abide. He grabbed her wrist and carefully stood up, moving a good few feet away from her.
“I’ve perhaps misrepresented the situation. Alex was not the original target of the kidnapping. That was Johan Lysander, my nephew.”
That, at least, got Nilsen’s interest. “Oh-ho. So, are you here on behalf of Mr. and Ms. Lysander?” Then she shook her head. “No. You would have opened with that.” She tapped her chin theatrically. “But, I suppose I could help you. I don’t need the rest of the debt repaid, but I am not opposed to it either. However. I’d like something in return. A favor.”
Everything in Tracht told him it would be a bad idea. It was not smart to get involved with the Nilsens. If anybody found out—
But he couldn’t get the image of Alex, bound and bleeding, out of his head. Alex with his fingers broken. Alex crying out in pain, and it wasn’t even pain that Tracht had caused.
He stopped himself from agreeing immediately, at least. “What kind of favor?”
She pretended to think about it. “A shipment. Sometime in the coming year, I’m going to need a container moved to Pylos. You will transport it from here to Atalanta.”
“If it’s inspected—”
“It probably won’t go well for you.” Nilsen smiled broadly. “I would recommend making sure that particular container isn’t inspected.”
“Once.” Tracht emphasized. “One container, and no more. And only on the condition that we get Alex back alive.”
“What about your nephew?”
Tracht shrugged. “He’s not my concern.”
[Chapter 5]
The kid was crying. Pretending not to, but Alex knew the sounds of somebody sniffling and holding back sobs. He wasn’t even sure what the kid was crying about, because as far as he could tell Johan had gotten a tiny cut and that was it.
Fuck, the blood on his face was starting to itch. Good thing his hands were bound, or he’d be scratching at the new cuts. Woulda probably hurt his broken hand even more, trying to use it to relieve the itch.
The kid kept sniffling. Alex pried his eyelids open and glanced over, but as far as he could tell the little cut on the kid's face was the extent of his torture.
Johan caught him looking. “Alex?”
“What?”
“Are we—are we gonna be okay?” Johan started crying harder. “I want to go home.”
“I think they’re gonna kill us,” Alex said. The bitch’s voice hadn’t even changed when she’d told him that. Just a matter-of-fact statement, like she really had no qualms about murder. Alex knew he wasn’t the nicest guy himself, but he wouldn’t go around murdering people. Not even annoying kids.
“I don’t wanna die!” Johan wailed.
“Shut up!” Alex hissed. “Don’t draw their attention! The less trouble we are, the longer they’ll keep us alive.”
Though if that life was going to be endless torture, Alex thought he would rather have the quick death.
While he was wishing for shit, he wished it was Tracht holding him captive instead. He was pretty sure that any cuts Tracht made woulda been hot, somehow. Alex couldn’t figure out how Tracht did it either. How stuff that shoulda been terrifying and horrible somehow got Alex hot and bothered, even while he was in pain and crying and hating it.
Alex was pretty sure Tracht wouldn’t have broken his hand. Maybe bent it really hard to the point of unbearable pain, but not actually breaking it. Did the broken hand count as a body mod?
He ignored Johan’s crying and dozed as well as he could, imagining Tracht’s hands on him, Tracht’s voice whispering nasty things into his ear. Afterwards, they’d lay entangled on the bed. Alex really wanted to kiss Tracht now. He hadn’t been allowed to touch Tracht at all that previous day, because of the stupid school fair and the kids.
The door opened.
“Time for another video session!” the bitch said. “Who wants to have fun with torture right now?”
She pulled her tray of tools close to them and picked up a long needle. “That tongue piercing of yours gave me an idea,” she said to Alex. “There are so many fun places to poke a person!”
Needles were probably okay, Alex told himself. Nadia loved needles. She’d explained how the pain was sharp but fast, how you needed a lot of them to really build up the sensations. He’d watched her squirm and cry while Singh and Fontaine stuck her with sharp needles all over, from her tits to her cunt.
He remembered Tracht whispering in his ear, “I should let them slide those needles through the skin of your cock.”
Alex had begged Tracht to do anything but that, and Tracht had been so damned pleased about it that Alex hadn’t even cared how pathetic he’d acted.
He was pretty sure this bitch wasn’t going to pierce his cock. Probably.
The henchman set up the camera while the bitch lifted up Alex’s shirt and lightly poked his nipple with the needle. “I’m kind of disappointed you aren’t already pierced here.”
“Contract says no body mods,” Alex said.
She tapped on his chin. “So what’s that on your tongue?”
“Had it before I got into debt.”
He avoided her eyes and hoped she wouldn’t see through the lie. Not that it mattered, but he didn’t want her to know about what Tracht did to him. It was important that she didn’t know.
“It’s not gonna work,” the guy said. “The angle’s not right.”
“So move the camera.” She sounded exasperated, and her next poke was a bit more forceful. Alex grit his teeth and refused to make a sound.
“Whatever, poking him with a needle’s not gonna do much anyway. Not unless you poke his eye out.”
Fucking hell. Alex blinked quickly and tried to get that image out of his mind. Bad enough she’d threatened to cut his eyes with a scalpel earlier. He didn’t want to lose an eye. He didn’t want a needle anywhere near his eyes.
Johan sniffled loudly.
“Has some merit, but no, that’s way too messy.” The bitch dropped the needle back onto the tray. “But we could take something out. How about… a tooth?”
And she held up pliers.
==
The next video came just as Tracht returned to Anna’s mansion.
He could tell something was different immediately. Alex had broken out in a sweat, and his mouth was pressed into a thin line. He was trembling lightly and kept shaking his head.
The abductor waved their hand in front of the camera. “Last couple of times weren’t quite so traumatizing. I thought it was time to step up my game, just to remind you that the clock is ticking.”
A pair of pliers appeared in front of the camera, and Tracht’s vision whited out with rage. No. This was unacceptable.
“We’re trying as fast as we can!” Anna said. “Cash of that amount is hard to come by!”
“I was thinking a fingernail,” the torturer said.
That seemed to surprise Alex, who gasped and looked somewhere off camera, to where the abductor must be standing.
No. Alex thought the nail would be preferable. Tracht could see it now. He pulled up his tablet and typed out a message, then slid it over to Anna.
She looked down, startled. After a brief confused glance in Tracht’s direction, she said, “Please—Please don’t. That’s expensive to fix.”
The abductor laughed. “Yeah, wouldn’t want your fucktoy damaged, huh? Well, how about this. I’ll pull out a tooth instead. Got a preference there?”
“No!” Alex shouted and started struggling, but he was bound tightly, and Tracht wanted to yell at him to calm the fuck down, to be smart, but he couldn’t say anything.
Ann
a grimaced at Alex’s panic. “Yes, actually. Lower jaw, left side, first molar.”
“That’s weird, but okay. Open up, buddy! This is just like going to the dentist!”
The camera zoomed in on Alex’s mouth. A second pair of hands came on screen and pried Alex’s jaws apart. The hand holding the pliers shoved roughly inside, violating Alex’s mouth, and Alex started sobbing.
Tears mingled with the crusted blood on his face, his eyes scrunched shut, his body shaking. It should have been a beautiful scene.
Tracht hated it. He hated every moment, but he forced himself to watch. He hoped Alex realized that he’d tried to spare him.
He hoped he got time alone with that torturer, because he was going to make them regret their actions for the rest of their life.
==
“I don’t think they intend to let Johan live,” Koteas said. She looked visibly shaken, and Anna and Vasilis weren’t much better off. They’d all paled considerably.
“Don’t say that!” Anna shouted. “They’re just… toying with us.” She looked to Vasilis for reassurance, but he was holding his hand over his mouth, more ill than the rest of them.
“Are you going to trust that?” Tracht asked. “Are you going to trust that what they want is your money, and not your suffering? Because that—” that torturer, that monster “—that was a sadist. And not the gentle, tame ones you’ll find in the clubs.”
Tracht folded his arms and concentrated on breathing steadily. Keeping his cool.
“Didn’t that bother you?” Anna clenched her fists. “Are you really so cold that torture is nothing to you?”
“Throwing—” Tracht stopped. He couldn’t lose his temper. “Throwing a tantrum won’t get Alex back quicker.” He paused briefly. “Thank you, for reading my note.”
She shook her head and laughed hysterically. “Why did you even care which tooth they take? It’s all same! They’re going to torture and kill Johan and you’re more concerned about which specific tooth they rip out of your pet goon!”
“Anna!” Vasilis said sharply. “Don’t goad him. And Alex is a person too. He’s the one who got tortured.”
Tracht had wondered if Vasilis shared Anna’s callousness towards bond servants. He was, irritatingly, grateful for the support.
“I… yes. You’re right. I’m just… I’m so worried about Johan.” She slumped into the chair next to Vasilis and embraced him.
Koteas cleared her throat, startling all of them. “I just received a message. My staff might have a lead.” She pulled up a photo on her tablet. It was blurry, but they could clearly see a larger vehicle pulling away from the school.
“We’ve accounted for all other vehicles. This one does not belong to any of the families registered at the school.”
It wasn’t much to go on, and the license plate was obscured, but just that small droplet of information was enough to give everybody a glimmer of hope.
Koteas explained how she and her team were going to track down the vehicle and how best to deal with the next call they received.
Tracht sent the image on to both Espinosa and Anja Nilsen.
Then there was nothing left to do but wait.
[Chapter 6]
Alex’s mouth hung open, and blood and drool dripped down the side. He should probably close it.
Even swallowing hurt.
He kept his eyes closed, because if he opened them he’d have to look at that tray of implements, with the blood-stained pliers and his tooth lying next to them.
Same tooth. The same damn tooth that had been fixed once before. The tooth Tracht had given him back.
He was probably crying. His eyes felt swollen.
The bitch and her dog were saying something. He couldn’t really hear them. He flinched away when her hands touched his jaw, but that made her grip even tighter, and the pain flared up again.
Peter Nilsen laughed in his ear, only that couldn’t be right. He blinked away the wetness in his eyes and looked up. Only masked faces, stuffing cotton into his mouth to soak up the blood.
Crying, somewhere in the room. Maybe it was Nick, begging for another chance. Begging for them to spare him.
Yeah, Alex would go into bond servitude if it kept him from having to deal with this anymore. If his jaw could move, he’d tell them so.
Nick should just get on with talking them out of trouble. That was Nick’s job. Alex was too stupid for any of that.
If his mouth didn’t hurt so much, Alex would beg for forgiveness. Tracht liked it when Alex begged. Alex was good at begging. He tried to say “please” but all that came out was a pained moan.
How was he going to get Tracht to forgive him now?
The crying in the room got louder. Alex closed his eyes and tried very hard not to think about his mouth.
==
Nilsen contacted Tracht two hours later.
Found them. Come to the underside warehouses, alone. A set of coordinates was included after that.
“Alone” was dangerous, but Tracht didn’t even think about refusing. He told Anna he was going to check on his ship, ignored her anger, and left.
It took another half hour to wind his way to the underside warehouses. They were a layer below the docks, meant for long term storage of goods. Tracht had been there on occasion, meeting with a client who had something stored here that they needed transporting, but overall it was not a location that Tracht was intimately familiar with. The hum of the station’s main engine was louder here, and the only light came from the dull street lamps. The upper levels of the station were already approximating a dawn; down here, nobody could pretend they were anywhere but in space.
A larger vehicle was waiting at the specified coordinates, and the door opened when he got closer. Cautiously he approached, and Tracht saw Anja Nilsen sitting inside.
“Do join us,” she said, and Tracht obliged since he had little other choice.
Anja Nilsen sat on one side, her two brothers across from her. Her youngest brother, Peter, was blond with a full beard, dressed in what Tracht considered ‘organized crime casual.’
The other brother, Erik, was slimmer, with darker hair and sharper features, but the family resemblance held in the nasty expression on his face.
Tracht settled himself next to Anja Nilsen. “Well?”
“Straight to the point, I see. Scarface is being held inside here,” Anja Nilsen pointed to a map on her tablet. “Which is funny, since I’m pretty sure I own at least part of that building, and I never gave permission for its use.”
“The image of the vehicle you sent was helpful,” Erik Nilsen said. “We were able to match it to footage on our security cameras.”
“Still don’t see why we’re even bothering,” Peter Nilsen muttered, but he shut up when Anja Nilsen shot him a glare.
“I’ve got people going in there to neutralize the culprits. Got any requests?”
“The gang leader. Whoever it was doing the torture,” Tracht paused. “I would appreciate them subdued, but alive. I have a few words I would like to exchange with them.”
“Are they going to be alive when you’re done with them?” Anja Nilsen asked. “Because I can think of a few fun things I’d like to do…”
“I’m not in the habit of murder, no.” Tracht smiled sharply at her. “I’ll make sure to leave you the sloppy seconds.”
Anja Nilsen laughed loudly. “Thanks. I think the two of us could be friends, Johannes.”
“Tracht, if you please,” Tracht corrected her.
That made her laugh all the more, because they both knew he couldn’t stop her from calling him whatever she wanted, especially not here. She had the advantage in spades.
It was unsettling, but Tracht found he preferred that mild feeling of discomfort to the burning anger that threatened to overwhelm him if he thought about what had been done to Alex.
Finally, Erik Nilsen received a call from whatever subordinates they had sent out to do their dirty work. They all got out of the vehicle, P
eter Nilsen leading the way to their target.
The warehouse had a row of offices along one side, and here several large people armed with stun batons lingered. Two men were tied up near the exit.
“Four in total, Boss,” one underling said, addressing Anja Nilsen. “We got the other two in separate rooms, like you said. The woman put up a real fight.”
“She would,” Anja Nilsen murmured. “She’s the leader of a professional saboteur team. Came in a few weeks ago.” She looked over her shoulder at Tracht. “You should probably tell your brother-in-law his current business acquisition isn’t all that popular.”
Probably. Tracht didn’t particularly care at the moment. “Where’s Alex?”
When the underling frowned, Peter Nilsen piped up with, “Scarface.”
“Oh! Uh, in the large office on the corner.”
Rushing wasn’t a good idea. It would give away his emotions. It would show Anja Nilsen just how important Alex was to him. She would have more on him, another hook—
He doubled his stride and went into the room.
==
Alex was still tied to the chair. His beautiful hair was matted and messy, his mouth a mess of blood and spit and cotton.
Tracht closed the distance between them and laid a hand on Alex’s head.
Alex flinched.
It had been months since Alex had flinched away from Tracht. Even when Tracht gave Alex pain, Alex took it beautifully. When Tracht gave him pleasure, Alex drank it up greedily, and his devotion shone in his eyes.
There was nothing in Alex’s eyes now.
Tracht let go and clenched his fists. He didn’t like how he was feeling. He didn’t like the worry and the rage, intertwining into another unfamiliar combination. How ironic that it was Alex who’d brought so many damned emotions to Tracht.
He pressed a kiss to Alex’s forehead, and here Alex blinked and moved his mouth, but he made no sound, gave no sign that he acknowledged that it was Tracht touching him.
Tracht heard Johan’s whimper, and that reminded him that his nephew was there too. The brat was tied to a chair in the corner, blindfolded and gagged. Tracht let go of Alex and turned to face his nephew.
