Carter shakes his head with a sigh. "No."
"Then we're doing this."
"He's not trying to shut him up." Charlotte finally turns to face them, crossing her arms over her chest. "He's trying to get him to talk."
Rick leans back in his chair and studies her with a cold smile. He's not at all surprised she's figured it out; she knows him too well. Mark purses his lips and seems to be choosing his words with care.
"Might I just caution you to tread with care? If your intent is to goad him into a confession, you are going to have to be very careful about what you say."
Standing up and reaching for the folder, Rick rolls his eyes.
"Give me a little credit. Now, if you'll all excuse me, I have an appointment. Carter, your guy in place? To just… you know… keep an eye on things?"
Rick smiles to himself when Carter nods. If everything goes according to plan, Carter's guy will be able to do a lot more than just keep an eye on things.
♦♦♦
Joey
Joey takes a deep breath and tries again.
"Are you actually telling me you deleted the entire folder of logos?"
Will shrugs but doesn’t look even remotely concerned. "It was an accident. I was trying to finish something up to give to digital and it just sort of happened. I called IT but they said they couldn't reverse it. Sorry?"
"Will, it's three weeks' worth of work. We were ahead of schedule and now…"
"Guess we'll just have to start over won't we, Boss?"
Ignoring the sneering tone, Joey waves him away. "Just go and get started. Hopefully we'll be able to recreate it all fairly quickly but count on some late nights."
When the door shuts behind Will, Joey dials IT hoping against hope they might be able to give him some good news. He wants to believe it was an accident, but his gut says it isn't. Why does this have to happen now? There's enough to worry about with Blake and Maisie. He glances at his watch. Just after two-fifteen. Damn! Mark LeGrand will be here in a minute and he doesn't want the guy to think he's a total loser. Cutting off the still ringing call, Joey scribbles a reminder to try IT again later on a sticky-note and shuts his laptop.
He's still trying to get his thoughts together when someone taps on his door. Pulling on his jacket, he stands and calls to come in. A blond man in his late forties sticks his head around the door and smiles.
"Joey Harkin?"
"Yeah." Joey steps out from behind his desk and holds his hand out. "Please come in."
"Mark LeGrand. It's nice to finally meet you in person."
Joey offers the lawyer the chair by his desk and drags over the spare one from the corner. Glancing out the window to the office, he catches Will watching them and yanks the blinds shut before sitting down.
"Thank you for coming to see me."
"Well, let's see if I can help you before you thank me, okay?"
That's probably not a silly idea. Joey clasps his hands together in an effort to stop them shaking. "How much do you know about me, Mr. LeGrand?"
Legrand raises an eyebrow. "Please call me Mark and I'm not sure I understand."
Joey smiles. "It's okay. I know Rick has spoken to you about me. He's not nearly as quiet on the phone as he thinks he is. I'm just not sure how much you know."
To his surprise, Mark tips back in his chair and laughs. "Oh, you are just what Rick needs. " When Joey tilts his head in confusion, Mark waves the subject away. "I know that you and Rick are in a relationship. I know that you were abused and that your abuser has shown up. And that you believe he was the person who put Ian's partner Maisie in hospital."
"I know he did it, but that's beside the point for now. That's pretty much it in a nutshell." Joey smooths his palms over his thighs, frowning at the damp smear left behind. "Mark, I want to know how we put … the man who hurt me in jail. I don't want him to be able to hurt anyone else again."
Mark heaves a sigh and rests his forearms on his knees, eyes on Joey. "Well, that's kind of a loaded question and it depends on what we can prove. It would probably have to be a civil suit and it's always hard to get cases like these onto the docket, so it wouldn't be easy."
"By cases like these, you mean abuse and rape of a man by another a man?"
"I do, although it has to be said that even for cases involving heterosexuals it's not easy. The law is not always… what it should be. "
"No. I understand that." Joey runs his fingers through his hair. "Would I have to be the one who files the suit?"
"It would be best." Mark frowns. "I thought Rick said you didn't want to testify though."
For a long time, Joey doesn't answer. He sits in silence studying the misshapen fingers on his left hand.
"I don't but that's not important anymore. He hurt someone I care about and he'll keep doing it until someone stops him. I'm the only one who can do that. I just need you to tell me how to do that."
A strange look passes over Legrand's face. "Rick doesn't know you called me, does he?"
"No. Why does that matter? I can pay you. I have my own money."
Legrand stands and adjusts his glasses. "Joey, Rick is over the road at Barney's, confronting Blake Danvers right now."
The room around Joey swims; for a moment he's certain he's going to pass out. Staggering to his feet, he kicks the chair away with a low moan.
"No. No. He can't do that. He can't do that." He can hear the panic rising in his voice as he lunges for the door handle. Shaking Legrand's hand off his arm, he yanks the door open and runs. Behind him he can hear yelling – Legrand, Jen, Tina – but he ignores them and runs toward the elevator.
How could he have been so stupid? Please let him get there on time.
♦♦♦
Rick
Walking into Barney's, Rick has two thoughts in quick succession. The first is that this is where things really started with Joey. The night he'd rescued him from Coulter's beating has taken him so much further than he ever believed possible. The kid, bloody and broken, that he'd picked up off the floor is now more important than anything Rick has known. He'll do whatever it takes to protect him. The second thought is that Joey was right; he didn't understand. He's half an hour early for the meeting, hoping to be able to have the upper hand – a hope that has just died.
Danvers is already there, elbows on the bar, a glass of wine in his hand. He looks up when the door opens and as he looks from Rick to Carter and over to the guy by the window – Carter's plain clothes cop Rick assumes – a sly, satisfied smirk spreads over his features. Rick knows with a certainty he can't explain that Blake knows exactly what he has in mind.
Fuck!
Carter echoes the thought in Rick's ear and signals his guy at the window to stay there.
"Gentlemen," Danvers calls, raising his glass if he's toasting them. "Nice and early. Just the way I like it." He looks pointedly at Carter. "Mr. Matthews you have done well for yourself, haven't you? District Attorney, successful marriage. I'm sure that lovely wife of yours is proud of you." He sips his wine. "I take it she's still keeping you in line."
The unspoken threat of revealing Carter and Charlotte's private life hangs heavy in the air. Without taking his eyes off Danvers, Rick pitches his voice lower when he speaks, hoping Carter's submissive nature will take the hint.
"Don't let him get to you. Go and sit down."
"Rick – "
"Do it Carter."
He waits while Carter joins the cop at his table, then crosses the room to the bar. Stops in front of Danvers, folds his arms.
"You've put on a few pounds, Rick.” Danvers looks him up and down with a dismissive sneer. “Suits you though, especially with that beard. I can see the appeal for Joseph."
"Joey. His name is Joey." The son of a bitch smirks but says nothing. Rick leans closer. "I want you to fuck off and leave him alone."
Danvers laughs, slapping his hand against his thigh as if he's heard an especially good joke. "And why would I do that? Joseph is, after all, mine."
>
"You're going to do it because I tell you to and because when you sign this contract, I will give you a cashier's check for a quarter of a million dollars." Rick narrows his eyes. "And for the record, Joey doesn't belong to anybody, least of all you, you son of a bitch."
"Now, now let's remain civil, shall we? Mustn't forget our manners." A sound behind Rick catches Danvers' attention and his eyes widen. He smirks at Rick. "Well, well, didn’t things just get interesting?"
Rick risks a glance over his shoulder. Joey is between them and the door, face pale, eyes locked on Danvers. Oh no. No! Mark must have told him. Or Charlotte. But why? Why the fuck would they do that.
"Go and sit with Carter, baby boy." Rick turns back to Danvers.
"Oh, nice tone, Rick.” Danvers sips his wine. “Nice tone. You do have that Daddy vibe down pat, don't you? Seems your baby boy is still not very good at doing as he's told though."
Rick can feel Joey pressed against his side. Feels his breath on his neck as he whispers his name.
"It's okay. Blake and I are just going to have a little chat." He brushes a light kiss over Joey's cheek. "Go and sit down."
Joey shakes his head. Danvers makes a snorting sound.
"See? I never could quite get rid of that defiance. God knows I tried."
Rick surges forward. "You fucking asshole, I’m going to – "
Blake shakes his head and wags his finger. "Uh uh uh. We're being civil here remember?"
"How's this for civil? You sign this fucking contract and then you get the fuck away from Joey or I'll have your ass thrown in jail."
Danvers has the nerve to laugh. It cuts off as soon as it began.
"I'd like to see you try." For a moment Rick sees hatred in the man's eyes, then it's gone, and the smirk resurfaces. "Has Joseph shown you his party tricks? Not very obedient but he was very good at tricks." Next to him, a low whine rises from Joey. Danvers grins before continuing. "I had him so well trained, you know, that all it took was a single word or phrase and he would do exactly as was commanded of him. I think he enjoyed performing for an audience just between you and me."
From the corner of his eye Rick can see Joey trembling, fingers clawing into the fabric of his slacks. Rick turns, meaning to reassure him and is shocked by what he sees. Joey's eyes are dull with terror, cheeks alabaster beneath a sheen of sweat. He's making small movements from side to side like a child who wants to use a… understanding smashes into Rick, wiping everything else from his mind in a flash of white-hot fury.
Spinning around, he slaps the wine glass from Danvers' hand. The bar tender yells in protest as it shatters but Rick will deal with him later. He grabs Danvers by the throat and propels him backward. Driven by rage, he lifts him off the floor and leans in, pinning him against the bar wall.
"You fucking piece of shit."
He hears Carter yelling at him to let him go and the plain clothes guy explaining to the bar tender that he's a cop but all he cares about is the feel of Danvers' throat beneath his fingers. Rick is going to make sure the prick never hurts or humiliates anybody again.
Then Joey's voice cuts through the fog of rage.
"Rick. Please don't. Please."
♦♦♦
Joey
Running across the road, Legrand trailing behind him, Joey can't believe that after everything, Rick is still underestimating Blake. Why will nobody believe him? If he's honest, he supposes he knows why. They don't believe him because they can't believe that someone would actually do the things that Blake did. Even though they've seen it, they still can't really accept it.
Blind with fear, he pushes the door open. By the bar stand Rick and Blake. The man he loves facing the one who tortured him for so long. Rick tells him to sit down with Carter, but Joey can't do that. Every step feels as though it's taking him closer to a ravine he can't avoid falling into and when at last he stops, leaning as close to Rick as he dares, the tension in the room feels tangible.
Joey doesn't dare take his eyes off Blake. He doesn't trust him. Rick's lips are cool against his skin as he kisses him and tries again to get him to go and sit down. He shakes his head. No. He's staying right here.
"See? I never could quite get rid of that defiance. God knows I tried," he hears Blake say. Seriously? Defiance? He spent eight years cowed, spitting up blood and vomit, enclosed in the stench of his own waste, just to be called defiant. Now will they believe him when he says Blake is dangerous?
Rick says something about a contract and a check. What contract? What check? What the hell is he talking about? He's still trying to make sense of the words when Blake lets his mask slip. Gone is the carefully composed calm as hatred and undiluted wrath flare in his eyes. His mouth twists into a cruel sneer, and when he moves toward Rick, Joey can't help stepping back. That's the face of his nightmares. His stomach clenches and he feels the blood drain from his cheeks. Blake blinks, his oily smile resurfaces, and his leer slides over Joey.
Suddenly certain of what is coming, a shiver of fear wracks his frame. Fear forces a high-pitched keening from him as Blake speaks. His sphincter clenches and his testicles shrivel.
"… all it took was a single word or phrase and he would do exactly as was commanded of him."
The words sound as if they're miles away as Joey focuses every ounce of his being on not losing control. Please don't let Blake give the order. Please. If he does, Joey's not sure he can disobey. He grips his trousers, rocking from side to side to take the pressure of his bladder. Sweat stings his eyes and drips from his chin. Shame pin-balls through his body, leaving him nauseated and shaking.
Beyond the sound of blood rushing in his ears, he hears Rick roaring. Watches him grab Blake by the throat and toss him against the wall. His fingertips disappear into the loose skin beneath Blake's chin. In one never-ending second Joey knows that Rick has pieced it together and is going to kill him.
It's the sound of Carter yelling orders at someone that snaps Joey out of his haze. The need to urinate vanishes, the shame and fear recede far enough that he can breathe, and he understands that this time – this one time – he needs to do the rescuing.
He touches his trembling fingers to Rick's shoulder.
"Rick. Please don't. Please."
Rick looks from him to Blake and back again, nostrils flaring. Joey sees his fingers tighten a little more and Blake makes a desperate, wheezy sound.
"Please, not like this," Joey pleads. Tears fill his eyes and nose; it's hard to breathe but he has to try and get through to Rick. He can’t lose him. "If you hurt him, they'll arrest you and then who will look after me? Take care of me?" He swallows and takes a deep breath. "Who will be my daddy?"
Rick's eyes soften but he doesn't let go. "I'm going to make sure he never hurts you ever again."
"Not like this. Please not like this. If you do this, you'll be just like him." Scalding tears finally spill down his cheeks. "And if you're just like him then I won't be able to love you anymore."
♦♦♦
Rick
Rick lowers his arm and lets go of Danvers. Wraps his arms around Joey and squeezes his eyes shut. When Joey shudders and digs his fingers into his back, he winces but says nothing. He doesn't care. Joey loves him – wants him to take care of him. Nothing else matters. Carter can do whatever the hell he likes with Danvers.
A small crowd has gathered at the doorway – most of them from the office. They must have followed Joey over but are standing behind Charlotte's outstretched arm.
He pulls away to look at Joey, keeping one arm around his waist. "I love you baby boy." Who gives a fuck if people hear him? Or if they care. "How about we go home?"
Joey ducks his head and lowers his voice. "Yes please… Daddy."
Rick chuckles. "You know what – how about we keep that for special occasions?"
For the first time in days, he sees a spark of mischief in Joey's eyes. "What kind of special occasions?"
"We can work that out at ho-"
It feels like
a boulder hits him. Pain flares in his back and the ground rushes up to meet him. The room seems to explode into sound and Joey drops to the floor next to him. What the fuck did he hit him with? Son of a bitch that hurts.
"Do you really think I'm going to give up what's mine that easily you dumb fuck?"
Rick watches him fling the bar stool to one side and a weird thought makes its way through the agony. It's like a saloon fight in one of those westerns his old man used to love. Only John Wayne made it look a hell of a lot easier to stand up after being hit by a barstool.
Joey yelps and when Rick opens his eyes, Danvers has him by the hair, face twisted in a rictus of loathing.
"I always knew you were a pathetic little shit,” Danvers snarls. Didn’t matter what I did, I just couldn't rid you of that disgusting trait could I? Whining like a child. 'I'll do anything you like. Just love me. Let me be your boy.' But you're no Boy." Spittle hits Joey's face as he speaks. "You're just a disgusting little freak. Like that little slut I took care of the other night. Prancing around like some little fairy in his girly clothes and his makeup. You both disgust me. I’m glad I changed my mind about sinking my cock in that, God knows what I would have caught."
The pain in Rick's back is forgotten when he sees Joey ram his elbow back into Danvers' soft gut and twists free of his grip. Astonishment forms Danvers' mouth into a silent 'o' as he stares at the handful of hair he's left holding.
"Blake?" Joey's voice is calm and under different circumstances Rick might have felt bad for what he sees is about to happen, but he doesn't. Instead, he wants to cheer. Would cheer if it didn't feel like his lower half was on fire. As it is, Blake either doesn't see it coming or just doesn't believe it can happen, so when Joey's fist pistons forward, he has no chance of blocking it. The sound of his nose crunching is loud, sickening, and to Rick's ears, beautiful.
"That's my boy," he wheezes.
Joey is back by his side as other hands reach to help him up. The plain clothes cop is yanking a bawling, braying, and bleeding Danvers to his feet and Rick hears Carter say something about getting 'that piece of shit out of here'.
Rick: (Joey - Part 2) Page 9
