Chapter 8

Iseriously could've kissed Jeremy when he returned last night with toiletries, clothes and extra snacks, but don't tell Eden that, or he might have a hissy fit.

He brought us a ham and cheese sandwich and, to my absolute delight, an apple, too. So, we're living the dream, five-star treatment, will definitely leave a Google review.

Taking a shower, lukewarm water aside, felt amazing, and I'm buzzing that I no longer have stank breath. If I'm going to die, I'd quite like to get in one more cheeky snog with Eden.

I'm also now the proud owner of baggy grey joggers. I sacked off my lace knickers after the shower, and I've got to say my junk looks divine in them. He gave each of us a plain grey jumper as well. We look like prisoners in our jogger and crew neck combo, but I'm not totally against being matchy-matchy with my new bae. I've kept Eden's shirt on over the top because as hideous as it is, it's mine now and still smells like him.

Begrudgingly, Eden and I slept head-to-toe again last night, but that's fair considering the circumstances. We're in a frigid, rotten room with a furious woman sitting opposite, watching our every move. Not to mention we're tied up, so it's kind of awkward to cuddle with thick metal chains between us but fuck, I'm craving his touch. Eden's been my calm in this colossal storm up until now, but I don't want to force it. It's hard to know what's really going on in his head. We've spoken over the last 24 hours, but it's mainly consisted of me rambling on like a broken record. I've been speculating about what will happen to us, worrying why Emiliya isn't back and making too many poor jokes. Honestly, the chat is dead. I guess this isn't an ideal place for a budding romance.

I can feel Eden shutting down as each hour passes, becoming less talkative, and his affection is scarce. Eden mentioned that he's an introvert, so this is probably his idea of personal hell, being stuck with my chatty arse with no escape. But I have zero control over my mouth. When it's silent for too long, I feel as if a colony of ants are trying to crawl underneath my skin.

"How many days do you think humans can go without taking a shit?" I ask, awkwardly cutting through the silence.

Oh god, I hate myself.

"Do you need a shit, Kai?" Eden asks with a raised eyebrow.

I'd really appreciate it if the ground opened up right about now.

"Pfft, of course not. I don't shit, Eden. Don't be so ridiculous. I'm worried about you."

"Oh, how silly of me to assume." He chuckles, putting me at ease.

"God, your flirting makes me cringe," Devlin mutters with a face like a smacked arse.

"At least I have someone to flirt with," I pettily reply, then stick my tongue out with all the maturity of a five-year-old.

"I'm sure Eden wouldn't mind flirting with me, too. He's not your boyfriend, is he? What do you say, Eden, fancy wanking off together?" Devlin smirks.

I gasp, my eyes almost bulging out of their sockets. Eden nervously laughs and starts massaging the back of his neck. If this skank thinks we're going to partake in mutual masturbation, she's got another thing coming.

Devlin begins seductively undoing the string on her joggers. She's either fully lost it, or maybe she's an exhibitionist, but I really don't fancy seeing anyone's genitals right now unless they're Eden's. I glare at him as a not-so-subtle warning to shut this shit down.

"Erm, thanks, Devlin, but I'm good. I sort of have a thing for cock. Kind of you to offer, though, really nice of you," he stutters, giving her an uneasy smile.

"Damn, that's a shame. Well, if you change your mind."

Scoffing and shaking my head at her, she gives me a wicked grin and sly wink. I really should hate her for being such a little bitch, but I'm pretty sure that's the kind of shit I'd pull, touché Devlin, touché.

Footsteps approaching slingshot us back into our disturbing reality. Devlin fumbles to tie her jogger string, and we straighten up.

Pete strolls in with his shoulders pulled back. The potent smell of stale cigarettes clings to his clothes. I can't help but roll my eyes at him. He's such a lanky streak of piss. I'm really not in the mood for this smug bastard.

"Good morning, mutts. How's everyone settling in?" Pete says with a vulgar grin.

"Go to hell," Devlin hisses, driving her clenched fists into the dirty mattress on either side of her.

"That's not nice, is it? I much prefer you with something in your gob." His rumbustious cackle pings off the empty walls.

"And how are you doing, Kai?"

Pete inches closer, leering at me through pinched eyes.

"Woof, Woof!" I bark at him because why the fuck not.

"What the fuck are you doing, Kai?" Eden angrily whispers, his face scrunched up in confusion.

"If they're gonna chain us up and treat us like dogs, may as well act like one." I get on my hands and knees and continue to bark at Pete. "Turn around, let me get a sniff." I bend down and pretend to sniff Eden's arse.

Devlin erupts into hysterical laughter, and Pete looks like he's swallowed a wasp.

"You're a freak, you know that," Pete spits.

Eden's rumbling laughter encourages me, so I continue barking to hear more of it.

He takes hold of the chain around my neck and guides me to his lap. "Come on, down, boy," he says, ruffling my hair, really getting into character.

Devlin's snort laughing now, and Pete's huffing and puffing at our display, so I commit to the part and lick Eden's face, and he tickles under my chin in return. I appreciate the solidarity in my insanity.

"Fucking stop that," Pete shouts.

I growl at him through bared teeth, but settle on Eden's lap because I am his good boy, after all.

"Listen up! The head of the operation is visiting today. You better get it the fuck together. This isn't a fucking joke, he'll have no issue putting an end to your pathetic lives, do you hear me?"

Eden's gentle pets to my hair come to an abrupt stop, and the room becomes sombre at the death threat.

"That shut you up, didn't it?"

My stomach dances with nerves. The little food I've eaten is suddenly eager to make a reappearance.

Pete leaves the room, letting out a grotesque laugh that sends shivers down my spine. I'd rather not meet the head of this messed-up operation. You've got to be one sick individual to keep people chained up like this. As if Eden can sense the fear pulsating from my every fibre, he starts playing with my earlobe like before, and I melt into his calming touch. I know he's leaning in close because I can feel the tickle of his warm breath against the side of my face, so I twist my head and look up at him.

"We're going to be ok, Kai. If they haven't hurt us yet, I don't think they will. They obviously need us alive," he whispers, but his sombre expression says otherwise.

I can only nod because I can't fully accept that theory. Everything is looking bleak right now. Eden's eyes are hooded, and I swear I see a flicker of desire shoot through them as he gazes at me. He leans down and places the softest kiss on my lips, making my heart jitter.

He's still here with me. He's still interested in me. A slither of hope sparks inside me, because I'm nowhere near ready to give up, and I'm not prepared to abandon what we could potentially be. I need to be smart. If we're going to survive this shitstorm, we need some sort of plan which doesn't involve doing animal impressions to annoy Pete.

* * *

I nibble at the delicate skin surrounding my nail bed as we anxiously wait for the ‘head of operations' to arrive. I want to get this over with so I can figure out what these arseholes want.

Since Pete's delightful visit, Jeremy has been by to drop off food, let us pee and freshen up. I'm still trying to butter him up, but he's barely engaging with me today. Maybe he isn't as dumb as I initially thought. Plus, it doesn't help that every time he comes in, Eden cosies up to me, clearly trying to stake his claim. He doesn't realise that if the weasel wanted me, he'd have me. We really have no autonomy right now. We can't even shit in private.

I shake my head, trying to expel the spiralling thoughts that play on a loop. What if we can't escape? Eden blames you for being abducted. No one cares if you're missing. Emiliya's probably dead.

I've had a good handle on my anxiety over the past few years, but this whole situation has my mind spinning like a tornado, leaving nothing but debris in its wake.

The pessimism is coming in hard on day two at Casa Di Warehouse.

I sit up to readjust the chain and padlock suffocating my neck. A fiery rash irritates my skin, and the heavy weight of it sends shooting pains along my shoulders and neck. Eden watches me hopelessly fiddle, then scoots closer.

"Come here," he mumbles.

Turning to face him, he firmly grasps either side of my neck with his large hands. My breath catches at the sudden contact. Considering how cool the room is, his fingers feel pleasantly warm against my skin.

I love it when he's this close, close enough to smell, close enough to cuddle, close enough to kiss.

Reaching for my collar, he pulls it up Elvis-style and eases the chain over the top so it's no longer touching my bare skin, then folds it over so it stays in place.

"There you go," he says enthusiastically, sounding chuffed that he figured out how to solve one of my many problems.

"Fuck me sideways, why didn't I think of that? I hate to admit it, but this minging shirt has come in handy."

Eden slowly rolls his eyes at me.

"You're not having it back," I jest.

His hands have slipped down to my shoulders and he massages them gently like he doesn't want to let go. We only seem to initiate intimacy when we're freaking out, so it's hard to know if he's touching me because we're in a life-and-death situation or because he's still into me.

It's hardly like I can ask, 'Hey honey, I'm curious. Are we counting this as our first or second date?' Realistically, we've been on one actual date and then unintentionally spent over 48 hours together. I mean, I know us queers move quickly, but even for me, this is a bit much. We've practically moved in together. The only difference is our flat is a three-by-six-foot stinking mattress, and we have a terrible case of cockroaches. The roaches being Dr Evil and Pervy Pete.

"That's ok. It looks better on you anyway," Eden says, raising his right hand to lightly pinch and then stroke my earlobe.

I swear this guy has an earlobe kink, and I'm not mad about it.

"Well, obviously," I say with a flirty grin.

I love that he gave me his shirt. It feels special somehow. I'm not used to people wanting to take care of me.

Eden pulls his hand away and moves back to the other side of the mattress. I unconsciously lean forward, chasing his touch. His thick eyebrows furrow as I almost tip face-first onto the grim mattress.

"What are you doing?" he asks.

"Nothing," I mutter, sitting up straight and attempting to act cool.

"Are you dizzy?"

There's an inkling of worry in his olive eyes.

"No, it's fine, honestly."

I lean against the wall, my calves and feet dangling off the edge of the mattress.

"Tell me, Kai," he says, glaring at me suspiciously.

"It's silly," I grumble.

"Nothing you say is silly." He smirks. "Well, actually…"

"Oh, piss off." I lightly punch his muscular arm, and his bright smile grows.

"Come on, tell me, I didn't take you for being coy."

"Fine, I was just enjoying that little thing you do."

I feel my chest tighten and cheeks heat at the confession.

"What little thing?"

The corner of his mouth perks up. The fucker is enjoying this, making me all gooey and shit.

"The earlobe thing."

"Oh, this?"

He reaches for my ear and gives it a delicate stroke, making every hair on my body perk up. I try to compose myself and stop simping out over the innocent touch, but that ship has sailed.

"Have you got an ear fetish? Do you want to fuck my ear hole?"

Eden's booming laugh travels through his body until I can feel it vibrating through his fingertips. The sound of his laughter is enthralling. It hits me right in the centre of my chest whenever I hear it.

"Well, I didn't until I met you, but your ears are so damn cute. I want to touch them, kiss them, nibble on them. Honestly, I'd swallow them whole if I could."

"Alright, calm down, Hannibal Lecter. There's only one part of me I want you to swallow whole."

I wiggle my eyebrows at him. Eden makes an amused huff while continuing to play with my ear. If I were a cat I'd be purring like I'm in heat.

"Really, guys, you're gonna make me vom," Devlin moans.

And just like that, the spell is broken. Eden releases my ear and sits back but close enough that our elbows brush. Devlin really is the cock block of the century.

* * *

If I had to take a wild guess, it's around midnight now, but what the hell do I know? Any concept of time has been royally fucked since our abduction.

I'm sitting with my head resting against Eden's shoulder. His hand is lightly placed on my thigh, and I'm abnormally aware of its presence. He isn't doing anything with it. It's innocently placed there but feels like molten lava against my leg.

There seems to have been a shift since the earlobe incident, and some part of us has been touching at all times. I'm not going to lie. It feels damn good. I have some nerve getting giddy and excited about a guy when I don't even know if I'll see my next meal. In the midst of trauma, I've obviously decided to focus on trivial things. If it's not what's in Tesco boy's bag, it's does the boy I like, like me back?

Growing up in an emotionally abusive household forced me to grow a thick skin and an array of unhealthy coping mechanisms. One being not taking anything seriously. If something upsets or scares me, I joke about it because if not, I'll crumble. Even though we're facing something dark and sinister, I've still managed to crack regular jokes and flirt my arse off. I'm aware that's highly inappropriate, so I should probably get some therapy if we survive this shit.

Heavy footsteps ring in the hallway. As usual, we sit up straight, stiff as ironing boards, trying to portray confidence. But each time I hear footsteps, there's a tiny moment where I wonder if it's my turn to go.

Suddenly, the room is flooded with more people than I've ever seen here, and I feel an overwhelming sense of claustrophobia which I've never experienced before.

A broad man with thick grey hair and beard strolls towards us with his hands clasped behind his back. He has rich chocolate eyes, white skin and an annoyingly symmetrical face. His perfectly tailored navy suit and designer shoes scream wealth. If he weren't my captor, I'd probably ask him where he got them from. That's a silver fox if I ever did see one, but putting the unnaturally hot daddy vibes aside, something about his spine-chilling glower makes me feel on edge. I can only assume this is the head of operations. Behind him stands two security guards, Dr Evil, Pete, and Jeremy. It's clearly a family affair.

The room is eerily quiet as he critically examines us. Like the dickhead I am, I smile at him, full-on smile, because what else am I supposed to do when he's practically sucking the soul out of me. Eden keeps a straight face, and as expected, Devlin pipes up.

"Oi you, what the fuck do you want with us?"

His head snaps around and he walks over to Devlin's side of the room. She nervously shuffles on her mattress the closer he gets.

"So, you're the gobby one?" he says in an almost playful tone.

"Fuck you! Either kill us or let us go, we're not your fucking pets."

On instinct, I reach for Eden's hand and feel a slight tremor trickle through his fingers. Glancing around the room, I see the same scrunched-up expression on everyone's face, like they know something dreadful is coming.

The head of operations crouches down so he's at eye level. I gasp as his large hand darts up to squeeze her cheeks together, forcing her to pout. Devlin's body vibrates, but she keeps a stoic expression like nothing in this world can hurt her. I admire her bravery, but I'm equally terrified for her.

There's something wildly unhinged about this man. I know he's killed, and I'm sure he'll have no qualms about doing it again. Jeremy flashes me a tense look, then trains his eyes on the concrete floor.

"You're next, sweetheart," the head of operations says.

He lightly slaps her face twice, then slowly retreats.

"I won't do shit for you," she bellows at his back.

Before my brain has time to compute what's happening, he's twisting around and slamming the sole of his designer shoe in the centre of her chest, making her bounce off the wall. She falls onto her side, clutching her chest and wailing in pain. He raises his foot and stamps on her side over and over again. The sharp crack of her rib breaking forces sick up my throat. Devlin's screams feel like needles piercing my ear drums. I squeeze in impossibly close to Eden, practically sitting on his lap. Our bodies quiver against one another, exchanging nervous energy.

When he's finished his assault, the head of operations takes one last look at us and smirks before swanning out of the room with his loyal minions in tow.

* * *

A few hours later, after we managed to calm Devlin down, footsteps sound in the corridor. The weight of ten bricks lands in my stomach. After what happened tonight, I can't bear to see her suffer again. I know she's argumentative and baits them, but no one deserves to have their bones broken.

When Emiliya and Jeremy walk through the door, I'm elated for the first time in days. She's alive.

"Emiliya, you're back," I almost squeal, climbing to my feet as high as my chain allows.

"Hello," she murmurs, shuffling into the room.

Tears stain her swollen cheeks, but she looks otherwise unharmed. Her hair has been cut into a messy bob, which only confuses me.

"Are you ok?" Eden asks, sitting right on the edge of the mattress. Emiliya walks towards us, reaching out her hand to touch mine.

"Come on, get on the bed now," Jeremy snaps, grabbing her arm and leading her away.

When Emiliya notices Devlin clutching her side, she frantically rambles in Bulgarian. She sits on the bed and strokes her forearm, but Devlin grunts and curls in on herself. Emiliya's shoulders sag and she lifts her neck to allow Jeremy to tie her up.

When we're finally alone, we try to communicate with her, but it's an impossible task.

"Where were you?"

"What happened?"

"Are you ok?"

"What happened to your hair?"

Eden and I repeat our questions, rephrasing them in the hope she'll understand, but her face scrunches up in confusion. We can't even begin to guess what she's trying to tell us in Bulgarian.

She puts her index finger over one of her nostrils and snorts, dragging her head to the side. I think that's the universal sign for sniffing a big line of coke.

"Did they make you take drugs?" I point at her and copy the gesture.

"Da, yes."

She shakes her head from left to right, confirming my thoughts. I give her a small smile and then turn to Eden.

"Ok, so they made her take drugs, but why? If they're just gonna take us off to get high, sign me up."

"No, I don't think it's that. Maybe they made her deliver drugs or something, like a drug mule," Eden explains.

"If that's it, why didn't she make a run for it?"

"I'm sure it's not as simple as that. I think she would've tried to escape if she could."

I groan at him, closing my eyes and tipping my head back against the wall.

"Yep, you're probably right, so basically we're fucked. Even if we end up on one of these jobs, chances are we'll get arrested for possession. Yippee," I say, eyes still closed, and a sarcastic smile spread across my face.

After a few moments of silence, Eden asks her, "Where did you deliver the drugs?"

My eyes spring open, waiting for her response. Emiliya shrugs her shoulders and curls up on her side of the mattress. I think she's done with our Spanish Inquisition.

"What if they make us shove drugs up our arse, Eden? I mean, I can take a big ole dick, but a block of cocaine isn't gonna fit up there."

"Seriously?" He frowns at me, and I can't help but smile at his exasperated expression.

"You really do know how to make light of the most disturbing things," he says in a hushed tone now that everyone seems to be calling it a night.

"It's a talent, honestly. Oh, and childhood trauma, of course," I joke, even though it's true.

"We should unpack that sometime." His eyebrows pinch with concern.

"If we must, Dr Phil."

Eden smiles, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. He knows there's a story to be told, but with other people around, it doesn't seem like the time to get vulnerable with each other.

"Here." He starts shifting into a lying position and taps the space beside him.

My stomach swoops at the invitation. After everything that's gone down today, there's nothing I want more than to be wrapped up in Eden's arms. I lie with my back to his front, and he nuzzles the back of my neck. His arm engulfs me and his fingers find my earlobe.

Even though I can feel his chain digging into my back, I succumb to a rare moment of peace, allowing myself to drift off with his warm body, keeping me safe.