Back to Masterpost Part Twelve
The next time Jared woke, there was a petite young brunette, sitting next to him in a wicker chair, painting her nails. His mind found a vague memory of her in a bath robe, with a rifle. He remembered he was naked and quickly checked that he was covered.
“Ooh, you're awake!” She was inexplicably excited. “So, I get to meet our new baby first. I'm Gem.” She blew on her nails and held up her hands for him to see. The nails were neatly painted with a shiny purple base and a silver glaze. “Crackle effect,” she said proudly. “It's awesome, isn't it?” She shuffled the chair forward, without using her hands, which Jared thought was quite a skill. “Your stitches are the neatest I've ever seen. Chad thought your name should be Scar, but the rest of us thought it was too Disney. Madame said you're our new baby boy, and you seem sad, so we decided on Baby Blue.”
Jared's confusion must have been obvious. She patted his arm. “It's one of the rules. Nobody here uses a real name, not ever. We don't talk about our past. We're a family so we all get to suggest a name, and then Madame chooses.”
Nothing was becoming clearer.
“For instance,” she continued, “I'm small and sparkly, so Madame named me Gem. China has fine features and pale skin, and he was broken, like you, when Madame found him.” Gem smiled prettily and flicked her long, shiny hair behind her ears. “None of us can go back to our old lives, so those names are gone. When we leave, we will have a new name and papers to match. If my earnings are good, I will have my papers in six months, but I have asked Madame if I can stay longer. I still look young, don't I?”
Jared nodded. Nothing she said made sense, but he could agree that she was young and pretty.
There was a knock at the door. Gem looked at the visitor, blushed and giggled. It looked a lot like a young girl seeing her crush. “Oh, hi China! I was just leaving.” She sashayed past him with an exaggerated swing of her hips.
“Hey there.” Jensen stood at the door with a mug in his hand.
He looked good in a button down and jeans. He wore no collar, but he looked like Jared's Jensen, not like the vengeful soldier who had beaten him at the ranch. It didn't stop Jared from worrying about what would happen next. He didn't notice himself inching up the bed to get as far from the man as possible, or that he was curling in on himself, folding his body small under the covers. Jared forced his mouth to move, and it hurt, but he didn't taste fresh blood. “Is China your real name?”
“No.” Jensen leaned on the door frame. “It was one of my names. I've had a few.” He pointed at the wicker chair Gem had vacated, “Can I come in and sit with you?”
“I er, I don't know what's allowed. Where am I?” Jared's heart hammered, and he started to sweat. He couldn't help his fear.
“You're allowed to say no, but whatever happens I have to speak with you, and it would be better if it were in private. I can explain where you are.”
“What are you going to do to me?”
“Nothing. I promise. I won't hit you ever again. When I've told you everything, I'll leave, and you'll never see me again. These people, this place, it's a good place. You'll be treated fairly. You can start over, make friends.”He looked at Jared with wide eyes and chewed his lip.
Jared thought Jensen looked more nervous and lost, than even he felt. Jared waved to the chair, “Come in.” He was too weak to prevent Jensen from hurting him, even if he wanted to, and Jensen had asked permission, when he didn't have to.
“I brought you a peace offering.” Jensen showed him the mug. “Latte with caramel, and extra chocolate sprinkles, just how you like it. Here.” Jensen put the mug on the nightstand and grabbed a pillow from the end of the bed, “Let me help you sit up.”
Jensen's behavior confused Jared. “You're not my slave.”
“I know. I'm not a soldier, and I'm not your slave. Here and now, I'm just me, and I want to help.” He forced a twisted smile.
Jared flinched at the first touch of Jensen's fingers, and he saw the corners of Jensen's mouth turn down, but he continued making Jared comfortable, leaning him a little sideways, to relieve the pressure on his bruised ribs.
“How does that feel?” Jensen asked.
“Everything hurts, including breathing. S'okay though.”
Jensen put the mug to his lips and let him sip.
“S'heaven.” Jared declared, and he meant it. He hadn't realized how much he craved something more than water, and Jensen had perfected his coffee during his time at the ranch. Jared shut down the thought of the ranch almost immediately. He couldn't deal with those memories.
Jensen pulled an old photograph from his pocket and sat on the chair. “This is me when I was fourteen,” he said.
Jared reached to touch it and Jensen held it up. There were several youths and young adults smiling for the camera, dressed for a party, with beautifully styled hair and perfect make up.
“I'm in the middle, with the tight emo jeans and the eyeliner.”
Jensen was slim and delicate in the picture. He posed confidently in tight ripped black jeans and a tighter part-mesh shirt. His eyes were tinged with smoky eyeliner and his lips had a hint of gloss. His hair was blond and shaggy, with silky bangs.
Jensen laughed at Jared's face, “I was known as China back then, and China was a twink. The daddies loved that. It was a stage I grew out of.” He flexed his arm muscles to make his point.
Jared's heart missed a beat as Jensen’s arms flexed. He prepared for a blow, but it didn't come. He recovered his composure. “Daddies?”
Jensen ignored his query. He pointed to the young woman next to him, clearly a few years older than Jensen. “That is Josie, Sophie's mother. This is where we met. Behind us is Madame Ferris. Don't tell her she looks younger here. That bearded man at the back was one of our bouncers, Ty. In our spare time, he helped me to work out and taught me to fight. I could give you all their names, but it's not important.”
Jared's brow dipped, “I thought Sophie was your sister?”
“She was the only sister I knew. This here, is family. It's the only family I had. Maybe it wasn't blood, but she was my sister, she was tough and amazing, even as a child, and I loved her.”
“She was incredible.” Jared fiddled with a fingernail as he wondered how to express himself, “Look, Jensen. I wasn't in love with Sophie, but I did love her, and when she said she was pregnant, I wanted to do the right thing. I was going to do whatever she asked. She asked to carry on, in her job. I should have refused, I can see that now, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry you lost her. I'm sorry she had such a shitty deal at the end. I'm glad you were there for her, and I shouldn't have accused you of abandoning her.”
“You told your side of it. I think she would have decked both of us, and told us to shut up and stop fighting over her life, because it wasn't ours to decide.”
Jared huffed, “That would be her exactly. Don't make me laugh; it hurts.”
Jensen reached fingers to Jared's forehead, and stroked his untidy hair. Jared held his breath for a few seconds, but it didn't feel like a threat.
Jensen spoke sincerely, “I don't want you to hurt any more. I said and did a lot of things to you. I'm not sure if I was ever in love with you, but I know I cared. You aren't stupid, and I liked being with you. I didn't just have sex with you for the job. We had chemistry. You're sexy, and funny, and bright. I'm sorry I hurt you, but I don't regret being there. I got you out, and this new life may not be what you planned or wanted, but there's a second chance, and I know you're strong enough to get to the other side.”
There was some comfort in Jensen’s reply, if he could believe it, but Jared had to know more. “My father?”
Jensen's features hardened, “I'm not sorry about his death, but you didn't cause it. I would have found a weakness, with or without you.”
“What happens to you? Will you get paid?”
“Payday is screwed, and there's a hardass who's pissed with me. It ain't the end of the world. I'll get out of this rat-hole and start again. I'm good at that.”
“You told me it's safe here. You could stay.” Jared couldn't avoid the plea, despite what Jensen had done to him. Jensen was the only familiar thing that remained of his life.
"I'm not China any more, my money is worthless in Monkota, and I'm a wanted man. I don't want to lead anybody to you, or what was the point?”
Jared turned his face away. He didn't know why he hoped Jensen would stay, or why his heart was breaking, only that it was. “You're worried about money? You know you're an asshole, Jensen.”
“Yeah, well, mostly I kill people for a living. Sometimes I rescue them. I'm a professional asshole.”
“I'll have my coffee now. I want to rest.”
“You need to know some more.” Jensen ruffled Jared's hair.
Jared jerked away from his touch, to bury his face in his pillow. He ignored the pain that flared at the contact with his cheek, and he ignored Jensen. He refused to cry. He felt Jensen's presence and his awkwardness, before he heard him leave the room. “I'll come back,” Jensen said, and the door clicked behind him.
Jensen shut Jared's door. He scraped his hand over his face and wondered if the bar in the basement was open. Clif nodded a greeting as he perched on a bar stool, and the bar tender, Matt, served bourbon with chirpy conversation that faded once he established that Jensen wasn't a john. Matt went back to cleaning glasses in the corner of the bar and Jensen moped alone. How do you tell a teenager that you've sold their future? That you pimped them out for sex with strangers, because you're not capable of taking responsibility for them. He tried to convince himself that he'd survived this way, thrived even, but he wasn't certain of anything anymore.
During the second bourbon, his cell phone beeped and vibrated. He turned it over curiously, to read the message on the bright screen; a map reference, and a time. He worked out the distance, and he could make it if he hauled ass. The question remained whether JD would sell him out to Quintas for Jared. If Jensen really hauled ass then he could get there in advance of the meet and scope it out. He slid his glass over the counter with a tip, and beat it out of there to grab his pack, and his weapons.
Jensen paused by Jared's room. He put his pack on the floor in the hall, turned the handle and went in. The kid was sleeping. His damaged face was relaxed, and he looked peaceful. His right hand and foot dangled in the air, over the edge of the bed, and an empty medicine cup was on the nightstand by his coffee mug. Jensen took his hand, stroked the back of it, and whispered his name, but Jared didn't stir. He tucked Jared’s foot and hand back into the bed, and there was still no sign of him waking. He considered leaving a note, but he didn't know what to say. There were no words that would ever be adequate. He leaned over him, to breathe him in, one last time, gave him a kiss that barely touched the swollen, stitched lips, and walked away. He stole a Camaro, put his assault rifle on the seat next to him, and put his foot to the floor.
Jensen got to the rendezvous early enough to scope out JD scoping him out. Misha and Danneel were with him, but the rest of the team wasn’t present. It made him antsy. JD was a man of few words. He took Jensen in a one armed hug and spoke gruffly, “I didn't want the rest of the team involved if we had to rescue your stupid ass.”
Danneel smacked his cheek and berated him for being so foolish; then pulled him in for a hug, and Misha smacked him on his ass and called him an irresponsible dick. It was a good reunion.
An Executive Sikorsky swooped in to collect them. As rotors chopped through air above them, Jensen looked to JD, and then at Misha, “Where's our usual transport?”
JD slapped him on the back, a little too hard, and Jensen could see his trigger finger on his service pistol, “The self-appointed President Quintas was so impressed he sent his own.”
Danneel and Misha completed a triangle around him, and Jensen knew he was lost.
Danni couldn't look him in the eye. “Put your weapons down and get on the ground, Ross.”
He looked for an escape but didn't see one. He knelt to the ground and placed his pistol, his assault rifle and his dagger in the dirt by Danni's foot. Misha patted him down and took his flick knife from his sock, then bent his hands behind his back to be cuffed. The world went dark as a hood was placed over his head, ear muffs over that, and he was pushed, stumbling into the helicopter. He swore and cursed, but he had no way of knowing if his former colleagues were even there. He found a calm place in his mind, and tried to stay there, but his thoughts wandered to all the ways a person can be persuaded to part with their secrets, and then to Jared, betrayed by him, yet again.
They landed and he braced himself for some sort of action, but he was pushed up steps and into another seat. He felt the take off and guessed at a jet. The journey was interminable. Jensen knew that sense deprivation skewed sense of time, but this had to be hours. He asked to be taken to relieve himself and was surprised when someone guided him and uncuffed his hand to allow it. He supposed that nobody wanted to get the seating stained. His cuff was replaced and he waited once more. The time was definitely off, and he supposed they were toying with him. It was working. His dread built, and it was increasingly difficult to find his calm space. Finally, Jensen’s stomach felt the swoop and deceleration of landing, and he braced himself once more. He'd had time to think. He wasn't going to go under without a fight. If they killed him in the struggle, then he couldn't divulge Jared's location.
He was manhandled once more, pushed down steps, and came to a halt. He felt heat against his back and all around him just before the hood and ear muffs were removed. Bright sunshine assaulted his eyes and he blinked to adjust. To one side of him Misha dissolved into giggles and Danni cried tears of laughter. Champagne fizzed like a tidal wave in the glass that JD held out to him, as it rocked with his guffaws. Danni was shaking so much it took her several minutes to unlock his cuffs. “Your face!” she managed to grate out, in the end.
“Welcome to Agadir,” chuckled Misha.
“I said, don't let it get personal Ross. Don't ever screw up like that again, or next time that journey could be for real,” JD scolded.
“You fuckers!” Jensen grabbed the champagne from JD and drank it one gulp. They were assholes, but so was he.
“That is the best money I have ever spent,” JD was still laughing, “And you never got to appreciate the luxury of that damn Sikorsky or the private jet.”
“You paid all that to prank me!”
A chauffeur coughed tactfully and opened the door of a limousine. Danni took a swig from the champagne bottle and passed it around. She stepped in the limo daintily, “Hey, c'mon guys. I want to hit the souk.”
JD explained, “Quintas gave us a bonus for every member of Padalecki's government he took in the ranch. He pulled one of the most successful coups of all time, and we got out alive. I figured we deserved a holiday, and a few laughs. The others picked Hawaii, but Danni wanted somewhere more exotic. Morocco had the right weather, distance and villa at short notice.” He settled into his seat and explored the little bar.
“You didn't get a choice because you're an idiot,” Misha added, pulling Jensen into the car with them.
Jensen watched through the window as they passed through the city. Arid heat and bright sun lit rich blue skies and sea. There were white buildings, the yellows of desert sand and a whole palette of vibrant colors, smells and sounds. He thought of Jared in a quiet room with pink daisies on the wall, and the colors dulled around him.
Jensen didn't return that day, and Jared felt sick, lonely and scared. He shouldn't have ignored him. He knew it was his own fault. It always was. He let himself wallow in pain and self-pity.
At some point Gem pulled Chad into his room, and he was introduced to the blue-eyed, spiky-haired blond and his snarky sense of humor. The pair were relaxed and chatty, despite the tight corset and short skirt Gem wore with spike-heeled shoes, and the equally tight corset that Chad wore with a short kilt and stockings. Chad bounced in kitten-heeled sandals, and grinned with bright glossed lips. He boasted that he had an appointment with a regular, who always tipped well, if the skirt was cheeky enough. He twirled to show off to Jared, and Jared caught a glimpse of black lace panties under the skirt, “Do you think it's cheeky enough?”
Jared's eyes widened, and he had to remember to shut his gaping mouth, “Yeah, it's cheeky.” If he needed confirmation that he was staying in a brothel, he supposed he had his evidence.
When sun shone through the window blinds the next morning, Jensen still hadn't been to see Jared, and the house was quiet. He eased his aching limbs from his bed and wrapped a sheet around him, to stumble to the bathroom across the corridor. There was no sign of anybody. According to Clif, Jensen was staying in the room two doors to the left. Jared shuffled to the door and listened, but he couldn't hear anything. He tried the handle and peeked inside. The bed hadn't been slept in. Stained and dusty combat clothes were neatly placed in the trash, and the rest of Jensen's belongings were gone. Jared left the room with a lump in his throat and a sick sensation in his stomach.
In the end it was Madame Ferris who came to him. She helped him sit up, then sat by his side to explain his situation. She was both soft-spoken mother figure, and hardhearted businesswoman. She showed him his ledger, an account of money owed for doctor's fees, bed, board, and a new identity. The total was shocking. He wanted to speak with Jensen, to find a solution with him, but she shook her head sadly, “I'm sorry honey, he's gone, and China, well, when he runs, he keeps on going.”
“He said he would come back. He told me he would.”
“Oh, Baby Blue, the boy says that every time. He started running at twelve years old, and he's still running that marathon.”
“He'll come back, he said he would.” Jared repeated himself.
Madame Ferris sucked on her cigarette, inhaled, then blew out, “I'm sure his mother believed that. I think Sophie did too. Josie couldn't make him stay, and I'm not sure how the army regarded him going awol. Not well, I would think. I'm certain he cares for you. He wouldn't have brought you here if he didn't, but the person he was yesterday, isn't necessarily the person he is today. Sometimes you have to let go and move on, kid.”
She gave him options. He could pay and leave, in safety, with his new identity. He could run with money owing, and she would have him pursued and imprisoned for the debt. He would take his chances at discovery. She gave him his last option with a friendly squeeze of his hand; he could work for her, as a legally employed prostitute, on controlled premises, and she would take what he owed, and his bed, board and bills from his earnings.
“I'm not twenty-one,” he argued. With his father gone, there was no access to his trust fund, even if he dared to use it, but he couldn't come to terms with the alternative.
“You're whatever age is on your papers. You're tall enough. This business competes with mob-controlled hookers and slave-sourced whores every day, and we have to have an edge. We're pricier than the rest, and we can do it because we cater to a certain sort of client. We have a family atmosphere and my boys and girls are healthy and certificated as legal. Our customers indulge in harmless sexual fantasies, in a secure, clean place, and they get to keep a clear conscience. Even if you ran and stayed undetected, how do you think you'll get by? You're going to get fucked whatever you do, Blue. You may as well do it in the comfort and protection of a decent business.”
“Is this Jensen’s revenge, for what I did to him? Does he hate me that much?”
“Oh, Sugar! Why so precious? You're being offered employment, a future, and a roof over your head. Do you think you are that much better than the rest of my staff? It would be best to remember that they regard themselves as professionals. There are many who would fight to take your place.”
Jared remembered Jensen's photograph. “Was China your whore?”
“Blue, nobody at The Roadhouse is a whore.” She stroked his hand. “Don't ever think like that. China was one of my boys, and he is family, as you all are.”
“He was fourteen, and you sold him for sex.” Jared was disgusted.
“I don't force anybody to stay. There are no collars, and no locks on your doors. I only ask that a debt be repaid. He understood that, and he was safe and happy here. I'm not a good person, Blue, but neither am I a monster. China came from the streets. He knew what true evil was, and he understood that customers bought time and entertainment with him, but they never bought him.”
Madame gave him two days to think about it, and suggested that he explore the house and talk to the others. She left a pile of soft, casual clothes for him to wear.
Jared leaned back into feather pillows, and reflected on all the mistakes he'd made, in his meaningless, pathetic life. Karma's a bitch, and he felt the full impact of life without real choice. He saw Fin's willingness to please him with a new awareness. He had never asked Fin his age, the consent the boy gave had been contrived and worthless. Jared didn't like what that made him; a monster. He remembered the pills the doctor had left, grabbed the bottle from the nightstand and shook it. There might be enough.
A handful of bright capsules tumbled onto his palm. Like sweets, he thought. He bunched his hand and rolled them, studying their motion, but his mind pictured Sophie arguing with him. She was always an optimist and a fighter. Her mother, Josie, taught her that. His mind turned to Jensen's photograph, and he understood the significance of it. Josie got through this, even with a child, and if she hadn't, then Sophie wouldn't have been Sophie. He sighed, tipped all but two of the capsules back into the bottle, and took his usual dose with a gulp of water. Madame was right, he was no better than anybody in the house, and he deserved to be humbled. There might even be some redemption in it. Jensen was coming back. He said he would, and when he did, Jared would show him how much better he could be.
Jared lay stiffly on the bed, in the room with pink daisies on the wall and cried himself to sleep like a baby. Baby Blue.
Part
thirteen