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Ian looked at his watch again, annoyed. It was 6:45, and Alex was supposed to meet him in front of the restaurant at 6:30. Fifteen minutes wasn’t the end of the world, but it was unlike him. Alex knew that going off by himself on vacation was a privilege, and that being late was a good way to lose that privilege.
They were on holiday in Stockholm, a trip to a country they’d never been to as a present for Alex’s fourteenth birthday. He had met some other youths earlier in the week and had gone with them to a skate park. But he should have been back by now.
The street wasn’t busy, but Ian still stepped towards the curb for a better view in both directions. No sign.
Before he could turn around, a grey van skidded to a halt in front of him. A door was thrown open, and he found Alex.
Alex was kneeling on the floor of the van while a large man in a balaclava held a gun to his head. The man’s other hand was over Alex’s mouth, but his eyes screamed for Ian to help him.
“Don’t scream. Don't run. Get in the van or we will kill him.”
Ian turned his head to see who was around. The street was mostly deserted. No one to call for help or even to cause a scene in front of.
A muffled yelp of pain drew his attention, and he whipped his head back around. The man was painfully digging the gun into the tender spot behind Alex’s ear.
“Now!”
He shouldn’t get in. If this was work, the protocol was to run. His partner was already captured, no reason for them both to die. But he wasn’t at work, he was on holiday. And this wasn’t his mission partner, this was Alex.
Ian climbed in the car. As soon as his foot hit the floor, a stun baton was shoved into his neck, and he was yanked inside as his muscles spasmed.
———
The men-- there were two burly men in balaclavas. One behind the wheel and in the empty cargo space with them-- had securely ziptied Ian’s wrists behind his back and allowed him to sit next to Alex.
“What’s going on?” Alex whispered, voice tight with restrained fear.
“I don’t know,” Ian murmured back. The men didn’t seem to care that they were whispering to each other. “Did they say anything to you?”
Alex shook his head. He pressed his side to Ian’s, in a way he hadn’t since he decided he was too old to cuddle. “The one guy had a gun and told me to get inside. I tried to fight him, really. Even kicked the gun out of his hands. But he got me with that same baton thing.”
“Are you okay?” Ian tried to look him over, but the angle and their bond didn’t allow much.
“It really hurt,” Alex admitted. “But I think I am? Who are these people?”
Ian had no idea. He tried asking the man's name but was ignored. He tried asking why they were doing this and only got a grunt in response. He asked if they were working for someone, and again it was silence.
They were professional enough to keep their mouths shut, at least.
Alex took it upon himself to ask. “Do you even speak english? Or is it just that words are hard for you in general?”
Ian tensed and hissed a warning, “Alex.”
The man looked at Alex and chuckled. “Why do I need words?” He held out the stun baton, leveling the prongs with Alex’s eye, maybe an inch away. He pressed the button, and Alex jerked back against the wall as the electricity crackled violently.
“That answers my question,” Alex said smugly, and the man made a move as if to stand in the confined space.
“Alex, be quiet. Now,” Ian snapped. His correcting Alex seemed to satisfy the man, who smirked as he sat back against the other wall. He turned to Alex and whispered in his ear, “Please be quiet. Let me handle this, okay?”
It was like swallowing a lemon, but Alex nodded. Silently.
-------
They were forced into a lavish cottage, alone on this part of the Italian alps. The Protestant alps, they’d once been called. When they’d been populated by religious groups fleeing the Catholic Church.
In the brief moments they were outside, other houses were only visible as distant specks. Far out of earshot.
Once inside, they were both forced into high-backed, solid wood chairs. Facing each other at an angle.
Ian looked at Alex’s scared face. He had so far obeyed Ian’s order to be quiet, but without his usual sarcasm and jokes, tension was building in him with no release.
Still, he didn’t know what this was about. The men who’d taken them had known their names, this wasn’t random. But he still couldn’t think of who could have taken them.
“Finally, our guests have arrived,” a voice said behind him, and Ian’s blood ran cold.
“Randall,” he spat back.
Alex picked up on his reaction and went still, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Joshua Randall walked around to face both of them, and Ian’s fear for his nephew only grew.
“What is the meaning of this?” He demanded. A sinking feeling in his gut said that Alex wasn’t just here as leverage.
Randall looked unimpressed. He knew he held all the cards. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m going to hurt you, and I’m most likely going to hurt your nephew.”
Bile rose in his throat, but Ian swallowed it down. “This is between you and me. He’s not involved, he doesn’t even know who you are.”
Alex was looking back and forth between them, confused and afraid. He was about to explode from the effort of keeping quiet. Even so, his hands were working behind his back, trying to free himself from the zip ties.
But Randall just shrugged. “I haven’t decided what I’m going to do with you two yet. When I saw you in the plaza, I could hardly believe it. At first I thought you’d somehow tracked me down. That you were here for me. But then I saw the delightful young man at your side, and realized you were here for pleasure, not business.”
The innuendo wasn’t lost on any one.
“You’re—“ Alex started, before a sharp, imploring look from Ian made him close his mouth.
But it was enough. He now had Randall’s full attention.
“I’m what?” Randall asked, stepping closer to the teenager. “What were you about to say?”
“You’re a bloody arsehole,” Alex spat. His self control had reached its limits. “Kidnapping people to your house like a wannabe Bond villain.”
Randall smiled wryly. No doubt amused by the Bond reference. If his enemy was MI6, maybe he considered himself a Goldfinger.
“Oh? And were you and your uncle here to play James Bond?”
This made Alex frown, confused. “What?”
“I said—“
“Enough!” Ian shouted. He *needed* the man’s attention off of Alex. “Are you going to rise to a kid’s bait or talk to me like a man?”
Randall didn’t turn around. “I quite like this bait. “Why were you and your uncle here, then?”
Alex looked to Ian for guidance, and said nothing.
Annoyed, Randall snaked out a hand to grab Alex’s hair and force his head back. “Tell me, boy!”
With his neck strained so far back, pain flashed across his face. Again his eyes flicked to his uncle, who nodded his permission. There was no reason for Alex to antagonize them with silence.
“We’re on holiday,” Alex forced out, voice strained by the tension. “For my birthday.”
“Well happy birthday. How old are you?”
“Fourteen.”
Randall looked disappointed. He let go and took a step back. “You look younger, you know.”
Alex glared at him, insulted as any child told they look younger.
The man only chuckled and said, “If you’ll excuse me. I have to go freshen up before the fun begins.” He turned and went upstairs, one of the guards following him.
Now it was just them and one armed man. Ian worked furiously at his binds, trying to loosen or break the thick zip ties.
Beside him, Alex was moving his head around, trying to work out whatever damage had been done to his neck. But looking closer, Ian could see that his wrists were also moving.
“Who is he?” Alex asked, looking at him with wide eyes. “Why does he want to hurt us?”
Ian closed his eyes. How much to tell him? The truth would terrify Alex. But he deserved to know the danger he was in.
“He had some dealings with the bank,” Ian said carefully, getting a confused frown in return. “I reported him for illegal activity. From what I heard, the police raided his home and arrested him for what they found on his hard drives.”
He didn’t want to say it. Didn’t think he could. But Alex hadn’t picked up what he meant.
“What did they find on his hard drives?”
Alex deserved to know what might happen.
“Child sexual exploitation material,” Ian said, the words heavy on his tongue. Clinical terms didn’t hide the horror.
It took a moment for it to sink in. Alex frowned, and then his eyes went wide with new fear. “You mean—“ he took a shuddering breath, working hard to control his emotions. “Is he going to….. do that to me?”
“I don’t know,” Ian said, voice rough with emotion. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know.”
Alex tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling the way teenage boys do when they are desperately trying to stop tears from falling.
“I'm going to do everything I can to prevent it,” Ian promised
In a small voice, Alex said, “But you’re tied up too.”
“I didn’t think this would happen. I can’t believe— I'm so sorry Alex.”
He didn’t respond. The only sound in the room was his quiet sniffs as he kept fighting tears. After a minute or so of emotion, Alex swallowed and took a calming breath.
In a calm, level voice, he looked at the guard and said in Spanish, “Your mother is a cock sucking whore.”
Ian jerked against his bonds, expecting some violence to come from the crass insult. But the guard just stared uncomprehendingly.
“He doesn’t speak Spanish,” Alex said to Ian.
Despite all the horror, pride welled up in his chest. His boy was so clever.
They began a quiet conversation in Spanish. Discussing what they’d witnessed and observed. Three guards. One with them, one outside at the front door. The last had to be with Randall or somewhere else in the small house.
Neither of them had made much progress on the zip cuffs. Each of them had one around their wrists, and a second connecting that loop to the chair back.
“We’re going to escape, right?” Alex asked, staring at Ian with desperate, trusting eyes.
Before Ian could answer, Randall and the third guard walked in.
Randall was smiling. He looked hungry. And neither of them missed the clear tent in his pants.
“Terribly sorry for the wait,” he said. “I’m not as young as I once was. Had to wait for my little blue pill to start working.”
“Randall,” Ian commanded. “I will do whatever you want. You can do whatever you want to me. Just don’t touch him.”
Their captor scoffed. “Oh don’t worry, we will have plenty of painful time together. But I’m going to have my fun first.”
He stepped into Alex’s space, who leaned back as far as the chair would let him.
“Really, you have such a pretty face.” He grabbed Alex’s jaw, holding him still as he tried to jerk his face away.
“Randall, please!” Ian shouted.
Ignoring his protests, Randall stroked his thumb across Alex’s lips. “Such a pretty mouth. It’ll look so nice wrapped around—“
Randall screamed in pain and jerked away, holding his thumb. Blood dripped onto the floor from a deep bite. All the way to the bone, by the looks of it.
“I’ll bite it off,” Alex threatened breathlessly. He spat some blood out, only gagging once at the taste. “I swear to god, I will bite it off.”
A guard brought Randall a wad of paper towels to stop the bleeding. He took them and held them with the other hand. Then he spat, “Shock the little bastard. Until it shuts off.”
“Wait!” Ian shouted. He’d felt that stun gun in the van, only for a second or two, but it had been excruciating. It’s max was unthinkable. But he could do nothing to stop the man from shoving the prongs of his stun gun into Alex’s neck and pressing the button.
The charge rocked through Alex, locking up all the muscles in his neck and right arm, and locking his jaw shut. But he could still scream through his clenched teeth, and it was the worst sound Ian had ever heard.
The tasers used by cops automatically shut off after five seconds. This went longer.
Alex screamed out all the air in his lungs, then jerked silently against his bonds.
Ian realized he was screaming too, screaming for them to stop. He knew he was losing it. That showing weakness like this would only encourage his captors. But this wasn’t his partner on a mission. This wasn’t some random hostage. This was Alex. The child who’d been dumped in his arms 14 years ago and had burrowed his way into Ian’s dense heart.
After what felt like hours, but was probably ten seconds, the baton shut off and the guard shut if off.
The current had stopped, but Alex’s muscles didn’t stop spasming. He managed to suck in ragged breaths, but his eyes were unfocused and he was slumped against his restraints.
Ian wanted to rage and scream that Alex was a child. But clearly, that wouldn’t earn him any mercy in this room. Instead he leaned as close as he could, calling, “Alex? Alex, can you hear me? Alex!”
In the corner, Randall was watching smugly as a guard with a household first aid kit wrapped a pressure bandage around his thumb.
Eventually, Alex moaned in pain and lifted his head, brow furroughed in pain. The muscles in his neck were still twitching violently.
“Ian,” Alex said quietly, in a voice he’d heard a hundred times before. When he’d come to Ian after a nightmare or when a fall from his bike had been a bit too scary. His scared child pleading for help and comfort.
“I’m here. I’m here,” Ian promised. But what good could he do?!
Randall strolled back over and grabbed Alex’s face again, but with more violence this time. “You’ll bite it off, huh?”
Even though his eyes were unfocused and his breathing still hitched, Alex slurred, “Yeah. I’ll bite.”
The grip from the uninjured hand grew tighter and Alex’s face scrunched with fresh pain.
“Randall,” Ian tried again. “You’ve already hurt him. I doubt he can even stand. I’m the one who turned your paedo arse into the police. What, you can’t even face me when I’m tied up? So pathetic you have to take your anger out on a kid who can’t fight back?”
Usually, antagonizing a captor was a risky technique to get them to make mistakes and create an opportunity. It came with the risk that the captor may just snap and seriously hurt or kill the target of their anger.
But now Ian was just desperate to get the man’s attention on him, to get him to leave Alex alone. Even if it meant torturing him instead.
Randall’s head snapped around, but he didn’t loosen his painful grip. Pure fury lit up his eyes and his nostrils flared.
“Yeah, I’m the bastard who betrayed you. Come on, be a man and deal with me instead.”
Keeping his gaze on Ian, Randall again asked, “You’ll bite my cock off if I put it in your mouth, you little shit? Will you bite off your uncles?”
Somehow, Ian’s stomach dropped lower. He couldn’t be serious. He wouldn’t try to make them...
Alex had mostly recovered his mental faculties, but he still hadn’t understood the threat.
“Get him off the chair,” Randall barked, stepping back. “Re-do his hands in front of him.”
One of the guards cut through the zip ties and shoved Alex off the chair. He just barely stopped himself from smashing his face on the hardwood. Two guards made quick work of yanking his wrists together and securing them with a new zip tie.
Ian didn’t dare speak. Randall had to be joking. He had to just be trying to freak them out.
Now Alex was hunched over on his knees, eyes searching the room. Maybe for some opportunity that his new position gave him. But Randall yanked his head back again and said, “Clearly I can’t trust you to just be good and take it. But I can’t reward bad behavior.” He threw Alex’s head to the side, towards Ian. “Suck your uncle’s cock.”
“You can’t be serious!” Ian shouted, fighting his restraints with new fury. He had one slat in the chair loosened, just a tiny bit. “I’ll do whatever you want, just leave him alone!”
Alex was stock still and his eyes were wide with horror. “What? No!” He cried in revulsion.
Randall held his hand out, and a guard passed him a baton. “Yes. You’re going to make him come in your mouth.”
“Randall, stop this!” Ian wanted to tell Alex not to. To tell him not to listen. But it wouldn’t do any good.
Alex looked near tears again, looking from Ian to Randall like someone would say ‘psych!’. “No! I won’t do that! You can’t make me.”
That got a laugh. Then he drove the baton into Alex’s shoulder, making him collapse to the ground again with an aborted yell. He only held it for a second, but it left Alex shuddering.
“Oh can’t I?”
Even with his face pressed to the floor, Alex shook his head. “I’m not gonna do it.”
“What are you even getting out of this?” Ian demanded. He could feel blood running down his hands.
Randall pressed the power button, making electricity crackle. Alex flinched but still didn’t move. So the baton was pressed into his buttock, making his leg twitch and shake as he screamed again. He held the baton longer this time. Maybe four seconds.
“Well?”
Alex didn’t say anything, just pressed his mouth shut. It was inevitable, he should just give in. But Ian couldn’t bring himself to say that, so how could Alex bring himself to do it?
The baton shocked Alex again. Ian screamed for it to stop, the force of his voice tearing up his throat.
This time when it stopped, Randall didn’t even ask again. He just waited a few seconds, and when he was met with silence, resumed the torture. Alex’s face was wet with tears, and his
screams sounded hoarse and broken.
After an eternity, that shock ended, and Randal lifted the baton. He only waited a moment before pressing it against Alex’s shoulder again. But before he turned it on, Alex sobbed out, “Wait.”
“Oh?” Randall asked, lifting it again. “What was that?”
“I’ll do it. I’ll do it. Just-- just stop.” Alex’s voice was thick with tears, and he was shaking on the ground.
A smile split Randall's face ear to ear. “I knew we could come to an understanding!”
With great difficulty, Alex got up on his knees. He tucked his bound hands close to his chest and stared at the floor, unwilling to look at anyone.
Ian felt sick. There was less than a meter separating them. He didn’t know what to do.
“Please,” he gasped, staring at Randall. “What do you want? Anything, anything, if you don’t make him do this.”
Randall’s amusement dropped. “You took everything from me. I’m on the run and most of my money is frozen. I have nothing, and I want nothing from you. I just want to watch you suffer.” He adjusted his tented pants as he looked at Alex and said, “Except for the one thing I want right now.”
Alex winced.
There was nothing to be done. They were surrounded by men with guns. They had no choice. And Ian couldn’t get his damned hands free!
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered.
They stayed still. In limbo or a game of chicken. Until Randall barked, “Get over there!” and powered the baton. The crackling of the electricity sent Alex rocketing forward, almost falling on his face.
He caught himself with his hands on Ian’s knee, then let go like he’d touched a hot stove. Alex still didn’t look up as he shuffled to kneel in front of Ian.
Instinctively, Ian’s knees pressed together. He couldn’t bring himself to spread them. The obscenity of the whole situation made him lightheaded.
“What are we going to do?” Alex whispered in Spanish. He looked up at Ian hesitantly, like he expected him to have some solution. Some way out of this.
Ian swallowed a painful lump. “I don’t know.”
Alex’s face fell as his last piece of hope was shattered. There wasn’t a way out. If Alex didn’t do this, they’d keep torturing him until he agreed. Or until Randall got bored and killed him.
“Less whispering, more sucking!” Randall ordered. He snapped the baton on again, and Alex reached for Ian’s fly.
Ian flinched and pressed his legs closer together.
“I’m sorry,” Alex said, voice rough.
If he couldn’t stop this, he could try to at least be strong for Alex. “No, don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault. It’s not your choice.”
Nodding, Alex fumbled Ian’s belt open. His bound wrists made it harder, but he managed to get his fly open and unzipped, revealing his grey underwear.
He took a breath to steel himself, then closed his eyes and plunged a hand inside to pull Ian’s cock free of his pants.
It lay on the fabric limp and pale, as uninterested as it ever had been. Alex stared at it like a snake that would bite him any second. He looked green, and like he might fall over any second.
“Stop staring and get on with it!” Randall called.
“I don’t know what to do,” Alex admitted, face flushed in shame.
This was probably Alex’s first sexual experience. The revelation hit Ian like a stone, making his horror and sadness and anger swell further. Mostly though, he was just so sad for his nephew.
Randall’s smile grew. The cat that caught the canary. “Pick it up and put it in your mouth. Then suck.”
“I’m going to kill you, you sick bastard,” Ian promised. He was ignored by Randall, but Alex sent him a surprised look.
Alex reached for Ian’s cock again and leaned his head down, but the knees were in the way. “Uh, Ian,” he said quietly.
It took all his will, but Ian spread his legs. Alex shuffled closer and Ian tried close his eyes to avoid the horrible, obscene sight. A cold hand touched his cock, then warm lips met the head. He sucked in a breath at the touch, jerking his hips away and opening his eyes again. But he was as trapped as Alex.
“I’m sorry,” he said again.
Alex sucked at the head like it was a candy. Just a constant pressure. His eyes were squeezed tightly shut and every muscle was wound taut.
“You can do better than that! Get some more in there! Bob your head!”
Alex made a noise between anger and humiliation as he hesitantly pressed his head forward and took half of Ian’s length into his mouth. He then moved his head up and down that section.
It was sensation that, under normal circumstances, would feel good. But the revulsion of the situation kept Ian’s cock soft and uninterested. And when teeth caught the fragile skin of his foreskin, he let out a grunt of pain.
Alex abruptly stopped and started to pull back, but the crack of electricity made him freeze with the head still between his lips. His jaw must be aching. But he looked up at Ian in question, wondering what had hurt him.
Swallowing down his nausea, he said, “Your uh. Your teeth.” And if he thought too much about what he was giving his nephew advice on, he’d lose his mind.
And Alex looked embarassed. As if being told he was doing something wrong even compared to what was happening.
“This was a great idea,” Randall said, self satisfied. “I’ll get him after he’s been trained up. Now, back to work! You haven’t even gotten him hard.”
Alex’s shoulders shook, as if just now realizing that Randall wouldn’t stop after this violation.
While Ian didn’t consider himself a charitable man, or even a nice one, he had never felt such hatred for someone. Hate was a useless emotion, and he never allowed his targets or even attackers such space in his mind. But the hatred that burned in his chest was unlike anything he’d ever felt. He flexed his bloodied fists, wishing he had them around Randall’s throat.
But they were still helpless, and so Alex went back to his task. His lips were now covering his teeth and he was moving his tongue against the underside of Ian’s cock. There still was no reaction, as the adrenalin and the situation kept Ian soft.
“Try harder!” Randall barked, seeming annoyed at the lack of reaction. “Get his entire cock in your throat.”
Unfortunately, Ian was a shower, not a grower. So even without the extra length and girth, Alex struggled and gagged as he reached the base. His nose brushed the coarse hairs there for a few seconds until he jerked back.
Alex pulled off of Ian’s cock and hunched forward as he gasped and retched. Tears wet his cheeks as he desperately caught his breath.
“Did I tell you to stop? And jesus, you still can’t do it right!” Randall advanced on them, electricity snapping and popping on the baton. The sound cause Alex to flinch and curl into himself, bracing for pain.
“Don’t hurt him, it’s not his fault!” Ian shouted. He pulled as hard as he could against his restraints, and actually felt some progress! But blinding pain burning through his hand as he felt skin starting to tear off. He stopped pulling, gritting his teeth through the sting. Instead he channeled it into his rageful glare at their captor.
Randall scoffed. He shut off the electricity, but shoved Alex’s shoulder with the tip. It made Alex flinch violently, and Ian’s bloodlust was getting out of control. “He’s the one doing a bad job. Jesus, can’t even get a cock hard with his mouth?”
His breaths were coming fast and hard with anger as Ian grit out, “He’s a fucking kid, he doesn’t know what he’s doing. And it’s hard to get it up when you’re disgusted and frightened.”
He felt an additional layer of failure as he admitted his fear. He wasn’t being strong for Alex when he most needed him. He wasn’t being the unflappable rock he’d always been.
“Then for his sake, I suggest you think of something pleasant,” Randall said. He kicked Alex where he was still hunched over and gasping. “Get back to work.”
As Alex straightened back up and shuffled forward again, Ian said, “I’m sorry, Alex. About all of this.”
Still Alex didn’t look at him. “Please stop talking.”
Ian could do that. He could let them both try and pretend the other person wasn’t involved. Closing his eyes, he leveled his breathing and tried to meditate. Warm lips made him jump, but he settled back down. Every muscle was tense, and he went from toe to head relaxing them. But before he could fully relax, Alex made a loud choking sound and he tensed again.
It was pointless. But he tried.
Normally, Ian had a good internal clock. It was a useful skill in a profession where he may wait in the dark for hours. But he didn’t know if he could trust it now. After what felt like ten minutes, neither of them had made any progress.
The only difference is that Alex had to take more breaks to breathe as his nose had been clogged with tears. And opening his mouth brought small noises of pain, his jaw was probably in agony.
Randall didn’t interrupt. He just snapped the baton if he felt Alex was taking too long of a break.
Eventually, eventually, Ian felt tension building in his gut. His cock was still soft, but his breathing was faster and he felt flushed. Maybe this would end soon.
His orgasm was a surprise to them both.
Without any warning, Ian’s balls pulled upwards and cum pulsed out of his slit. It was the oddest, least satisfying release he’d ever had. He’d managed to come while soft the entire time.
As soon as the salty bitterness hit his tongue, Alex rocketed backwards. He hunched forward again, frantically spitting onto the hardwood beneath him. The taste sent him dry heaving again as spit and tears and cum dripped off his chin.
“God, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize,” Ian gasped, his heart racing and face red.
There was a laugh beside them. Randall clapped his hand together and doubled over in laughter. “Oh, that’s perfect. You couldn’t get it up, but he still got you there. Now that is skill.”
“Are you alright?” Ian asked, ignoring the cruelty.
Alex didn’t answer, he just kept spitting and wiping his mouth. His awful task finished, he shuffled back away from the puddle of cum on the floor. Away from Ian. Would he be able to stand the sight of him after this?
Randall walked back into his line of sight. The man looked all too pleased and was stroking his cock.
“You got what you wanted, you sick bastard,” Ian growled. “Let Alex go.”
Another chuckle. “No it looks like you got what you wanted,” Randall mocked, drawing a sound of incredulous anger from Ian. “I haven’t had my turn yet.”
That got Alex’s attention, and his head snapped up to watch the man. “No.” He shuffled farther back.
“God damn it, you’ve done enough! Please!”
“What was it you said about sucking your uncles cock? ‘You can’t make me?’” He mocked, stepping in front of Alex. He snatched his hair, forcing his head back again. “I think I--”
Randall cried out in pain and let go as Alex kicked his knee. The man stumbled and the guards stepped forward. But Randall said “No! I have this.”
As Alex was trying to scramble to his feet to fight or run, Randall brought the baton down across his shoulders. It wasn’t on, but the force of it sent him back to the ground with a grunt.
Ian went wild. He pulled at the zipties again, ignoring the agony it caused. “Get away from him! Stop!”
Alex turned to his side and kicked out again, but Randall side stepped it. In retribution, he brought the electrified prongs down onto Alex’s thigh. Again, Alex thrashed and screamed, and his flailing legs almost knocked Randall off his feet.
The screams were boring holes into Ian’s brain. He yanked one last time with all his strength, and screamed as the skin tore off the side of his palm. His hand pulled free.
Randall was standing over Alex, trying to yank the boys pants down.
His vision narrowed to just the three of them. He ignored the guards. He ignored how he was bleeding. All that mattered was the monster on top of Alex.
The other hand came free easily, and Ian lunged off his seat. He landed across Randall and Alex, and make quick work of wrapping his arm around the man’s neck. Using grappling skills he’d used since bootcamp, he planted his feet and forced them backwards, off of Alex.
Randall opened his mouth to shout, but Ian broke his neck before he could say a word.
A gunshot split the air, and Ian ducked, letting the body fall to the floor. He looked up and saw Alex, hands still bound, grappling with the one guard who’d had a gun. The bullet had gone wide, and struck the wall two feet from where Ian’s head would have been.
Alex had saved his life.
Ian lunged forward again and used Alex’s distraction to force the gun from the guards hands. Now it was his, and he stepped back and fired it into the ceiling.
The guards froze, and Alex slumped back to the ground, adrenaline rush depleted.
“Your boss is dead,” Ian announced, in the most controlled voice he could manage. “No one is going to pay you for anything else you do tonight, and we haven’t seen your faces. Just leave.”
It was a stand off. None of them moved, but Ian’s hands didn’t falter. He kept the gun on the closest guard, finger on the trigger.
Then the guard closest to the door said something in Swedish and ran out the door. It was like a spell had been broken, and the other two men quickly retreated.
He stood there, gun pointed at the door, until he heard Alex sniff loudly, trying to clear his tears. The threat was gone. It was just him, Alex, and the body.
Ian quickly tucked the gun into his waist band, tucked himself away, and strode to a couch to snatch a throw blanket. Randall’s body was crumpled on the floor, and he threw the blanket over his face. Not out of respect, but so Alex didn’t have to see it.
He felt his still bleeding hands start to shake, but he couldn’t allow that. The adrenaline crash couldn’t come yet. With only a glance to make sure Alex was breathing, he strode into the kitchen of the cottage.
There was a roll of papertowels, and he used them to staunch the bleeding from his hand. It looked frightening but was superficial. He tore strips from a dish towel and tied them to secure it.
A house phone sat on a receiver on the counter, and he quietly called the bank. After relaying most of what happened (despite protocol, he omitted the worst details) and getting permission, he hung up and dialed 112.
He let the shakes seep into his voice as he told the english speaking dispatcher that he and his nephew had been abducted, and that he didn’t know where they were. After giving the bare minimum of information, he left it off the receiver so it could be tracked.
A quick rifle through a drawer netted him a pair of kitchen shears and a knife.
Finally, his duty done, he rushed back to Alex. The boy had gotten himself onto one of the couches and was curled with his legs to his chin, watching the doorway for him to come back.
“I called the authorities. They’re looking up the address and are on the way” Ian explained. He crouched in front of the sofa and held up the shears. “Can I cut your wrists free?”
“You’re bleeding,” was Alex’s response, staring at the blood soaked towels.
Ian flexed all his fingers and turned his wrist, “I’m fine, see?”
Accepting the answer, Alex offered his hands to be cut free. His wrists were also bleeding, and Ian tied the other towel strips around each one. That done, Alex hugged his now bandaged arms to his chest again and looked off into the distance.
Ian sighed. His presence was probably only making Alex more upset, after what they’d been forced to do. “Alex. Would you like me to wait in the kitchen while you sit here?”
Now Alex looked at him and frowned. “You don’t want to be near me? I’m sorry Ian I didn’t--”
“No,” Ian said sternly. “Tha’ts not it at all. I will wait there only if you want to be alone.”
Alex shook his head rapidly and reached out towards him. He clenched his fists in Ian’s shirt and pressed his face into his shoulder.
“You’re safe now, I’ve got you. It’s all going to be alright,” Ian soothed, holding Alex to his chest as the boy shook with his own adrenaline crash. As he looked down at his nephew, Ian knew he would die before he’d let anything like this happen again.