Austin hummed, then went quiet for a beat before he chuckled. "Well, your porn stash wasn’t hard to find."
Cam laughed and figured Austin had taken a guess on the one cabinet in the entertainment center that came with a lock. "Wouldn’t wanna freak out my mom. Dad and Landon advised me to lock it up." His father's exact words had been,
"Let's not give your mother any ideas."
"You don’t think Lily's ever seen porn?" Austin snorted.
Cam was impressed. After having only met his parents briefly at the hospital, Austin had evidently formed a fairly accurate view of Lily and Jonathan Nash. Well, at least Lily, who was very free-spirited and carefree. She'd been the Irish hippie from San Francisco who'd fallen for a more conservative architect. Not that there was anything conservative left in Cam's dad. Now he was the mellowed-out voice of reason who kept Lily grounded. And in return, Lily made sure Jonathan never forgot how to spell "fun."
Grinning to himself, Cam took the food and drinks and returned to the living room. "Not porn with dudes doing each other," he answered, setting down Coke, beer, chips, and the sandwiches. "All right. Let's see what's on." He sat on the edge of his bed and grabbed the remote. The large flat screen flickered to life; meanwhile, Austin sat down next to Cam, and he appeared to be confused.
"Dudes?"
Cam gave him a sideways glance. "Yeah." He left it at that, not wanting to elaborate, and faced the TV, quickly finding one of the sports channels. "You mind if I…?" He pointed to the smokes and the ashtray on the coffee table. All the windows and the patio door were still open, but he didn’t know if Austin was okay with it.
"Go ahead." Austin shrugged.
To Cam, it looked like Austin was somewhere else. Miles away, in fact. That worried him, 'cause he knew firsthand where he involuntarily ended up when his mind wandered.
*
"What the fuck?" Cam scratched his scruffy chin and scowled at the paper. "It says here that I'm a deadbeat punk hiding behind a smile."
This was just a nightmare, right?
"This isn't a schedule." Austin was scanning his own paper, absently spinning the wedding band on his finger. Like in old prison movies, there was a hatch in the door. That was where their kidnapper had slipped in the papers. Reading it was giving him a headache because he didn’t have his glasses. He only wore them at work—and when he read the paper in the mornings. "It's a script." In the faint fluorescent light, they saw what were obviously instructions for characters. Nothing "schedule" about it. There were traits, hobbies, and vague descriptions.
"He's gotta be certifiable," Cam said quietly, looking around himself warily.
In the small cell, they were surrounded by metal. Only the back wall was different; it was drywall strengthened with metal panels. Even the dirt floor was enhanced with a metal net—to prevent digging, he supposed.
Nothing around them could be used as a weapon.
Between the unyielding cots they'd never call beds was a bucket of water, a washcloth, and a bar of soap. They each had a blanket. Next to the solid, steel door there was a chrome-like toilet attached to the wall. The toilet paper was of the cheapest industrial kind.
For utensils, they'd been given plastic spoons and a tin cup.
That was it. And now the scripts.
"Has anyone tried to overpower him?" Austin whispered.
Cam shrugged, craving a cigarette. "How? I've never even seen him. He doesn’t open the doors, as far as I know. Only when someone new comes, and…" He swallowed, glared, and averted his eyes. "He aimed a gun at me when you were thrown in here. I-I froze." He chuckled without humor. "Thirty-three years old and I froze like a fuckin' kid."
Austin frowned and took in his surroundings for the umpteenth time. "What about food delivery? Change of water?" He was already at a loss, but there had to be
something
they could do.
Cam jerked his chin, gesturing to the wall they shared with the neighboring cell. "Those two guys next to us are refusing to send out or accept anything. So, Psycho doesn’t bother to knock. At least that’s how it's been for the past two days."
"Psycho." Austin snorted. "Fitting. And original."
Cam scowled. "You got a better name for him? 'Cause that’s what we should focus on here, right? His fucking name."
Austin quieted and looked down at his papers again.
What he could conclude was that they all had roles to play, and for the sake of keeping his sanity, he chose to see the silver lining. With a task assigned to him, it wasn’t likely the kidnapper had plans to kill him, right? Yet. Or whatever.
They needed to stall until they either found a way out or until the police tracked them down.
After several days in captivity, it became clear just how unstable their kidnapper was. Not only did he wish everyone a merry Christmas when he delivered their meals one day, but he also told them to relax and take a few days off work to be with family.
For the record, it was February.
Another thing: Mr. Stone now wanted to be called Mr. Cold.
During the "holidays," he only came down to the basement to deliver food and change the water in the buckets. Well, he did it for those who weren’t on strike. Those who poured the old water from the bucket down the toilet and then held it up under the hatch so "Psycho" could stick in a garden hose and fill it up again were treated slightly better. They accepted the food and got the usual chicken soup, stale bread, and a tin cup of lukewarm milk. The bowls for the soup were made of hard paper.
*
The game Austin wasn’t following had been on for almost thirty minutes when he checked the time. He had to leave within the hour if he wanted to be home for dinner, and it wasn’t really an option. Riley would be upset if he broke his promise.
He wasn’t ready to drive home just yet, though. His mind kept going back to Cam's casual words about his, uh, movie collection. Gay porn? Was that what he meant? Austin had never really given it any thought, but he'd figured Cam was straight. He knew there were a couple women Cam met up with now and then; he'd found out about that at the hospital.
To go even further, Austin never really thought about sexual orientation at all. His parents had raised him that way after a cousin of his on his dad's side had come out as gay and Austin's aunt and uncle hadn't reacted well. Instead, Griffin and Maggie Huntley had swooped in.
Austin's cousin, Derek, was a few years older, and he'd come out right before he took off for college on the East Coast. So, it wasn’t like Derek had moved in with Austin's family, but his parents had still intervened; they became surrogate parents to Derek, the ones who called and asked how everything was, sent care packages to his dorm, and invited him home for all the holidays.
Maggie had said, "They're not gay people. They're people. It's pretty darn simple."
She had been so furious at Griffin's brother for basically shunning his own son, and who could blame her? Austin didn’t understand why it was a big deal, period. But now? He couldn’t help but wonder about Cam and his preferences.
The thought of Cam getting off to gay porn shot tingles of something unidentifiable through Austin.
The closest Austin had gotten was the threesome he'd drunkenly had with a girl and another guy when he was at USC. He didn’t really remember a whole lot of that night, though. It was one of the rare times his roommate had managed to pull the stick out of Austin's ass and dragged him away from his studies to go out.
"The Bruins are really killing it," he heard Cam say.
"Huh?" Austin snapped back to the present. "Oh, yeah. They're good."
"Wow, you're really out there." Cam studied him, a smile on his face but concern in his eyes. "The hockey season hasn’t even started yet. And unless you're secretly from Boston, I can't allow Bruins fans in my home."
Austin frowned and zeroed in on the game—which was obviously a rerun, and it was basketball. His frown morphed into a scowl, and he felt a flare of anger surging up. Jesus, he had to get a grip. At any hour of the day, he could get irrationally angry for no reason.
"This was actually one of the reasons I wanted you to come over today," Cam said and lit up a smoke. "Something's up. Do you notice that you shut down and space out?"
Austin knew, but this hadn't been one of those times. Now…Cam was worried about him, but all he'd been thinking about was whether or not Cam liked cock.
He made a face and adjusted in his seat. "I have it under control," he lied. "I have a session with Gale tomorrow. We talk…about it."
"About what?"
"About, you know." Austin's shoulder tensed up, and he got defensive, more anger spiking. "What about your own damn issues, huh?" He shook his head and stood up. "Never mind. I have to go."
Austin didn’t give Cam a chance to react before he left.
He knew he was being a coward, running away like that, but he couldn’t deal with it right now. In captivity, both men had tackled their problems whether they wanted to or not. It had gotten to the point where nothing intimidated them—not even weapons. They'd been desperate for freedom, for the chance of healing.
Four words had become their motto:
"Gun or no gun."
Regardless of obstacles, they'd fight for their lives. But now they were hiding. They couldn’t even be truthful with each other.
Gale, a patient woman, was in her mid-forties, Austin guessed. Wavy, black hair, brown eyes, kindness ever present, and red lipstick on her teeth. She could stare all day long, never breaking the silence that stretched on. She had asked him about his anger, and he didn’t want to answer. He didn’t know
how
to answer.
Austin felt like a damn fool for being here.
As much as he resented Jade for asking him to forget it all and leave the past in the past, he wanted to do the same. He wanted to go back to normal where he knew what he was doing. Things were simpler then. He'd wake up, get ready, eat breakfast, take Riley to school if Jade had an early meeting, then head off to work, crunch numbers, analyze statistics, hold meetings, report to the main office in LA, come home, eat dinner, help Riley with her homework, watch some TV, go to bed, on occasion make love to his wife… On weekends, they'd spend time as a family, go visit Riley's grandparents—do normal stuff together. There were barbecues, day trips, vacations.
Yesterday after he had left Cam's house, he'd been passive and silent while Jade prepared dinner. He'd pretended to listen to Riley's retelling of her day at the zoo with Austin's folks. Then, that night, he'd
fucked
Jade for the first time. Ever.
He had always been an attentive lover, but he didn’t feel it anymore. He had so much shit bottled up inside him; there was no patience, no tenderness, no foreplay. He had fucked her, plain and simple, and Jade had moaned in all the right places, but he wasn’t stupid. She hadn't liked it at all.
Austin wasn’t himself anymore, and it unnerved him.
Jade certainly didn’t like the new version of him.
"Things aren’t easy anymore," he said, shifting in his seat. Today was the first day in months he was wearing a suit. He didn’t know why he'd put it on this morning. Perhaps it was to feel more like his old self? Regardless, it wasn’t working. "There's no, uh…" He searched for the right word. "Stability."
"Understandable." Gale nodded. "It will take time to get back to what you're used to—if it'll ever happen. You need to remember that what you've been through has changed many things."
Austin didn’t need that reminder.
"How have you spent your days since you were released from the hospital?" Gale asked with a tilt of her head.
He sighed and leaned back, thinking mainly about Riley. "I've done what you suggested; I've spent time with my family. I've taken things slowly, readjusting and so on." He ran a hand through his light brown hair. It wasn’t as styled as it had been in the past. No wax. It used to be a lot shorter than the three or so inches it was now, and it was messy, to boot. There was also a night's worth of scruff, and he hadn't bothered with cologne or anything. He didn’t feel like it. "I've…relaxed?" He didn’t know why that came out as a question.
"And you don’t like relaxing," she guessed.
Austin shrugged. "It was easier when I had a routine to follow."
When Gale asked him what a "normal" day entailed, Austin told her—in great detail. From the breakfast he usually ate and how he got ready in the morning, to how they worked together in the evenings with dinner, homework, clearing the table, and going to bed.
"That’s not only about liking routines," she said gently. "It's also about being in control. You know what's happening around you, and you know your tasks. You prefer a well-oiled machine because nothing is strange or new. And, Austin—" she leaned forward in her seat "—you weren’t in control when you were held against your will. It's no wonder you're angry."
Austin said nothing, though her words did make sense. But it wasn’t only about that. He felt like…like a…damn, he didn’t even know. A failure? Maybe. Because in the past, he hadn't failed when it really mattered. He was a decent husband, a good father, and he could provide for his family. He made sure to take time aside with his girls, too. A weekend here with Jade, a weekend there with Riley.
Now there was no routine. There was a bunch of new crap, and…there was Cam.
He frowned and looked down.
*
Austin began to notice how fidgety and agitated Cam became the crazier their kidnapper turned out to be. He was repeating things to himself, too. Over and over, Cam would mumble about loss of control as he seemed to tap his fingers together. No, Austin changed his mind; it was the pad of his thumb that he tapped to his other fingers. Cam's…quirk…caused his cuffs to clink softly with each movement, and
that
annoyed Austin.