With Or Without Him Part 34

"I'm sorry if I got Tyler into trouble because I didn't tell the police about Prescott."

"Tyler's current problems aren't connected with Prescott. I don't think."

Jeremy sighed and winced. "I can't say anything. It would kill my mother if she found out I'd been paid for s.e.x."

"Do what you think best, Jeremy. Being honest might be painful but it's rarely the wrong thing to do."

By the time Haris managed to track down Simon Keys from Spot magazine, and persuaded him to provide the phone numbers for the other members of the band, he'd almost reached Tyler's bedsit. He banged on the door and pressed every buzzer until he found someone to let him in. But he'd wasted his time. Police tape still criss-crossed the door and there was a security lock in place.

Back on the street, Haris called the first name on the list. Des. "Hi, it's Haris. I'm looking for Tyler."

He crossed his fingers hoping Tyler hadn't told the band members not to speak to him.

"He wanted to stay at mine but he didn't arrive in time," Des said. "I told him he had to get there before I left on a date."

"Could someone else have let him in?"

"Everyone's out."

"Would he have gone to stay with Newt or Col?"

"They're on their way north for the holidays. Tyler sounded really grateful he could stay with me so I'm kind of surprised he didn't make it. I called him as I was leaving to see if he was close, but there was no answer."

"If you hear from him, please contact me." Haris gave him his number.

Now what the h.e.l.l was he supposed to do? The police weren't going to help. He had no proof Tyler was in danger, but the deep ache in his gut told him he was. He tried Malik's number but it went straight to voicemail.

Haris made another call as he headed for the Tube. "Adil?"

"Halaw wallai."

He stopped walking. The first time he'd heard his brother's voice in thirteen years. "It's me. Haris."

Adil gasped. "Haris?"

"How are you?"

"I'm good. How are you?"

"Not so good. Father's here."

"Yes."

"And so apparently are Malik and Ras.h.i.+d." He didn't know that for certain but he suspected it was true. "I need you to tell me everything you know."

"Why should I?"

"Because I'm worried about someone I care for."

Adil gave a cold laugh. "You never worried about me. You never contacted me. You said you would and you never did. Malik has been the brother you should have been."

Oh f.u.c.k. "I tried," Haris said quickly before Adil cut the connection. "My emails came back undelivered. I wrote but you didn't write back. I couldn't return to Saudi. I thought...I thought one day you might look for me. I'm not hard to find."

"Malik said..."

Haris could guess what Malik had said. The f.u.c.king snake.

"You know father is dying?" Adil whispered.

"He told me."

"Malik wants to run the business with me. Not with you."

"I don't care about the business. I only care about protecting the people I...I love. Adil, mistakes have been made. I'm sorry you haven't been part of my life. I'd love you to come and stay with me in London."

It wasn't a lie, and Haris needed Adil on his side if he was to find out anything about Malik.

"What do you want?" Adil asked. His tone of voice didn't suggest he'd been won over by Haris's offer.

"I need to speak to Malik."

"I'll ask him to call you."

Adil cut him off.

Haris tried Malik's number again but there was no response. Stan answered on the second ring.

"Can you trace cell phones?"

"It depends."

"This is an emergency, Stan. I need your help."

Tyler felt as if he were swimming in mud. Even the air he sucked into his lungs seemed to weigh him down. It was hard to think straight. He was on his feet, but someone was supporting him otherwise he'd have slithered to the floor. They were inside a building and it was dark and noisy. He no longer wore his coat. He couldn't see properly. Everything was hazy. What were those mixed up sounds? Music? Screams? Moans? Tyler tried to pull away from whoever hung onto him, but they just held him tighter.

With no small amount of effort, he turned his head and saw that the guy who gripped his arm wore a leather mask covering the top half of his face. That's not good.

"Where...?" Tyler managed one word.

"Here you go," someone said. Not the man holding him.

Tyler stumbled through a door and crashed to the floor. He put his hands out to break his fall but he still landed heavily and groaned. The floor was cold and sticky and smelled of...oh f.u.c.k. He gagged. Strong arms hoisted him into a sitting position, and the man shoved him against a wall and let him go. He heard the sound of two bolts sliding closed and then a phone was pushed into his hand. My phone. When did I lose that?

"Call Haris. Tell him come to Garden of h.e.l.l. Room Seven."

Garden of h.e.l.l. He'd never heard of it. Even in the depths of Tyler's befuddled-I have to be drugged-brain, he registered that this was the guy from the cafe, the orchestra thing had been a lie and he knew Haris. Tyler's heart pounded and his stomach churned. I'm bait in a trap. He couldn't ask Haris to come here. Nothing good would come of it. The man pulled the mask off his head and glared at him. Another lever clicked into place. Curly dark hair. Tall. Foreign. s.h.i.+t. Was this the b.a.s.t.a.r.d who'd stabbed Jeremy? Was it so much of a jump? Why can't I think straight?

"Use your phone. Tell Haris to come. Tell him I whip you until he does."

The man pulled a whip from a bag. Oh f.u.c.k. Tyler pretended to fumble with the phone before he managed to slap it to his ear.

"What do you want, you little s.h.i.+t?" Prescott snapped.

"I'm in Room Seven at Garden of h.e.l.l. Please come. I need your help."

"Why the f.u.c.k should I help you?"

"Because...I'll owe you."

Tyler ended the call and stuffed the phone back in his pocket. He looked up at the man. Distract him. "Who are you?"

"Ras.h.i.+d Al-Dakhil."

"Am I supposed to know you?"

"Take off your clothes."

"Why do you want Haris?"

The crack of the whip made Tyler cry out in surprise. The noise was deafening. He didn't realize he'd been struck until pain flared in his lower leg. f.u.c.k it, that hurt.

"Take your clothes off."

Didn't seem like a good idea.

Ras.h.i.+d pulled a knife out of a scabbard fastened to his lower leg. "Do it or I cut off your fingers one by one."

Now stripping seemed a really good idea. He wasn't going to hurry. He still had his phone but would Ras.h.i.+d check it? He was an idiot not to. He didn't look like an idiot but he looked mad. A muscle twitched in his cheek and his lips were compressed into a thin line. Tyler stripped. He didn't have to pretend to go slow, his fingers weren't exactly cooperative. They were probably more scared than the rest of him. Except for maybe a couple of bits of his anatomy doing their best to hide behind his kidneys.

"I don't want to be whipped," Tyler said. "I haven't done anything to you. Why do you want to hurt me?"

He glanced at the door. Two bolts. One high, one low. Even if he managed to pull back one, this guy would be on him before he reached the other. To the left side of the door, a curtain hung across what he a.s.sumed was a window. It was too high to throw himself against. He tried to stand up to take off his pants, fell and banged his elbow. Tyler swallowed hard. How long before this drug wore off? Maybe he should pretend to be more uncoordinated than he was. He lingered over removing his pants but eventually they lay on the floor.

The whip sliced through the air and came down on his arm. "Everything off."

"f.u.c.k," Tyler gasped and rubbed his arm.

An angry red welt bloomed on his skin to match the one on his calf. He shuffled out of his boxers and curled up with his hands over his c.o.c.k and b.a.l.l.s.

"Look, I'll do whatever you want but lay off with the whip. It f.u.c.king hurts."

Ras.h.i.+d dragged him across the room by his hair and Tyler fought to get free, but the f.u.c.ker had little difficulty securing him. He yelled for help, twisted and squirmed, but he still ended up with his wrists in leather restraints. He shook from head to toe as he hung on the wall.

"Tell me why you're doing this?" he blurted.

Did I make a mistake calling Prescott? Tyler a.s.sumed he'd be furious enough with him to respond to the call, but maybe he'd just stand and watch while whip-guy went berserk. Oh f.u.c.k. But he couldn't have brought Haris into this.

You're an idiot.

Yeah, I know.

"Face wall."

"Please," Tyler said. "Don't do this."

"You want me whip your c.o.c.k?"

Tyler turned. He gripped the restraints and tensed. He heard the swish of the whip moving through the air and tried to press himself through the bricks. The strike felt like a knife raking down his back. Before he had time to draw another breath, the whip hit him again and he screamed.

"Please. I'm not into this. Stop it. Stop. Finish. End. Give in. Surrender. Banana. Whatever f.u.c.king word you want. Please."

There was a loud bang on the door and Tyler shouted, "Get me out of here. This guy's a f.u.c.king lunatic."

Ras.h.i.+d grabbed his hair and forced a sock into his mouth. Tyler heard him pulling on the bolts and he tried to push out the sock with his tongue as he turned. Prescott couldn't have got here this fast.

Oh f.u.c.k. Not Prescott. Lu.

Chapter Twenty.

"Who are you?" Ras.h.i.+d asked Lu. He had the mask back on his face. It worried Tyler that his abductor didn't care if he saw him but didn't want anyone else to.

"Who are you?" Lu snapped. "This my sub. You no right to whip."

Tyler struggled to spit the gag out. He felt like he was choking. Lu stalked across the room and pulled out the sock. Tyler gulped air into a dry throat and tried to ask for help.

"How you know he here?" Ras.h.i.+d asked.

"I hear Tyler scream. I know sound anywhere. He cry like big baby."

f.u.c.k you but keep talking. At least he wasn't being hit.

"He..." Tyler tried again to speak but he couldn't get the words out.

Something warm trickled down his back and he guessed it was blood. At least he couldn't see it, but...don't f.u.c.king think about it.

"Lu. Help me," Tyler rasped. "He drugged me. Don't want this."

"Get out," Ras.h.i.+d snapped.

"What his word?" Lu asked.

"I don't have a f.u.c.king word," Tyler choked out. "He just wants to hurt me."