Chapter Twenty-Eight -- Rescue Me
Keres had taken it upon himself to feed him and give him water, and Otis had obeyed without protest, even if the water from the plastic bottle in the man's hand had shaken enough to make most of it spill over his chin and down his shirt. He didn't like it when things got messy, but his need to straighten up his clothes and change into something else had to be reined in. There was no change of clothes available for him. He wasn't at home, but in the hands of a dangerous person, who could change his tune at any moment.
"Let's get you cleaned up," Keres ordered after brushing his gloved hand over Otis's mouth a few more times to remove some wayward crumbs.
Otis had only nibbled at the food, his stomach too tight to accept anything beyond a few bites. He knew that trying to force too much into his belly would only lead to stomachaches and he intended to avoid anything that could make him less fit for the self-saving operation he was trying to concoct in his weary mind.
He accepted the offered hand and walked behind Keres like a child.
"Can I have a pair of socks?" he asked meekly, not as much because he wanted to assure his captor that he had no intention of getting away, but because he still felt faint from the lack of nourishment and water endured over what felt like more than twelve hours. Maybe sixteen. More even. Having no sense of day and night added to his confusion even more.
Keres looked at him and then down at his bare feet. Otis curled his toes into the carpet as if making such a futile effort was enough to protect the patch of skin visible from any bad intentions.
"You have lovely feet," Keres said. "I will kiss them for hours. Before I break each and every one of your little toes." Everything that came out of the metallic throat sounded even, without any inflection, but Otis already knew his captor better than that. Keres looked forward to doing all those horrible things to him. He was excited at the prospect, while Otis felt a cold chill running down his spine. He had to have faith. He hadn't despaired before, and he wouldn't start now.
There was no offer of socks, and Otis didn't insist. They walked out of the room and down the corridor until they reached what had to be a bathroom. The small room was cramped and had only an open shower.
Keres helped him out of his clothes, and Otis had to fight the need to limit how much the gloved hands touched his bare skin. When otherwise violent people chose kindness, it was better to sit still and do nothing in an effort to avoid their wrath. He stood under the warm spray, accepting the way he was being stared at. At least, Keres didn't seem keen on getting wet, and that worked to his advantage. Otis could truly use a break from feeling his skin crawl with apprehension. He hadn't quite gotten that expression when he had learned it for the first time, but it made sense now. The sensation he was experiencing was like that of a thousand creepy crawlers moving all over his skin.
"Such a lovely human being you are," Keres commented as Otis washed himself thoroughly. "You were made for me to love you."
When hateful people used words like 'love', it didn't mean anything. They had to be pitied. They had no ability to feel love, whether it was directed at them, or if they imagined they cared for someone else. That thing about pity, Otis didn't understand it. He felt no pity now.
***
Hudson listened as the door opened but made no move to show that he was awake. It was better to pretend as much as possible with this bunch.
"Rise and shine, future stars," Watkins announced in a cheery voice that grated on Hudson's nerves.
The guys began waking up slowly, and Hudson made a show of stretching and yawning, although he hadn't been able to sleep for more than a half hour at a time. His fractured sleep had everything to do with his worries about Otis and what these people might do to him.
"You," Watkins said, pointing at him, "the boss wants to see you."
Hudson worked a kink in his neck and grimaced. "Can I freshen up first?"
"No need for that. Move."
He followed without saying a word. He didn't like it when something happened that he couldn't make sense of. Watkins was right behind him, pushing him in the direction he wanted him to go. Jackie tried to tag along, but Watkins stopped him and sent him back to his chores, barking orders.
Keres was inside one room that must have been reserved to act as sort of a temporary office, and Hudson took his time looking it over, while the big boss appeared engaged in a long phone conversation.
"Yes, I know it is a bit of an inconvenience, but something came up."
Hudson was all ears, even if his eyes were busy looking bored while taking in his surroundings. Keres finally finished his conversation and then placed his gloved hands on the large desk, linking them tightly.
"You wanted to see me, boss?" Hudson asked, standing with his feet apart and his arms crossed to show that he wasn't the kind to be easily intimidated.
"Yeah," Keres said and added nothing for a while.
"Well?" Hudson asked as the silence stretched. Watkins wasn't saying a word, either. Hudson threw him a short look and got nothing in return.
Keres moved slowly, putting a hand in his pocket and then removing something from it. When he placed the thing on desk, Hudson felt his gut twisting. Nonetheless, he lifted his gaze to give Keres a confused look.
"Should we call the only number stored in the phone's memory?" Keres asked.
How had that gotten there? Hudson's mind raced with various possibilities. He hadn't dropped it, not in a million years. Had someone stolen it from him? But who? Jackie? No, that couldn't be, right? Angel, then? He looked like the kind of guy who wouldn't mind searching other people's pockets, and when he had been in Jasper's room, he had taken off his jacket for a bit.
It didn't matter. It could be an exact copy of the kind of burner he used, but he didn't see Keres as the type of guy to bluff.
He shrugged. "Why are you asking me?" He looked again at Watkins; his eyebrows raised in lack of comprehension. "What's going on?"
"Let's see," Keres said and initiated the call without removing his eyes from Hudson.
The call connected on the second ring. But only silence followed. Gavin wasn't born yesterday. For long seconds, nothing happened. And then, a click. The call ended.
"So strange," Keres commented. "But silence is also an answer, isn't that how the saying goes?"
Hudson shrugged again. "I don't understand."
"Oh, really? Isn't this yours?" Keres pushed the phone toward him, but Hudson made no move to pick it up.
"No. Mine is this one," Hudson said and pulled the other phone out of his jeans, making sure to keep the same look of surprise on his face all the time.
Keres made a gesture for him to hand it over, and Hudson walked to the desk and placed it there.
"You took some very interesting pictures," Keres commented. "But they're not on your phone, I bet. Not on your camera, either. Not anymore. And yet, somehow I got my hands on them. You've been keeping things from us, Vegas. Or should I call you John Adam? That is the name you used to sign with us."
"We're in the entertainment business. I bet Angel's real name isn't Angel, either," Hudson said with a shrug. "What pictures are you talking about?"
Keres gave him a long look. "Not the easy to forget kind. I must say, I was impressed from the start. I'm a pretentious man. Very few things appeal to my tastes. But I saw an angel, a real angel, and my heart skipped a beat, as they say in cheap romance novels nowadays."
