Jordan shook visibly in the passenger’s seat of the old blue Chevy pick-up as James Knight drove toward the house in which Jordan had been held captive for the past six months. James had dragged Jordan to the store in order to keep up the occasional appearance so the neighbors didn’t get suspicious. The story being that he was home schooled due to his extreme social awkwardness.
James did not worry too much about anyone recognizing Jordan due to his recent growth spurt. His facial features were more refined and developed, while his once awkward limbs were now graceful and slender. Not to mention, Jordan had grown to be slightly taller than Drew. James would have feared Jordan’s new size had he not been working diligently to break Jordan’s sprit. He figured the more frightened and broken Jordan was the less chance there was of him revolting. His theory had proved correct, especially since he held the lives of Drew and Jane over Jordan's head.
Jordan was always terrified on days they went into public. Something always went wrong, and he was blamed. Last time someone noticed his red roots. After James made Jordan re-bleach his hair, James proceeded to beat him before locking him the cellar for three days without food, water, or access to a bathroom. Today they were at the checkout of the local market when his left contact fell out, exposing his bright green iris to the cashier.
The cashier had asked James why he let his son cover up such beautiful green eyes, ignorant of the grief it would cause Jordan later. They pulled into the gravel driveway. James shut off the truck and began to take the items they had bought into the small house. Slowly, Jordan walked up the old wooden stairs that creaked with every step, and entered through the green shabby screen door. He closed the door quietly behind him as he tried to keep his trembling to a minimum.
The living room had only a worn maroon recliner, an ash tray, and a television set. The nicotine-stained floral wallpaper had begun to peel off the cracked wall, and the grey carpeted floor looked half rotted out. Silently shaking, Jordan stood in the middle of the living room wondering what James would use to torture him this time.
James was very creative in his methods. The first time he had enacted one of these punishments he had restrained Jordan to the bed completely naked and used nail clippers to cut his torso in various places. When he was finished clipping his skin he then poured rubbing alcohol on the wounds. Even though Jordan was gagged, his screams still echoed throughout the house.
“Get in this kitchen now,” James said in a deadly cold voice.
James stood facing him with his arms crossed and a frown etched on his face. Jordan looked into his sickly fake blue eyes. James had made it a point to drastically alter his own appearance. He had a nose job, bleached his hair, and gained an excess of over fifty pounds.
Jordan wrapped his arms around himself and prepared for what he knew was about to come.
“You little bastard! You took that contact out in hopes that the cashier would get suspicious didn’t you!” James yelled.
“No, Sir. It fell out on accident. I promise,” Jordan pleaded quietly as tears spilled over and flowed down his cheeks.
“Liar!” He stomped over and backhanded Jordan knocking him to the ground. “If you ever do something like that again you can kiss that mother of yours goodbye!”
“Please don’t hurt her,” Jordan begged as he scramble back to his feet. “It was an accident. Please!”
More tears leaked from Jordan’s eyes before he felt a fist slam into his gut. Gasping for breath, Jordan fell to his knees in pain and nausea. He had no more than coughed before James landed a kick to his ribs. Rolling to his side Jordan assumed the fetal position in hopes of protecting himself. James quickly grabbed a pizza cutter from the shabby drawer under the rusting sink. Smiling, he ripped Jordan’s light blue T-shirt from his frail and neglected body.
Jordan caught a glimpse of the too often used weapon and struggled to escape James’ grasp.
“Stay still or Drew will get a nice little surprise when he starts that piece of junk car of his tomorrow,” James threatened.
Defeated, Jordan stopped struggling and prepared for the pain he was about to endure. Sobs wracked his body as he felt the sharp blade roll across his shoulder and open a previous wound. With a laugh at Jordan’s agony, James jerked off the black jeans the sheltered Jordan’s scarred legs. Jordan bit his tongue until he could taste a coppery liquid, knowing his screams would only provoke James more, filling his mouth as the blade rolled painfully down his left thigh.
James continued to make small little cuts over Jordan’s back with his frequently sharpened kitchen utensil before tossing it into the sink. With a smile, he grabbed the salt canister and poured a hefty amount into his hand before letting it fall into the open wounds on Jordan’s back.
Jordan screamed out in agony as he instinctively tried to escape the room. James violently kicked Jordan in the ribs again and knocked him against the fridge. Jordan moaned loudly knowing the kick had broken some ribs. James, having had his fill of fun for the moment swung open the basement door and Jordan quickly dove for it, catching his balance on the splintered door frame before nearly tripping down the stairs. Darkness enveloped the room with a slam as Jordan found his way to the far corner of the cold, foul smelling, and empty concrete room. Silently sobbing on the ice like floor with his wounds burning like fire, he wished for death.
James was not concerned with killing Jordan or even keeping him longer than needed. He only wanted to torture the one who ripped his comfortable life away from him. Knowing that Drew would have killed him in his efforts, Jordan was his next best choice. His plan was to torture Jordan to the point of insanity, and only after he knew there was no hope for Jordan to normally function again, James would leave him at their door step before taking Jane and then Luke.
As Jordan laid suffering on the basement floor, James cracked open a beer and sat down in front of the television. A half case of beer later, James heard several car doors slam. He quickly grabbed his revolver from the end table and made a drunken dash for the basement.
Hearing James bound down the stairs, Jordan tried to move back into the corner as much as possible. Violently, James yanked him up in front of him and held the revolver to his head. Jordan had a brief moment of relief and then realized everything was all wrong. James would not hold him in front of him. He would not back himself into the corner. That was when Jordan heard his salvation raiding the house.
Three men bounded down the basement steps in thick black uniforms with very large guns. For the first time in months Jordan felt an inkling of hope fill his body. Hope that he would see Jane and Drew, hope he would escape James’ torture, and hope that he could once again live a normal life.
As the men entered the basement, the stench hit them in the face. The odor was positively nauseating and the men had to struggle not to gag. They caught sight of Jordan and James in the far corner. Jordan was only in a ratty pair of boxers, and he was covered in blood. His ribs were dangerously exposed, and he was scarred and bruised all over except for his arms, neck and face.
“Release the boy, Knight!” yelled Detective Bays, who stood in front.
“Put down your guns or I blow his brains out right here!” James yelled back as he pressed the sliver barrel of the gun closer to Jordan’s temple.
Jordan was shaking uncontrollably and his face was contorted with pain. His eyes bored into Detective Bays’, pleading for help.
“We have you surrounded, Knight, just let the kid go, and the prosecution will cut you a deal.”
“Fuck a deal, revenge is much sweeter. Now put down your weapons or his brain is wall art!”
“Why do you want Jordan? Why torture him?” Detective Bays asked, stalling for time.
James exhaled in an annoyed manner. “I want Drew to suffer! What better way than to take everything he cares about away?”
“The fight is between you and Drew not you and Jordan. Let the boy go, let him live James.”
James laughed, “You really think I am going to fall for this shit? Stop trying to talk me down. I’m either getting out of here with him or I am going to kill him.”
Detective Bays thought for a second, and then the light bulb turned on.
“I don’t think you will shoot Jordan. Not now, not here. You want to escape with him so that you can torture Drew. No, I think nothing would satisfy you except taking everything from him, and you can’t do that if you are dead.”
Angry now, James had to figure a way out of his current predicament.
“You may be right, but you may also be wrong. Sadly, you have no idea knowing for sure, and I have six bullets in this gun.”
Detective Bays sighed knowing full well he could be wrong, but he had an idea. In his mind he knew it may cause his dismissal, but he also knew if he let Senator Knight leave with Jordan that it may be the last time they ever see him alive again. He believed it was worth the risk.
“You know I do believe I am right. I think either way you will be displeased with the result. You let Jordan go you walk out of here alive. Kill him we kill you. Either way, you are not walking out of here with that boy.”
James would not let Drew get off with the loss of only one important thing in his life. He wanted him to suffer fully and drastically. He figured that if he wounded Jordan, but only a little, it would provoke the police to put down their weapons and let them leave. Little did he know that was the decision Detective Bays was counting on.
Detective Bays was watching for the move, a twitch, anything. As soon as James began to lower the gun to Jordan’s shoulder, Detective Bays' took his shot. The bullet hit him just above his right eyebrow. His blood and brains splattered, covering Jordan and the surrounding area. Both James and Jordan fell to the ground, but Jordan immediately scrambled toward the police.
“Get the medics down here now!” yelled Detective Bays.
He bent down to Jordan’s level and used his gloves to wipe some of the remnants of James off of Jordan’s face. Jordan was still shaking and had progressed to full on hysterics.
“Jordan, my name is Detective Bays, and we are going to get you back to your family,” he said placing a hand on Jordan’s shoulder.
At that point Jordan collapsed. Between his lack of nutrients, loss of blood, and state of shock, he simply could no longer function. As he collapsed, the medics arrived. They quickly worked over him to make sure he was in no danger of dying.
As they loaded him into the ambulance, Detective Bays talked to the head EMTs.
“How is he?” he asked.
A young woman in her late twenties, with dull brown hair and murky green eyes, smiled wearily at him before answering. “He has lost a fair amount of blood, has four broken ribs, all of his open wounds were filled with salt, and honestly he is in horrible condition, but things could be worse. None of his broken ribs are in danger of puncturing his lungs, and his blood loss is not severe enough for a transfusion. He needs to be hydrated, his wounds need to be cleaned, and he needs to begin gaining weight as soon as possible.”
“So he is safe for an immediate transfer once these things are taken care of?”
“When he is stable enough to be transferred I want him flown directly to Clearstone Medical Hospital to be place under the care of Ben McGowan,” said Detective Bays.
The EMT nodded, and soon after the ambulance was headed toward the hospital with a safe Jordan Knight. Despite the possible consequences he faced for his methods, he could rest happy knowing that Jordan would soon be reunited with his family.