Page 6 of Aftermath

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?"

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.

Cam did the same, and 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'd become 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.

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