Kidnapped 4
By Diana
Author's Notes: I imagine there are quite a lot of Lance fans who are pissed at me at the moment! grin Not to worry, things aren't as they seem... Again, sorry for the delay, but this was honestly the toughest chapter of the story. The upcoming segments will be considerably easier to write. Enjoy!
"What the hell..." Jack Matthews' voice trailed off as he entered the warehouse to find Lance Bass standing over Justin Timberlake's unconscious form.
"Where the fuck were you?!" Lance spat furiously. "He almost escaped!"
Disregarding the teen's anger, Jack quickly dropped to his knees in front of Justin, checking for a pulse. He looked up at Lance, eyes radiating deadly anger. "What did you do to him?!"
"I stopped him from getting away!" the blonde shot back. "You KIDNAPPED him?! Are you out of your fucking mind?!"
"You told me to get rid of him. How else was I supposed to do it?"
"Jesus! You idiot!" Lance ran his hands through his hair. "I didn't say kidnap him! You've got cops on your tail now!"
Jack's eyes widened. "What?"
"The guys know something happened to him. The police found his car, and a rag with chloroform on it. Chris and Joey are helping them piece it together. And sooner or later, the trail's going to lead right to you."
Jack smacked himself in the forehead, cursing angrily. In all the excitement, he'd neglected to take care of Justin's car. He should have remembered that... but his mind just wasn't what it used to be.
Lance paced back and forth, rubbing his neck nervously. "Okay, okay... they don't know it's you yet, so I'll do what I can to throw them off. But you have to get this little shit out of here ASAP." He nudged Justin's foot with his shoe.
"Don't talk about Justin like that." Jack murmured, cradling the unconscious Justin in his lap. "I need more time. He still loves me, I know it... I can make him love me again..."
The teen's jade eyes were steel-cold. "You don't HAVE time, Matthews. I shouldn't even be here... we had a deal. I helped you keep tabs on Justin, you were supposed to get him out of my life."
Jack gently lay Justin down, then rose to his full height. At one time this would have been an imposing sight, but now Lance could barely withhold his laughter.
"You didn't tell me they were married." Jack growled dangerously.
Lance merely smirked. "I thought you liked surprises. Besides, it doesn't really matter. He's going to leave JC for you."
Now it was Jack's turn to smirk, and there was genuinely evil glee in his eyes now. "You'd love that, wouldn't you? Justin conveniently disappears, and his heartbroken little husband runs right into your waiting arms."
Lance froze and spun to face Jack, clearly alarmed. The older man laughed victoriously.
"I knew it!" he crowed. "You're not as good as you think you are, Boss Bass. I can see right through you."
"It's none of your business!" Lance screamed, jabbing a finger in Jack's chest. "You do your part and get him out of here!"
"Maybe I'm starting to like LA?" Jack challenged defiantly. Lance cooled down visibly and pulled out his cellphone, waving it threateningly at his cohort.
"All it takes is one phone call, asshole. One call to the LAPD and you'll spend the rest of your life in a rubber room."
Jack folded his arms. "Go ahead. And when they come to me, I'll tell them everything. I can't be in two places at once: Somebody told me Justin was here, somebody sabotaged Justin's car so I'd be able to find him. You're as guilty as I am."
Lance's expression didn't change in the slightest. "You'll have to prove it. And you can't. Who'll they believe more, Justin's psycho ex or one of his closest buds?"
For a moment the two faced down, glaring at each other angrily. Finally, Jack grumbled an incoherent response, conceding defeat. "Fine. But Justin won't go away with me until he realizes that I'm better than JC."
Lance stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Or maybe that JC is worse than you... you're obviously getting nowhere, so it looks like I'll have to use my backup plan after all."
"Is everything set? We wouldn't want any... unexpected setbacks." The veiled threat in Jack's voice was evident, but Lance ignored it.
"I'll take care of it. By the end of the day, Justin will be on a plane with you to Europe. And this time he won't be coming back." Lance bent over his bandmate and smiled toothily at Justin. "JC's really gonna miss you... but he'll get over it. You've been Jack's bitch from the start. So welcome back to the doghouse." Lance straightened and turned back to Jack. "Tie him up. And make sure he can't get out this time."
"How?" Jack asked.
Lance chuckled, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a pair of metal handcuffs. "Amazing what they sell at novelty stores these days, isn't it?"
"And that's all I know." Joey finished, exhaling deeply. "Not much help, is it?"
Detective Andrews smiled at him in reassurance. "At this point, we need all the information we can get." Glancing at the desk on the other side of the room, he saw that Chris and Detective Collins were heading their way. Collins didn't look hopeful.
Chris dropped into a chair next to Joey while Andrew rose to meet his partner. The detectives stayed out of earshot, and Joey turned to Chris expectantly. All the older bandmate could do was shrug helplessly.
"They asked me who would want to kidnap Justin. The only thing I could come up with was some loony fan of ours."
"Like the fan who dedicated that song to Justin last night?" Joey whispered with a start. He had completely forgotten that.
Before Chris could reply, the detectives returned. "We've got a lead." Andrews announced. "We pulled your friend's cellphone records. He made two calls this morning... The first was to the Holiday Inn, but the clerk insists she hadn't heard from him. She DID say somebody called and said his car broke down, but he didn't give his name."
The two members of N'Sync looked at each other for a moment. Justin had called the front desk and not them. Had such a trivial choice sealed his fate?
"She says she gave him the number of a tow truck company. That's the next and last number he dialed." Collins finished. "So that's where we're going next."
Chris looked at Joey again, then they both rose to their feet.
"So let's go." Chris said.
Lance was doing his best not to panic. Which, considering the circumstances, was near-impossible. He was starting to wish he had an addiction he could give in to, to calm him down. But smoking made him gag, drinking made him nauseous and prozac made him hyperactive.
He couldn't believe things had gone so insanely out of control. It had seemed so easy at first: All he had to do was reunite Justin with his ex-boyfriend and they'd run off together in a heartbeat. Justin was a worthless, cheating piece of trash: After all, he had fucked JC while still with Jack. Sooner or later, Lance knew his bandmate would cheat on his husband as well. And JC didn't deserve that. JC didn't deserve to be hurt like that.
So immediately after the wedding, Lance flew to Orlando. It took him a few days, but he was able to track down Jack Matthews. At first Lance had been reluctant to turn to him, remembering the horrific tales Justin had told about his abusive lover.
But after meeting the man in person and talking to him, everything clicked into a single, stunning truth. Justin had made it all up. It was so fucking perfect: What better way to fall into JC's arms than victimizing himself? JC was so used to being his best friend's savior that he would rush to the rescue. Right into Justin's manipulative clutches.
This revelation increased Lance's disgust at his bandmate tenfold, and he struck a very simple deal with Jack: Lance would help him find Justin, and in return Jack would make overtures and win his ex back. Everyone would win: JC would be free of his lying, whoring husband, Jack would have his one true love back, and Lance would finally, finally have the chance he'd been denied for so long...
It was so unfair, so goddamned ironic. Lance had had a crush on JC for years, almost from the day he joined N'Sync. JC was funny, romantic, handsome and compassionate, and Lance had fallen hard. He'd fought his feelings for a long, long time, until finally one day Lance realized that he had to tell JC the truth, for himself if nothing else.
And on that day, the day he'd mustered all his courage and prepared to announce his undying love for JC, Justin beat him to it, quitting the band to be with Jack Matthews. Had Lance been a little faster, a little braver, HE would be with JC now.
Lance had lost his only chance for happiness. Justin had TAKEN it away from him. And now, finally, after all the months of pain and hatred, Lance was going to return the favor.
Grasping the knob firmly, Lance took a deep breath and opened the door to JC's room.
The sound of the shower running was immediately audible, and the blonde exhaled in relief. There was still time. Quietly moving towards the TV, Lance knelt and reached his hand into the crevice between the TV and the desk. His fingers brushed against a small metal object, and he smiled, pulling it out.
Raising the handheld camera to the light, Lance frowned. He'd bought it a few years ago, but had never had a real use for it until now. He had slipped the camera in last night while everyone was getting drunk, and then shut it off the next morning just before the police arrived.
It had definitely recorded something last night; more than half of the three-hour tape was used. He wasn't sure what was on it... he wasn't even sure what he was doing with it. It just seemed like a good idea at the time.
The water abruptly stopped running, and Lance froze. JC had finished his shower. Hands trembling, Lance pressed the record button and dropped the camera back in its hiding place, making sure the lens was pointing directly at the bed.
The bathroom door opened, steam billowing out as JC stepped out, running his hands through his wet hair. A hot shower had been just the thing he needed to relax; he could finally hear himself think over the shrieks of panic constantly ringing in his ears.
The teen headed for the clothes he'd laid out on the mattress, when a sudden "Hey" caused him to turn around. JC did a double-take at the sight before him, almost tripping over his own feet.
Leaning against the other side of the bathroom door, down to his briefs, was Lance Bass, smiling at JC casually.
"L-Lance?" JC stammered. "What are you..."
Lance's smile didn't waver as he slowly approached his bandmate. "I did a really stupid thing, JC." he said in a low voice. "See, there's this guy... he's just amazing. The best friend anyone could want. And I really like him. There's just one problem." Lance came closer and touched a finger to JC's heaving chest, gently running it down his stomach. Their eyes met.
"He's married." Lance whispered, and JC felt shock wash over him like a bucket of ice water. They stood there for an endless moment, and Lance leaned in, trying to kiss JC. The older teen pushed Lance away gently, but Lance ducked in yet again, aggressively, angrily. JC shoved his friend again, and this time he put some muscle into it. The blonde lost his balance and toppled onto the bed.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" JC shouted angrily.
Lance drew himself up onto his knees, practically growling, eyes burning with lustful flames. "What's the matter, JC? You can't tell me I don't turn you on. Your towel isn't that big."
Alarmed, JC looked down and realized, to his mortification, that he was indeed sporting an erection. It was poking out from under the towel, and Lance was practically drooling at the sight.
"Doesn't mean anything." JC shot back, covering up his exposed manhood. "It's easy to give me a stiffy. Ask Justin."
Lance's face twisted in rage. "Fuck Justin!"
JC smirked. "I have."
That struck a nerve, and Lance's composure cracked, deep hurt flashing in his emerald eyes. JC immediately regretted opening his mouth. He wasn't dealing with this situation correctly.
"I'm... Lance, I'm sorry..." the older teen began, reaching out for his friend.
"Don't touch me." Lance whimpered. "It's not fair... It's not supposed to be like this..."
"Lance..." JC climbed onto the bed and rested a hand on Lance's bare shoulder. Idly, he wondered when Lance had gotten so buff. He used to be a scrawny kid, but between then and now, he had changed. He had grown up. His chest and stomach were clearly defined, though not overly muscled. A wispy trail of blond hair led from Lance's navel downward...
The blonde could feel JC's scrutiny, and smiled. Twisting himself around, Lance tackled JC, kissing him forcefully as they fell onto the mattress. Lance slid a hand under JC's towel as he tried to slide his tongue into JC's mouth.
Roaring in outrage, JC threw Lance off him. The younger teen rolled off the bed, hitting his head on the nightstand. The thump was clearly audible, but JC didn't pause to check on his bandmate. Grabbing his clothes and wallet, he fled the room.
A few minutes passed, and Lance finally stirred, rubbing his head and letting out a string of curses that would have made Joey or AJ McLean blush. His gaze turned towards the camera. The red light was on; it had recorded the entire event. Not that that would be of any use. Nothing had happened. The only person JC would ever willingly sleep with was...
Lance's eyes widened considerably. "Holy shit..." he murmured. He was getting an idea. It was a long shot, a REALLY long shot, but if it worked...
The teen couldn't help a quick laugh. "Fine!" he screamed at the door JC had just walked through. "I don't need you!" He stumbled towards the camera and picked it up.
"I've got everything I need right here."
Broken, fragmented memories swirled around before his eyes, swallowing him in a maelstrom of sights and sounds. He remembered the photo booth at the mall, on one of their first dates. He'd sat in his lover's lap, and they smiled together as the screen flashed. He'd turned his head at one point, and they had started making out right there and then, hands tearing at each other's clothes as they were consumed by their passion. They had stopped upon realizing the pictures were already being developed, but it had taken quite a while for them to regain their breath (and tame their raging hormones).
A song came to him next. He couldn't remember what it meant, where he'd heard it... it was everything and nothing at the same time.
"I thought that we would just be friends
Things will never be the same again
It's just the beginning it's not the end
Things will never be the same again
It's not a secret anymore
Now we've opened up the door
Starting tonight and from now on
We'll never, never be the same again..."
The music faded away, and all was silent but for the distant roar of the Niagara Falls. They were lying awake in bed, not yet ready to consummate their union. Something remained unspoken between them, doubts and insecurities that were buried but not gone.
Finally, he had spoken. "Are you sure you want to do this?"
"Of course. Why wouldn't I?"
"It's just... I like guys. It's going to be like that for the rest of my life. But you still have a chance to be normal. To have a normal life."
His partner had frowned slightly, as though insulted. "'Normal life'?"
"You know... settle down with a wife, have kids... oh God, Josh, I know how much you want children... I can't give you that. If we go through with this and someone finds out, we'll be freaks. Our careers, our lives... it'll all be at stake." He had paused for a moment, choking on a lump in his throat. "I don't want you to wake up one day and wonder if this was worth the sacrifice."
Seconds ticked by, each feeling like a century of torture. Then...
"Maybe you're right." his lover had replied. His voice was steady and unwavering. "If I'm with you, I'm putting my professional career at risk." A hand touched his chin, moving down to lovingly stroke his chest. "But you know what? I'll take that chance. Because I know for a fact that I'll never really be happy unless I'm with you."
Tears of happiness had rolled down his cheeks, and with the last obstacle between them gone, they fell into each other's arms, making love until sunrise.
Something was telling him to wake up. He ignored it. If he woke up, he would be real again, he would be hurt again, and there had been peace, finally, in the darkness.
But there was peace in the light as well. He knew it, he had felt it in the arms of his true love. And he would return to those arms, to that peace. Even if it killed him.
He opened his eyes and shifted slightly, trying to stop the throbbing in his head. But his hands would not move; all that registered was a clink, metal against metal. As his eyes focused, he groaned in dismay as he realized his predicament.
He'd been propped up against a radiator affixed to the wall. It was cold, probably hadn't been used in years. His hands had been drawn behind his back and handcuffed around one of the pipes.
Justin cursed in frustration. He had come so close to being free... and something had stopped him. SOMEONE had stopped him. He had opened the door, and... and... who had been there? Jack? The blonde tried to concentrate, but all he could remember was the sudden glare of sunlight in his eyes. He couldn't make out his attacker's face.
"Oh good, you're awake." Jack came into view, crouching so he could meet Justin's dim blue gaze. "How do you feel? You've got some nasty bruises."
"You've given me worse." Justin retorted. "So what's next? You're gonna beat me up some more?"
"Why would I want to do that?" the black-haired menace asked pleasantly.
"Because you know I'll never go back to you. Because I'm not afraid of you." Justin tried to get to his feet, but a shard of pain cut through his upper arm and he leaned back against the radiator helplessly.
Jack sneered at him. "Not afraid, huh?" He moved forward, climbing atop Justin's left leg. Justin's breath caught in his throat as Jack grabbed his ex-boyfriend's shirt collar and pulled hard. Despite his wiry frame, he still had much of his strength, and almost effortlessly tore the T-shirt in half, ripping it down its front and revealing Justin's chest and stomach.
The older man purred possessively, hands gently kneading the lean form. Justin tried to escape his touch, but there was nowhere to go. That look in Jack's eyes... he had seen it only once before, right before Jack threw him onto the floor and... and...
Horrific revelation flooded him as he realized that Jack's hands were moving down towards his belt. No. Not again. Justin's consciousness dissolved into primal fear and he flailed uselessly, screaming in anger. He would not let Jack rape him again, never again...
"Are you scared yet?" Jack taunted, removing Justin's belt and undoing the top button. The teen was sobbing, shrieking, indescribable fear pounding through his young body. He could take anything but this, would endure any punishment except this horrible, horrible violation. Had his hands been free, he would just reach up and break Jack's neck; yes, he would rather take a life than allow himself to be a victim again. He would rather die himself.
"Please... NO!!!" the blonde screamed, not understanding what he had done to deserve this, why God or Fate or whatever was being so inhumanly cruel to him. He shut his eyes; at least he wouldn't have to SEE it happen...
And suddenly the pressure was gone. Justin opened his eyes and saw Jack standing a good distance away, a cellphone pressed against his ear. Justin's mouth dropped open in surprise; had it all been a dream? But no, Jack's clothes were disheveled and his face was red. It had happened.
Justin felt himself sag, all the panicked strength leaving his body. He watched in deep relief as Jack grew more agitated as he shouted into the phone. Justin's eyes narrowed: Jack had said he could barely afford "No Strings Attached", yet he had a cellphone.
But the teen couldn't dwell on that, as Jack quickly finished his conversation and dropped the phone into his pocket.
"I'll be right back." he growled. "Don't go anywhere."
Just like that, he left. Justin gasped for breath, distantly wondering how much more he'd be able to take.
"Well? Let's hear it!" Jack demanded as he shut the warehouse door behind him. Lance turned to him, pocketing his own cellphone.
"It didn't exactly go as planned." The green-eyed teen checked his watch and frowned. "I have to go. Here." He handed Jack a small video cassette and a piece of paper. "You'll figure it out."
Jack nodded, placing the items in his shirt pocket. As he turned to go, Lance grabbed his arm.
"You okay?" he asked, taking in Jack's disoriented state.
"Fine." the older man replied flatly.
Lance felt his blood go cold. "You're not... really hurting him, are you?" he asked, unable to shake the notion. "You said he made that up!"
"Of course he did!" Jack replied. "And even if I WAS smacking him around a little, what do you care? You hate him!"
"I don't HATE him..." Lance ran a hand through his spiky blond hair. "Just... stay calm, okay? Everything's fine."
"I know that!" Jack snapped. "You deal with JC. I'll take care of Justin." With that, he ducked back into the shadows of the warehouse and slammed the door shut after him.
Lance felt his knees tremble slightly. It couldn't be. Justin had lied about being abused to get JC in the sack.
But the bruises... Lance remembered those nights when Justin would show up with marks on his face. He had always had a perfectly good excuse, but what if... what if...
No, that was impossible. Jack was crazy, but he loved Justin more than life itself. Sure, he had a bad temper, but... but...
The shivering spread, and soon Lance's entire body had begun to quake as he headed back to his car. What had he done?
What was he going to do?
To be continued...