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"I do whatever Boss Man want."
I take Nico's hands in mine, our knees practically touching. This boy may remind me of Porter now, while he needs protection and support, but the real, unbroken Nico is tough and independent. I know he can do this.
"Close your eyes and listen to my voice. The translator is here so speak whatever language you want. Remember back to that moment."
His eyes close, his fingers clench around mine, and a pained look crosses his face.
"You are in that hotel room with the three men. You can't move, you can’t breathe. It's cold and the rope is hurting you. But you are strong. You know you saved Gavriil. You know the camera was recording. You know you are family, and we are coming. You know that. It is a certainty. You know you just have to keep silent for a little longer, but they keep asking. What are they asking Nico? Do you hear them?"
From the way Nico is shaking, I know he has let his mind slip back into the hell we rescued him from.
"That's it, Nico. You can feel the rope, can’t you?" My words aren't to push him, but to remind him that I'm here with him. "What are they saying? Tell me the words."
"Car. It turns. And turns. And the bridge. To the bar and stood in sun. He is man called Rich." Nico's words are barely a whisper, but they are English. He's hearing the English words in his mind and repeating them. "Car. Turn. Turn. Bridge. Bar. Stood. Suns. Rich. Man."
He repeats them over and over, just the words, not the sentences they form. He is doing his best, remembering something he tried not to hear and wanted to forget.
"Good, Nico. Very good. Now stay silent. Don't answer them. We are coming. We'll save you. You are family. Can you feel my hands, Nico? We are here. Can you feel my hands?"
His hands squeeze mine as I gently bring him back from his nightmare ordeal. Again.
"I've got you, Nico. I'm going to look after you. Just like always. You're home. Look up and see. I've brought you to my home to care for you. You are a brave man, and this is a great honour. Look up Nico."
The boy mutters something. I look at the translator, but she shakes her head.
"Nico, look at me."
His head lifts, his eyes wet with tears. "It is not strong to cry."
"Maybe for men like them," Porter jumps in. "Strength is different in people like us. We don't need muscles and guns as a show of power because we have it inside. If they cry, it cracks their image. But if we cry, it's showing our natural strength inside."
"That is big load of bollocks," Nico laughs at my boy, in that ugly crying way that has Porter laughing and crying with him.
"We're going to need more muffins," I eye roll the pair of them.
"Right boys, I'm going to leave you in Gladys' capable hands. Porter, look after Nico for me. I'm going to question a couple of gentlemen we have staying."
"Please. Is it OK, I need to go home for things. Everyone needs things."
"Bring all your things, Nico. Freddie will drive you when you are ready."
"Car. It turns. And turns. And the bridge. To the bar and stood in sun. He is man called Rich." Caeo repeats his notes word for word as he wrote it, following me out of the house. "Then it changed to just words. Car. Turn. Turn. Bridge. Bar. Stood. Suns. Rich. Man."
"We focus on the words," I instruct. My eyes glance back at the house as I climb into the car. I want to stay with them both, and scare away their monsters, but that is not my role. Together they can fight the monsters, while I destroy the bad men.
"The words are what he heard, as he heard them, rather than trying to put them in a sentence."
All he heard were the main words, he wasn't trying to listen at the time. Luckily, we just need enough to question our two suspects into revealing the real questions.
Chapter thirty
Porter
Freddiepullsupbythe abandoned warehouse. I can just see the corner of the building Edward brought me to after I stabbed Vince. A warehouse graveyard is perfect for mafia interrogations, not for a home.
"I'll wait in the car, shall I?" Freddie mutters, like his only reason for remaining here is to stay clean.
Nico climbs out and walks slowly to the side of the building. The junk piled up makes it hard to get down the side, but Nico knows where to stand, and I follow his lead. I'd guess he made the mess here by piling junk around his route to deter others, rather than working out a way through the mess.
