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"Yeah," Travis grumbles, his mood back to being shitty. "Will do. Thanks, man."
After nearly 8 hours - interrupted by lunch, a frustrated session in the gym, a call from Carter babbling excitedly about a class project while walking to work, and a liquid dinner consisting of scotch - someone knocks on Travis's door. Travis continues reading an operation note of Ronan's about a couple he met last year at one of his parties, but manages to call for the person to come in. After so many years together, he knows it's Jake - the man knocks the same every damn time. He holds a finger up just like he used to, indicating he needs to finish. He just wants to see if Ronan ever mentions them preferring - yes. There it is. A sentence dripping with hatred about them preferring young boys. Travis puts a check beside their name and finally looks up at Jake. "Sorry - hey."
"Hey." Jake climbs on the bed and steals the paper he just marked. He frowns, running a finger over one of the highlighted names Travis hasn't gotten to yet. "Fucking Highlanders. You remember them?"
"No. You do?"
"They were at a party we went to in the early days. I'll never forget them. You were working on solidifying Swift as a partner, so I was off with his men trying to get a feel for how things were going among his ranks while you schmoozed Swift and his bitchy wife. Highlander was one of his higher ups - him and his wife were bragging about their newest slave. A customer order. They always bought custom, something they were quite proud of."
Travis arches a brow. "What was their taste?"
"Little girls. They were trying to find him a fucking handmaid, basically. A girl who would bear his children because the wife was infertile. And, of course, bear his sadistic side too. She had to be good in the house though. The wife wanted to train her to cook and clean and shit. Basically, they wanted to find him a slave wife. They were picky as fuck. On their 4th girl at the time, if I remember right."
Bile burns in Travis’s throat. "What'd they do with the rejects?"
"Resold them." Jake shakes his head. "They're not who you want, if this is about Elliot."
"It is. I'll make a note. Recognize any others?"
"Not off the top of my head, but I'll look through this all when you're done if you want." He hands the paper back and Travis quickly puts an x by Highlander. Jake sighs. "I hate to say it, but your idea has been sounding better and better."
Travis nods, fully aware. "We'd have Elliot in a matter of days. I know it."
"You really think you could do it?" Jake asks quietly, not a trace of judgment in his voice. "You think you could do the kind of things Mica used to?"
"Yes."
"You didn't even think. At least think it over, Travis. For fuck's sake, you're talking about torturing someone."
Travis lifts his chin, looking his best friend in the eyes. "I've raped the man I love, Jake. I can torture a monster."
Jake swallows hard and looks away. Then he says something completely off topic and so entirely unexpected Travis nearly laughs. "I'm in love with Casey.”
Travis doesn't laugh, though. Because he knows just by listening to the sound of his friend's voice as he says the words that there's nothing funny about this. "I'm sorry, Jake."
And he is sorry. Very fucking sorry. Not just because he was there the night Jake admitted he was afraid to go buy Casey because he was afraid he might grow attached to the boy like Travis did with Carter, but because Travis knows how it feels to love one of these boys beneath the conditions they all are under, and it's fucking terrible.
"Yeah, well…" Jake forces a shaky laugh and shrugs. "What can you do, right? I did my best. But he's… Casey."
"Would it make you feel better if I told you I'm pretty damn sure he loves you too?"
Jake laughs again, and this time the sound is right on the edge of hysterical. "No. No, not at all. Because it's fucking wrong. He doesn't love me. I saved him. It's all wrong in his head, Trav. It's fucking wrong."
"Okay." Travis sighs. "You know what we need to do then?"
"What?"
"First, we're going to send Ace the list of 12 names we have so far so we don't have to feel guilty about not working on Elliot's case for a while."
"And then?" Jake asks, his eyes wide as he clearly waits for something that is going to fix this problem.
Nothing can fix this problem, Travis learned that the hard way, but things can make it easier.
"And then, my friend," Travis says with a sympathetic smile. "We are going to get very, very drunk."
Travis wakes up to someone shaking his shoulder, his mouth tasting like death, his head heavier than… something heavy - give him a fucking break, it hurts to think right now, alright?
“Fuck away,” he grumbles, rolling over and tugging a pillow over his head to protect it from the terrible, terrible world.
