Saving Him (bxb)

1

*Alex's P.O.V.*

"Hey!" I screamed, pushing open my front door again as it was slammed in my face by my roommate.
"Piss off, Alexander!" My roommate, Randy, said as he stormed down the driveway to his beat up white truck. I grabbed his arm forcefully, yanking him back. "No! You always go out during the nights and come back in the morning stoned and hungover, and short on cash. Our cash, Randy," I said. He ripped his arm out of my grasp. "It's none of your business, man."
I scoffed, "yeah, well your business has been my business for three months now, considering I've been covering your half of the rent."
"And what do you think I've been out trying to do? Get money."
"Gambling isn't-!" I was cut off when Randy simply jumped in his truck, starting it and pulling out. I had to jump back to ensure he wouldn't hit me.
Basically, Randy was a lazy druggie who had lived with me for about a year now. We'd been in college together, and moved off campus and into an old, crappy house close by, each paying half of rent. Well, he used to pay his half.
I ran a hand through my light brown hair, sighing. His gambling addiction was absolutely ridiculous. I was surprised he could pay for gas.
My phone started to buzz and I fished it out of my pocket, answering it without seeing who it was, angrily assuming it was Randy.
"Randy, when you get back here I swear to Go-!"
"A-Alex?" Came the startled voice of my mother. "Oh... Hey, mom..."
"Hi, honey... I was just calling to see how you were, I hope it isn't too late to be calling," she said. I shook my head, then remembered she couldn't see me and cleared my throat. "No, no, not at all. What's up?" I said, turning to walk back into the house.
"Well, I was going through some of your old boxes from your room... I had to clear some out because your uncle is staying at our house for the weekend, but uh I went through a couple when I was moving them and I saw some of the most adorable pictures of you!"
"Mom..." I groaned, "I'm 22... Please stop," I laughed. She chuckled, then sighed. "I found you and Luke's scrapbook..." She said softly. I tensed, trying not to remember the curly blonde headed boy and failing. "That's... That's cool mom," I said. She sighed, "Baby, you two were so close, I just wanna understand what happ-"
"Mom, I told you, we just drifted. It's not anything super abnormal." Assuming that death threats from your abusive father doesn't count as abnormal.
"I suppose that's true... He was just so sweet and caring and you two would've made such a cute-"
"Oookay, mom, I gotta go I'll talk to you later, bye," I said quickly, hanging up the phone. Luke was the last person I wanted to think about right now. After the night he got kicked out when we were 15, I never found out where he stayed. Or where he went after high school. I had guessed that either his father let him back in or he'd gone to stay with someone equally abusive, considering he still had slightly visible bruises and cuts and once I caught him in the bathroom with blood seeping through his old worn shirt; his father was always fond of belts and punishment.
Looking back, it was honestly a situation that should have made us closer. I could've helped him, even. But I was a dumbass teenager and dumbass teenagers never do the right things. I told him I'd always be there for him then bolted when things got hard.
I shook my head, snapping back to reality as I tried to shake away the memories. It didn't work.
I grabbed a beer off the counter, along with the bottle opener, and flopped down on the couch. Dammit.
I sat in silence for a few moments, then just said fuck it and started doing what I did best.
Stress cleaning.
I ended up spending hours cleaning, and pretty soon the whole house was spotless aside from Randy's room. I opened the door to his horrific room. It looked like someone held a KKK rally in here. You couldn't even see the floor.
I began organizing random shit I found on the floor, and as I picked up yet another wadded up towel, a leather bound book with colorful tabs fell out of it.
It was fairly small, like a pocket book, and it was closed by a leather string.
I carefully unwrapped the string, opening it to the latest tab.
The date was last night and there was numerous charts and random math equations on there. It looked like some form of accounting strategy or whatever. Until I actually got to the entry.
Seventh attempt at a bidding- December/January bids:
$40,000
$36,000
$55,500
Male to female ratio: 5:1
All slaves between ages 17 and 25 most under age of 20
I felt my hands start to shake. Slaves... Bidding... Holy shit.
I gripped the book, sprinting out of his messy room and into the living room, grabbing my keys and phone.
I ran out to my gray 1997 Four Runner, jumping in and praying it wouldn't have trouble starting. I leafed through the pages to see if Randy was dumb enough to write the address or name of this club in the here. Sure enough, he was stupid enough to write both.
I typed it into my phone and a little place on the edge of town popped up. If he was doing what I think he's doing, I'm calling the police. And they better bring body bags with them.
About thirty minutes and twelve potential red light tickets later, I arrived at a rundown warehouse looking building. It looked like the perfect place to stab someone to death and leave them there without anyone even noticing. Great.
I parked next to what looked a lot like Randy's truck and got out. I walked up to the door where a large bald man stood, his arms crossed as he blocked the door. "ID, please."
I reluctantly fished my ID out of my wallet and held it up. The man stepped aside and I pushed the door open and was immediately hit with the smell of cigarette smoke, marijuana, alcohol, and sex.
But it was nearly empty and quiet... Which was weird for a club. The lights were dim, which I expected. A scrawny dude who couldn't have been older than me in a waiter's outfit rushed up to me, "The auction is starting! Here's your number, and it's open seating. First three rows of tables is VIP though." The guy handed me a slip of paper and ushered me through the club room and to a door in the back, opening it for me. I almost threw up when I saw inside.
Rows of tables were lined up, each with a small lamp on it and four leather chairs around them. Most of them were already filled but there couldn't have been any more than 50 or 60 people here, and they were all talking quietly. I spotted my read headed roommate almost immediately, and stormed over. "Randy, what the hell?!?" I hissed and he jumped, clutching his chest, "Oh my God...!" His eyes widened when he saw me. "Alex, you can't be here!"
"Is this your way of making money?! Selling kids?!"
"All of these people are legal," Randy muttered, his grip tightening on a glass of alcohol he was holding. "No. You're coming home and you're explaining to me what the hell this is."
"Well you're about to find out for yourself," he said and I was about to protest before the lights shut off, the only lighting coming from the individual lamps on the tables. "What-"
"Shut up."
I swore quietly when Randy grabbed my arm and yanked me down. Taking the hint, I sat down in the seat next to him, holding my breath.
The stage lights came on, and a skinny young man who had to have been on drugs was holding the microphone. He looked malnourished and was swaying slightly, almost as if in a trance.
"Hello, folks!" His voice cracked making me wince. "Sadly I'm not up for sale tonight!" He laughed but I couldn't tell if he was joking or not. "Anywhosies... We've got a fantabulous selection for you tonight! You're gonna love em, I swear," he slurred. "Let's start! First piece doesn't really have a name that anyone can remember... I guess you can call him whatever, nobody'll care either way... But he's a fine little thing, 19, very submissive, no scars besides one piercing on his right ear. He's got black hair with blue eyes for those who are into that, and he isn't a virgin but he's a freak in the sheets lemme just say! Now, bidding starts at $40,000."
Sure enough, the boy was led on stage and he also looked underfed and unhealthy. He kept his head down and had a thick leather dog collar on.
Around us, people jumped up screaming out amounts, until it settled on a man who offered $75,000. I closed my eyes and clenched my fists as the boy was dragged offstage.
I stood up. "I can't take this anymore. I'm going home. If you're smart you won't come back and if you're lucky I won't call the cops-"
"Our next piece is a 22 year old male called Luke Cramer, not that you have to call him that! He has a lot of scars and burns, mostly on his chest and back, but his most prominent scar is one behind his head but is mostly covered by his naturally platinum blonde hair. He has extremely dark eyes, and he's a virgin, so you know... More fun for y'all," the auctioneer said. I felt my blood run cold as my head snapped to the stage. "Bidding starts at $60,000!"
My chest felt tight. I couldn't breathe, I felt my knees buckle as I fell back into the leather chair when I saw him, my best friend, led on stage roughly, being dragged by a collar identical to the one on the last man.
"$80,000!" I screamed without thinking. Randy's eyes snapped to me. "What are you doing?!"
More bids were yelled and I grimaced as an old man who couldn't have been any younger than 70 called out $100,000.
"$100,000! Anyone $110,000? No? Going once..."
"$150,000!" I screeched and the room went silent. "Uh... Anybody higher?"
The silence remained.
"$150,000 going once... Going twice... Sold!"
I stood up and raced to the side of the stage up front as Luke was dragged off stage. He wasn't wearing any clothes. I fished the crumpled bidding number I was given out of my pocket quickly.
The man holding him threw him into my arms and I barely caught him. He looked unbelievably malnourished and on the brink of death. He was barely conscious.
The man shoved a clipboard and a pen in my face. "Sign on the dotted lines initial on the solid lines. Write your bid number at the top please." I struggled to hold Luke up with one arm and sign with the other. I glanced down at the crumpled slip of paper that I still held tightly in my hand. Number 84.
"Okay, cash, check, or card."
Again I attempted to get my checkbook out of my pocket and hastily made it out to the club.
The man smiled, "Enjoy your prize, Sir."
I wrapped one of Luke's arms around my shoulder and put my other arm around his waist, holding him up.
Oh my God, I just bought a person.
Not just any person... But my abused childhood friend. My abused childhood friend who I was positive I would never see again.
We hobbled over back to the table and Randy stared at me, wide eyed. "Alex..."
"Don't you dare. Don't say a word, you hear me?" I said, my voice strained. "I am going home. And Luke is staying with us."
Randy just continued to stare as yelling broke out again over another "item".
I tried to get Luke out as painlessly and quickly as possible and soon enough we were outside and in front of my car.
"Luke, can you hear me?"
"Y...yes Sir..." He said quietly. He sounded parched.
"No, no, no." I placed my hands on either side of his face, staring into his dark brown, almost black eyes. "I'm not a Sir, Luke... Do you remember me?" I asked urgently.
He swallowed hard, and he shook his head, "I don't... I don't... I'm not..."
He stumbled around with his words for a few moments and I let him take his time, and took the opportunity to look at how he'd changed since I'd last seen him senior year. He still had that beauty mark under his right eye on his cheek and his wavy curly white-blonde hair was a mess and went in every which way. You could see his ribs and it finally hit me; he didn't have any fucking clothes on. I swore, quickly taking off my tshirt and slipping it over his head. It was big on him and covered his privates at least. He gripped the shirt tightly and tried to snuggle into it more, and I opened the passenger door to my car, lifting him up and setting him in, buckling him. It almost felt like I was taking care of a child.
I rushed around to the drivers side, getting in. As I sat there, shirtless and baffled by the whole night, I looked over at Luke. It was definitely him.
"Luke. Do you know who I am?" I asked.
"M-my Master...?" He guessed. I shook my head. "No. You don't recognize me?" I asked gently. He looked over at me, staring hard. "You... A... Alex?!" He gasped, his eyes widening in recognition.
I nodded, "Yeah, it's me..." Shit what was I supposed to say to him after he knew it was me?
Options:
1) Hey, so, sorry I totally ditched you when you really needed me
2) Hey old best friend that I totally dropped and haven't talked to in seven years
3) Hey, Luke, guy who's situation that you couldn't control I made about 1,000x worse because I was your only friend and I left you.
4) Hey GUY I JUST BOUGHT
I sighed.
What the hell am I doing...

First chapter done! Don't judge me for how quickly everything escalated I totally suck at introductions and kicking things off...
Anywhosies I hope you liked it 💝