Hostage

Five

Jax Mitchell woke abruptly, eyes flying open and scanning the room frantically. Breathing deeply, he sat up on the old, springy mattress. A cold sweat covered his body, and he looked to his arm where he could still feel the man's strong grip. A tremor ran up his spine thinking of him. But he was used to these night terrors, experiencing them almost every night.

Shaking off the haunting memory, the woken boy stood up from the borrowed bed and walked barefoot across the worn, wood floor to the bathroom. With a twist of the rusty knob, cold water ran from the leaky faucet. He cupped it with his hands and splashed his face with the refreshing liquid. Wiping the his face and the images from his mind, he glanced into the antique mirror above the sink. Dark bags encircled his hazel eyes, and his light brown skin looked dull and tired.

Returning to the bedroom, he searched through his bags for something to wear. Jax had grown used to living out of a suitcase; they never stayed in one place too long. Settling on a pair of dark jeans,a tight grey t-shirt, and combat boots, he headed down the creaky stairs.

"Jax, you're up finally," Erik commented.

He was sitting at the round table in the center of the small, rundown kitchen on his laptop.

"It's 6:30 in the morning, " Jax replied, grabbing a chipped mug from the cupboard and pouring the dark contents of the coffee pot in it.

Dark eyes flicked up from over the screen, "The sun's up isn't it?"

Jax rolled his eyes, remembering the man's "if the sun's up I'm up" mantra. After almost 12 years, Jax knew every habit and tendency of the father figure. For a second, his thoughts trailed to first time he met Erik, but he quickly shook off the memory of that night.

"I need you to bring some food down to our... guest," Erik ordered, not looking up from the illuminated screen.

Jax's eyes flicked to the corner of the room, where a square trap door led down to the cellar, and a pit formed in his stomach. He ignored this uneasiness, knowing this was what he had to do.

He nodded despite knowing Erik was too consumed in his work to notice. Erik was always working. Jax didn't even know the extent what he did, and he liked it like that. Not knowing made it easier.

Setting his half drank coffee down on the counter, he popped two pieces of bread in the toaster and opened the small refrigerator. Inside, a carton of eggs, half gallon of milk, and six pack of Budweiser resided.

Rolling his eyes, Jax grabbed the eggs and searched for a pan.

"How much longer will we staying in this dump?" Jax asks, beating the cracked eggs.

"However long it takes to get what is mine," the working man responds.

"Let's hope that's soon," Jax says, spotting a roach scurrying across the floor, "Where is the guy that owns this place anyways?"

"Caine? He's still sleeping, lazy redneck that man."

Jax wonders what will happen to the old Texan when they leave, whether Erik will "dispose" if him or save him for future use. After all, access to the remote ranch home proved very useful... if the man could keep him toothless mouth shut.

Finished at the stove, Jax places the eggs and toast on a flimsy paper plate and fills a plastic cup with water from the sink, careful not to give her anything breakable.

With a deep breath, he turns and faces the trap door again, approaching it slowly. He opens the latch and pulls on the heavy wood, a long moan escaping from its worn joints. With the plate and cup in hand, he descends into the dark dungeon, unsure of what demons he'll have to face when he does.

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Hope you guys liked this chapter, I'm really excited for Jax's character :) Comment and vote if you liked it!