stockholm syndrome - tracob

eight

It was evening, a few days after Curt had given him some much needed laxatives, and Troye had just been tied loose by Jacob. Jacob had let Troye eat by himself, leaving him with the food and locking the door as he went on 'other business'. Troye didn't care about what that other business was, really. He didn't.

Not one bit.

Maybe he was going to his girlfriend or something.

Not like he cared though.

As he still tried to convince himself he wasn't curious as to what Jacob was going to do that was keeping Troye from being able to spend time with him - and if it had something to with a girlfriend or not - he paced up and down the room. He had gotten little time to really walk around up till now, since they usually placed a guard before his door at night who always heard it if Troye wasn't on his mattress. He felt scolded like a dog sometimes, the way those men treated him. What were they afraid of if he walked around at night anyway? That he would escape?

Troye huffed. And what if he would? Not like he would ever be able to, since there were way too many men in the building and Troye had no idea where he could go when he - if he - would ever manage to get out of the building, but alright.

That still didn't explain what Jacob had left him for though. The past few days he had stayed with Troye during dinner, chatting for a bit. He was a nice guy, or at least, Troye thought he was. If he didn't remind himself of the fact Jacob was part of the reason he was here, he could convince himself that Jacob was a nice guy.

"God fucking dammit, kid," Curt said as he barged in, and Troye jumped a bit with a startled squeak. Curt seemed taken aback too as he saw Troye wasn't in his chair, but instead at the other end of the room.

Right in front of the door, that was now wide open.

Troye was as startled as Curt however, and before he could react Curt had taken a few long steps towards him and took him roughly by the arm. "How the fuck did you get loose?" he hissed.

"I.. He.. Got me loose. To eat. Food," Troye brought out, pointing at the plate still left untouched with the arm that wasn't being crushed at the moment. He was still afraid of Curt, even though he didn't like to admit him to himself. He didn't feel safe around the man. Didn't trust him one bit.

Of course that wasn't really strange, given... everything. Troye was certain however that, had he come across Curt in a random street in the middle of the day, he still would've crossed over so he could avoid the man. Curt just oozed out a bad personality or something. Troye had no idea what Jacob ever saw in him. Why he would ever work with a man like that. Unless Jacob was the same type of guy of course, only he hid it better. Troye tried to swallow with his suddenly very dry throat.

Curt roughly dragged Troye to the chair and tied him up again, tighter than needed. The ropes tugged at Troye's skin but he made no sound or movement to show his discomfort. Wouldn't - couldn't - do Curt the satisfaction.

"So tell me," Curt said in a grim voice, his face close to Troye's after he was done with the ropes. "Why hasn't your daddy paid up yet?" Troye willed himself not to look away, but failed as he looked at his lap, tears welling up in his eyes.

"He hasn't?" he whispered, barely audible. Curt took a step back.

"This negotiation," he then said slowly. "It's all a set-up, isn't it? To get an idea of where I might be located, to get an idea to where you might be. To get a chance to..." He trailed off.

"It's a set-up," he then repeated.

"Why on earth is the door- Oh." Jacob stopped in the doorway as he saw Curt standing in front of Troye, who looked quite miserable if Jacob was honest. His curls that had been so shiny when he had seen him for the first time at the airport were now flat on his head, his cheeks were hollow and white and he had dark circles under his eyes. Jacob blinked. It was the first time he had really noticed all of this, but-