'Witness' - The White Bridge Crime Series 3 - LGBT, manXman

8

It had taken his pain-addled brain a few minutes to realise the man stood before him wasn't Freddie; it was another man, who bore a remarkable resemblance to Fred.

As the man approached, Tom's eyes began to burn.

He realised blood was dripping steadily into his eyes, and blinked furiously to clear his vision.

His head was pounding; his skull felt too tight around his brain.

"Who are you?" Tom managed to speak through the blood in his mouth and his swollen lips, though his words were badly muffled. "What do you want?"

The man reached out and pulled Tom's chair upright again, jolting Tom's pain-laced body.

"I've got everything I want, right here." The man was softly spoken, with a Scottish accent.

Tom was still shaken by his resemblance to Freddie.

Freddie.

Tom's heart ached.

The last word's he'd spoken to Freddie were in anger, and now he wouldn't see him again.

Tom began to weep, his salty tears mingling with blood and staining his vision red.

Roughly, the man reached out and wiped Tom's eyes clear.

Pain exploded through his skull at the man's rough touch, and Tom automatically pulled his head back.

He felt something plastic being shoved into his mouth.

Squirming away in protest, Tom felt icy water touch his tongue a moment later, and started sucking at the bottle enthusiastically, not caring when he started to choke.

The man yanked the bottle back after a moment and placed it on the floor in front of Tom. He pulled a wooden stool from behind Tom's chair and settled himself upon it.

"Focus," he snapped, seeing Tom's dazed look. "Now, tell me. How long have you been seeing James Roland?"

Tom blinked, trying to focus his vision.

"Who?" He asked thickly.

"James Roland." The man repeated. "You work with him."

Tom shook his head slowly, wincing as his skull pounded painfully.

"I don't work with anyone called James."

"Yes, you do. How long have you been seeing him?"

"No," Tom insisted. "Adrian, Eli, Freddie, Justin, Clark, Chloe, Sammy and Brian."

He paused for breath, spitting out a mouthful of blood.

"They're who I work with."

"James Roland," the man hissed, backhanding Tom hard across the face. "How long have you been with him?"

"I don't know a James Roland!" Tom cried. "The only James I ever knew used to beat me up in the playground when I was six!"

The man sighed, seeing truth in Tom's eyes.

"Alright. Adrian... Eli... Freddie... Justin... Freddie."

The man watched Tom's expression closely as he said the names. He noticed a slight twitch at the corner of Tom's eyes when he said 'Freddie', so he said it again, and noticed the twitch again.

"Freddie," he said in a satisfied voice.

"No," Tom moaned softly. "No."

"What's Freddie's name?" The man demanded. "His full name."

"No," Tom whimpered.

The man hit him again.

Tom screamed as pain radiated through his skull.

"Tell me," the man snarled. "Or worse will happen to you."

"No," Tom whispered. "I won't tell you."