Captive

         Andrew Waitson waited on the porch overlooking the harbor, his thoughts distracted from the view as he thought of ways to escape. His sore wrists were tightly bound his back.
         "Thinking of an escape route, Waitson?" Drawled the tall young man behind him. Andrew jumped, spinning around, and pressed his bound wrists to the railing.
         "You know me best, Tony." He answered.
         "I do which is why I want you to help me." Anthony Carver looked over the younger boy and curled his lip. Jon had told him the boy had been mistreated over the past few months. If by mistreated he meant beaten and starved half to death than he was right.
         "What if I don't want to?" Andrew inquired.
         "Then I can go fetch Jon from my front room and he can take you home. I'd imagine I was offering you solace ... escape. Or are the theroys that he rapes pretty boys like you ... just a theory?" Tony knew he'd struck a nerve as the younger boys face fell. In one movement he sliced the ropes on a nail and launched himself at his new captor. Tony felt a little regretful as he had bought his brother's friend like a common slave and let the boy whale on him before grabbing his wrists and pinning them together.
         Andrew dissolved into tears as people thundered up the stairs. They had made quite a crash when they fell. It was a few moments before Tony realized he was saying something, "Don't let me go home with him. Please. Please, it's all true."

         Jon stood in the door looking down on them.
         "Enjoying your position, Andrew?" He taunted, his voice cold. The tortured boy crawled off Tony and curled into a ball shaking. {
         "Are we done here?" Tony asked, looking at his new purchase. He shuddered at the thought and turned to face Jon.
         "I believe we are." Jon answered, glancing at his former prisoner. He had smaller fish to fry at home but it was worth more than some stupid City Guard. The older man sneered at his victim and turned away with a contemptuous flick of his cape. As soon as he was gone Tony roll led to his feet and carefully approached his former enemy.
         "He's gone. Andrew you're safe here, trust me. I swear on my father's grave that I won't do you any more harm. Those days are past us." Andrew looked up, his face wet with tears, his eyes red.
         "Why?" He asked, his voice doubtful as he reached up to wipe the snot from his lips.
         "Because I need you're help, like I said earlier. You see ... gods' I can't talk to you like this. Go to my room and wait while my maid draws you à hot bath. Then I'll send her son out to get you some new clothes while the husband cooks us up a nice dinner."