Lu smiled at him. Oh s.h.i.t.

"You leave now," Rashid said.

"I'm bait to get someone else here," Tyler croaked.

Lu picked the sock up from the floor and guessing what he was going to do, Tyler thrashed his head from side to side. Lu yanked on his hair to keep his head still and pushed the sock back in his mouth. He spun Tyler around to face the wall.

"You amateur?" Lu asked. "Need to play longer with toy before strike like that, draw blood. Messy. Give me whip. I show you."

Hit him, Lu. Please.

Three fast strikes across his lower back made Tyler jerk into the wall. Oh G.o.d, my c.o.c.k, my hips, my knees. Have I been f.u.c.king whisked into some parallel universe? A guy he'd hoped might save him was giving lessons on how to whip him to a guy who most likely wanted to tear him to shreds. Well, he would once he realized he hadn't called Haris.

He closed his eyes as the whip hit him again and again, the pain shooting to every part of his body. He consoled himself with the knowledge that Rashid would have whipped him anyway. Who the h.e.l.l was he? He clearly thought Tyler should know. He must have thought he wouldn't have gone with him if he'd told him his real name. He likely would have. I'm idiot boy. Was Rashid an old boyfriend of Haris? Ex-business partner? f.u.c.king escapee from a psychiatric hospital?

"See how I do? You can whip for longer time, still painful but damage skin less," Lu said.

b.a.s.t.a.r.d. Am I supposed to be grateful? Tyler guessed Prescott had called Lu to see if he was near the club. He'd arrived so quickly, he was probably already in there. He only wore leather pants, his upper body was bare. Tyler clung to the hope that Prescott wouldn't want him damaged but maybe the phone call was a mistake. Should he have tried to press 999?

The whip fell again, onto his a.s.s this time, and Tyler cried out behind the gag. s.h.i.t, that hurt.

"See how to do it now?" Lu asked.

"Yes. Thank you. Go now."

"Tyler a brat. But he my brat. You go now."

"No."

As the whip fell again, Tyler shuddered into the wall. Lu pulled the gag out and Tyler sucked in air, trying to draw saliva into his mouth. "He wants to kill me," he croaked.

"Prescott want to kill you too."

Uh-oh. Tyler's b.a.l.l.s tried even harder to climb into his body. The police weren't supposed to be doing anything until Sat.u.r.day as far as Prescott was concerned. So...

"Why?" Tyler asked, his heart bouncing on his stomach.

"Gerald heard he reported for rape."

Tyler turned to face him. "He didn't rape me." Oh G.o.d.

"Who did he rape?"

"Look ou-" Tyler choked off his warning as Rashid wrapped the whip around Lu's neck.

Lu managed to slide his fingers under the leather but Rashid pulled tighter.

"Help," Tyler screamed. He kept on screaming as the two men struggled. Lu pulled off Rashid's mask, trying to push his fingers into his eyes. As Rashid dragged the mask back in place, Lu elbowed him in the ribs and Rashid doubled over. Tyler thought for a moment that Lu would break free but Rashid spun round, lashed out with his foot and Lu's head smacked into the wall before he slumped to the floor.

Don't look at the blood.

A breathless Rashid kicked the motionless Lu and snapped something in his own language. He rifled through Tyler's clothing and pulled out his phone.

"You call number again."

Don't look at the screen. But even as Tyler thought it, he saw it was too late.

"Who Henry?"

Tyler put on his best puzzled look. "Why?"

"You call him, not Haris." Rashid struck Tyler's head so hard with the whip handle that everything went black before his vision filled with blurred stars.

"Did I? I didn't mean to," he said with a groan. "Their numbers are next to each other."

Rashid glared. "You speak to him now."

Tyler groaned. He'd had enough. This wasn't going to turn out well. If he saved Haris, at least he'd done something worthwhile with his life.

"Go f.u.c.k yourself," Tyler muttered, tasting blood in his mouth.

"You want me f.u.c.k you with whip?"

"You already have."

"Not like that."

Rashid twisted Tyler round and shoved the handle against his a.n.u.s. Tyler tensed. Oh Christ, let me be brave. "I'm not calling him here for you to kill him."

"You will call him. How much pain you want before you do?"

"Touch him again and I'll kill you."

Rashid spun round. Tyler looked over his shoulder to see Haris standing in the doorway with another man, one he'd seen before somewhere. He blinked hard in case he was imagining it but Haris didn't disappear. Relief fought dismay, but at least Haris wasn't alone.

"Harissss." Rashid hissed like a cobra and his eyes widened.

Haris wanted to pummel Rashid until he f.u.c.king screamed. Blood dripped down Tyler's beautiful back where the whip had cut him.

"Stan, check the guy on the floor," Haris said.

Lu was already coming round. He put his hand to his head and looked at the blood on his fingers. Tyler gagged.

"You f.u.c.king lunatic," Lu snapped.

Stan helped him to his feet, but Lu brushed him aside and pushed past him out of the room.

"Now get Tyler out of here," Haris said.

"No," Tyler blurted. "He wants to kill you."

The moment Tyler was freed he tried to get to Haris but Stan pulled him back. "Put your clothes on, son."

Haris was aware Tyler was doing what he was told, but he didn't take his gaze from Rashid.

"What do you want?" Haris asked in Arabic.

"What do I want? Justice. Fairness. Rest.i.tution."

"So you take a whip to my friend? What has he done to you?"

"He can stand it. I stood it." Rashid peeled his T-shirt to his shoulders and turned his back for a moment before he faced Haris again. "I live with it."

Rashid's back was a ma.s.s of scar tissue, ugly keloid scarring that looked like an alien carapace.

"Not pretty," Rashid snapped.

"You think I don't live with what happened?" Haris asked.

Rashid spat at his feet.

"I was seventeen," Haris said. "You were twenty-two. Those five years made all the difference. I couldn't help the sentences that were handed out."

"Four thousand lashes and seventeen years in prison," Rashid said. "Few years off for good conduct. My body disfigured. My youth gone. While you were free to start a life in a new country. You have no idea what I endured. I loved you."

What the h.e.l.l? "You'd only just met me. We had nothing, Rashid, nothing but a moment of l.u.s.t. We were going to f.u.c.k, that was all. We'd have walked away from each other after a couple of hours at the most."

"No. I loved you."

"What are you saying?" Tyler shouted. "What's going on? Speak b.l.o.o.d.y English."

Haris swallowed hard. Pointless arguing with madness. At least Rashid was using the past tense. Loved and not love. He moderated his tone to one of quiet persuasion. "You want justice, fairness, rest.i.tution. How can I make things right? I can't get back the life you lost. I can give you money."

"I already have money." He gave a sly smile that chilled Haris. Had Malik paid him?

Haris held out his arms. "Whip me, then. Let my friend go."

"No," Tyler shouted, struggling to get free from Stan.

Haris peeled off his coat and let it drop to the floor. Then he stripped off his shirt, walked to the wall and grasped the restraints.

"Don't touch him," Tyler yelled.

Rashid sucked in a breath and swore.

Thank G.o.d for that.

"He said..." Rashid muttered.

Haris turned to face him. "Malik told you I wasn't punished? I was given a thousand lashes. I know that was a quarter of what you received. And yes, I had to leave the country or face jail. I wasn't there when my mother died. I have to accept the possibility that she failed to stop at traffic lights because she was so distracted by what had happened to me. I had to live without my father, without my brothers. My father paid for my education but I gave him back every penny. I remade myself, Rashid. You can do the same."

Probably not, but it wasn't the time to point that out. Haris picked up his shirt and pulled it on. Rashid let the whip fall from his hand. A somber-faced Stan handed Haris his coat and nodded toward Tyler. At the edge of his vision he could see him shaking.

"Malik has used you," Haris said quietly and swapped back to English. "Did he pay you to kill me?"

Rashid pressed his lips together.

"It was you who pushed us in front of a bus."

"No," he snapped. "That was not me."

Why deny it? Unless-oh s.h.i.t.

"Why did you stab Tyler's friend?"

"Malik's plan. He want it to look as though you and Tyler fought and killed each other. We follow you while he work out details. Not such a good plan when we get wrong boy. Boy alive?"

"Yes," Haris said.

"You want me to kill Malik?"

Haris gave a short laugh. "No. If anyone kills him, it will be me."

Haris turned when the door burst open and three uniformed policemen rushed in. He thought Rashid might try to run but he didn't move.

"We had a report of an a.s.sault in progress," said one of the cops.

"I called you," Stan said and held up his PI identification.

"What's happened?" asked the cop.

Tyler pointed to Rashid. "That man, Rashid, drugged my coffee and brought me here against my will. He whipped me. He wanted me to get Haris to come here, but I called someone else."

Haris swallowed hard. Thank G.o.d Stan had managed to trace the phone.

"I was screaming and a guy I know came in and wanted to show Rashid how to use a whip but Rashid tried to kill him. A few days ago, Rashid stabbed my friend Jeremy because he thought he was me."

"Let's see your injuries," one of the policemen said to Tyler.

Tyler took off the coat, unfastened his shirt and let it slip from his shoulders.

"You need to go to the hospital," said the cop.

Tyler refastened his shirt.

As Rashid's wrists were put in handcuffs behind his back and he was told his rights, he gave Haris a sad smile. "Why does your brother hate you so much?"

"When I see him, I'll ask him."