fend for
himself. Plus he had a gang that he was the revered leader of. No one messed
with Trig.
“Yeah,” said Ted, not knowing what else to
say.
“Sit down, sit down,” said Trig, indicating
to the many cushions scattered on the floor. They both did as they were told.
“Wanna beer?”
“Bit early for me thanks,” said Dillon. Ted
shook his head too.
“Suit yourselves,” said Trig helping
himself to one from the cool box next to the table. “Kitchen’s too far away to
keep getting them out of the fridge,” he grinned.
“Did you manage to find anything out about
that place, The Lock ?” asked Dillon.
“As a matter of fact I did,” replied Trig
looking pleased with himself. “Right dodgy place by the sounds of it.”
Ted was confused. “We were there last night
and there was nothing dodgy going on.”
“But were you in the right place? See,
there’s the main club that the world gets to see, a flash and famous joint where
loadsa celebs go, but behind that is something else: a members-only club where
punters can view girls and boys without interruption, in the comfort of the
place. There is no age limit on what might be on display and you can pretty
much order them for whatever you want, for how long you want.”
Ted felt bile rising in his throat. “I will
have one of those beers actually,” he said getting up and walking over to the
cool box.
“We never saw anything like that when we
were there last night,” said Dillon.
“Of course not, this is not a place they
want just anyone to know about,” scoffed Trig.
Did you know there were places like this?”
Dillon asked Trig. “I knew there were some sick muckers out there but this
seems so organised, so premeditated. Someone’s put a lot of thought and money
into this.”
“There was talk in prison, ya know, some of
the real sick inmates boasted about shit they were into and where they could
get it. But I had to dig quite deep to find out about The Lock . Seems
it’s protected by some very upper crust, influential people, if yer know what I
mean. People that don’t want to be recognised, and want somewhere anonymous to
satisfy their sick fantasies.”
Ted gulped desperately at his beer, wishing
it was something stronger.
“It’s a massive club set over three floors
with bangin’ tunes. If it wasn’t hell on earth it would be a wicked club to go
to,” snorted Trig. “Shame really.”
“So can we get in there?” said Ted, looking
anxiously from Trig to Dillon.
“We can’t, no…” said Trig beaming.
Ted couldn’t understand why Trig kept
looking so pleased with himself and it was beginning to annoy him.
Just then a door slammed somewhere in the
house. The dogs barked. Trig shouted. There were footsteps getting closer and
closer, then a bunch of people appeared in the doorway.
“…but they can,” finished Trig.
Ted looked at the motley collection of
people standing in the doorway. There was a young woman, and two men with what
looked like a beaten drunk hanging off them. The woman strode over to Trig and
sat on his knee, planting a long kiss on his mouth. The men dropped the drunk
on the floor and went and helped themselves to a beer each.
“Nice work. Is this ‘im?” asked Trig
nodding towards the man on the floor.
The bottles hissed as the tops were flicked
off.
“Yeah, this is William Hungerford,” said
one of the men. “Where are your manners?” he shouted, walking over and kicking
the body with a long leg. He towered above everyone and Ted could see why
someone as small as Trig would have a mate the size this guy. “Say howdie-do to
everyone!” The body didn’t move. “Out cold,” sniffed the man.
“Easy, Bill,” laughed Trig. “Don’t freak
out our guests. You know my little brother Dill, and this is Ted whose sister
we’re trying to find.”
“Alright,” grunted Bill, slumping down on a
cushion and slugging from his beer.
“That there is Dave,” continued Trig,
nodding towards the
himself. Plus he had a gang that he was the revered leader of. No one messed
with Trig.
“Yeah,” said Ted, not knowing what else to
say.
“Sit down, sit down,” said Trig, indicating
to the many cushions scattered on the floor. They both did as they were told.
“Wanna beer?”
“Bit early for me thanks,” said Dillon. Ted
shook his head too.
“Suit yourselves,” said Trig helping
himself to one from the cool box next to the table. “Kitchen’s too far away to
keep getting them out of the fridge,” he grinned.
“Did you manage to find anything out about
that place, The Lock ?” asked Dillon.
“As a matter of fact I did,” replied Trig
looking pleased with himself. “Right dodgy place by the sounds of it.”
Ted was confused. “We were there last night
and there was nothing dodgy going on.”
“But were you in the right place? See,
there’s the main club that the world gets to see, a flash and famous joint where
loadsa celebs go, but behind that is something else: a members-only club where
punters can view girls and boys without interruption, in the comfort of the
place. There is no age limit on what might be on display and you can pretty
much order them for whatever you want, for how long you want.”
Ted felt bile rising in his throat. “I will
have one of those beers actually,” he said getting up and walking over to the
cool box.
“We never saw anything like that when we
were there last night,” said Dillon.
“Of course not, this is not a place they
want just anyone to know about,” scoffed Trig.
Did you know there were places like this?”
Dillon asked Trig. “I knew there were some sick muckers out there but this
seems so organised, so premeditated. Someone’s put a lot of thought and money
into this.”
“There was talk in prison, ya know, some of
the real sick inmates boasted about shit they were into and where they could
get it. But I had to dig quite deep to find out about The Lock . Seems
it’s protected by some very upper crust, influential people, if yer know what I
mean. People that don’t want to be recognised, and want somewhere anonymous to
satisfy their sick fantasies.”
Ted gulped desperately at his beer, wishing
it was something stronger.
“It’s a massive club set over three floors
with bangin’ tunes. If it wasn’t hell on earth it would be a wicked club to go
to,” snorted Trig. “Shame really.”
“So can we get in there?” said Ted, looking
anxiously from Trig to Dillon.
“We can’t, no…” said Trig beaming.
Ted couldn’t understand why Trig kept
looking so pleased with himself and it was beginning to annoy him.
Just then a door slammed somewhere in the
house. The dogs barked. Trig shouted. There were footsteps getting closer and
closer, then a bunch of people appeared in the doorway.
“…but they can,” finished Trig.
Ted looked at the motley collection of
people standing in the doorway. There was a young woman, and two men with what
looked like a beaten drunk hanging off them. The woman strode over to Trig and
sat on his knee, planting a long kiss on his mouth. The men dropped the drunk
on the floor and went and helped themselves to a beer each.
“Nice work. Is this ‘im?” asked Trig
nodding towards the man on the floor.
The bottles hissed as the tops were flicked
off.
“Yeah, this is William Hungerford,” said
one of the men. “Where are your manners?” he shouted, walking over and kicking
the body with a long leg. He towered above everyone and Ted could see why
someone as small as Trig would have a mate the size this guy. “Say howdie-do to
everyone!” The body didn’t move. “Out cold,” sniffed the man.
“Easy, Bill,” laughed Trig. “Don’t freak
out our guests. You know my little brother Dill, and this is Ted whose sister
we’re trying to find.”
“Alright,” grunted Bill, slumping down on a
cushion and slugging from his beer.
“That there is Dave,” continued Trig,
nodding towards the
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