#Chapter 88: Views

Jesse I always enjoyed being in Scott’s penthouse, but never more so than I did just then. It had an amazing, sprawling view, polished floors, shelves lined with rare books, and a table of expensive liquor. It was all pretentious but comfortable. Back when I had been on the streets, it was the kind of place I would have dreamed of. It was just a shame he’d never enjoy it again the same way. Not after I had tainted it by my abrupt arrival. I sat on his leather couch, one boot resting on the edge of his glass coffee table, swirling his favorite whiskey in his favorite tumbler. I took a deep swallow, savoring the taste and the feeling of this newfound freedom after so many days of being bound and beaten. But now, it was Scott who was suffering. He was bound and gagged, still kicking feebly at the closed closet door where he was stowed away. Every now and then, he thumped weakly, though his attempts at screaming around the gag had tapered off uselessly It was easy to ignore.