Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Five Beautiful Boys
“Get up, Way,” Frank ordered.
“I can’t,” Gerard groaned, as he lay still curled on the floor.
“Get the fuck up!” Ray snapped angrily but at the same time trying hard to keep his voice low so as not to alert the neighbours. Grabbing Gerard’s arm roughly, Ray pulled him to a sitting position. “We don’t have all night!”
Gerard looked up to see the man nursing his left hand, two of the fingers already badly swollen from the bite he had given him when he was attacked at the door.
“If I can’t do my job because of you, Way, you’re a dead man and so is that precious brother of yours!” Ray growled angrily as Gerard forced himself to stand, despite the pain of Frank’s kick to his groin still coursing through him. He felt weak and oh, God, so sore he could barely move.
“What do you want?” Gerard asked.
Even he knew it was a ridiculous question. They were there to discuss the bank robbery and his part in it and he knew it, but he had to say something and no other question would come to his pain-ridden mind.
“Sit down, Way,” Frank suggested. It would be a long night and from the look of him, still not fully upright and pale as a ghost, Gerard was fit to drop.
Gerard wasted no time arguing, and headed as fast as he could manage to the nearest chair.
“Good,” Frank smiled. “Now perhaps we can talk?”
Gerard’s shoulders dropped and he sighed irritably.
“Just prove to me that Mikey’s okay, tell me what you want me to do and get out.”
A tangible tension descended over the room. Gerard felt it but chose to say and do nothing, he had to hold his ground; he was not without pride. Frank drew his lips into an angry pout and glared at Gerard. Saying nothing and without even glancing away, Frank pulled his phone from his pocket and pressed a speed-dial number. He paused for a few moments before speaking.
“Are you with him?” Frank nodded to himself. “Put him on speaker.”
Throwing the phone to Gerard, Frank continued to glare. Catching the cell phone, Gerard held it to his ear; staring back at Frank’s furious glower, he spoke.
“Mikey?”
“Gerard? Is that you?” came the scared reply.
“Yeah, Mikes, are you okay?”
“I… I’m okay, Gee,” Mikey replied hesitantly.
Of course he wasn’t okay. He had been beaten, kidnapped, his hands and feet handcuffed and he was very, very scared – but he knew from the little they had told him that Gerard had enough to worry about and he wasn’t about to add to it.
Gerard’s eyes widened as the next sound he heard was the sound of his brother screaming in agony.
“Mikey!” he yelled in panic at the sound.
Frank snatched the phone from him and with his fingers still curled around the phone, swept the back of his fist viciously across Gerard’s face.
“Keep it down, Way!” he growled.
Gerard turned a glare of half fear half anger towards Frank.
“You bastard, Iero! What’s happening to him?”
Gripping Gerard around the neck, Frank pushed him back into the seat while pulling the gun, already fitted with the silencer, from his pocket. Pushing the barrel into Gerard’s cheek, Frank spoke through gritted teeth.
“He got that because you tried to give me orders. Now, I suggest you calm yourself down, Way, because, believe me, he’ll suffer for it and the mood I’m in now, so will you! Don’t get me wrong, I want those jewels in that vault of yours, but it’s not the end of the world if I don’t get them. You speak to me like that again, or try to defy me in any way and you’re a dead man! Got it?”
Gerard gave a tense and shallow nod. What little colour that had returned to his cheeks had once again drained away.
“What do you want?” he asked quietly.
“Better.” Frank smiled with satisfaction; pleased to have once more demonstrated that he was in control.
*
Mikey was curled into a ball, gasping for breath wondering what the hell he had done wrong. That man, the one who had attacked and kidnapped him, had held the phone close enough for him to speak, he had heard Gerard’s voice and answered his question saying nothing of where he was or who had him and had been immediately brutally beaten.
Shutting off the speaker, the man held the phone briefly to his ear as he took direction from Frank. Speaking few words, he glanced occasionally at Mikey still curled up, too afraid to make eye contact for fear of another beating.
Shutting off the phone, the man then started back up the stairs as if nothing had happened, as if Mikey wasn’t even there. At the top of the stairs, he switched off the light, plunging the room into blackness. Pain gave way to despair, and Mikey shuddered with a mixture of anguish and the frightened tears he was no longer able to hold in. Exhausted by the trauma of the day, even the thin mattress began to feel somewhat comfortable. Mikey’s tears added to the stains as they dripped from his cheek and nose. Finally overcome with despair and fatigue, he drifted into a dreamless sleep.
*
Ray glared at Gerard as he wrapped his hand in a towel filled with ice. Now able to join Frank and Ray at the table, he tried his best to ignore the daggers that Ray was sending his way.
“Okay,” Frank began as if he were addressing a meeting. “I want to start by saying that you can forget any loyalty you have to the bank. Your only loyalty now is to your brother, assuming you want him to live.”
Gerard pulled his lips into a thin line and tried his best to hold in his response, but Frank could see he was almost fighting to keep it in.
“What?” he asked, clenching his jaw in annoyance. After a brief pause, Frank slammed his hand down on the table. “Don’t make me prove it to you again, Way! I will, believe me, but I could do without wasting my time on you!”
“Cut the scare tactics, Iero. I hate the bank, I always have. I don’t give a damn if you blow it to bits! Now just tell me what you want.”
“Yeah, right, Mister Assistant Manager,” Frank replied sarcastically, “that’s how you get to the top, by not caring.”
“You can believe me or not, I don’t care. The point is I’m not going to do anything to endanger Mikey, okay? I’ll do whatever you want… just… don’t hurt him… please!”
Frank folded his arms and regarded Gerard, at first with suspicion and then, after a few moments, his feelings bordered on trust. He knew that Gerard was still being forced to do all this, he wouldn’t assume otherwise, but he began to genuinely feel that he wouldn’t lift a finger if there were the remotest risk to Mikey. He liked that. He had chosen his victim well.
“Fair enough,” Frank nodded. “I don’t care what your motives are, provided you do what you’re told.”
“I…,” Gerard hesitated. “I just wanted you to know that, because, if I’m honest, I don’t know if I can give you what you want.”
“What are you talking about?” Frank asked, his tone making it very clear that he believed nothing of what he was hearing.
“I don’t know how to open the vault and I don’t know how to get past all the security devices.”
“What do you know?” Frank snapped.
Gerard shrugged helplessly; he could tell without a word being spoken on the subject, that Frank believed him to be stalling.
“The security, the vaults, they’re all on a timer. No one can get in before eight-thirty in the morning.”
“That’s my job,” Ray cut in. “All we need from you are the daily security codes and the guard duty rosters. We know the routines and passcodes change daily, your job is to give us the information. And it better be accurate, Way, or your brother’s dead. Okay?”
Gerard swallowed hard and took a deep breath; it really didn’t need saying as many times as they had. He understood, but above all, he believed them.
“Yeah.”
“Okay,” Frank took a deep breath. “Pay attention, we’re doing this tomorrow night.”
“I can’t,” Gerard groaned, as he lay still curled on the floor.
“Get the fuck up!” Ray snapped angrily but at the same time trying hard to keep his voice low so as not to alert the neighbours. Grabbing Gerard’s arm roughly, Ray pulled him to a sitting position. “We don’t have all night!”
Gerard looked up to see the man nursing his left hand, two of the fingers already badly swollen from the bite he had given him when he was attacked at the door.
“If I can’t do my job because of you, Way, you’re a dead man and so is that precious brother of yours!” Ray growled angrily as Gerard forced himself to stand, despite the pain of Frank’s kick to his groin still coursing through him. He felt weak and oh, God, so sore he could barely move.
“What do you want?” Gerard asked.
Even he knew it was a ridiculous question. They were there to discuss the bank robbery and his part in it and he knew it, but he had to say something and no other question would come to his pain-ridden mind.
“Sit down, Way,” Frank suggested. It would be a long night and from the look of him, still not fully upright and pale as a ghost, Gerard was fit to drop.
Gerard wasted no time arguing, and headed as fast as he could manage to the nearest chair.
“Good,” Frank smiled. “Now perhaps we can talk?”
Gerard’s shoulders dropped and he sighed irritably.
“Just prove to me that Mikey’s okay, tell me what you want me to do and get out.”
A tangible tension descended over the room. Gerard felt it but chose to say and do nothing, he had to hold his ground; he was not without pride. Frank drew his lips into an angry pout and glared at Gerard. Saying nothing and without even glancing away, Frank pulled his phone from his pocket and pressed a speed-dial number. He paused for a few moments before speaking.
“Are you with him?” Frank nodded to himself. “Put him on speaker.”
Throwing the phone to Gerard, Frank continued to glare. Catching the cell phone, Gerard held it to his ear; staring back at Frank’s furious glower, he spoke.
“Mikey?”
“Gerard? Is that you?” came the scared reply.
“Yeah, Mikes, are you okay?”
“I… I’m okay, Gee,” Mikey replied hesitantly.
Of course he wasn’t okay. He had been beaten, kidnapped, his hands and feet handcuffed and he was very, very scared – but he knew from the little they had told him that Gerard had enough to worry about and he wasn’t about to add to it.
Gerard’s eyes widened as the next sound he heard was the sound of his brother screaming in agony.
“Mikey!” he yelled in panic at the sound.
Frank snatched the phone from him and with his fingers still curled around the phone, swept the back of his fist viciously across Gerard’s face.
“Keep it down, Way!” he growled.
Gerard turned a glare of half fear half anger towards Frank.
“You bastard, Iero! What’s happening to him?”
Gripping Gerard around the neck, Frank pushed him back into the seat while pulling the gun, already fitted with the silencer, from his pocket. Pushing the barrel into Gerard’s cheek, Frank spoke through gritted teeth.
“He got that because you tried to give me orders. Now, I suggest you calm yourself down, Way, because, believe me, he’ll suffer for it and the mood I’m in now, so will you! Don’t get me wrong, I want those jewels in that vault of yours, but it’s not the end of the world if I don’t get them. You speak to me like that again, or try to defy me in any way and you’re a dead man! Got it?”
Gerard gave a tense and shallow nod. What little colour that had returned to his cheeks had once again drained away.
“What do you want?” he asked quietly.
“Better.” Frank smiled with satisfaction; pleased to have once more demonstrated that he was in control.
*
Mikey was curled into a ball, gasping for breath wondering what the hell he had done wrong. That man, the one who had attacked and kidnapped him, had held the phone close enough for him to speak, he had heard Gerard’s voice and answered his question saying nothing of where he was or who had him and had been immediately brutally beaten.
Shutting off the speaker, the man held the phone briefly to his ear as he took direction from Frank. Speaking few words, he glanced occasionally at Mikey still curled up, too afraid to make eye contact for fear of another beating.
Shutting off the phone, the man then started back up the stairs as if nothing had happened, as if Mikey wasn’t even there. At the top of the stairs, he switched off the light, plunging the room into blackness. Pain gave way to despair, and Mikey shuddered with a mixture of anguish and the frightened tears he was no longer able to hold in. Exhausted by the trauma of the day, even the thin mattress began to feel somewhat comfortable. Mikey’s tears added to the stains as they dripped from his cheek and nose. Finally overcome with despair and fatigue, he drifted into a dreamless sleep.
*
Ray glared at Gerard as he wrapped his hand in a towel filled with ice. Now able to join Frank and Ray at the table, he tried his best to ignore the daggers that Ray was sending his way.
“Okay,” Frank began as if he were addressing a meeting. “I want to start by saying that you can forget any loyalty you have to the bank. Your only loyalty now is to your brother, assuming you want him to live.”
Gerard pulled his lips into a thin line and tried his best to hold in his response, but Frank could see he was almost fighting to keep it in.
“What?” he asked, clenching his jaw in annoyance. After a brief pause, Frank slammed his hand down on the table. “Don’t make me prove it to you again, Way! I will, believe me, but I could do without wasting my time on you!”
“Cut the scare tactics, Iero. I hate the bank, I always have. I don’t give a damn if you blow it to bits! Now just tell me what you want.”
“Yeah, right, Mister Assistant Manager,” Frank replied sarcastically, “that’s how you get to the top, by not caring.”
“You can believe me or not, I don’t care. The point is I’m not going to do anything to endanger Mikey, okay? I’ll do whatever you want… just… don’t hurt him… please!”
Frank folded his arms and regarded Gerard, at first with suspicion and then, after a few moments, his feelings bordered on trust. He knew that Gerard was still being forced to do all this, he wouldn’t assume otherwise, but he began to genuinely feel that he wouldn’t lift a finger if there were the remotest risk to Mikey. He liked that. He had chosen his victim well.
“Fair enough,” Frank nodded. “I don’t care what your motives are, provided you do what you’re told.”
“I…,” Gerard hesitated. “I just wanted you to know that, because, if I’m honest, I don’t know if I can give you what you want.”
“What are you talking about?” Frank asked, his tone making it very clear that he believed nothing of what he was hearing.
“I don’t know how to open the vault and I don’t know how to get past all the security devices.”
“What do you know?” Frank snapped.
Gerard shrugged helplessly; he could tell without a word being spoken on the subject, that Frank believed him to be stalling.
“The security, the vaults, they’re all on a timer. No one can get in before eight-thirty in the morning.”
“That’s my job,” Ray cut in. “All we need from you are the daily security codes and the guard duty rosters. We know the routines and passcodes change daily, your job is to give us the information. And it better be accurate, Way, or your brother’s dead. Okay?”
Gerard swallowed hard and took a deep breath; it really didn’t need saying as many times as they had. He understood, but above all, he believed them.
“Yeah.”
“Okay,” Frank took a deep breath. “Pay attention, we’re doing this tomorrow night.”
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