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Mikey had manoeuvred himself into a sitting position and thought about his kidnapper, who was, quite bizarrely upstairs cooking them both a meal. He had seen two sides to this man, two very different sides and wondered if either were genuine or an exaggeration of aspects of the real person.

In his job as a prosecution lawyer, Mikey had met a lot of criminals. Indeed, it was why he originally thought he had been kidnapped; that someone he had sent down was now exacting his revenge. He had moved with his career and home was now Chicago where, he had to admit, he was a lot more careful when opening doors. It had simply not occurred to him to do the same at Gerard’s and he had paid the price. Still, these men appeared not to know him as a lawyer and had no personal axe to grind. They simply knew him as Gerard’s brother; their hostage to force Gerard to help them break into the bank.

Despite the people he met professionally largely being criminals, he was the first to admit that as a prosecution lawyer, he never got to see anything other than the crime facts and the evidence. The only time he ever saw the defendant was in the courtroom. That wasn’t a failing on his part, that was just the way it was done; only the defence lawyer got to meet his client. Mikey thought about the story the man had told earlier about his arrest and wrongful conviction of assisting an armed robbery. He wondered too if he had sent any innocent men to prison in the attempt to win a case. The problem with being any sort of lawyer is the inability to draw conclusions and act upon them. If he thought a man was innocent but was assigned as prosecutor, he still had to make the case. Of course it was exactly the same for defence lawyers forced to defend people who were plainly guilty. A good defence lawyer could have a guilty man freed if he put a better case than his opponent. Equally, as had been the case with his kidnapper, a weak defence lawyer could effectively send a man to prison for a crime he didn’t commit. The system was flawed, but he hadn’t realised how much until now.

Mikey had never met anyone quite like him before and, because of all of this and more, he wanted to know more about him. One of his personas, he felt, was an act or, at the very least, an exaggeration and he wanted to know which. One minute he believed he knew, the next he was uncertain again. Mikey was unable to shake off the memory of their first meeting; he had been terrified and the man had only scared him more. Worried for himself and Gerard, Mikey had cried himself to sleep as the fear had consumed him. But then, if only to confuse him more, the conversation they had had earlier was touching and he really felt that he had been granted an insight into the real man.

His softer side seemed genuine enough, but Mikey was no fool, he had long since worked out that the man had an eye for him. Was the softer side the act for his benefit? An attempt to gain his affections? Mikey was certainly interested in him, but not in the way he wanted him to be, it was one of the reasons he had mentioned his ex-girlfriend. Momentarily, the man had seemed overwhelmingly disappointed, but had quickly recovered. Mikey got the impression that it had happened before.

Stirred from his thoughts, Mikey looked up as the door opened again and he heard what had become the familiar sound of his kidnapper’s footfalls on the stairs. As odd as it seemed, he was actually quite pleased to see him descending the stairs. Mikey wouldn’t deny that he was hungry, but he knew that wasn’t the sole reason.

Now he was at the bottom of the stairs and Mikey was no closer to knowing the real man but he was intrigued. There was, however, something he needed to know first and foremost.

“What’s your name?” Mikey asked only to receive a surprised expression from Frank.

It had not occurred to him that he hadn’t divulged that piece of information. His brother knew, he’d even managed to remember it, but he realised now that he had never actually told Mikey. All that talking and he’d never even given him is name.

“I was thinking about you and it suddenly occurred to me, I don’t know your name,” Mikey explained.
“You were thinking about me?” Frank replied fighting to hold back the smile that was desperate to show itself.
“Wondering which is the real you?” Mikey clarified.
Frank took a deep breath as he knelt in front of Mikey.
“That’s a fair question,” he replied, understanding the point he was making. “And in answer to your other question, my name’s Frank.”

Mikey gave a slight nod by way of acknowledgement as Frank unlocked the cuffs around Mikey’s ankles.

“Aren’t you afraid I’ll run? Or attack you?” Mikey asked surprised at the gesture.
“You’ve got nowhere to run to,” Frank stated in a matter-of-fact tone. “All the doors and windows are locked, the phone is disconnected,” he shook his head. “I’m not stupid, Mikey.”
Mikey sighed and looked down. “No, but would it kill you to make a mistake once in a while?”
Helping Mikey to his feet, Frank appeared to give the question some thought.
“Yeah,” he nodded, “it probably would. I told you, Mikey, I’m not going back to prison. I told you what they did… what they do. I can’t take that again.”
“Oh come on!” Mikey scoffed. “You’ve been hitting on me all night! I know what you want from me, what this meal’s all about!”

Frank’s eyes widened in fury and he slammed Mikey back against the wall, pulling the gun from his pocket and pushing the barrel into his neck below the jaw line.

“You think it’s okay?” he yelled. “You think they can do that? You think I should like it? What fucking planet are you on!”
“B..but…” Mikey stammered. “If you like… I… I’m sorry…”

Frank calmed slightly, forcing himself to explain; it was, after all, a common misconception.

“If a woman likes men, do you expect her to enjoy being raped?”
“No!” Mikey replied instantly, suddenly understanding the point Frank was making. “I’m sorry! I’m really sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

Frank took a pace back and stared at the man standing before him, handcuffed, scared and, on this topic, utterly clueless.

“Upstairs,” Frank ordered.
“Why?”
“Just move!” he yelled unhappily.

Without another word, Mikey moved to the foot of the stairs but hesitated as he placed his right foot on the first step.

“I’m sorry, Frank, I…”
“Just…” Frank took a deep breath, indicating with the gun for Mikey to climb the stairs.

As he headed out of the basement, Mikey turned. Frank wasn’t even looking at him, it would have been so easy for him to kick him back down the stairs and make his escape.

“Don’t even think about it,” Frank growled, as if reading his mind. “Just turn left and head for the kitchen.”

Mikey frowned; Frank had everything under control, as ever. Making the short walk to the kitchen, Mikey’s lips turned up at the delightful smells coming from the oven and stove.

“Sit down at the table,” Frank ordered.

Mikey wanted to be scared, he wanted to be angry, but all he felt was an unexpected distress borne of upsetting Frank. This man had kidnapped him, threatened him, had him beaten; why was he… why could he be troubled that he had hurt his feelings?
As he sat, he felt Frank reattach the cuffs around his ankles before freeing his hands. Mikey gently massaged his wrists as he looked up, contrite and concerned as Frank went about the kitchen, finishing off preparing the meal in silence.

“I can’t work you out,” Mikey said eventually as the silence grew too much.
“I’m complex,” Frank replied by way of explanation.
“When I said I was thinking about you, I was trying to work out which was the real you; the tough bank robber or the gentle guy I spoke to earlier. I’m no closer to working that out.”
“You’re an idiot!” Frank scolded as he withdrew some plates and bowls from the cupboard.
“Excuse me?”
Frank placed the crockery on the counter and turned to face Mikey. His expression was one of tired disbelief.
“I said, you’re an idiot.”
Mikey’s eyes widened as Frank turned back to serve the meal he had prepared.
“Erm…” Mikey began hesitantly. “Could you qualify that?”
“Yes.”
“Are you going to?”
“No.”
“Why?”
Frank turned again; he looked angry again.
“If you think you’re not an idiot, work it out!”

Mikey sat in silence as Frank brought a mixed mushroom pasta with the delicate aroma of tomatoes, basil and oregano to the table, followed by a colourful salad and warm bread. Mikey’s mouth watered just from the smell of it but as much as he wanted to try it all, he wanted to clear the air with Frank more.

“You were sent to a terrible place, you didn’t deserve to be there. They did appalling things to you and I’ve trivialised the horror of it by assuming it’s okay because you like men.”

Frank slid into the seat opposite and smiled.
“Don’t let it go cold.”

The pair began eating in silence, but it wasn’t long before Frank resumed the conversation.

“So, when you’re not being kidnapped, what do you do?”
Mikey paused; his fork hovering over the bowl, his eyes wide in shock that Frank had asked the question he dreaded.
“What?” Frank asked suspiciously. “Are you a cop?”
“No!” Mikey answered, possibly a little too quickly.
Frank frowned. “Are you going to tell me, or will I find your name on Google?”
Mikey’s shoulders sagged at the question. His name would almost certainly turn up on most search engines as a partner in his firm. He had no choice but to be honest.
“I’m a lawyer.”
Frank placed his fork down in the bowl and stared unblinking at his hostage.
“Damn!”
“You’re going to kill me, aren’t you?”
Frank pondered the question.
“Well, you were right earlier. I was kind of trying to seduce you, but I get the feeling that’s not on the cards. That makes it difficult. I really don’t want to kill you so, I guess we’ve got a problem, Mikey.”
“What if I say I won’t report you?”
Frank grinned. “Sure! And I’ll ask Santa and the Easter Bunny to join us, shall I?”
“I’m serious!” Mikey protested.
“I’ll bet you are, until you’re out that door.”
Mikey chewed his lower lip; it seemed as though a thousand thoughts were flying around inside his head, each one grinding to a sudden halt as Frank lifted the gun into view.

“In answer to your question, I’m both of the people you’ve met. Not a schizophrenic, just a basically nice guy in a ruthless job with a strong sense of self-preservation. I don’t want to kill you, Mikey, I really don’t. I’ll find a way, if I can, but don’t try to escape. If you leave me with no choice then the decision’s made for me. Understand? Play along and you stand a chance; you and your brother, okay?”

Mikey nodded, uncertain over whether he could trust him to keep to his promise. But then, it didn’t seem as though Frank had given him much of an option.