Chapter Text
Needs Must When the Devil Drives.
Jared couldn’t quite believe it but he was well and truly lost. He hadn’t seen a single building or street or shop front that he recognised in the last two hours and he, honestly, had no idea how this had happened. He’d grown up here, for God’s sake, how could he possibly be lost? Sure, he hadn’t been home in a couple of years but, still, how could the city have changed that much?
Jared turned the corner, groaning when he saw the grimy ‘Tooley Street’ sign for the third time that evening, and slammed his bag down on the floor. It was late and he was tired, and he just wanted to get some sleep. He was sure that if it hadn’t been the middle of the night, he would’ve have been able to find his way back to his hotel but, as it was, he resigned himself to fact that he wouldn’t see the place again until tomorrow.
Jared looked around, grimacing at the peeling paint and dirty windows surrounding him; this really wasn’t a part of London someone of his standing should ever have wandered into. But it wasn’t like Jared had many options now so he would just have to make do. He spied a little tavern tucked away at the end of the street and made his way towards it; Jared was sure he would at least find a bed there and, hopefully, a very strong whisky.
Jared pulled his jacket close against the biting wind as his long legs quickly ate up the cobbled street beneath his feet. Soon enough, he reached the inn but before he opened the door, Jared paused to stare up at the building’s chipped and discoloured facade and the old, weather beaten sign swinging above his head. He could only hope that the place was better kept on the inside than it was on the outside; taking a deep breath, Jared let himself in the door.
The tavern was hardly better lit than the street outside, but that wasn’t wholly unexpected given the lateness of the hour so Jared quickly made his way up the bar to ask for a room.
‘Of course, Sir, we’ve got everything you might possibly want here.’ Jared frowned at the girl’s provocative tone as he handed over his bag, but she was gone before he could say anything. Not a moment later, another girl had taken her place behind the bar so Jared just shrugged off the encounter and ordered a drink. In all honesty, as long as he got a room he couldn’t care less about how inappropriate the staff were. As soon as his whisky hit the bar top, Jared slid some coins to the new serving girl, picked up his drink and strode over to a chair in the corner; he was sure his room would be ready soon but, even so, he’d much rather sit comfortably in a chair than try to perch on a stool while he waited.
It wasn’t until Jared had settled back in the chair and his eyes had adjusted to the dark room that the first serving girl’s behaviour started to make a little more sense. Now, he could plainly see a girl straddling the lap of an older gentleman at the other end of the room and another knelt between a young man’s legs not two feet from his left. Jared turned his attention back to his drink and finished it off in one; he might be the black horse of his family, but this was going a little far, even for him.
So despite his tiredness and the fact he’d already given over his things, Jared hastily made his way to the door; it would do his reputation no good to be found in a place like this. But just as his fingertips touched the doorknob, there was a sharp cry behind him. Jared whirled round and saw a boy sprawled on the floor, his hand held to his cheek as he stared up at the angry looking gentleman standing over him. When it looked like the man was going to strike the boy again, Jared stepped forwards and grabbed the man’s arm, pulling it behind his back.
And suddenly, everything in the inn, in the brothel, stopped, and all eyes turned to him. Including those of the boy on the floor - wide and green and…stunning. ‘Get the hell of me!’ His captive yelled, struggling against Jared’s hold, but Jared wasn’t a small man by any means and it wasn’t hard for him to keep the man at bay. ‘Are you insane?’
‘Me? No. You, though, I’m not so sure,’ Jared replied as he looked down at quickly reddening hand mark on the boy’s cheek. He wrenched the man’s arm higher on his back at the sight and asked in as civil a tone as he could manage, ‘Now, if I let you go, are you going to attack the boy again?’
‘What the fuck do you care? He’s a whore, he’s nobody…’
Jared’s grip tightened and he was tempted, just for a moment, to break the man’s arm and show the brute first-hand what it was like when someone stronger used their power against him. However, before he’d decided what he was going to do, a small hand came to rest on his arm, ‘Sir, you need to let Lord Weatherly go now.’
Jared frowned as he looked down at the petite woman standing by his side. It was obvious from her appearance and the way she carried herself that she was the Madam of the house. Jared thought she might have been a beauty once upon a time, but now too many layers of make up and too hard eyes ruined any residual prettiness she might still possess. ‘Excuse me?’
‘You need to let him go. Lord Weatherly’s bought Jensen for the night and it’s none of your business how my customers want to spend their time.’
Jared stared at the woman in disbelief; surely she must care for the boy more than that? The lad couldn’t have been more than seventeen years old, and, in a place like this, he needed someone to look out for him. But as his eyes drifted back to the boy, still sprawled on the floor, Jared could plainly see the bruises that marred his fair skin – hand prints around his neck, rope burns around his wrists and probably a multitude of marks hidden under the boy’s clothes where Jared couldn’t see. ‘I’ll pay double.’ The woman’s eyes widened, ‘For the boy,’ he clarified, ‘whatever Lord Weatherly’s paid for him, I’ll double it.’
The woman’s eyes turned calculating and a slight smile pulled at her blood red lips, ‘Of course, Lord…’
‘Winchester, Samuel Winchester,’ Jared lied; he really didn’t need to bring the name of Padalecki into any more disrepute.
‘As you wish, Lord Winchester. A room will be made available for you once you’ve settled your bill for Jensen,’ the woman said, sending a subtle nod to the girl behind the bar.
‘Now, wait just a minute,’ Lord Weatherly began, ‘I’ve paid for that boy, I booked him weeks ago, and I’m not leaving here until I get my money’s worth.’
‘Well, Sir, if you would like to top Lord Winchester’s offer, I’m sure we could work something out,’ the Madam replied serenely and Jared couldn’t help but feel a little sick at how comfortable she was with selling the young boy, Jensen, to the highest bidder.
‘I shouldn’t have to, he’s mine, I’ve been using him for years,’ Lord Weatherly ranted and that was what finally convinced Jared to let the man go, unable to endure touching him any longer. Years? Jesus, how old had Jensen been when he’d started working here? And using him, like Jensen was some kind of…some sort of toy? Any residual doubts Jared might still have had about buying the boy for the night flew out the window at that; there was no way he was leaving him alone with this asshole.
But the Madam didn’t look at all moved by the Lord’s angry protestations; instead, she began to move away. ‘Don’t walk away from me, Miss Cohan,’ the second Lord Weatherly touched her arm, three large men emerged from the shadows and pulled him back. Jared wondered bitterly where they’d been when the Lord had been assaulting the boy on the floor. Lord Weatherly instantly deflated, obviously realising that he wasn’t going to get his way tonight unless he played the Madam’s game, ‘Fine, I’ll pay whatever you want. Just send the boy up to my room.’
The Madam’s eyes flickered to Jared, clearly expecting a counter offer from him, and while he was sickened to be drawn into such a cruel and heartless game, he answered nonetheless, ‘Believe me, I can top anything Lord Weatherly’s willing to pay for the boy.’
He risked a glance at Jensen then, where the boy was just staring up at them all with wide, terrified eyes and Jared’s heart clenched painfully in his chest.
‘So what shall we say, gentlemen, twenty pounds for the night?’
Jared’s eyebrows rose at the amount and Weatherly spluttered with indignation; it was a horrifically high price to charge in a brothel, but Jared was more than prepared to pay it. From the irate look on Lord Weatherly’s face, though, Jared hazarded a guess that the other man was not. ‘That’s outrageous, I’m not paying that kind of money for a gutter whore like him.’
Jared didn’t miss the way the boy flinched, and he glared at the Lord for a moment before he turned to the Madam, ‘Well, I am.’ He passed a twenty pound note to the small woman and tried to ignore the look of glee on her face as she snatched it away and stuffed it down her chest.
‘Thank you, Sir.’ Her eyes drifted to Jensen, ‘Jenny, take Lord Winchester upstairs and show him how very grateful you are for his generosity.’
Jensen was on his feet in an instant, his hand finding Jared’s and pulling him out of the main room and towards a flight of stairs. As he followed the boy, Jared felt a twinge of unease; he really wasn’t all that sure of what he was supposed to do now. He’d never hired a prostitute before, and in the front room, he hadn’t really been thinking of anything past keeping Lord Weatherly away from the boy.
He took a deep breath, consoling himself with the knowledge that at least he’d done that; whatever happened tonight, it couldn’t be worse than leaving Jensen with that terrible man…right?
NEXT.