Chapter 26 #2
Both the nurse and Thomas were staring at him, trying to work out what was going on in his head.
“I really need the toilet,” Scott blurted. He swung his legs out of bed. Thomas steadied him, glancing at the nurse for help.
“I’m not a prisoner, am I?”
“Of course not,” the nurse scoffed.
Thomas tried to catch his eye. “What’s going on?”
“What’s going on is, I’m trying to go for a piss and you’re stopping me.”
Scott denied him eye contact.
“There’s individual toilets twenty metres down the corridor” – the nurse pointed which way to go – “you’ll see the signs.”
“Thank you,” Scott whispered.
Thomas still hadn’t released him.
“Thomas…”
Scott suspected it was the crack in his voice that made Thomas let go.
“I’ll be right back,” Scott said brightly, before leaving the cubicle.
He swayed on his feet at the bright lights and the flurry of movement as people rushed up and down the corridor.
So many people were talking, and their murmurs droned in Scott’s head.
He pushed into the first available toilet cubicle, locked the door and sat down on the seat.
It was the lock, the walls around him, and the solid floor-to-ceiling door that allowed him to break down.
He touched his head for the first time, running his finger over his scalp, before twisting it around a lock of hair Warren had missed. He bit his lip to catch a sob.
It felt horrible, tatty, rough.
Knuckles rapped against the door. “Let me in.”
Scott slumped. He should’ve known Thomas would follow him.
He bit his lip. “I’m fine, go check on Tim –”
“Tim was discharged hours ago. Carly came to get him.”
It had taken a long time for Scott to be assessed, then stitched and bandaged. The doctor hadn’t decided whether he wanted Scott to stay in overnight thanks to the concussion, which Scott wanted to hard pass on if the option came his way.
“Scott…”
“I’m… I’m too tired.”
“I’ll get the doctor.”
“No, that’s not what I meant. I’m… I’m too tired to keep it up.” He scrubbed his face, wiping his fingers against his lower lashes before tears could fall.
“Keep what up?”
Scott gestured to the fake smile despite Thomas not being able to see. “The…the mask.”
“Let me in.”
“But —”
“Please, Scott, you don’t need to lock yourself away to lick your wounds, especially when I’d lick them for you.”
Scott snorted. “That’s gross.”
“I know.”
Scott unlocked the door but didn’t lift his gaze to Thomas’s face when it opened. Thomas took a step inside, then secured the lock once again. He crouched down, resting a hand on Scott’s knee.
“Talk to me.”
Scott chewed his lip. “I hate it.” He touched the top of his head. “I can only imagine what it looks like.”
Thomas sighed. “It’ll grow back.”
“I know.” Scott blinked to dry up his tears, but they were persistent, and Thomas cupped his cheek to catch them. “I know, but…I couldn’t stop him. I couldn’t get him off of me, Thomas. He was going to –”
“He didn’t get to. He won’t get the chance to hurt you again.”
“It’s my fault.”
“No,” Thomas said firmly. “It’s not.”
“It is, Thomas. I told him he could do those things to me.”
Thomas leaned back, eyeing him.
“I wanted to give Megan a real chance to get clean and didn’t care about what happened to me. The first time we met –”
Thomas’s hand tightened on his knee. Scott held it and nuzzled into the palm on his face.
“He didn’t hurt me. He was rough…but that wasn’t what scared me.
It was the things he whispered into my ear, the sick things that he needed to say aloud to enjoy my body.
He was stronger than me; he could’ve done them, but he didn’t, just paid me the next day and left the door open for a repeat.
It was me who went after him, and when I got out, I went back to escorting.
I wanted to pay him back as soon as I could, but… ”
“But what?”
He lifted Scott’s chin so he had no choice but to look at him. Scott fixated on the blue of Thomas’s iris. He didn’t know when Thomas had taken the lens out but imagined it was in solidarity at Scott not being able to keep up his own mask.
“Scott?”
“That day I came to the auction with Anthony…”
Thomas stiffened. “He put that hideous necklace on you.”
Scott gasped, reaching for his throat. He slumped, pressing his forehead against Thomas’s when he stroked the pearls. Warren hadn’t ripped them from him.
“It’s still there,” Thomas confirmed.
“It wasn’t a necklace,” Scott whispered. “It was a shock collar. Warren had set a trap for me. I managed to get away, went straight to the police, but they weren’t much help, and later when I went home, Warren had left me something on my bedroom ceiling, an unhappy face in glow-in-the-dark ink.”
“He’d got inside?”
Scott lifted his head to nod. “So I went to you. I feel safe with you, and that’s not the mansion, or the gate, or the wall; it’s left over from when we were cellmates.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about Warren?”
“I thought you might…”
“Might what?”
“Think I deserved it.”
Thomas’s blue eye widened.
“He scared off my clients, and I didn’t want him to set me another trap like he did with Anthony, but he’s been watching us. He knew when we went to the beauty salon and when we got our nails done.”
“That drawing on the car?”
Scott nodded. “He was at The Frog you need to rest, but you won’t lie down. I swear I won’t go anywhere; I’ll watch over you while you sleep. Nothing will happen to you.”
“It’s not that, it’s…”
“What?”
Scott stroked a hand over his scalp. “It doesn’t feel very nice.”
“It hurts?”
Scott shook his head. “It’s cold. Itchy. Ridiculous, I know, but…” He touched the remaining clump of hair behind his left ear.
Thomas put both his hands on Scott’s head, soothing the skin. They were warm, and Scott smiled. “That feels nicer.”
“If I get in the bed with you, will you put your head on my chest?”
“Your bare chest?”
“My bare chest,” Thomas confirmed.
Scott nodded.
“Good.” He laced his fingers through Scott’s. “You need to rest.”
“There’s not much chance of that out there.” Scott gestured to the door and the corridor beyond.
“No,” Thomas admitted. “That’s why we’re going to get you discharged so I can take you home.”
“Home…”
“Home,” Thomas repeated, pulling Scott to his feet.