Chapter 3
LOCATION UNKNOWN
It was hot. Kaydon shifted, adjusting his seatbelt. The car rocketed down the highway, weaving in and out of traffic. Seth leaned into him, and Bryson stared out the darkened window.
“Hey, man, it’s hot back here. Can we crank up the air?” Kaydon asked.
The man driving made eye contact with Kaydon in the rearview mirror.
“Broken,” the driver said, “but there are some waters in the middle console.”
Seth moved to grab some. Twisting the top, he took a long sip before throwing one to Bryson and handing another to Kaydon.
Kaydon noticed the driver was watching them. Sweat broke out on the back of his neck, and Kaydon put the cold water bottle behind him, hoping that if his neck cooled off, the rest of him would too.
“If you can’t handle this, you’re gonna have a hell of a time in Mexico,” Bryson said, jabbing him with his elbow.
Kaydon just gave him a lopsided smirk.
The driver was still watching him.
“Might want to hydrate a little before you get on the plane,” the driver said.
“Maybe keep an eye on the road, friend,” Kaydon said.
The eyes dipped out of view.
“K?” Seth said, putting a hand on his leg.
“You okay?” Seth said quietly so only he could hear.
Kaydon nodded.
Bryson sipped his water.
The car slowed, the click of the turn signal, and then the car turned.
Another soft click, and they turned again.
Kaydon looked around.
Where were they?
The heat was killing him. Taking his seatbelt off, he reached into the middle console, grabbing two more bottles of water. The cap turned easily, and he took a long sip and stopped.
Something wasn’t right.
He looked at Seth, who was sagging into his seat. Eyes half closed. His empty water bottle hanging loosely in his grip. Kaydon moved his hand, stopping Bryson from taking another sip.
Eyeing the contents, Kaydon saw Bryson had already drunk about half.
The car turned again and then slowed to a stop.
Kaydon glanced at the rearview mirror, looking into that pair of eyes again.
“We are going to have trouble from you, big boy, aren’t we?” the driver said just before the doors to the back seat were opened.
Kaydon woke up covered in sweat. The cold cement did little for the furnace that radiated from his core.
He had failed.
Again.
“K?” Seth’s voice broke through his fog.
Kaydon cleared his throat.
“Hey, Killer.”
He tried to erase the pain from his voice. Seth didn’t need to worry about him. It was Kaydon’s job to worry.
“You were having a nightmare,” Seth said.
Kaydon tried to sit up without wincing. The cells were small: about four feet by four feet. Far too cramped for him to comfortably lay down.
“Was I?” Kaydon said. “I don’t remember it,” he lied.
Kaydon glanced around the room, clocking the empty cell. His stomach churned.
“They came and got him about a few hours ago,” Seth said, seeing his eye line.
The cell bars pressed against the back of Kaydon’s head. As far as he could tell, the room they were kept in was in a basement. Four cells with unfinished walls, a light hung in the center of the room. That and a small drain on the cement floor were the room’s only decorations.
There was no sunlight, but Kaydon estimated they had been here for about a month. Maybe more. It was hard to keep track.
Regan had made his presence known early on. Of all the people to kidnap them, Kaydon had to admit Regan wasn’t even a thought. But in the end, what did it matter who it was? Torture was torture.
The why was a question for once they got out of here. For now, Kaydon had his hands full with getting through each day.
The first week had been rough. One of the hardest.
Silently, they had agreed not to talk about it.
Clearly, Regan had been excited to have them, but no one had expected the special attention and violence he’d displayed towards Bryson.
It was obvious to Kaydon that they were not his first tenants in this basement.
But one thing he was sure of, they would be his last. Kaydon just needed to wait for Bryson’s signal.
A key turned in the room’s lock, and the deadbolt creaked open. The sound of steel scraping against the floor filled the space.
Kaydon and Seth stood up.
One guard trailed Bryson’s entry.
Eyes hard, Bryson twisted out of the man’s grasp, stepping into his open cell.
Kaydon watched as Bryson stared down the man locking his door; watched him keep up the glare until the door shut. Kaydon’s eyes followed the trail of the door’s path carved into the concrete.
Bryson’s shoulders sagged and he sank to the floor. He gave Kaydon and Seth a weak smile before turning onto his side and curling into himself.
Kaydon didn’t remember exactly how or when it had happened.
One day, Regan had just taken Bryson out for one of his little play sessions and left Seth and him behind.
Bryson had come back, pupils black, body stiff.
They didn’t ask each other what happened.
What was the point of making one another relive it?
But Kaydon had wanted to ask.
After that, Regan didn’t come for Seth or Kaydon anymore. He only came for Bryson.
Kaydon watched the rise and fall of Bryson’s back. He was going to be sick. Kaydon rubbed his fingernails up and down his forearm.
He was happy that Seth was being kept safe.
But Kaydon would have given anything for it to be him with Regan and not Bryson.
Warmth spread across his arm where he was itching.
Looking down, he saw crimson blood pooling up where he had broken skin. His arm was raw and red. If the pain hadn’t stopped him, the blood should have. But he didn’t want to stop. He wanted to bleed. Bleed for his brothers, even if it was at his own hand.
God knows he deserved it.
And it felt good.