CHAPTER 38
The three Kobalt men walk through the polished concrete halls of The Dollhouse as a unit. Kane believes he’s ready to face whatever Rowan gives him, but Rowan is resolved to punish him for disrespecting the creator of all three men.
Lennox follows them as his lifelong apathy begins to fade.
The death of the child has broken the cage where his emotions were kept.
A loss, he thinks as well as feels. It’s deeper than a loss of life when he’d rationalized the abuse the boy suffered.
He told himself it was the lesser evil to ignore the boy, in turn preventing Rowan from becoming curious about him.
The guards were taking liberties when they won, so he forced himself to suffer through touching another human to win those nights, providing a small comfort to his nephew.
But he has one nephew left. He silently vows to protect Kane from the sickening violence of their family, while Rowan promises the opposite as he leads them to the coldest area of the purpose-built cabin.
He smiles under his mask when he sees the monster he’s nurtured obediently sitting in the corner on a barstool.
Sasha delicately pushes her finger under the mask covering her features. The face of the last person who angered her master is beginning to rot so she watches Kane, assessing his features.
A nice mask, she thinks to herself.
But Lennox says, “Down.”
She scowls at him, even though he can’t see her through the rotting flesh.
She still obeys, out of loyalty for the man who found her on the brink of death.
Due to her lexical–gustatory synesthesia, his words have always tasted like chocolate.
A taste she has come to enjoy and only associate with Lennox.
“What do you want me to do?” Kane asks.
Sasha cocks her head to side as she slowly flutters her tongue against the inside of her lip to distinguish what his voice tastes like.
It takes a moment, but when she manages to find the word, she spits the taste out.
He tastes like ash, the tip of a cigarette or a cigar.
Rowan switches the taste for one of her favorites as he gestures to the plastic tarp she hung to separate the room. “Walk ahead, dear nephew.”
Blood, she hums in her head. Master tastes like blood.
Her humming gets louder when he pulls the tarp aside for Kane to view his project.
He looks at Sasha from the corner of his eye.
The mask confuses him because of the make-up she’s applied to disguise the rot.
He narrows his eyes at the curling edges at her hairline, but he tells himself it’s badly made.
After all, who would assume anyone would consensually cut off the faces of her victims because she can’t bear to see her own features?
Kane focuses on Rowan again, but what he sees turns his stomach. The guard he disfigured has succumbed to their injuries as they lay face-down in the middle of another tarp covering half of the room. Livor mortis has begun to set in, the tarp reflecting the purple-red discoloration of their cheek.
Kane is excited about the prospect of having a release for his anger. Something to plug his grief into, but Rowan’s request isn’t for something as simple as cutting up a dead body.
“Entertain me, dear nephew,” he says, clasping his hands together in front of him.
Lennox steps in front of Kane. “He’s a boy. Give him a task he can accomplish.”
Kane doesn’t allow his uncle to protect him as he na?vely asks, “Where are the knives?”
He’s tortured people before, gotten rid of the evidence when his anger took over while working for Niko. He never felt remorse for the position they found themselves in, but he’s grossly misunderstanding what’s being asked of him.
Rowan smiles under his mask as he stares at his biological son, awaiting the horrified expression he craves. “They are no use when he’s already dead. However, you may use protection to prevent creating a defective bond when you return to your wife.”
Kane’s mind is already slowed due to mourning, so he blinks, waiting for something to clear up his confusion because the only protection he can think of is a condom. A condom and a dead body shouldn’t be used in the same sentence.
Sasha becomes impatient, whining, “I’m hungry.”
“A little longer, sweet thing,” Rowan comforts her as he stares at Kane. “After the entertainment, you’ll be fed.”
There are two choices in front of Kane.
Kill everyone in this room. Consequently, lose Delilah forever. Grieve another person with the guilt of being the one who ruined every member of his family.
Stick to his plan. Convince Rowan he’s one of them and then, when they’re all comfortable like he was, ruin them like they have him.
Lennox knows what is being asked of Kane, how the deathly cold violation haunts a person. It’s why he can’t stand the feeling of skin-to-skin contact, so he whispers to his twin, “I’ll take the punishment.”
“No,” Rowan snaps. “He’s either strong enough to join us or too weak, so he needs to go back into the box.”
The box is what the prisoners called solitary confinement.
The pain of the ninetieth day Kane spent in the box would make him agree to anything.
He stupidly seals his fate as he curls his fingers over Lennox’s shoulder, then squeezes.
“This is mine as much as it’s yours. Don’t be jealous because I escaped becoming a reflection, unlike you. ”
Sasha is bored, hungry, and annoyed as she continues watching them. She takes a small foil package from her pocket, throwing it towards Kane in an effort to make him hurry up so she can eat. It slides across the stained concrete, stopping a few inches from his boot.
He looks at the ring outline pressing against the sealed packaging, knowing there’s no escaping what he has to do, but he moves slowly, delaying the inevitable sin he’s about to commit to the dead body.
When he was younger, he heard people say you shouldn’t speak ill of the dead. Those who have left deserved respect. Isadora always fell silent when the topic would come up. Now he understands why as he picks up the condom.
Lennox attempts to offer him some dignity as he walks over to the corner where Sasha is seated. Rowan remains in front of him, waiting for him to lower his zipper and defile a rotting body.
Don’t watch me, Kid. Kane sends up a prayer to heavens he doesn’t believe in. Fly away, my beautiful butterfly.
He slowly tilts his hips to the side before he undoes his zipper. He’s not hard though.
“Are you shy?” Rowan laughs, stepping closer to place his hand on Kane’s shoulder. “We’re all family. There is no need to feel nervous with kin.”
Kane’s breathing escalates as he stares at his reflection while a hand that does not belong to him wraps around his length.
Rowan moves slowly, stroking him, rubbing his thumb under the crown while Kane begs his body not to react.
Blood flow to the appendage increases, taking his autonomy with it.
There’s no intrusion, but like the ninetieth day, he’s being violated again while he’s frozen in place, waiting for it to be over.
The reflection morphs into Asher, who tells him, “This is Delilah’s fault.” He closes his eyes to escape it, yet the voice is in his mind, so there’s no way to block it out or drown the false accusations. “Look what she’s doing to you again.”
She didn’t do anything, he silently argues back. She’s innocent.
He’s stronger than he’s ever been as the wet rubber replaces the hand working over his length.
“There, dear nephew.” Rowan pats his shoulder, pushing him forward. “You’re ready now.”
Sasha rolls her eyes at how long he’s taking, stamping her foot on the bottom rung of the bar stool. “I’m. Hungry.”
For the first time since she was accepted into the Kobalt family, she’s reprimanded as Rowan barks, “Patience! This is not about you, silly girl.”
Her chin drops to her chest at his tone and Lennox attempts to soothe her as he gently rubs circles on her back. He dips his head, whispering, “You won’t starve, zuzúni.”
The tarp crinkles under Kane’s mechanical steps until he pauses, looming over the dead guard.
Each shallow breath he takes fills his nose with the putrid smell of death and decay.
None of it is able to take away what he’s about to do as he folds in half, gripping the waistband of the guard’s pants.
When he tugs, exposing their lower half, he knows there’s no coming back from this.
What he doesn’t account for is just how cold it is as he picks up one of their thighs to make space to kneel between them. He closes his eyes, driving his hips forward. It’s not enough to block out the violation or how sinister it is.
Yet when that deathly cold seeps through the rubber barrier, Asher whispers, “He hurt Kid. Just. Like. This.”
“Yeah, he did,” Kane mutters back without moving his lips.
“He violated him. He’s the reason Kid isn’t with us anymore. Make him feel the same. Show him how much it hurts, Kane.”
The internal chants are a split of his personality, which once protected him while he was in isolation. He may be surrounded by people now, but he needs the same encouragement as Sasha waits for her turn to eat while Rowan watches on in pride.
Lennox is the only one who stares in horror and regret as Kane holds the guard’s hips for purchase, thrusting. The baby he felt protective over has successfully been ruined.
Rowan relishes in it as he slowly claps. “My boy, a natural.”
Not yours, Lennox thinks, unable to voice his opinion when the risk of the punishment will fall on Kane’s shoulders. He does what he always has, silently watch Rowan satisfy his curiosity.