10. Chapter 10 #2
“What does that matter?” I ask as I glance back and forth between Blaine and her again. He trains his eyes on the floor, avoiding looking at me, and that makes me really nervous.
“What’s the auction for?” I ask with a little more urgency.
“People…” she says as she looks up at me with a devilish smirk on her lips.
“What? What does that even mean? Like slavery?” I ask, recoiling at the thought.
“Something like that,” she says as she steps back and grabs the handle of the door. “We’re hoping to get a nice offer for you two. Something to offset what we had to pay the whores we got you from.”
I lean down, carefully propping Gatlin up on the stairs. I glance up at her as I finish getting him leaned against the wall enough that he won’t fall over. “What do you mean? He isn’t even eighteen yet.” I growl at her.
She shrugs her shoulders with a carefree air about her. “And? We’re hoping to get a better deal if we sell you together. He’ll be eighteen in less than a year, so it’s close enough. They can collect him on his birthday.”
Less than a year until he’s eighteen? That means it’s been almost a year since the night I was sick. I can’t remember anything that’s happened between now and then, and that’s just another thing that’s making me freak out. What happened to all that time? Are they drugging me? What about Gatlin?
“We’ll see you after the event, Lancey boy. Have fun.“ She purrs as she slams the door closed, locking both of us down here for the first time. I race up the stairs, banging my fist against the door frantically.
“You can’t fucking do that!” I yell out into the darkness. “He’s not an adult yet!” Nothing but silence comes from the other side of the door.
“I won’t go!” I threaten as I continue to pound on the door. “I won’t leave him!”
Still, nothing but silence echoes into the darkness, and I’m getting more distraught by the second.
“Please!” I beg, “I can’t leave him!”
“Lance!” A voice pierces the silence as my face starts to sting. “Lance!”
My eyes pop open, and confusion washes over me as I clutch the fabric attached to whoever is in front of me.
My eyes dart around the room as my brain tries to figure out where I am.
It’s night, but there’s a blinding light shining through the dark room.
Someone pops my cheek with their hand again and I snap my attention to him.
“It’s okay. It’s me. It was just a dream.” He says softly as he holds my face between his palms. I close my eyes, letting his touch ground me as I pull in a shaky breath.
“R—Roman…” I plead as I tug him closer to me by his shirt. He drags me against his chest, his wet hair soaking my shirt.
“What the fuck happened, pretty boy?” He asks as he leans back to glance down at me. “I only left long enough to wash off. I was getting dressed and I heard you from the bathroom.”
I shake my head, my thoughts still jumbled.
None of the pieces from the dream make any sense.
Some parts of it were memories and some parts didn’t actually happen.
It’s all so muddled up that I can’t even begin to explain what was going on.
The dreams are getting worse. They’re more vivid.
More realistic. More often. It feels like my brain is trying to tell me something, but I just can’t figure it out.
Whatever it is, it’s right there, just out of my reach.
“They—” I have to clear my throat to continue.
“I… I…” I shake my head again. What do I even begin to say?
Roman doesn’t know anything about where I came from or the kind of shit that I’ve lived through.
He’s probably been through things just as appalling, almost everyone that I’ve managed to call a friend here has been, but even then, how do you begin to talk to someone about things like that?
‘Hey, I was forced to live in a basement, in the pitch black, all alone for weeks at a time just because my father had an affair and conceived me and my half-brother. I rarely got fed and only was only able to get water from a spigot in the wall. Oh, and I was forced to piss and shit in the floor and had to use the same spigot I drank out of to rinse my hands and force feces down the drain in the floor. Again, with no lights. Fun times.’
No. Fuck no. I’m not telling him that shit.
“It’s okay. We’ll talk later.” He says as he stands up and pulls on my hand. “Let’s get you washed off, and then we’ll get in bed. Okay?”
His face is scrunched with worry, and it still feels weird to see anything other than disdain or disproval lining his features. I really don’t think I’ll ever get used to him being nice to me, but right now it feels too comforting to waste time second guessing.
“ I can’t st— I have to work in the morning.
” I argue as he pulls me toward his room.
We’re about ten steps away from the door, and I can feel panic rising in my chest, but I don’t really know why.
It’s irrational and completely uncalled for, but this is the closest I’ve ever been to Roman’s room.
It feels like this is the final threshold, you know?
Seeing what lies on the other side of that door could change everything.
What if I walk in there and he’s got some fetish dungeon, or worse, what if I walk in there and it looks completely normal?
Or God forbid, cute? What if the things I see in that room change the way I see him forever?
I don’t know if I can handle that right now. Not today.
He reaches for the doorknob, and I take the moment of distraction to yank my arm from his grip. When he turns back toward me, his expression laced with confusion.
“I can’t stay, Roman. I have work in the morning.
” I explain as I take a few steps back toward the living room.
“I… Umm, I’ll text you, okay?” I clarify with a nod.
I try to come off more confident than I am, because the truth is that I have no fucking clue what I’m doing anymore.
Everything in my life feels like it’s crumbling beneath me, and I just need a second to gather all the pieces.
I’m on my knees scrambling around as I try to gather all the pieces.
It’s been raining glass, though, so it feels like I’ll never find the pieces that actually belong to me.
I’m just using my bloody hands and misty eyes to make the mess worse.
“Lance…” He says sternly, but don’t give into him.
I’m not giving into him. I want this, I really do.
So bad that I’ve spent months deluding myself into thinking that maybe I could have it in the future.
That’s the thing though, I knew I was imagining some delusion of grandeur.
I was aware that I wanted Roman, that I was trying my best to coax him into wanting me, but in the back of my mind I knew that I wouldn’t ever actually have him.
No matter what I did. In the same way I know the earth is round and the sky is blue.
I was positive that we’d never get this far.
Except I was wrong. Apparently. Now, less than twenty-four hours later we’re having dinner together and cuddling on the couch. He’s trying to give me a shower and put me to bed. In his bed, like I’m some priceless thing that he’s cherished his entire life.
I’m confused. I’m exhausted. I’m disoriented. My entire world is tilting, all the things I thought I knew are shifting, and I can’t— I just need a second to catch my breath.
“No,” I shake my head, this time with more certainty, as I step back again. “I have to go.”
His shoulders droop, his body slumping in defeat as I take the last few steps into the living room.
“I’ll text you, okay?” I offer warily.
“If you need any—”
“It’s okay. I’m fine. Really.“ I insist.
I’m not fine.