Prologue #2
I blink at the cop’s outstretched hand but ignore it. Instead, I drop my hands to Rick’s squishy chest and use it for leverage as I stand, grimacing when I almost slip on his slick skin. His chest weeps red, and his big gut is all ripped open, spilling blood all over the place.
That’s gonna suck cleaning up.
Realizing I’m still naked from the waist down, I quickly reach down with my good hand and pull up my underwear and pajama pants, cheeks heating when it occurs to me that everyone just saw my penis.
I loved these pajamas, I think sadly as I scrub my hand on the already stained fabric. They have monkeys on them. I’ve had them since I started living here when I was five. They don’t really fit me anymore—I’m a lot taller now—but they’re mine, all mine. Plus, they’re the only pajamas I have.
“Can I get new pajamas?” I say, wrinkling my nose when I realize my arms are splattered red. It’s getting all crusty. I can feel it under my nails. Gross. “Can I shower too? It’s all sticky.”
A beat passes before Officer Ferris says, “Yes. You can have all of that as long as you cooperate.”
Frowning, I glance up at him. Why wouldn’t I? I wonder silently. I’m always a good boy. It was Rick who was bad. Rick who—
A weird sort of roaring sound floods my ears, cutting off the thought.
Officer Ferris is staring at me, no, into me, like he’s trying to figure something out. I stare back until my eyes start to cross, not sure what else to do. People are always staring at me, and it’s not nice. Makes me feel weird.
His throat bobs and he nods, like he’s found whatever it was he was looking for. But he doesn’t seem too happy about it as he turns his head, dipping his chin to talk into his walkie-talkie.
Vale and I had walkie-talkies once. I stole money from Louise not long after Vale moved in.
She was passed out in her recliner and never seemed to notice that the twenty-dollar bill from her wallet was missing.
Probably thought she spent it on more of that powder stuff she was always melting on a spoon.
It was the first time I got Vale to smile. He doesn’t smile often, or very big when he does. And he smiled even less so back then. But faint that it was, it might as well have been as bright as the sun when I showed him what I got us.
“Hey! What are you doing?” Louise rushes out, her nasally voice cracking.
I glance over to find two officers pulling her arms behind her. I hear the snick of metal—handcuffs. Her red-rimmed eyes are wide as they dart around. “I didn’t do anything wrong. I didn’t—”
“Ma’am, you have the right to remain silent…”
I let their voices fade as I turn to face Officer Ferris once more. “She was bad too.”
He nods and glances down, lashes twitching over his now hidden eyes. Lifting a hand, he wiggles his fingers, gesturing at something behind me.
Hands grab my arms from behind, and I widen my eyes. “What—”
“You sure about this?” someone asks as I feel the distinct sensation of handcuffs hooking over my own wrists.
Officer Ferris swallows and meets my gaze once more. “Just a precaution,” he says tightly, thickly, like he’s not happy about this. “You understand, right? We’re just doing our jobs. It’s to keep everyone safe. We’ll get this all sorted out at the hospital.”
Hospital?
I stare at him, ignoring the way my heart is now pounding in my ears. “But you’ll help Vale, right? And the others too?”
Either I’m imagining it, or the room grows eerily quiet. “Others?”
“Their room is in the basement. They have to share ’cause they’re the youngest.”
“How many?”
“Three. T-try not to s-scare th-them,” I hear myself chatter as the world around me slants, wobbling, darkening…
A staticky sound fills the room, piercing through some of the weirdness. A voice rattles off numbers, calling for backup.
I don’t feel so good. Why are my hands cuffed? I was good, I was a good boy…
Officer Ferris tells me, “Yes. They’ll all be taken care of. You have my word.”
Inhaling deeply, I nod. “O-okay.” I feel my lips move, but my voice is lost to me.
Turning as far as the cops let me, I search for Vale. He’s still seated on the floor, staring at nothing. A woman—a female cop I didn’t see before—squats down next to him, wrapping a blanket around his shoulders.
He’s shivering so bad. Is it that cold? Maybe he’s coming down with something. Maybe that’s why he came into my room in the first place—maybe he wasn’t feeling well.
“Hey, Valey,” I say.
At first, nothing.
But then he blinks and peeks up at me through his lashes.
“I’ll s-see ya later, ’kay?” I say with a smile. It feels stiff—everything kind of does—and I’m not quite sure why. “Everything’s gonna be bb-better now, you’ll see.”
His eyes widen and he throws his head side to side, his cheeks reddening. His mouth opens as if he wants to say something, but nothing comes out.
“Let’s go, kid,” Officer Ferris says gruffly, just as the cop who handcuffed me steps into my line of sight, blocking my view of Vale right as his big, nearly black eyes start to fill with something that looks a lot like fear.
My face scrunches up with a scowl, but I bite the inside of my cheeks to keep from throwing a fit. They’re going to help him, they’re going to help them all, just be good, that voice in my head assures me as they lead me out of the room and down the hall toward the steps. He’ll be okay.
I do hope they let us live together again though. Vale and me. Maybe if we tell them we’re actually brothers, they won’t separate us. I really, really don’t want to be separated from him. I feel twitchy at the thought.
Don’t they know he’s mine?
Who else will try to make him smile?
Who else will keep an eye on him while he sleeps?
The first floor is dark as we descend the steps, opening for us like a giant black pit, broken up only by the flicker of red and blue lights coming in through the thick slats of blinds covering the windows downstairs.
“...wets the bed sometimes,” I hear myself saying, my voice muffled, like it’s coming from down a long tunnel. “He’s scared of thunderstorms too. Chloe can’t sleep without her giraffe. And Frankie’s allergic to peanuts…”
I keep rambling, words babbling out of me, teeth chattering. “Vale has nightmares sometimes. And he hates ketchup. Oh, and his food can’t touch. He also probably won’t talk to you. It’s why he has to stay with me. I’m the only person he likes.”
It’s cold, much colder than upstairs in that stifling, sweat-ripe bedroom. Cold enough that I’m surprised I don’t see my breath when I pucker my lips and blow out air.
The pilot light must be out again.
That or they forgot to pay the bill…again.
I can’t stop chattering.
Somewhere, a grim female voice says, “Mike, I think you’re gonna wanna see this.”
“Jesus fucking Christ. Is that—are those…”
The growing distance combined with the roar filling my ears drowns out his horror, stealing whatever else is said.
Must’ve found the pictures. A choking sound bursts from my nose and lips.
No, not a choking sound.
A laugh.
A giggle.
Stupid Rick. Stupid, stupid Rick.
Officer Ferris mutters something into his walkie, just as his fingers on my shoulder tighten the faintest bit, holding me steady as we reach the bottom step.
It’s then, and only then, that the boy I left upstairs starts screaming.
Only then, as I fight against the cuffs and thrash against the too-big, too-rough hands dragging me out into the snowy, red and blue-lit night—my throat on fire as I scream raggedly for Vale—does the gravity of my actions and everything that came before begin sinking in.
What did I do?
What did I do?
What did I—