Chapter 36 #2
I had that genuine care too, from both parents, from a sister too.
They loved me, wanted to understand why I was the way I was.
Lacey had pushed for psychiatric help, but I always fought back.
Should I feel guilty? I was a depraved, fucked up mess of a person, and they still showed me nothing but love.
I’d ruined so many lives, including the lady I could hear almost crying on the phone to her living son.
The prison called me uncooperative; I called them fucking idiots, and they threw me back into Cell Block A, into gen pop to rot with the masses.
Lacey tried so damn hard to get me to work with them, but I never would.
It was my penance, my punishment. I got to fester in this fucked up brain for what I’d done.
I almost missed it now, the predictability, the alone time of prison. How the thing I most wanted in the world was a shower, chocolate, a shot at freedom. A hug from my little sister.
For a few short minutes, I’d had that freedom. Fresh air, trees, unshackled.
Adrian had freed me from one prison and tied me to another, and I walked with him open and willing.
My mind drifted to thoughts of that tree, the roughness of the bark and the fresh chill in the air. He’d obviously finished his conversation with his mother while my mind was swimming, because Adrian was above me, arms crossed as he stared down at my very awake face.
He was dressed, looked well rested, his beard trimmed, his cheeks flushed in a healthy way, like he’d been for a run and a smoothie.
“You won, then?” I said, unable to sit up, very aware of how stuck I was.
Throughout his whole conversation with his mother, I’d only been able to blink.
This was it. I was done fighting for anything else.
I’d touched the fucking tree, breathed the fresh air.
Lived outside of those prison walls, if only for a few moments.
He nodded. “Another thing I managed to stockpile over the years I spent planning this was sedatives.” He looked away, then returned his gaze. “I won’t make the mistake of not keeping you dosed anymore.”
“But I can move a little.” I exaggerated a blink to show him.
He smirked. “Only because I want you to.” He sat down on the sofa, his feet next to me. He gave me a shove with the tip of his shoe. “I’ve been waiting for you to wake up for fucking ages.”
“Is this it?” I asked, realizing the full depth of how little I could move. My limbs were a mess, but I could turn my head if I focused, lift my fingertips a smidge. A complete lack of autonomy. Shit.
He nodded. “I’m going to take you to the workshop later, but I wanted you to see the full magnitude of the damage you caused me.”
My brow furrowed. Workshop? What was he about to do? Two emotions rippled through me, concern and fear, but a little bit of curiosity. He was such an interesting man, as broken as me… what might we do together?
He sat back, sipped a beer he pulled from a side table, and flicked on the TV, settling in for the long haul.
Home movies.
There were home movies playing, images of young boys having innocent fun, an older teenager walking across the stage to pick up his diploma, the camera panning to a younger Adrian, grinning and cheering.
Snippets of his life, of the love he’d lost in his little brother.
If he thought it would make me feel guilty, he was wrong.
“You were talking to your mother. Lying to her,” I commented after a long chunk of time passed with bursts of Adrian’s life crossing my eyeballs.
My body was numb, and I had the urge to fidget, but it wasn’t possible.
He kicked my head back to the TV, keeping his foot on my cheek so I couldn’t turn away again, grinding into my cheekbone.
“She’ll never know what I’ve done here,” he grunted. “No one will.”
“But they do know,” I said. “Or they sure as shit suspect based on her words.”
He pressed his foot into my cheek harder, making my teeth creak. “Shut the fuck up, it’s not your concern.”
A blaze of glory. I could see it now. That was his plan. He didn’t want to get out of this alive any more than I did. I laughed. It was a shit one, because my body was frozen and my face hurt, but there was a lightness in me.
This felt like it.
After all the twisting and turning, this was it. It was almost a relief. Freeing. I didn’t have to try anymore.
When the last video finished, a birthday party from what appeared to be only a few years before I came along, Adrian scooped me up and carried my limp body, not unkindly, through the apartment, through the theater, making sure not to bump me into any of the narrow corridors.
We drifted through like dancers, our final act.
“I don’t think there’s anything I can do to make you afraid,” he commented as he laid me on the workshop table, rough wood scraping my ass and spine. So many damn splinters in this ancient workshop. Didn’t matter.
“What about my sister?” I asked, having been reluctant to bring her up.
I still didn’t know what they’d done together, if she was even alive…
but if Adrian had killed her, it would be no secret.
He’d have used it in my torture, would have shown me pictures, brought some of her to me; I had no doubt about that.
No. Lacey, good, kind Lacey, was alive, was free and happy. I just needed to hear it.
It was obvious Randal was the first up close death Adrian had witnessed, participated in. It didn’t come lightly to him.
Hence this whole song and dance. He wanted to kill me, but despite all the threats and promises, he could never bring himself to.
“Lacey’s fine,” he said. “I blew her off. She wanted to date.”
That caused me to smirk, a warm one. She was always a massive flirt, happy and open, and nothing like me. Of course, she would try it on with this handsome man.
“Make sure she lives a good life,” I asked, soft, vulnerable.
Adrian looked at me, our eyes locking, heat between them. He didn’t say it. He didn’t need to.
He wouldn’t be around to fulfill that promise either. With a clenched jaw, he picked up a syringe and slid a needle into my vein. Warmth flooded up my arm, and I felt myself grow even slacker.
"I enjoyed myself," I murmured as the room slipped away, Adrian's face swimming in and out of focus, darkening around the edges.
My mouth stopped working; my eyelids grew heavy.
"Me too," I thought I heard him say, but then it all disappeared. Everything I anticipated might happen here, none of it did. There was just… blankness beckoning. I'd watched many others go through this, wondered, begged them to tell me how it felt.
But nothing. There was just nothing. I think Adrian's palm warmed my cheek; maybe he said something, maybe he moved me.
I let myself relax into it.
This was my death.
I sighed.