Chapter Twenty-Eight
Madelyn
My body feels heavy right down to my eyelids.
I wiggle my fingers and toes, trying to come to terms with the fact that I'm still here.
My lungs constrict, and I let out a quiet sigh.
He didn't kill me. He is also gone. Again.
I don't have to open my eyes to confirm it. I can tell by how empty the room feels.
That realization should relieve me. I'm worried that it doesn't.
“You are alive,” comes a voice that breaks up my thoughts and puts me on edge. My eyes flutter open, but that's all I do before Gateley appears before me. He ties the belt of his robe as if he had just put it on.
I push against the mattress to get up, only for Gateley to place his hand on my bare knee. He gently forces me back down. “What are you doing?” I ask, voice unsteady. My hands go to the sheets, and I quickly wrap them around myself.
Gateley smiles, seemingly unbothered by my actions. He lets my knee go. “I wanted to confirm Jackson was indeed telling the truth, and I didn't have another body to clean up.”
My mouth goes dry.
“I am shocked, I must say, Madelyn. And intrigued.” He lowers himself next to me on the bed. “It is not an easy thing to sway Jackson. What is it you do that makes that happen?”
I pull the sheets even tighter. Is he trying to come on to me?
Gateley’s eyes lower. “You don't have to worry, Madelyn. Jackson and I may share a body count, but we don't pass around our girls. “
“That's a relief,” I reply. Still wondering why he is here.
“You didn't answer my question.”
I wait for more, but Gateley says nothing else. He just stares, waiting, until I can’t take the silence. “Jackson's not swayed by me. He still intends to kill me tomorrow despite my best efforts.”
Gateley smiles and gets to his feet. “Is that what he says?”
My stomach flips, but I won't allow myself to feel hope now. “Why are you here?”
“To show you something.” He holds out his hand. I study him, looking into his cold eyes. The last thing I want is to be shown anything, but I am in no position to deny the headman of this place. With shaky fingers, my hand slips into his, and he pulls me to my feet.
“Jackson has lived a complicated life, as I hear so have you.” He places by hands on my shoulders and pushes me forward. I stumble at first, hesitant to do what he wants.
Still, Gateley continues to shove and eventually succeeds. We go toward the glass wall. “But one thing is for certain. He’s not going to murder you,” he whispers behind me. His breath moves the hair by my ear.
“You sound so certain....” I murmur.
“That's because I am.” We stop at the glass.
He shifts from behind me to press the button.
The neighboring room appears and gives way to Jackson's back toward me.
He stands in front of a painting made entirely of red.
His fingers stroke against the wall, leaving red trails behind.
My breath catches when I realize it's a sketch of my face and he's using the blood of the bodies beneath him to make it.
“See... He has you burned into his head. You consume him even more than his brother.”
I shake my head. “I never imagined this.”
Gateley comes to stand beside me as we both watch. “This is something he used to do often. Come in after my kills and paint. But the picture always comes out to be geometric. His focus is shifting.”
Jackson dips his fingers in the drying blood of the body closest and starts on my hair.
“He won't heal until he faces his demons. I can't do that for him. Same as me.”
“Yes.” He presses the button again, and then the glass goes black. “You will get your opportunity tomorrow, but Jackson also needs his.”
I can't help but feel a little disappointed Gateley didn't let me watch longer. Still, I should have known he had ulterior motives. “Go on,” I say. Besides, I can always watch Jackson once Gateley leaves.
“Don't try to talk him out of what he needs to do. The thought of revenge keeps Jackson going, and he's done a lot to ensure he gets to act on it.”
I point a finger at him. “Going after his brother will either get him severely hurt or killed.”
“Jackson can handle himself. He's ready,” his voice goes deep. The shift makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. “I want my old partner back, and I can't have that if he can't move past this mental block. Let him go.” He says as a command and not as a statement.
I stare at him in silence, trying to make up what I what to say.
In truth, I always figured Jackson would wreak havoc on his brother, but I also figured that I, most likely, would be in the grave when that happened.
Now, Gateley presents me with another possibility. One that's not exactly easy either.
He says, breaking up my thoughts, “I will tell Jackson to bring you back here after you handle your…situation.” “You'll be safe and out of prying eyes while he goes and handles what he needs to.”
“And if he doesn't come back?” I whisper.
Gateley smiles. “Then, Sam, you can have. She's been asking for a friend.”
Lovely… out of one cage and into another. This dungeon is not where I want to spend the rest of my life.
Gateley turns to leave without another word. And as I watch him disappear out of the door, I wonder if Sam's version of a friend is the one she's left bleeding out on the floor.