26. Lennox
CHAPTER 26
LENNOX
ADHD – TWO FEET
Thud. Thud. Thud.
The metallic banging repeats on an endless loop. It feels like someone is chipping away at my brain with a jackhammer. Grimacing, I reach for my pillow to hide beneath it. I don’t even want to know what Xander’s doing to make that horrific noise.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
When I search for my pillow, all I find is cold cement. The aches and pains in my body soon flare to life with that realisation. It feels like I’ve been violently fucked by a bulldozer. More solid concrete lies beneath me, leaching any remaining warmth from my bones.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
“Don’t leave me in here with him!”
I have no desire to peel open my eyes to verify if this is some fucked up, lucid dream or not. I’m no stranger to nightmares, but would my brain be cruel enough to lock me up with that bitch? I’m not that masochistic.
“The feeling’s mutual,” I mumble groggily.
My muscles relax when her ceaseless banging on the door stops. Colourful cursing precedes the sound of footsteps. I’m unprepared to be kicked in the shin so hard, it makes me grunt. My eyes slam open, and bright lights sears my eyeballs.
“And here I was, hoping you were dead,” Ripley complains.
Squinting through my hazy vision, I can make out her silhouette. She’s looming over me, handcuffed wrists curled up to her chest, two furious mossy-brown eyes watching me with revulsion.
Definitely real.
Fucking perfect.
We’re in what appears to be a hybrid cell. The floor is made of pocked concrete, boasting too many dark stains that don’t bear thinking about, while the walls are lined with scratched, padded material.
Artificial light emanates from a panel built into the ceiling with several air events. This place is ancient. Every surface is scarred and dirty, unlike Priory Lane’s more modern facilities.
By contrast, Harrowdean’s Z wing feels like a final frontier for the doomed. Not even Incendia can be bothered to maintain this place. I’m sure far too many have died here for them to ever get it clean again.
“What happened?”
Ripley rubs a spot between her brows. “You don’t remember them drugging us?”
“Clearly not.” I wrestle myself up to rest against the padded wall. “How long have you been making a racket?”
“A while.” She shrugs. “You were out cold.”
Watching her shuffle to the other side of the cell and sink down against the wall, I try to sort through my fuzzy memories. It’s all a blur after some dickhead restrained me.
A quick search of my neck reveals a swollen bump from being needle stabbed. Ripley does her best to ignore me as I silently take stock of my injuries.
Her stupid friend put up a good fight for such a skinny bastard. He sure was determined to get his ass beat. Idiot that I am, I just had to take the bait. Now he’s likely dead, and I’m stuck here.
“Was this part of your plan?”
“Winding up in here with you?” Ripley snorts acerbically. “Far from it.”
“Either way, it was a pretty stupid plan.”
“Almost as genius as drowning someone in an abandoned pool? That sure looked accidental and non-suspicious. You really covered your tracks there, Nox.”
Head crashing against the wall, I let my gritty eyes sink shut again. “You have a point.”
“Please don’t agree with me. It’s unnerving.”
The last thing I anticipate doing is laughing. But still, the chuckle spills out of me. All these months of threats and counter moves, just for us both to end up buried in an inescapable hellscape. Together. Life’s irony really is a son of a bitch.
“Not much need for pretences in here, is there?” I sigh.
“I guess not.” She examines her arm, the carved letters pink and shiny with new scar tissue. “Do you think Noah’s alive?”
“It sure didn’t look good.”
I don’t have the energy to get up and hammer on the door, but even if I did, it would be a mistake. I made that mistake last time I woke up in a cell. Pissing off the overlords only worsened the next visit they paid.
It took several rounds of near-death beatings to get the message. Resistance is a deadly temptation. You don’t survive the Z wing that way. The clinicians and guards only see that as a challenge.
They’ll work harder to break your spirit just to grind out any speck of defiance to their regime. The trick is to switch off... To pain. To humiliation. To loss. Everything.
“Fuck.”
I crack open an eye. “What?”
Ripley hides her mud-streaked face in her hands. “Fuck!”
“Can you have a mental breakdown quietly?”
“This isn’t a game, Nox. Raine is upstairs all alone right now. I haven’t seen Xander either. Who is going to keep Raine safe?”
“Maybe you should’ve thought of that before setting me up!”
Yanking on her cuffs, she tries unsuccessfully to break the chains several times. Even going as far as to wedge her foot between the two halves and attempt to break them apart that way. It’s entertaining to watch her struggle.
Ripley winces at the sight of blood oozing down her tattooed arms. Her wrists are a raw mess, still healing from our last altercation. The cuffs are digging deep into the scabbed-over wounds.
“Goddammit,” she hisses. “You know what? You’re right. I shouldn’t have set you up. I’m not a piece of shit like you.”
“Debatable. What was the price?”
Ripley glowers at me, lips sealed.
“Come on.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“He didn’t agree to get himself beaten to hell for free. I get it… You provoke me, get me thrown in some dank hole and out the picture. Skip off into the sunset, right?”
“Something like that.”
“So. What was the price?”
Licking her lips, she ducks her gaze. “Enough pills to off himself with no questions asked.”
I whistle under my breath. “Now we’re talking. I guess he kinda got his wish. Still think you’re not a piece of shit?”
Eyes squeezing shut, Ripley tilts her head back against the wall. Stray tears break through the thick coating of mud on her face and leave winding trails.
“I wanted you dead… more than I wanted him alive.”
“Trading lives, huh?”
“You’re one to talk.” She sucks in an uneven breath. “I wanted to call it off. Now he’s dead anyway. His body will disappear along with his records. There will be no one left to ask any questions.”
Her broken hush causes some strange feeling to bloom in my chest. It isn’t pity. I could never pity someone like Ripley; she isn’t deserving of it. Neither of us are.
I understand what it’s like to commit evil in order to survive. To become the villain to keep others safe. It’s precisely why I tried to kill her. And why she did the exact same thing back.
“You know…” she trails off.
“What?”
“It’s just that… If we’d stopped trying to kill each other and focused on everyone else who poses a threat, we would’ve had a far better chance of survival.”
The bitch just read my mind.
But I won’t tell her that.
“Yeah, I prefer taking my chances.”
“Stubborn bastard,” Ripley chuffs.
“You know me.”
“Do you think I want to be locked in here with you? I’d much rather be facing whatever shit they have planned alone. You’re a liability.”
“Me a liability? You’re the reason we’re in here!”
“Because you’re still not sorry!” she snaps, like the words are a weapon she can wield.
I stare at her. “Sorry for what?”
“Holly was all I had. She became family.” Her voice splinters, leaking with despair. “And you took my family away from me to save yours.”
For all the sorrow and heartache we’ve inflicted on each other, I can look at my nemesis and admit to myself that it wasn’t worth it. I didn’t know what kind of monster my actions would breed.
She has become the threat I never could have anticipated. In many ways, I can see now that I masterminded my own downfall. It was always meant to be her.
Mouth clicking open, I’m not sure what words are forming. Nothing feels quite adequate to summarise the undeniably toxic importance we’ve come to mean to each other. At least hatred was simple.
But understanding?
Maybe even empathy?
I can’t possibly have those things for Ripley. Not for the woman who orchestrated our incarceration and torture. We ruined her life, but she perpetuated the cycle of violence the day she offered us up for slaughter.
Even here, she’s continued to destroy our lives from afar—ensnaring Raine in her web then somehow penetrating my best friend’s icy shell. We’ve tried our best to ruin each other without stopping to consider the greater threat.
Before I can figure out what to even say to her, the hatch in the door slides back. Eyes peer in, finding us both awake, before the hatch slams shut. The steel door clanks as it’s unlocked.
Shoulders set, a bastard with regimented military hair saunters in, his fingers hooked into his belt hoops. Cruel eyes scan over us.
“Always nice to have new arrivals.”
“You,” Ripley breathes in fear. “Harrison.”
“Nice to see you again, stooge. Or should I say, ex-stooge. Is the accommodation to your liking?”
His voice is lilting and playful in an entirely unhinged way. I’ve met his likes before. We’re in for a rough time if he’s in charge of our reconditioning.
“No?” He pulls his lips down in a dramatic pout. “Such a shame. Perhaps we should clean it up in here a bit before the fun begins.”
Stepping out of the cell, he huffs loudly while dragging a covered machine in with the help of another guard. This one wears a cap over his short hair, shading slightly effeminate features.
“Bath time!” Harrison exclaims.
Yet another guard enters the padded cell, this one bald and dead-eyed, joining the other one wearing a cap. Harrison leans against the machine, still smiling to himself.
“Strip them.”
“Not a chance.” Ripley gingerly draws to her feet.
I wobble, trying to stand. “Seconded.”
“I wasn’t giving either of you a choice.”
Each with an approaching guard to contend with, we both find protective stances. I’m still dizzy and can’t seem to get my legs to work. Ripley, on the other hand, is ready for a scrap with her knees bent and fists cocked.
I lose sight of her as baldie stalks towards me. He grabs my ankles then heaves, splaying me out on the concrete. Pain reverberates through me. I move to boot him in the leg, but when he pulls out a taser, trepidation causes me to tense.
I’m too weak to stop him from hitting me in the side. Electric slams into me, frying any sense from my struggling limbs. Pausing for a moment, he studies me before doling out another hit.
Jerking violently, spit bubbles spill from my mouth. My eyeballs feel like two overinflated balloons. When the tasing stops, I can’t even lift a finger to fight back.
The guard makes quick work of stripping off my sweatpants and boxers. Eyeing my cuffed hands, he reaches for a blade attached to his belt, using it to slice my t-shirt away.
“Excellent.” Harrison claps his hands together. “Let’s begin.”
I get a clear view of Ripley being slammed into the concrete hard enough to split her forehead open. She slumps, the fight draining out of her in time for the guard to strip her too.
We’re both left completely bare. It’s humiliating. With the help of his two sadists, Harrison uncovers his machine. Dismay unfurls within me as I recognise it instantly. It’s a huge water pump on wheels with industrial hoses attached.
Casting Ripley a look, I watch her moan and writhe. Blood is a thick curtain spilling from her forehead to cover her face. She swipes it from her eyes long enough to spot the horror that awaits.
“W-Wait,” she pleads.
Harrison waggles a finger at her. “No complaints now. Consider it a welcome spa treatment for our latest projects.”
The whirring of the pump’s engine fills the cell. Just as feeling re-enters my still-twitching extremities, I’m hit by the first blast of water. It’s an immense force, catapulting me back into the wall.
Another hose is unspooled and pointed at Ripley. She cries out at the impact. We’re both lashed with icy whips, our bodies battered and frozen by the water’s bruising power.
This isn’t my first time, so I know not to fight it. Slipping and sliding holds no benefit. It’s better to preserve strength for the hours this can go on for. But in typical Ripley fashion, she’s struggling.
“That’s it,” Harrison jeers. “Get nice and clean for your luxury vacation.”
Retaining any awareness soon becomes impossible. The constant onslaught is too much for anyone to bear. Pain combined with the cold temperature saps any defiance from me far faster than I anticipated.
I lose track of Ripley and the passing of time. All that exists is the violent hammering of water into my body, leaving bruises that feel bone-deep. A chill has settled in my bones, the only indication that I’m not dead already.
At some point, a familiar sense of delirium sets in. My eyes are squeezed shut to avoid the powerful spray, and behind my shut lids, images start to form. Flashes here and there, forming mental snapshots.
My grandfather resting in his armchair, surrounded by framed medals and family photographs. Daisy proudly handing him her grade three ballet exam certificate to be added to the collection. The way he kissed her head so proudly.
The years speed up.
This time, I see a teenaged Daisy, now stick-thin and sullen. Her pointe shoes buried in the bottom of a drawer. The way she made herself small and invisible in our grandfather’s presence. Her certificates disappeared.
I’m not sure when the onslaught of water ceases and a beating begins. Fists pummelling into me feel a lot like the beat of water anyway. Each painful blow fires more disjointed flashes at me as my mind contracts.
Things were blurry after Daisy’s death. Glazed-over by grief and shock. It wasn’t until I discovered her diary while clearing out her bedroom that I realised why she did it. The note made it clear enough. It’s all disjointed from there.
Handcuffs.
Psych evals.
An empty jail cell.
“Lennox. Snap out of it.”
Daisy’s rosy cheeks.
Seeing my childhood home burn.
Court cases and signed plea deals.
“Get it together, Nox.”
Fire.
Screams.
Salvation.
I gradually float back down to reality. It’s the same practised routine. A coping mechanism I perfected during months of this same treatment. I’d always come back once the reprieve came.
But Xander?
He never returned.
I open my eyes to Ripley crouched over me, something akin to a look of concern on her bloodied face. Wet hair is plastered to her head, the cut in her forehead still trickling.
She’s trembling from exertion, like it took all of her remaining energy to slide over to this corner of the cell. Fresh scrapes and bruises are scattered all over her.
An arm crossed over her bare breasts, she seems to be favouring her left side. My own body aches even more fiercely than before, promising fresh bruises to evidence the onslaught of kicking and punching.
A quick glance around reveals that we’re now alone, the machine vanished with Harrison and his grunts. Our tormentors have delivered their welcome gift and left. I really did check out.
“You back?”
I heave a breath. “Yeah.”
“Don’t die on me yet,” she jokes hoarsely.
“You wouldn’t like that?”
Ripley sighs, her weight braced on one cuffed hand. “No need for pretence, right?”
Hissing in pain, I breathe through the fire in my ribcage. “Do I look capable of that right now?”
“I guess not. Truthfully, I don’t want to die alone in here.” She summons a weak smile. “How’s that for honesty?”
Coughing wetly, she shuffles her back against the padded wall. I remain curled up in a puddle of water, too limp to lift a finger. There’s no concept of time in here. I don’t know how long the torture went on for, but we’re both drained.
“You kept saying your sister’s name.” Her voice is a needle in the heart. “And Xander’s too.”
“It’s nothing.”
“You can’t let them get in your head like that. It’s exactly what they want.”
“Who survived this shit before?” I wince on an inhale. “Don’t lecture me.”
“Fine. Be like that.”
From the corner of my eye, I can’t help but watch her. It’s the same sick desire that’s brought me into her orbit for months now. A drive I wasn’t willing to acknowledge before. Look where that got me.
Disaster follows Ripley at every turn, and I’ve followed along like a storm chaser on the heels of a promising tornado. In all the plots and schemes, a part of me hoped I wouldn’t succeed in destroying her.
Then the chase would end.
And I’d be left with a heavier conscience.
“You need to put pressure on your head,” I point out.
“Worried about me?”
“Hardly. Just don’t fancy being stuck here with a dead body.”
There’s an odd rattling sound before a sudden blast of cold air spews from the vents in the ceiling. More is pumped out, over and over, until the cell’s temperature has dramatically dropped.
Both sopping wet and exhausted, it doesn’t take long for shivers to set in. Ripley hugs her naked body, shaking like a leaf from head to toe. She’s curvy but small without a whole lot of meat on her bones to keep her warm.
“What is th-this?” She sits against the wall, her hands wrapped around her knees, appearing to be curled up as small as possible.
“They break you down first, exhaust you mentally and physically.” My limbs quiver with each word. “Then they roll out the big guns.”
Air vents whistling, there’s another quiet click before the lights suddenly cut, and we’re plunged into darkness. I focus on preserving any small amount of warmth I have left, but the sound of Ripley’s panicked gasps soon filters in.
“Ripley?” I whisper into the dark.
“I c-can’t… We’re n-never… getting out of h-h-here.”
“You need to calm down. They’re messing with our heads.”
“So c-c-cold,” she whimpers.
That fucking sound. I swear, she does it on purpose. Like she knows it makes me feel all kinds of fucked up and confused.
“Focus on something else,” I mutter.
“Like w-what?”
“I don’t know. The incredible scenery?”
“It’s pitch black, dick.”
“You still have the pleasure of my voice.”
“You know what? F-Fuck you.”
“You wish, Rip.”
“Are you s-seriously flirting with m-me while we’re being t-tortured?” Her teeth chattering is audible.
If it keeps her talking and that goddamn whimpering to a minimum, I’ll tell the bitch I love her. Anything to keep those sounds from breaking my fucking heart all over again. Though I’d never admit she has that power.
“Don’t tell anyone.” I sigh shallowly.
“It isn’t necessary t-to be an asshole all your l-life, Nox.”
“Really? That’s news to me. Thanks for the head’s up.”
“I hate you s-so much.”
“The feeling’s mutual.”
Unable to hold it back any longer, my teeth begin to clatter too. Anything to maintain what little heat remains in my core. Frigid air is still being pumped into the cell, glaciating our soaked, bare bodies.
It won’t be long before hypothermia sets in. If their intention is to make us as weak and vulnerable as possible, it’ll be an easy win. We’ve been tortured, beaten, and now damn near frozen to death.
Lost in thought, I realise Ripley has gone quiet. I can’t hear her teeth crashing together or even her snivelling anymore. Just the whistling of more ice-cold air being injected into our cell.
“R-Ripley?”
I strain my ears for any signs of life.
“Come on, Rip. T-Talk to me.” I silently pray for a response. “Tell me you h-hate me again.”
There’s still nothing. I despise the burst of fear that settles in my gut. When did this evil woman come to mean something to me? Or have I just learned to enjoy the sick torture of her presence? I can’t tell anymore.
Jaw locked, I fight through the pain as I wrench myself upright. It takes a lot of fumbling in the darkness for my fingertips to catch skin. My cuffed hands skate over her, blindly searching for some identifiable body part.
When I’ve found what feels like an arm, I tug with my remaining strength. Ripley grunts at the force of being dislodged from her perch against the wall and pulled across wet concrete.
“S-Stop,” she moans in pain.
“Don’t g-go quiet on me, then.”
“No…”
“I’m not dying a-alone in here.”
With some awkward manoeuvring, I get her close enough to tuck her into my chest. It takes some serious mental gymnastics to justify cradling her naked body against my chest. It’s just self-preservation, right? I can steal her body heat.
Lifting my cuffed wrists over her head, I hold her in a tight embrace. My hands rub up and down her knobbly back to stimulate some warmth. I’m acutely aware of every naked inch pressed up so close to me, it’s like we share the same skin.
Any personal space or privacy has deserted us. I can feel each quiet inhale and exhale that tells me she hasn’t curled up and died in the dark. Her lungs expanding pushes her soft breasts into my chest each time.
Despite her quivering, body heat is soaking into me due to our extremely close proximity. My teeth stop chattering, allowing me to speak.
“Talk to me,” I plead in a painfully neutral voice.
“T-Tired. Cold.”
“I know. Me too.” I keep rubbing her back, desperately fighting her shudders. “How did we end up like this, Rip?”
“Karma,” she jokes feebly.
“I guess we’ve earned it.”
Ripley sniffles in my arms. “I have.”
“You’ve survived.”
“So h-have you.”
A wave of tiredness washes over me. “I never cared about me. Just them.”
“Your family?” she whispers.
“The one I chose.”
“Tell me how. P-Please.”
I don’t know why I comply.
“Xander was an accident. He’d never admit it, but I knew he needed a friend. Then Raine came along. They both just… snuck in. Became important. I’m not sure how.”
Silence is a heavy blanket in this freezer, but not a warm one. Instead, it sucks us deeper into the barren emptiness. A place that lives within us, born of guilt and desperation, used to justify all manner of evils.
“W-Why Xander?” Ripley asks.
“What do you mean?”
“Why d-did he need a friend?”
“The clinicians were always interested in him. I guess I was too. It wasn’t hard to break into the office one night and read his file. I wanted to disprove what I suspected so I wouldn’t care anymore.”
Ripley drags in a shaky breath. “You… know?”
Surprise sparks in me. Xander hasn’t even confirmed it to me. Not when I witnessed him thrashing in his sleep for the first time. Not when I questioned his diagnosis. Not even when the Z wing clinicians weaponised his past to break him.
He refused to break.
Or even acknowledge his trauma.
“Do you?”
“Just a th-theory. Someone hurt h-him.” She continues to tremble in my arms. “Like y-your sister was hurt.”
“Yeah. They did.” I swallow thickly. “When I saw his scars, I had a hunch. No one becomes fascinated by pain without experiencing it.”
“So y-you wanted to h-help him?” Ripley guesses, her teeth-clacking gradually easing. “To p-protect him.”
“Yes, like I couldn’t protect Daisy. It’s fucked. I know.”
“No.” She shakes her head in a quick, curt jerk. “It’s not. Y-You just wanted to do right.”
With nothing but her breath and cold skin to hold me in reality, I can’t find the heart to lie. The likelihood of us ever leaving here is non-existent. She may as well know what kind of monster she’s dying with.
“I had no idea what was happening to Daisy. It went on under my nose for years.” My voice catches. “I didn’t protect her. I didn’t even see her pain until it was too late. She needed someone to keep her safe.”
“It w-wasn’t your fault.”
“Perhaps not. But failing her was my fault. In a twisted way… I figured that if I could help Xander, if I could be his friend and keep him safe… maybe Daisy would forgive me for letting her down.”
“Nox.” Her tone enters dangerous territory.
“I know how stupid it sounds. But when I realised that management was interested in Xander’s mind… I resolved to do anything to protect him.”
She’s quiet, no doubt aware of what comes next.
“He has no family, no life or career. It would be so easy for him to disappear into their program. And with that much damage? Xander was an easy target. I needed a way to make him untouchable.”
“Like by making h-him a stooge,” Ripley finishes.
“Yeah. If we worked for them, then maybe they’d leave him alone. That couldn’t happen while someone else held the role. I needed to remove the obstacle first.”
It feels so wrong to be justifying why I killed someone she cared about while holding her in my arms. Like I’m giving her no choice but to listen. But the speck of light left inside me wants her to know. Needs her to know. This was never about hurting her for fun.
“Holly didn’t deserve what I did to her,” I admit before I can change my mind. “She was a means to an end. I didn’t care that her death would hurt others. I was selfish and single-minded.”
“For someone you l-loved,” she surmises.
“You don’t have to pretend to understand.”
“I w-wish I was pretending.” Her face is damp with tears against my chest. “When I g-got you and Xander s-sent to the Z wing… I did it for h-her. The person I loved and didn’t protect. You were my m-means to an end.”
And there we are.
We’ve been waging a war for the exact same fucking reason all along.
Hatred. Love. Family.
“You know, I can’t even say I blame you for doing that to us. I’ve spent too long consumed by hatred and revenge not to understand the madness it pushes you into.”
“The same m-madness that l-love creates, right?”
A short laugh lights my chest. “Right.”
The two aren’t so unlike after all. We love to hate and hate that which we love. Whoever said humans can’t be made of extremes clearly had the privilege of a life without trauma or heartache. The rest of us know that it’s a careful tightrope walk between the two.
“I still want to h-hate you so b-badly,” Ripley says into my icy skin. “And I d-don’t want to understand why you murdered my b-best friend. But… part of me d-does.”
“I didn’t tell you any of this to change your mind, Rip. I’m not asking for forgiveness… some of us don’t deserve it.”
“No. S-Some of us don’t.”
You know what? Fuck it.
I’m tired of the charade. I’m tired of justifying my hatred and looking for the next opportunity to inflict it. I’m tired of being Ripley’s nemesis when all along, we were both just collateral damage. The price of surviving Incendia’s abuse.
They’ve taken so much from us.
I want to die with a shred of humanity left.
“But for the record, I am sorry,” I say slowly, deliberately. “For all of it.”
After a brief pause, she sucks in sharply. “I’m sorry t-too. For all of it.”
There’s no puff of smoke or sparkling golden gate appearing above us. Redemption isn’t a tick box to be checked and filed away. Though we wish it would be, right? Forgiveness would come easier that way.
Hatred doesn’t disappear with a few words.
But it does soften and contextualise.
It does relent.
“Then I guess… At least we’re dying on the same side?” I suggest uncertainly.
“What s-side is that?”
Stroking her wet curls, I let myself savour a split-second of satisfaction. She’s in my arms. For tonight, I can pretend she’s mine.
“The side of the villains.”