Chapter 45 #2
“I know,” Boris said, squeezing the inside of his elbow. “I know. It’s OK.” The reassurance was more for himself than for Jack, as were the tiny circles he rubbed on his arm. Still, the motion was grounding, and Jack leaned into it.
He wanted to call to Carla, to pull her into his arms and keep her there until she came back to herself. Anything would be better than this—anger, hatred, despair.
She was in shock, he knew. Enzo and Ronnie, the abject cruelty of the yellow-eyed man, Jack’s possession—it was all too much.
A part of him thought she might be pleased if he killed Ronnie under other circumstances. Of course, he’d never planned on it and certainly never wanted to. But he thought she might have approved if it happened somehow, some way.
Dead wrong. Even if she didn’t love Ronnie (even if she feared him) she didn’t want to see him dead or maimed.
And Jack had maimed him, no mistake about it. If Ronnie survived this, he’d never look the same. Would probably live in constant agony.
Even though he hadn’t acted of his own free will, Jack would be a marked man.
Would it be better to take the gun from Carla, turn it on himself? Could death free him from this endless, cycling horror? Or would he only wake tomorrow with a headache and a deep sense of regret?
And if he woke tomorrow, would he have to do this all over again?
The yellow-eyed man turned to Enzo. “Do you think you have a choice?” he mused. “Do you think you can evade me through willpower alone?”
Enzo shrugged. Defiance shined in his dark eyes. “Maybe I can,” he said. “If I can summon this thing, what else can I do?”
“I’d warn you not to inflate your confidence,” said the yellow-eyed man. “But I know you won’t listen to me.”
“I’m not gonna be defeated by a rug,” Enzo grumbled.
“It’s not just a rug. It’s thirty years of intensive training.”
The room stank of wine, piss, blood. Every inhale burnt the insides of Jack’s nostrils.
“I gotta go to the bathroom,” said Boris suddenly, voice nasally, unsteady.
“The house is warded,” the yellow-eyed man said, turning to face them. “You won’t be able to leave.”
Boris craned his neck so that he could see down the hall and frowned. “I don’t think there’s a window in there.”
“You could crawl through the pipes,” Jack suggested, only half-joking. At this point, he’d be willing to try anything if it meant he didn’t have to look at Enzo’s blobs of flesh, now congealing on the rug.
“Trust me, if I get out of this, that’s the only way you’re leaving this house,” Enzo said, puffing out his chest. “We’ll dissolve you in a tub of acid after we shoot you full of lead, dump what’s left straight down the drain like a goddamn turd.”
Boris inhaled heavily. “Right. I, uh…” He turned to Jack. “Come with me.”
“What are you, a girl?” Enzo called. “You need him to hold your dick for you?”
Jack ignored him, glancing instead at the yellow-eyed man, who shrugged. “We’ll be right back,” he told Carla. She only blinked at him in response.
Jack followed Boris to the bathroom, paused outside the door, and found himself yanked inside.
“I’m going insane out there,” Boris said. He slammed and locked the door, turned on the faucet and the fan.
A laugh bubbled free from Jack’s throat, raw and sore. Had he been screaming? Oh god, he’d been screaming the entire time he smashed Ronnie’s face in. He clawed a hand down his face, moaned, “Yeah. Me, too.”
“We gotta get outta here.”
“I don’t think we can.”
“If people can get in, we should be able to get out. Or maybe, I dunno… Maybe we call the cops.”
Jack imagined the police stampeding down the stairs, shouting and pointing guns, and wanted to throw up. “No way. They’ll think we’re involved in a hostage situation.”
“We are hostages,” Boris hissed. “He just said we can’t leave.”
“Yeah, but will the police know that? Can we even explain this?” Jack leaned against the counter. The ache in his knee grew more pronounced. “What happens if we wake up and it’s the seventeenth again? Enzo’s gonna come after us. It’s gonna be a disaster. We have to finish this.”
Boris groaned, sat on the edge of the tub. “You’re right. I hate that you’re right.” Droplets of blood stained his shirt, clung to his arms, dotted his neck and jaw. His hair was flat against his head.
Still, Jack couldn’t help but admire him. He was no less magnetic than he’d been just this morning as he paced around the hotel lobby with the energy of a man on a mission, movements sharp and coordinated, expression shifting with every new idea Jack pitched.
“I don’t want to be,” Jack said, hanging his head.
“You’re right,” repeated Boris, rubbing his hands over his eyes. “I don’t wanna go to war with Enzo. I don’t wanna dissolve in a bathtub. That just makes me fucking sad, man. All these people they’ve killed. And for what? Business disputes and drugs?”
“Something like that,” said Jack, though he doubted Carla would tell them if they asked. Enzo certainly wouldn’t. He’d probably spit at them, accuse them of being rats.
“Do you think he’s gonna let us go?” said Boris, lowering his hands to look Jack in the eye. His intestines squirmed at the intensity.
A slow exhale. “I don’t know,” he answered. The same fear plagued him, popping in and out of his mind like a nosy neighbor.
“Do you think he’s telling the truth? About the interdimensional laws and stuff?”
“Maybe,” said Jack. “I almost believe him. He’s… powerful.”
“Fucking spooky is what he is.” Boris’s fingers tapped against porcelain. “Look, if we don’t make it out of this, it’s been nice knowing you, alright? I really mean that.”
A ball of anguish formed in Jack’s throat. “Yeah,” he managed. “You, too. I’m-I’m really sorry about all of this.”
“Not your fault,” said Boris. His eyes were blue like the ocean, deep and dark enough to drown in. Jack found himself leaning forward, wishing he could be swallowed up in their current.
A knock sounded on the door. Jack launched from the counter and crashed against Boris, who’d jumped up from the edge of the tub like it might collapse under him.
“You have one minute,” said the yellow-eyed man, voice muffled by the door. “Jerk faster.”
Boris’s laugh was more of a guffaw, bold and startled. “I can’t believe he just said that.” He dragged a hand through his hair and said, “I actually really do need to piss. Gimme a minute.”