12. Chapter 12

12

“ I didn’t think it was possible…”

Rory glanced up at Captain. “What?”

“You look worse than me.”

“I haven’t been sleeping well.”

Captain sat down opposite. “Even without me screaming the place down?”

“Yeah, well… Looks like I’m going through a bout of insomnia.”

Rory didn’t add that it was horny-induced insomnia. At any point during the night, Sebastian could toy with the Vaseline pot, and it didn’t matter if Rory was exhausted or if he was deep in the mists of sleep, he stirred and woke up hard and needy.

Sometimes Sebastian stayed beneath the bed, and they got themselves off at the same time, and other times he got up and he was waiting by the bed, having pulled back Rory’s sheet to watch him get hard. On those nights, Rory didn’t protest Sebastian watching, in fact, it turned him on to have Sebastian beside him, looking on with dark eyes.

“How are you sleeping?” Rory asked.

Captain shrugged. “I sleep.” He sighed. “But during the day, I don’t quite feel myself.”

“How do you feel?”

“Hazy, like I’m all soft around the edges, and I’m forgetful too.”

Rory frowned. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“It’s one or the other—I don’t take them, and my mind destroys itself or I do take them, and I’m detached from myself and feel…wrong.”

“There’s a third option.”

Captain frowned. “Which is?”

“You could go see the therapist again.”

“I can’t.”

“It was months ago now. Explain how you didn’t mean to get angry, but his questions felt invasive, and you’ll—”

“I could do that. I could say sorry and swear that I’ll not do it again, but that would be a lie. I don’t know how I’m going to react. I can’t promise I won’t shout, or scream, or break down in tears.”

“Did you… Did you feel like hurting him?”

Captain flung himself back and gawped. “No, of course not.”

“Sorry, I wondered, that’s all.”

“I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make me feel good, making him back off, making him go all wide-eyed and scared. It felt good in that moment to punish him for prying, but now…”

“Make another appointment,” Rory said softly. “You don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to. You could go there and just apologize, and then you’ll stop feeling this guilt.”

Captain scrunched up his face as if he was in pain, then nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

He got to his feet. “I’ll see if I can sort out an appointment now.”

As soon as Captain walked away, Ollie slid into his seat.

“Where’s he going?”

“To make an appointment with the therapist.”

“Why?” Ollie folded his arms. “He’s stopped screaming now.”

“Only because of the medication.”

Ollie shrugged, and Rory tapped his temple. “It hasn’t fixed anything going on in his head, only put a block on it, or a veil or whatever.”

“End result’s the same, though. He’s sleeping now when he wasn’t before.”

“But he’s not himself.”

“But what is the ‘self’ exactly?”

Rory groaned and clutched his brow. “Don’t start this again. Why the hell did you take that philosophy class?”

“I took all the classes, even drama. Apparently, they do a big show at the end of the year. They haven’t said what yet, but hopefully I’ll get to be something good.”

“Not a tree…”

Ollie narrowed his eyes. “Not a tree, a speaking part.”

“Could be a speaking tree.”

“Whatever. You’d better watch, you’d better be moved to tears.”

“Jesus, what’s going to happen to this tree? Will it be cut down? Burned as firewood?”

Ollie kicked him under the table, and he yelped.

“That hurt.”

“You deserved it.”

Rory snorted. “What class is today?”

“Creative writing, Teddy goes to it too.”

“Does he write about maggots by any chance?”

“Do you want me to kick you again?”

“Is that a serious question?”

They both laughed, then Ollie shook his head.

“He doesn’t write anything. He just watches me the whole time.” Ollie took a deep breath. “I was wrong about the maggots.”

Rory shot him a gentle smile. “You didn’t know they were so important to him.”

“No, I didn’t mean that. They weren’t maggots.”

Rory frowned at the table. “What were they then?”

“Caterpillars. He showed me a book in the library, pointed them out.”

“How the hell did he get caterpillars? And how did you mistake them for maggots?”

Ollie shrugged. “No idea and no idea.”

“What are you doing in creative writing?”

“Poetry.”

“No shit?”

“I like it. I like all of the classes. I’ve got to fill my time doing something, and besides, I failed everything at school. I wasn’t exactly a model student.”

“Did you get called into the headmaster’s office?” Rory snorted.

“Yeah, all the time. I was known as the scummy kid with the crazy father.” Ollie bowed forward and shut his eyes. “I didn’t have the best time at school. It was bad enough what went on at home, but to get it at school as well…”

His voice sounded raw, laced with emotion, and Rory was stunned into silence. He knew about Ollie’s father, abusive physically and mentally to Ollie and his younger brother, but he wasn’t supposed to know. Rory didn’t want to sit there and play oblivious, so instead he tried to steer the subject away from Ollie’s father.

“I’m glad you like the classes. Art is enough for me.”

Ollie smiled. “I’m sure the novelty will wear off after a few years.”

“By the time you’re out of here, you might be a professor or something.”

Ollie pursed his lips. “Or maybe my defining moment will be playing a tree in the prison play.”

Rory laughed, but it felt forced. Ollie’s smile faded, and he tapped the table.

“I—I know people don’t talk about why they’re in here…”

Rory shook his head. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“But I want to. I trust you.”

“Don’t.”

“Why not?”

“You barely know me.”

Ollie frowned. “I know you enough. You know it’s a murder charge, and I stabbed someone.”

“Ollie, I don’t think this is a good idea—”

“It was my father. He came home drunk and started on us like he always did, and I’d had enough. I was getting it from every angle, and when he hit Leo, I had to do something. I got a knife from the kitchen and stabbed him. I couldn’t stop stabbing him. I didn’t want him to hurt me or my brother again, and I don’t feel guilty about it. The worst part was seeing my brother’s face after I did it, knowing I might’ve fucked him up forever.”

“You did it to protect him.”

“He lives with my aunt and uncle now, and I’ve sent them visiting orders, but they never reply. I’ve sent them letters too, but I’ve not got any back. I want to see him. I want to explain why I did what I did. I don’t want him to hate me.”

“How old is he?”

“Fourteen. When I get out of here, he’ll be twenty-five. How messed up is that? He might be married by then. He might have a kid, or two…”

Rory didn’t have any comforting words and squeezed Ollie’s shoulder instead.

“I’m not even going to be there when he has his first beer…”

“He’s not tried alcohol?”

“Not officially—us two sipping dregs from my dad’s whiskey bottle doesn’t cut it.”

“Whiskey? Your first taste of alcohol was whiskey?”

“Yeah.”

“Jesus. Mine was a pint of bitter. My…friend told me it would put hairs on my chest, and I downed the thing.”

Rory could remember Erica’s wide eyes. She hadn’t expected him to guzzle it down, but she’d been a little less shocked when it came back up.

“I can’t believe I’m going to miss so much,” Ollie whispered.

“I’m sorry.”

Teddy came over and tapped on the end of the table. His sympathetic eyes were fixed on Ollie.

Ollie nodded, wiped his face, then dazzled Teddy with a smile. “I’m all right. Is it time for class?”

Teddy grunted, which meant yes.

“I’ll see you later,” Ollie said, getting to his feet.

As soon as he was out of sight, Rory dropped his head into his hands and cursed. He rocked back and forth, mind whirling a million miles a minute.

“I mean, if you’re that devastated, I’m sure there’s room for one more in the class.”

Rory didn’t remove his hands. “I’m not in the mood, Sebastian.”

“Mood? Mood for what?”

Rory sighed. “This…whatever it is you’re doing.”

“I see you looking sad, and I have to come over and make sure you’re okay.”

“I don’t want you to be nice to me.”

Sebastian laughed lightly. “What?”

Rory heard him move around the table, then sit in the chair opposite.

“Be horrible,” Rory said.

“It’s not in me to be horrible.”

“Yeah, right.” Rory laughed darkly.

“I’m serious.”

Rory removed his hands and placed them flat on the table. “You hated me when I first came here. I saw it in your eyes.”

“You couldn’t even look at me—”

“All I saw was hatred. Look at me like that again. Tell me I’m nothing, that I’m not worth the oxygen.”

“Why?”

“Because I need you to.”

“Really? You’re actually asking me to do that?”

“Yes.”

Sebastian tilted his head, then placed both his hands on top of Rory’s. His expression changed like a switch, from normal and calm to raging and spiteful. He curled back his lip, flared his nostrils, and froze Rory to the chair with a blast of his icy stare.

“Hate doesn’t do it justice. I despise you. You’re not worth the oxygen in your lungs, the food in your stomach, or the blood in your veins. You are less than nothing, and the world would be a better place without you in it.”

Rory only realized tears were running down his face when one hit the table. He looked down at the splash, then back up to Sebastian. His emotional switch had flicked again, and he wore an expression of unmasked regret.

The skin around his eyes twitched, and he shook his head. “Is that really what you wanted?”

Rory nodded, then shook his head, then nodded again. He slapped away a tear on his cheek. “I don’t know.”

“Can I ask for something in return?”

“What?”

“Never ask me to do that again.”

“Aww, how sweet.”

Rory blinked back the moisture in his eyes, then looked up at Pauly. He gestured to the table, where Sebastian’s hands were no longer pressing down on Rory’s. At some point, they had linked fingers, and they were holding each other.

Rory was so fucked.

“Keep walking,” Sebastian hissed.

Pauly carried on, and Rory noticed more men wearing bandanas following him. He counted ten, and they all glared venom at Sebastian as they passed.

“There’s more of them,” he whispered.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I am worried.”

Sebastian smiled. “I can handle it. I’ve still got the majority of this prison behind me.”

“But it only takes one to hurt you.”

Sebastian’s smile fell, and he dropped his gaze down to their hands. “Rory, you’re squeezing me pretty damn hard.”

Rory stopped clutching and pulled his hands away. “Sorry, I didn’t realize.”

“It’s okay… Chess?”

Chess was Rory’s salvation, and Rory nodded eagerly.

Sebastian waved Einstein over. He placed the board down, and Sebastian set about getting it ready.

“Okay?”

“Yes,” Rory breathed.

Sebastian rubbed his fingers up and down the pieces before he moved them, and Rory was transfixed.

When he took Rory’s pieces, he clutched them in his hand before setting them in front of himself. He lined them up, all the pieces of Rory he had claimed and now owned. Rory took more pieces of Sebastian, but he didn’t line them up with confidence. He pushed them aside.

“Captain’s back,” Sebastian murmured.

Rory turned around expecting to see Captain looking a bit less guilt-ridden, but instead he looked raging angry, and Rory’s heart started to thump.

“Captain?”

“He wouldn’t even hear me out. Got the officers to tell me he felt too threatened by me, doesn’t think we can work together. You hear that, Rory? He spent thirty minutes with me and saw me for what I was, a monster. Unsavable, evil.”

“You’re not evil.”

Captain stepped forward and towered over Rory. “Don’t. You don’t know me.”

He turned his attention to Sebastian. “You run this wing, right?”

“You could say that.”

“You smuggle stuff in, or you know who does?”

Sebastian flashed looks at the closest officers, but they were all busy talking to inmates. “Yeah.”

“I need alcohol.”

Rory widened his eyes and looked up at him. “No, you’ve got off that shit.”

“What the hell do you know about it?” Captain growled.

The words hit Rory like a lash. He wasn’t supposed to know about his alcoholism; Captain hadn’t shared that demon with him.

“So, I need a drink.”

“Please don’t do this,” Rory whispered.

Captain lifted his chin with his eyes fixed on Sebastian. “How about it? What do you need in return?”

“I’m not getting you any,” Sebastian said.

“What?”

“I said no.”

Captain curled his hands into fists. “Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are?”

He launched at the chessboard and sent the pieces flying. The prison ground to a halt, and Captain leaned over Sebastian, breathing heavily.

“You’d better back away fast,” Sebastian growled.

“Or what?”

Rory turned to Captain. “Please, calm down.”

“Oi, Captain!”

His head snapped up. “What?”

Pauly waved him over. “I want to talk to you.”

Captain huffed, then stalked over to the table of bandana-wearing inmates.

“I’m not the only one that smuggles contraband into prison,” Sebastian mumbled.

Pauly gestured Captain closer, then whispered something in his ear. Rory went to stand, but Sebastian grabbed his arm and pulled him down.

“No.”

“I can’t just let him destroy himself.”

“He’s a big boy, his own man. You have to let him make his own mistakes. Sit down.”

Rory tugged against Sebastian’s hold, but Sebastian didn’t give up his grip on his arm. Captain walked further away with Pauly at his side, and then they both vanished into Pauly’s cell.

“Leave it,” Sebastian said firmly.

Rory sunk back down. He slumped. “I didn’t think this would be so hard.”

“What? Being in prison? Didn’t they tell you? It’s a barrel of laughs.”

Einstein gathered the chess pieces, and Sebastian prepared the board again.

“I don’t want to play,” Rory whispered.

“You have to,” Sebastian said, pointing to Rory’s pieces. “Play the game. That’s the only way you’ll get through it.”