Page 95 of Close Quarters

Well, if I was going with my idea of not doing anything stupid, it meant I should probably go along with what he wanted. After all, of all the things he could have asked for, asking why I’d ended up in prison was next to nothing. There could have been far more devious or cruel things, like asking me to hurt Elliot or forcing me to climb at night without any gear.

That didn’t stop me from having a moment of hesitation, though. I had told no one why I’d ended up there, not the whole story anyway. Honestly, it was a miracle Elliot even bothered to get involved with me, considering the half-truth version of the story I’d told him. It took a very special person to hear, ‘I beat the shit out of my ex-boyfriend to the point he ended up in a coma,’ and still want to be involved with that person. You either had to be crazy or…well, a sad soul who gravitated toward that sort of person because it was all you knew.

At this point, I had to accept Elliot was just crazy.

“He beat the shit out of someone,” Elliot blurted out so loudly a couple of the guys and me jerked. “Two guys. An old friend of his and a friend of that friend.”

“Really?”

“Really. Put one of them into a coma.”

“And what did you do?”

“I, uh…helped in an armed robbery where the clerk got messed up badly—an old guy. Almost killed him. I didn’t hit him, but…we all went in together.”

“Interesting,” Edgar said, clearly not that interested. He turned his attention back to me. “So, I can understand robbery, but beating your friend to a pulp? That takes a special kind of man…or a special kind of hate. What was it?”

“I…” My words cut off as I realized Elliot had interrupted me previously, emphasizing friend when it had been my ex-boyfriend. He’d jumped ahead of me in conversation before to explain why we had camped out in the same tent together. He was purposefully making sure these men had no idea we were gay, let alone a couple.

Was that the product of a mind terrified of being outed to a bunch of strangers with weapons or…oh. Now I understood why his apparent terror had seemed so off to me, and I could almost kick myself for not realizing it sooner. All the times before, whenever I’d seen him afraid, he had either made a scene or locked down tight…save for that incident with Mona, but that woman could have been an interrogator for the CIA.

Christ, was he playing a long game right now?

“Well?” Edgar asked, a new edge to his voice.

I took a deep breath, preparing to answer the man’s question and desperately trying to ignore the guilt and shame that came with it. I’d never had the motivation to get past it before, but the possible threat to our lives if I didn’t would have to do.

“I…” My teeth gritted as I continued pushing forward. “I discovered he and his buddy were?—”

My pause drew out for a moment, and Elliot shifted restlessly next to me. “Reno?”

I hated being on display to anyone, let alone a bunch of strangers. I bunched my fists at my side and glared at the sky so I didn’t have to see anyone’s faces. “They were raping kids, alright? I had known this guy for years, and I thought his friend was alright. But for pretty much the whole time I knew them, they were teaming up to molest and rape the kids they could get their hands on. Fuck, he was even pimping out his own brother to a bunch of his sick friends since the kid was seven.”

“I…how did you find out?” Elliot asked, the horror in his voice overriding the terror he had been feeling or faking.

“Remember when I said I used to babysit my friend’s kids sometimes?”

“Well, yeah-oh. Oh. Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“I left him and his buddy with a few of them to make a sale,” I said, hating that I’d been away all over a few baggies of coke so I could have some extra money. “But a couple of sales didn’t pan out, so I came back early and?—”

How do you explain to anyone, let alone people who had just learned your name, what it was like to realize what was going on? What words could possibly encompass the full breadth and depth of the horror, the betrayal, the disgust, and the fury and hate that filled me? To realize there were so many worse things your partner could be doing than leaving you for another person, even hiding an addiction. Hell, cheating on me with another adult would have been nothing compared to what I’d seen when I walked into that living room unannounced.

The only lie I’d told in court was that, at that moment, I had blacked out, remembering very little of what I did after entering the apartment. I remembered. I remembered with clarity that was too sharp at times, the colors, sounds, and sensations so clear they felt artificial.

I remembered every blow, the ache it caused in my hands, and the blood it splattered. I could still hear the kids crying, who I’d thankfully had the mind to lock in the back bedroom so they wouldn’t see anything. Each crack of bone, each cry, and moan of pain as I took my rage out on the two of them. I had seen it all so clearly, even as I lied in my testimony. Whether I was believed or not didn’t seem to matter, they hadn’t questioned me too hard on the accuracy of my testimony.

“Wow, and that’s what they locked you up for?” Keith asked, surprising me with his tone, sounding almost impressed. “That’s the American justice system for ya, now, isn’t it?”

“I had several priors and beat them badly. Both of them nearly died, and my…friend, he didn’t wake up for several months,” I told him with a shrug, pushing at the shame and guilt to try to make it go away before it showed even more on my face. “And…I’d beat the ass of the judge’s kid once back in high school. I guess he never forgot that or forgave it.”

“Huh, now ain’t that a mighty shame,” Edgar said thoughtfully, looking over his weapon and grunting. “A damn shame.”

“What’s a shame?” I asked warily.

“Well, for one, shame you didn’t kill ‘em. Some people are just sick,” he said, cocking his head. “Does make some other things a little more complicated, though.”

---