Page 116 of Fool Me Twice

“Let me go!” he screamed, kicking out toward more of the mirrors. “Let me go! Let me go! I need to get rid of them. I need to break them!”

Cane gathered him close, turning him and pinning his arms between them. Still Hart struggled.

“You’re cursed, Hart,” Cane said into his ear. “Look into the mirror and see!”

“No! You’re lying! You’re all liars! Let me go!”

He closed his eyes tight, refusing to open them.

Liars. They were liars. He needed to get away. He needed to smash everything. It was an itch under his skin, burrowing deeper, punishing him the longer he couldn’t scratch it. He wanted to scratch himself bloody.

“He needs to calm down,” Damir’s voice came over a speaker somewhere. “He won’t be able to get into the headspace to see the curse unless you can calm him.”

“What the hell do you think I’m doing?!” Cane yelled back.

“Talk to him. Don’t yell,” Damir said. “Talk about the things that are important. You’ll know when to try what I told you. I’ll do the rest.”

Music began to play in the background, soft and soothing. It grated in Hart’s ears like nails on a chalkboard. There was a hiss coming from somewhere, and Hart whipped his head around to see a cloud of smoke coming from under the door. The cloying scent of bergamot and sandalwood filled the air.

He released a bloodcurdling laugh, throwing his head back and howling at his own reflection, distorted in the ceiling mirrors.

“That’s the best you’ve got?” he yelled. “You found someone to replace me, and this is the best you can do. Copying my techniques? Down to the scent and the music? FUCK YOU!”

Cane’s arms tightened around him. He lowered his head next to Hart’s ear. Hart could feel his nose brushing against the shell of it, but he refused to let it affect him in any way.

“Nobody is trying to replace you,” Cane said, voice low and barely audible over the soft music playing.

“Take me away, Cane,” he said, desperately clawing at the last lifeline he had. “I’ll stay this time. I promise I won’t disappear again. You can have me. Just take me away.”

“Not like this, sweetheart.” Cane shook his head.

“You don’t want me?” Hart asked, gasping at the piercing pain in his chest. He tried pushing away, but Cane wasn’t letting go.

“You have no fucking idea how much I want you,” Cane said, pinning Hart to his chest, shaking him as if he was trying to push the words into his body. “I’ve spent years wanting you. Spent the last year waiting for you to come back to me. I never fucking stopped waiting.”

“Then take me!” Hart hissed. “We don’t need any of this bullshit. Let’s just go!”

He tried to push Cane toward the door, but it was like trying to move a brick wall.

“I want the real Hart,” Cane said.

“I am real!” Hart said, anger seeping back against the desperation.

“I want the prissy, stuck-up, three-piece-suit-wearing pain in my fucking ass back,” Cane said. “I want the stupid quotes, and I want you to only curse when I’m fucking you. I want you looking at people down your nose and eating your ribs with a fork like a psycho.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Hart screamed in frustration, slamming his bound fists into Cane’s chest as his head exploded with pain at the words.

The nightmare just kept on going. He couldn’t see the end of it, anywhere. It felt like they’d just keep him trapped in that room forever.

“You’re cursed, Hart,” Cane said, allowing the blows to his body that Hart kept raining on him, even though they were clearly causing him pain. “We need you to see that. We need you to pull yourself out.”

“Who’s ‘we,’ Cane?” Hart sneered. “The ones who shoved me in here after finding someone better to do my job? You really are siding with them, aren’t you?”

“There is nobody better,” Cane said. “And they all know that.”

“No.”

“Listen to me!” Cane said, giving his body another shake. Hart was sure if they got any stronger, he’d hear his bones rattling inside his skin. “They need you! Fix can’t keep them from being fucking assholes on his own.”

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