Page 11 of Entombed In Sin

Knox huffs, “Starr Girl, you?—”

“Just shut up for a second, Knox! You just don’t get it, do you? You’re this good looking, friendly, outgoing guy. You were probably the popular kid in school, and now you have two guys that adore you. You’ve probably never been so alone that even mice won’t hang out with you.” I finish stiffly folding the cardboard coffin as I talk. “You probably don’t know what it’s like to be the butt of an entire town’s joke, or the person constantly tormented by—” I wave a hand at Trevor. “—But that’s been my life for as long as I can remember. I thought that was going to change when I reached out to the three of you. But if yesterday is what it's going to be like all the time, I don’t want it.”

With a small degree of difficulty, I transfer Trevor’s body over into the cardboard coffin. When I’m done, I roll his body toward the double door. Knox slides off the desk and hurries over to open the door for me. He shoots me a grin that I ignore while pushing Trevor out into the hallway.

“Am I allowed to talk now?” he asks.

“No, go away.”

Instead of listening, Knox trails behind me toward the cremation chamber. My whole body goes on high alert, stiffening at his proximity and my lack of sight on him. He can do anything right now with my back turned to him. I hold my breath, straining to hear any sort of sign that he's going to jump me from behind.

“You're wrong, you know,” he says, his voice grim, after a few minutes of tense silence as we walk through the halls of Bright Starr. “I grew up in a place like Chasm. Good old Triton, Idaho, with a population of about four hundred and fifty people, and all of them were fucking assholes. As someone who doesn’t fit a certain mold, I drew a lot of judgment from people. Even my parents never understood me.”

We stop in front of the door to the back where the cremation chamber is. I push a button on the wall and the door opens into the vast garage space. With a grunt, I push the rolling table into the room. To my dismay, Knox follows.

“I had bullies just like Trevor and Sebastian,” he admits. “They did, ah,similarthings to me that these two did to you.”

Halfway to the furnace, my footsteps falter. I shouldn’t care. So what if maybe we have something in common? Knox’s sob story won’t justify his actions. Still, I find myself holding my breath as I wait to hear more. Knox leans up against the wall by the door. His gaze drops to the floor while he shoves his hands into his pockets.

“I was an outsider most of my life. I had maybe one friend that I can remember, but he didn’t last long once I hit puberty, and he realized that I wasn’t like him. While I started putting on my mom’s clothes and experimenting with makeup, the rest of the guys my age were playing in the dirt or jerking off to their older brother’s porn stash. I was picked on for it relentlessly. Greg Westfield was one of the worst of them. He would torment me at school in front of everyone whenever he got the chance. From grade school all the way to high school.”

Walking over to the furnace, I turn it on to preheat and then bend into the cardboard coffin to readjust Trevor. At Knox’s lengthy pause, I look up at him. His face is flush as he glares at the floor. There’s a stiffness to his posture that wasn’t there moments ago.

“But then in high school something changed.Afterschool, Greg was different. In those moments, he acted like he wanted to be my friend. At first, I didn't believe him—not with how he treated me any other time. But when he was nice, he wassupernice, and I enjoyed the attention from the most popular guy in school. We could talk for hours, and slowly I got to know him,allof him. And that's what I'm into, you know? Complicated personalities are what get my blood going, not necessarily looks, and I was realizing that with Greg.”

I shake my head, not wanting to trade ‘woe is me’ stories. “Knox?—”

“Just… give me a second.” Knox shoots me a frustrated glare before he redirects it to the floor once more. “Eventually we got physical with one another. He was my first everything, and behind closed doors he was really good to me. But his friend, Justin, found us in a compromising situation one day. Greg showed his true colors then. He told Justin that I'd drugged him and forced him to do stuff to me. Justin beat the shit out of me while Greg watched on. But that wasn't enough. They r?—”

Knox’s mouth slams shut as the tendons in his neck pop out as he seems lost in that memory.

After a tense moment of silence, Knox finally shakes his head and pushes on. “Anyway, after some time, they left me there bleeding and in pain. Somehow, after a few hours, I managed to get home, and when I told my parents they… they didn't believe me. They said I must've done what Greg said I did because I allowed Satan to corrupt me. All because I wasn't a ‘normal’ son. They already had the town whispering in their ear about me before everything happened with Greg—about how I was a freak. But then word got around town about what ‘I did’ and after that, things were so,somuch worse. I left shortly after graduation a year later. I couldn’t take the constant harassment. I knew I’d find a better life out in the real world—which was both true and not. Because I don’t fit the status quo, I'm deemed a freak in most places, and I’m gawked ata lot. Now, though, I don't mind. I’m comfortable with myself.”

I’m not sure it’s possible to fake the thick bitterness in Knox’s voice. Which means… I’m inclined to believe his story. I stare at Knox, my emotions so conflicted that I'm not quite sure what I'm feeling. This is the first time I've heard him speak solemnly. The thing is, true or not, I can’t be sure if he's telling me this story as a ploy to let my guard down, just like his charming smiles and friendly conversations do, or if he's being sincere.

“Anyway,” Knox clears his throat. “I'm telling you this because?—”

The door opens to the cremation chamber, cutting off whatever Knox is going to say. We both look at Sagan as he joins us. The hard look he splits between the two of us is the most emotion I've seen on his face. His gaze lingers on his boyfriend, who shoots him a sheepish, cheek-dimpling grin. All traces of bitterness and solemnity in Knox’s expression vanish as if they were never there.

“Everything good here?” Sagan asks, his voice carefully void of any emotions.

“Everything is perfect. Me and my bestie were just talking. What’s up?” Knox's smile falters when Sagan dismisses him to look at me.

“Come on, Little Viper, the pastor is here to speak with you.”

The blood drains from my face. “Already? But Bright Starr isn't even open yet.”

How am I supposed to look Pastor Michaels in the eyes? Giving the green light for the guys to kill Trevor isn't something I regret, but still, my stomach churns painfully as I consider what my actions have done to affect others.

Sagan shrugs. “He was waiting out front, I figured we could rip the Band-Aid off quickly.”

Swallowing hard, I nod.

“I can throw this guy into the fire if you want,” Knox offers quickly.

I chew the inside of my cheek for a moment as I consider what to do with Trevor. As much as I’d like to just toss him into the retort and be done with him, like I intended to do, I reconsider. This isn’t about me right now. Trevor is a family member of a client. Their wants and needs supersede mine.

“Actually,” I grimace, hating to have to hang on to Trevor any longer. “I should roll him back into the preparation room. Pastor Michaels might … he might want to say goodbye.”

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