Page 121 of Seth
The words that sounded like a confession crushed Seth’s world.
“No…” He mouthed. An acute sense of loss zapped through his chest, stealing his breath. An invisible hole opened in his guts, and the searing desert wind billowed in his ears. He screamed, but his voice failed him. “Why?”
In his mind’s eye, he could see the dying god and the black carbuncles opening all over his now grayish skin. There was very little left of him now, and after tonight, there would be nothing he could give anyone, not that he wanted to.
But we won’t. This is my last life, and you were the one. I won’t look anymore.
Seth lowered on the sand, curling by Ignaz’s side, and closed his eyes. He didn’t want to get up, didn’t want to think, he just wanted tonight to end. There was nothing else he could do. He’d simply run out of time.
* * *
Gustavo stoodinthe shadows of the machinery with his arms folded over his chest. His every nerve strained as he watched Seth curl next to the boy with the straight razor gripped in his hand. Even from sixty-five feet away, he could feel his pain thick in the air.
Despite being nearly identical, the scene he witnessed tonight differed from the one he’d interrupted before in every aspect. There was no sense of danger, no electric tinge to tickle his nerves, just sorrow and pain.
A tear of a wrapper rustled the silent night. Diego’s elbow bumped against his shoulder as he shoved a lollipop into his mouth with such urgency, the candy clanged against his teeth before he rolled it into his cheek. Knee bouncing, he turned to Gustavo.
“I liked this boy.” Diego dropped the wrapper to the ground.
“I know.”
“No, Gustavo, I really did like him. Why the fuck did you make me stay with him for three days if you had no intention of stopping this fucker? I should have known. You’ve totally lost your marbles.” Sharp accusation glinted in his foxy eyes.
Gustavo understood the rage. He did, but there was very little consolation he could provide.
“There was no point in stopping him.” Gustavo barely heard himself. He remembered Seth’s pain as he stormed through the basement in helpless fury. Back then, Gustavo had wondered why Seth had never stopped Ignaz. Why had he walked away? Now, he finally understood. “It’s not a murder. It’s mercy. The boy wanted this.”
“He didn’t fucking know what he wanted. He was twenty-three and traumatized. He didn’t need this. He needed therapy.” Diego growled, then blew a huff out, closed his eyes, and clenched his fists. When he spoke again, his voice sounded low and quiet. “He was confused and scared. For the first time in years, he found the courage to date and found himself in a murderer’s bed. He chose the easy way out because he didn’t know whom to trust and had no ground beneath his feet. He simply had no other choice, but you had.”
“I would have stopped him if I had the slightest hope that he wouldn’t slit his veins the next instant.”
“How do you know that? What are you, a fucking psychologist?” Aggression radiated from Diego’s every pore. His eyes blazed with the fire of hatred.
“Remember how you sold a Pit Bull pup to a man, and he brought it back two days later, broken and scared of its own shadow? This is why you took the canine psychology course, right? Were you able to help it?”
“Humans aren’t dogs.”
“Maybe no, maybe yes. Back then, you made a decision. You were merciful and spared the pup a life of misery.”
“You can’t seriously compare that to this? This guy here, he is nuts, this is a murder, and your word means nothing. I’m going to put him down.” Diego reached for a gun.
“He didn’t want to do this.” Gustavo placed a hand on his shoulder. “If you want to blame someone, blame those who did this to the boy in the first place, or at least watch the footage.”
“Oh, I don’t blame Mayr. He is batshit crazy. I blame you.” Diego shrugged his hand off himself and pulled out a gun. “For not keeping your fucking word. For carrying this game too far. For making me personally involved in this shit. And I blame myself. Mayr might have killed him, but his blood is on your hands. And on mine.”
Gustavo wanted to say something, anything to alleviate Diego’s guilt, but for the first time in his life, he ran out of words. He shook his head and inched toward Seth, but a wide palm covered his shoulder, stopping him.
“What are you doing?”
“He needs help.” Gustavo shrugged. Every cell of his body, as if magnetized, attracted him to Seth. He barely managed to stand still. He needed to be with Seth, to look him in the eye. He couldn’t get rid of the bitter taste in his mouth, as if something bad was about to happen.
“Gustavo, you don’t need him. You already have the fucking statue. Stop.”
“Why would I need the statue when I can have the real thing?
“Didn’t you want to stay away from him? What happened to that?”
“That was before.” Gustavo shrugged his hand off and inched closer to Seth.
