Page 77 of Seth
Seth’s nerves tightened. A part of him expected another attack, but Ignaz’s eyes glistened with emotion.
“I shouldn’t have hit you. Does it hurt?”
Releasing one of his wrists, Ignaz reached forward. Seth averted his face before the fingers touched his cheek.
Ignaz sighed. “It was my fault, not yours. I didn’t stop you because, at that moment, I wanted it too. Seth, I never told you the reason why I have these rules.”
Seth froze, his desert hushed too, listening.
Ignaz swallowed, and his voice became so low, Seth had to strain his ears to hear him.
“Have you heard about the Painbow club and its owner?” The name rang a bell. Seth scoured his memory, but before his mind provided an answer, Ignaz explained. “It was a BDSM club in the second district. The owner was Nataniel Hoffman.”
“A murdered dom,” Seth remembered.
Ignaz nodded, eyes clouding with tears. “It happened right after Pride. There was still a flag hanging outside.” Ignaz’s chin trembled, and he swallowed. “The last patron had just left, and I was cleaning the bar when a group of skinheads broke in. They were swinging baseball bats, smashing everything around. They tore the flag down and set it on fire, then they started picking on us, on our clothes. It was summer, and I wore next to nothing. They reeked of alcohol. Someone said how funny would it be to give us what we ask for—sex and pain. They raped me one after another. They made him watch. And when they couldn’t get it up anymore, they used a broken bottle to ‘give me what I wanted’.”
Seth squeezed his eyes, realizing why he’d never seen Ignaz glow and why the Dead Sea splashed behind his pupils.
“I remember him screaming, and then a gunshot. When I woke up, I was in the hospital with forty-seven stitches inside me. Seth, Natan was my Master, my partner. We were exclusive; we were happy, and I couldn’t even testify at the trial.”
Ignaz settled his unseeing eyes on Seth. Shimmering drops tore from his lashes and crashed against Seth’s chest.
“Why not?” Seth asked with his lips only.
“I couldn’t go through with it. I couldn’t stand before people and tell them what happened when I couldn’t face the reality myself. Once, I tried to speak to a detective. He asked if somehow, I wanted it all to happen to me, that I must have begged for it since I’m into weird shit and had been dressed like that. He didn’t want a case like this in his file. I realized that no one would ever listen to me. No one gives a shit if one of us dies.”
Ignaz licked his lips. He opened his mouth, and a shimmering thread of saliva connected his upper lip to the bottom one. He sniffled, closed his mouth, and swallowed. His chest rose and fell in heavy, forced breaths. “Pain became my drug, my salvation too. When I hurt, I don’t feel this mind-shattering guilt. I feel like I’m getting what I deserve, and it feels good, right. I swore on his grave that I would never be with anyone again. That he will forever remain the only one for me. I haven’t had consensual sex since he died. But the truth is, those skinheads, they were right, I enjoyed the rough sex. My body loves it. I am the worst, Seth. I deserve everything that happened to me.”
Ignaz buried his face into his hands. The occasional drops, leaking through his fingers, crashed against Seth’s chest. He didn’t know what to say; he’d never been good at talking. One thing he knew for sure, his words wouldn’t matter anyway. There was nothing Ignaz hadn’t heard already. Seth reached up and wrapped his arms around Ignaz’s back, tugging him closer.
“It’s okay.” He whispered into Ignaz’s ear, resting the slim body against his chest. “No one will ever hurt you again, I promise.”
When Ignaz’s soft breathing tickled Seth’s neck, informing him that the boy fell asleep, he carefully rolled Ignaz off himself and got up.
His studio welcomed him with dry air that smelled like books and dust. The sun, breaking through the wall-size window, flooded the wide, long windowsill and wooden floor with golden light. Hand on the backrest of his chair, he slumped down and turned on his PC. His fingers flew over the keyboard when he entered the website with digital information and services provided by the Austrian judiciary.
He groaned three minutes after. Fingers bombarding the desk, he stared at the application form he needed to fill to get permission to access details of any case. Options flipped through his mind: bribery, break-in, a hacking attack, a detective agency. Everything of the above would leave a glaring trace, except for one. Gustavo’s face surfaced in his memory.
Who would have guessed you can be of use…Seth closed his browser and left the studio. He needed to pay Gustavo a visit, but for that, he needed Ignaz to sleep for at least a few more hours. He went to the kitchen and filled the kettle with water.
* * *
Seth layon the roofof his car with the stolen rifle resting on his stomach. His car, taking both lanes, blocked the road. He stared at the pristine, blue sky sprawled over the forest as his mind drifted. Visions of desert flickered before his eyes as he relaxed, and only occasional twitches of his muscles disturbed his meditative state.
The low roar of a powerful sports car reached his ears. He stirred, slipped off the roof, and blended with the forest.
The yellow Lamborghini took the turn, then the tires screeched as the car halted. Seth left his cover, and the muzzle of the automatic rifle met the rapidly paling face of the young, blond driver. The man behind the wheel cringed as his head bobbed forward then bumped against the headrest. He gulped and settled his frightened, electric-blue eyes on Seth.
Moving sideward, Seth approached the car. His knuckles tapped against the driver’s window before the blond got the message and lowered the glass.
“Please, I have nothing to do with anything.” The slight Swedish accent pleased Seth’s ear.
“I know. Don’t worry. If you do what I say, I won’t hurt you,” Seth whispered. “Open the door.”
“I should have left him long ago…” Hans said under his breath, shook his head, and complied.
Seth squeezed between the seats, sliding onto the floor. “Turn around. If you attract attention, I’ll kill you. Park in the garage.”
