Page 81 of Seth
So that’s what you needed from me.Feeling used, he grabbed the phone and dialed Diego. “Come over.”
* * *
After borrowing Gustavo’scar,Seth drove out of the mansion’s grounds. The gates stood wide open, armed guards smoked at either side of it, but to his surprise, no one attempted to stop him.
Pine trees scraped the sky. The forest thickened, and soon the mansion disappeared from view. And with the lost visual, Seth’s thoughts abandoned Gustavo and gyrated to Ignaz.
He left the borrowed car in the middle of the road and walked to his own. Tire tracks on the verge showed where Hans’ vehicle squeezed past. Seth hopped into his car and sped through the forest.
When Seth returned home, Ignaz was already awake. He sat on the windowsill in the studio, knees hugged to his chest, and his red, puffy eyes fixed on the blue, cloudless sky.
“Hey.” Seth smiled as he entered the room. He took the opposite side of the windowsill as he pored over the boy. “How are you feeling?”
Ignaz shrugged. The smile he squeezed out instantly melted. “This place is so big. I couldn’t find you. Where have you been?”
“Out.”
Ignaz’s mouth opened and closed. He nodded and turned his face toward the sky again. “You drove? Is your hand better?”
Seth’s smile fell, he nodded.
Keeping his gaze on the sky, Ignaz whispered, “I need you to hurt me. But really-really hurt me. Please, help me forget…”
* * *
Ignaz wept and trembled.His clammy body shook against Seth’s as they curled together on the bed. His hands fumbled all over Seth’s chest as if he wasn’t sure what to do, push the man away, or cling to him. After a brief struggle, he sagged and buried his face in his palms.
With one hand wrapped around Ignaz’s waist, Seth caressed the side of his face with the other. The overflow of emotions was so bright and vivid it produced an invisible magnetic field around the boy.
He wanted to rub Ignaz’s back, but fresh dressings now covered his skin. His palm moved to Ignaz’s shoulder, traced his arm, then the back of his hand, before it gripped Ignaz’s wrist and tugged it away from the wet face. Red rims outlined the deep-blue eyes, light eyelashes clumped and darkened. Looking into the dilated pupils, Seth brought the captured hand to his mouth and kissed it.
“No.” A bubbling noise in the depth of Ignaz’s chest sounded like a cry for help when he shoved Seth away again.
Dissatisfaction welled up. During the scene, Ignaz had been even more absent than usual. Seth finally realized where the stigma of Ignaz being unsafe came from. Basking in pain, he submerged in his selfish needs, ignoring everyone around to the point Seth felt like an odd man out in his own scene, a mere tool for Ignaz to achieve something he didn’t understand.
Rejection stung. Unsure what to do, Seth released his embrace and got up.
“No, wait…” Panic settled on the tear-streaked face, and Seth once again thought how beautiful Ignaz was.
“Rest. I’ll bring you tea and something to eat.” He managed a smile before turning his back on the shivering boy and left the room.
* * *
Behind the window,the sickle moon emitted cold, indifferent light, illuminating featherlike clouds. Its dead light, as if slithering into Seth’s consciousness, prevented him from sleeping and filled his heart with restlessness. Every sound, be it a creak of wood caused by a night bird landing on a drying branch or the wind going through leafage, heightened his alertness.
In an attempt to escape the brightness and catch the tail of elusive sleep, he put the blindfold on, but it only sharpened his other senses. His mind played tricks on him, and now, even though he was alone, he felt a gaze on him. He pulled the mask off, but in his black bedroom, he was alone. Only him and the dead light settling in the red spikes of the chandelier hovering above the bed.
With a sigh, he rested his back against the mattress and closed his eyes. The feeling of a foreign presence returned. He lifted on an elbow, for the first time in years feeling exposed and uncomfortable in his home. Annoyed, he got up, put on a black hoodie and simple jeans, and snuck out of his house through the underground passage.
The forty-minute drive felt like only a few minutes because his mind kept looping through Ignaz’s story, facts from the legal case, and the weak voice asking for more pain. One thing Seth was sure about—Ignaz had never liked pain; hence he’d never experienced the euphoria of subspace.
The twenty-second district greeted him with loud music and packs of young, bald men dressed in leather. The night herded them around playgrounds for kids. Pulling up his hood, Seth slithered through the night. Avoiding parking anywhere close, he walked a few blocks before halting in front of the four-story building.
Without thinking, he approached the street door and read the name tags written on either side of the intercom buttons. Unsuccessful, he shuffled to the next street door, then to the third, when he found the nameplate “Fischer”.
Seth turned on his heel and disappeared into the night.
* * *
