Page 16 of Restitution

Which is why I’m here and suffering from hunger and withdrawal pains. A cell. A cold prison. A small room with no windows and stone walls, one lined with bars so I can see into Base’s cell. Underground. In the dark. And it’s the most peace I’ve had in months.

Apparently, our buyers have agreed to wait until next month to take our services.

Hopefully someone cuts my cock off before then, or I’ll have yet another death on my hands for Stacey to be even more disgusted by.

I should be punching against the door and hunting for Stacey. But I’m not – I don’t think I’d even manage ten steps withoutpassing out. My energy is depleted entirely, and I keep falling in and out of consciousness.

Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to go look for her. I’m livid. I want to rip these walls down and blow the entire world up for her, to snap the neck of the guy who has her.

I’d burn him first but keep him alive enough to feel every agonising second. I’d carve the name of every victim who’s fallen by my hands into his skin – the ones I remember anyway. I’d cut his eyeballs out, snap each finger then pull up each nail. I’d drill into each thigh and nail him to a chair.

So many scenarios have played out in my head. It’s a little concerning how detailed each one is.

They’re nothing compared to what I’ll do to Christopher Fields when I get my fucking hands on him though.

Base listened to one of my descriptions before he passed out this morning, and he asked if I needed a hug.

I definitely do not.

I pick up one of the pieces of brick that’s broken off the old wall and chuck it through the bars, hitting Base on the head. I do that a lot to pass time while we’re down here. He’s grown used to it and ignores me.

I look over at my friend. “You awake?”

“Nope,” he says.

I can just make out his arm over his eyes, a bloody bandage over his naked chest. The wound’s probably infected since it’s not had any of the dressings changed in forty-eight hours.

“I think I’m dying again. I can’t see.”

“That’s because there’s hardly any light in here,” I say, snorting. “Does it still hurt?”

“You mean the hole in my chest that I got three days ago? Nah, I’m sound,” he replies sarcastically, his voice echoing over to me. “It is a little throbby and feels swollen, which can’t be good signs.” He’s silent for a beat. “Does your scar still get itchy?”

I trace the raised skin lightly with my fingertips. “Yeah, a little.”

“I was always the handsome one of our group, but I think people will be more attracted to you because of the belting scar. They’ll feel sorry for you. Just remember, baby Tobias, when you’re getting all the attention, I’m the naturally handsome one.”

I roll my eyes. “Sometimes I wonder why the fuck we’re friends.”

“Because I’m funny.” He snorts at himself. “Hey, do you have any smokes left?”

I sit up and check the packet under my bed, the lighter stuffed inside it. “Yeah.”

They were thrown at us yesterday. A gift from Bernadette to keep us sweet – not food or water or something healthy. I move to lean against the bars separating us, and Base groans as he sits up, holding his chest with a wince, then comes down to lean against the bars with me.

“Do you think they’re okay?” he asks, taking a cigarette from me and lighting it up. “The girls.”

“I don’t know.”

“Please tell me we’re going to teach those fuckers a lesson.”

“We will. I promise.” I light my own smoke, blowing a cloud above us. “Do you think they’ll bring Dez into this?”

“Nah. Dez is probably married to Tylar by now, with three or more bairns chained to them. Do you think they’re travelling?”

“Last I knew, they were in Thailand.”

“Better staying there,” he says, inhaling and exhaling. “Nodoubt Berna-bitch will use him against us.”