Page 109 of Seth

“I would know.” Haas’ words rang with metal. “Now, please leave.”

“Thank you, Doctor.” Gustavo grinned and strolled out of the room.

* * *

Gustavo satwithhis elbows pressed against the desk and his forehead resting on his stippled fingers. The fascinating idea of not feeling pain turned out to be a living curse for people like Seth. Even the stupid schedule made perfect sense now. People who had no awareness of their own bodies could never know hunger pains, the ache of a full bladder, or muscle pain from joints being stressed by an uncomfortable position. Three days had passed since Diego stayed at Seth’s place. During this time, Gustavo contacted dozens of doctors to research everything he could find on Seth’s diagnosis.

The more he learned, the weaker the powerful image of the magnificent beast he’d created in his mind became. The number of adjectives he’d used to label Seth shrank until only one remained.

Frail…Despite his strength, Seth was frail.

The diagnosis messed with Gustavo’s mind, creating more questions than answers. The clinical cases he’d managed to find stated that CIPA disorder almost always came hand in hand with mental disability and retardation, but Seth was sharp, smart. Also, almost all the pictures he’d managed to find showed people with inflamed joints. Many with Seth’s condition didn’t live past twenty-four years, but Seth looked healthy.

Is it because he had the best medical attention possible?Gustavo wondered, but he couldn’t get answers. He wanted to ask Haas, but somehow, he was sure the doctor wouldn’t tell him much.

His phone rang, dragging him out of his lazy thoughts. Diego’s name blazed on the screen. He swiped the icon. “Yes?”

“The boy is gone.”

“What?”

“He looked drowsy. I thought he knocked back some sedatives. I went out for a bit. When I returned, he was gone.”

“Why the fuck did you leave him?”

“I ran out of suckers, okay?” Diego’s voice pitched with indignation.

“Geez, Diego...” Gustavo shook his head. “Find him. Now. I need Loco’s mind off him, not on him.”

Brightness wrappedaroundhim even before Seth realized his eyes were open. Indifferent evening light flooded the vaguely familiar, white room. He lifted on an elbow and glanced around. The fog in his head, slowly dispersing, caused a trickle of memories. Blood, gore, acid, and screams. Gustavo and a tiny, annoying movement of his hand as he pushed the foxy-eyed man behind his back. The long road and terrified blue eyes.

“Ignaz.” Seth sat up. The room shifted before him, making him clasp the edge of the bed.

The blue sheet slipped to the floor, revealing his naked body and a tight bandage around his middle. He pressed his palm to his stomach but only felt the soft texture of the dressing. A wire connecting to the finger clip stretched as his hand moved. He tore it away, then pulled the catheter out of his cock. Out of habit, he grabbed his smartwatch and fixed it around his wrist.

Getting up, he circled the bed, found the clipboard attached to the footboard, and skimmed through. His throat closed as he read through the succession of days and administered procedures.

Seven days. Seven fucking days.

“Please, return to your bed.” The familiar baritone reached him before Seth realized the door had opened. He turned around to see Haas snapping on gloves.

“Where are my clothes?” Seth tried to speak up, but only hissing left his mouth.

“Burned. Please, lie down.”

“I need to go,” Seth mouthed.

“You aren’t going anywhere. Lie down, or I will lock you up as a mentally disturbed patient dangerous to yourself and others.” Haas’ eyes glinted with steel.

“You don’t understand. I need to find Ignaz.” Seth cleared his throat, looked around.

“He’s with your friends.”

“What friends?” Seth spun so quickly his vision blurred. His heart sped up, every thud reverberating in his ears. “I don’t have friends.”

“DeSilva. He has been visiting you.”

“Fuck, David…” Seth growled in his own impotency. “I need to go.”