Page 153 of Shrapnel

Ian hit him again. Fists and boots. He kicked him so hard Jamie actually lifted off the ground and rolled. All he could do was tighten up into a ball and try not to focus on any specific spot of pain.

He thought about Elijah the last time they had watched a movie. As usual, Elijah had fallen asleep thirty minutes in. Noah and Jamie spent the rest of the movie tossing popcorn into his open mouth. When he woke up, he chased them both around the apartment before shoving Jamie’s head into the couch cushion and spanking Noah, dragging him to their bedroom. They had been laughing.

Jamie remembered when laughing hadn’t hurt.

“Stop…” he finally begged, pushing himself on all fours so he could retch into the sand. His dignity was mixed in with the bile.

“Just let me leave…please…” he mumbled through swollen lips. He tasted blood but he didn’t know where it was coming from.

Dominic was silent. That’s when Jamie realized what he said.

“No, wait, I didn’t mean that…” he tried to make his words come out stronger than he felt.

Ian didn’t hit him. That was bad. His arms shook and he tried to climb to his feet. His torso was one giant bruise and his bones refused to support him.

“Seems like you still aren’t with me, little fox.”

“I am. I’m here—please.” Jamie hated himself. He hated himself for begging, but the words came out before he could stop them. A self-preservation tactic deployed by his body without his mind’s choice.

He cried out when he was grabbed by the back of the neck. Jamie’s legs couldn’t keep up with Ian as he dragged him into the big building.

The Dusty Trail was a defunct wild west attraction. Set miles into the desert, with nothing around, it was an actual ghost town. Cutesy western themed buildings had fallen into disrepair after the bank took hold of the property for non-payment. The furniture was left behind, covered in dust and bugs as the desert began to take hold of the place.

There was nothing interesting about The Dusty Trail. No one came to visit the abandoned tourist trap. Not even the occasional vlogger with their iPhone on a selfie stick. It was just forgotten.

Which made it perfect for Dominic. He set up shop in the cantina. The bedrooms on the second floor had been largely untouched by nature, and it was there Ian was dragging Jamie. Passed the old oaken bar and the stage where girls did high kicks. His feet thumped up the stairs, unable to gain purchase with his jelly spine.

Spots danced in front of his vision and he hoped he would pass out.

The last bedroom on the left had been given to Jamie. Although given might be too strong a word—it implied he wanted it. Really, it was the only one with a lock on the outside. Ian tossed him inside. Jamie rolled pathetically as he tried to protect what was left of him.

Dominic’s slow, measured steps echoed around the hall as he made his way to the room.

“It’s ok,” he said sadly, like he was speaking to a wayward youth. “I’m not angry. I know it will take some time for you to adjust.”

Jamie looked up from where he was sprawled, blinking until the three Dominic’s became one and a half.

“You were like this before. Stubborn and rebellious. I found it endearing, but it’s growing tiresome.” He fiddled with something in his hand, handing it off to Ian. It looked like a glasses case. The hinged lid opened, and Ian turned his back to Jamie while he retrieved the contents.

“Do you remember what I used to do? To make you complacent?”

Horror clawed its way through Jamie’s pain. He began shaking his head, not caring that it felt like his brain was a pin ball.

“I don’t need it, please, Dominic…I won’t miss again…don’t…”

“I’m sorry, little fox.” He sighed deeply.

Ian turned with a syringe in his hand. Jamie’s heels scraped against the rough wooden floor as he tried to escape. His back hit the wall, bits of wallpaper drooping over his shoulder.

“Please! Don’t do this! You know what will happen!” Jamie begged.

“I do,” Dominic answered solemnly.

Ian grabbed him, wrestling him to the floor. Sitting on his chest, he pried Jamie’s arm free and pressed the needle into his vein. Jamie sobbed, shaking his head as flames licked up his arm where the drugs pushed into his system.

Ian sat up, letting Jamie curl up into himself, face to the floor.

“I also know there is no honor in survival.” Dominic reached for the doorknob, closing the door behind him. Before it clicked, he looked over his shoulder. “Something you’ll have to learn.”