Page 18 of The Toymaker

Riju’s fingers kept shaking as the line of stitches grew longer. He was positive his wrist was sprained because it ached around the joint, and he couldn’t move it as much as usual. Holding the cloth steady so he could sew with his right hand was difficult. Wrapping it hadn’t helped much.

He only needed a simple pack to shove his basic possessions into because he wasn’t staying for another day. There was no way he could come out later and pretend everything was fine. Even if he and Trig gave each other the silent treatment, he couldn’t sit at the table for meals or be around him. The very thought turned his guts.

If Trig had hurt him twice within the space of a few minutes and slapped him hard enough to damn near knock off his spectacles, it wouldn’t be the last time. It was like the past few days had come to a head and snapped something in Trig’s brain once he realized he might be losing control over Riju.

He hadn’t hit before because he’d always had a pretty good degree of control, and Riju hadn’t pushed back before. Not like that. If Kit started acting differently because he knew things were deeply wrong, Trig might…Riju didn’t want to think about what other potential problems could start. Tonight, they’d be gone. Staying would endanger him, and Riju wasn’t leaving without him.

Trig tried pleading through the door around lunchtime, and Riju had ignored him. Like he’d take an apology and live in fear of the next time Trig “accidentally snapped.”

He’d listened in case Kit screamed from the basement or if he heard anything odd. Kit knew to scream for him if he felt he was in danger, and if he had to, Riju would go down there. Trig seemed to have spent all day in the shop. He’d caught snatches of conversation from customers and the faint tinkles from the bell.

Which meant Kit was locked in the basement. Unharmed but kept like an animal. Riju almost wanted to take his dagger, go down right then, get him, and try to escape with them both. He forced himself to keep sewing because it’d be a lot easier if he waited, and avoiding a fight was safer for them both. If he went down there and attempted it, Trig would most likely get physical again, and he might hurt Kit too.

As long as Trig didn’t do anything to harm Kit, they could go later tonight when it was safer. Acting too fast could fuck it up.

Noises came from the kitchen. Trig must have been making dinner for himself. Riju’s growing, improvised pack was made from cloth intended to be cut into doll clothes. It didn’t need to be fancy or particularly sturdy since he only needed to use it to get him and Kit out. He wasn’t sure if they’d be able to come back later, so he’d planned ahead.

He ran over what he intended to do in his head. The door handle suddenly rattled.

Trig barged in, and Riju barely got his project shoved under the bed as he realized Trig had used a key. He wasn’t supposed to ever come in without Riju’s permission. Another broken promise.

“Get out!” He pushed himself against his nightstand and grabbed the dagger he’d left by his leg.

With the bed blocking a large part of Riju’s body, Trig couldn’t see it. “I don’t care if you eat in your room and pout all day. Tomorrow morning, you’re coming out, and you’re going to forget this shi-”

Riju couldn’t stop the two words as they tumbled out. “Fuck you.”

Trig took a deep breath. “You’ll feel better tomorrow, and we’ll have a little talk about a few rules I think we need for a while.”

“Where’s Kit?”

“Don’t worry about Kit.”

“You locked him in the basement, didn’t you?”

“I’m doing what I can to keep things calm-”

“You’re a monster.”

Trig looked up at the ceiling for a long moment. “For fuck’s sake. I still have a business to run, and you’re both acting up. We need rules and separation for a bit so we can all calm down.”

“Get the fuck out!” Riju shouted. If he had to hear more of Trig’s bullshit, he’d be climbing the walls in a minute. If the bastard got near him again, Riju would cut him if he had to and risk getting Kit out now.

“Eat your damn stew and grow up.” Trig set the bowl on the floor and went to the hall. He must have put down a glass of water so he could use the key. He set it by the bowl and slammed the door.

Riju listened to his footsteps head toward the kitchen. Trig had promised to never come in without knocking, and if that promise had been broken now, Riju would never have a moment of peace either. This was his private space, and he hadn’t felt so unsafe in years.

He hurried over to lock the door since it would at least give him a couple of seconds if Trig decided to come in again. He ignored the stew and grabbed the glass of water. He had to piss since he’d been in his bedroom all day, and his mouth was dry. He sipped the water slowly, and when he went back to his spot on the floor, he continued sewing and listened.

Trig didn’t head for the basement stairs, so he wasn’t going to feed Kit dinner either. He’d been down there all day with no food or water. Bastard. Riju thought about going to the hall privy so he could relieve himself, but he thought about Trig trying to get him to stay out so they could talk. Or more like, Trig would be telling him what to do.

No. Fuck it. He sewed as fast as he could, even though he’d have to wait to sneak out with Kit.

Trig’s footsteps headed for the sitting room, and after a couple of hours, they went to his office. Riju had finished his pack and given it two straps. He hid it under the bed and finally went to investigate the stew. It was cold and didn’t look appetizing. He’d eaten far worse from the trash during his homeless years.

After sitting at his desk, he took a bite and nearly gagged when his teeth crunched an onion, and he caught the familiar taste. Onions were the one thing he literally couldn’t force himself to eat no matter how hungry he was, and he spit it back out with a faint, revolted sound.

The dickhead still tried to force him to eat onions years later even though he knew Riju couldn’t stand them. If he could stomach trash but not onions, he figured it was pretty clear to leave them out of his food.

Apparently not because Trig might as well control what Riju ate, right?

He left the bowl on his desk even though he could pick them out. He wasn’t hungry anyway. Earlier kept replaying in his head, and he couldn’t even talk to his dolls. Dory was tucked in his coat, and she couldn’t make him feel better either.

He was hugging his knees, huddled on the bed under his weighted blanket, and trying to ignore the desperate urge for the privy when he finally heard Trig go to his room. He couldn’t go just yet even though every fiber of his being wanted to take Kit and haul ass.

Trig probably didn’t imagine Riju had the guts to escape at night.

He stuffed clothes into his pack along with a couple of his favorite dolls. Kit would have to make do with his things, so Riju made a bundle for him to wear along with a pair of old boots. They were worn and likely a little too big for Kit, but they’d have to do. He also took his money from where he’d hidden it under a floorboard.

He’d tucked it away in case their shop was ever robbed. He didn’t think he’d need to grab it and run one night. Most likely, his plan would work, and he wouldn’t even need to dip into his savings, or at least not too much.

Since Trig wasn’t getting away with everything he’d done, Riju and Kit would most likely be set afterward although he felt better with the pack. If anything went wrong, they wouldn’t be stuck with nothing.

After a while, he slipped out of his room and into the privy to relieve himself. Sweet relief. He’d never held his bladder for so long and hoped he never had to again. Back in his room, he turned off his lantern and waited for a while.

He didn’t hear anything from Trig’s room. Dear Elira, please let him be sound asleep.

It had to be after midnight when Riju finally swung his cloak around himself, tucked his arms through the side slits, and slung his pack over his shoulders. It was crooked on his back, and he knew it wasn’t well-made. Oh, well. With the bundle, he listened at his door.

The house was silent. Trig was certainly sleeping like a baby. Like he hadn’t hurt the man he supposedly loved.

He started to shake when he tiptoed into the hallway, silently closed his door, and hugged the bundle of clothes to his chest. If Trig found out what he was doing, he’d get worse than a slap. Kit would too.

He stuck close to the wall. The floor creaked occasionally depending on where one stepped, and while it had never bothered him before, a tiny creak would sound incredibly loud. If Trig woke up and heard…staying to the sides was quieter.

The basement door was latched. He slipped in and closed the door. A lantern had been left on. When he came down the stairs enough to see Kit by the wall, he almost wanted to cry again. He’d been left chained near the wall without enough slack to reach anything, and he was standing.

“Riju?” Relief flooded his face as he spoke in a low voice. “I knew you’d come! We’re leaving now, right?”

“We are,” Riju muttered as he hurried over with the bundle. “Did he leave the key in here?”

“It’s in the cabinet,” Kit said in a low voice as he pointed. “I peed on the floor. I’m sorry. I couldn’t hold it.”

Riju noticed the puddle to one side. “He didn’t even think to leave you a bucket?”

“No. What did he do? I heard you yelling earlier. I was afraid he’d hurt you.”

Riju opened the cabinet and saw the key hanging on a hook on the door. “He was violent. I’ll be fine. We’re not staying here because he’ll do it again, and if he hurts you-”

Trig probably planned to punish Kit for pissing on the floor even though it was ridiculous to expect a person to hold their bladder for that long. Just because Riju had managed all day didn’t mean everyone could. It was manipulative and meant to shame Kit.

“I talked back a lot. I was mad and scared-”

“He’s not punishing you. I won’t let him.” Riju set the bundle by Kit and crouched to undo the shackle around his ankle. “Did he hurt you?”

“No. He said he'd punish me tomorrow.”

Bastard. “Get dressed.”

Kit hurriedly dressed and laced up the boots Riju gave him. “I told him I was done, and I wanted to leave. He threatened me.”

“He’ll hurt us both. That’s why we’re going. Fuck. I forgot a cloak for you.”

“I don’t need one. Come on.” Kit grabbed his left hand.

Riju hissed and drew it back. “It’s sprained.” He used his other to grab Kit’s hand.

“Trig sprained it?”

“He grabbed me.” Riju led him to the door. “We’re going to the gate guards. They’ll help us, and we’ll figure out what to do af-”

Riju’s heart nearly stopped when he heard a faint creak from the basement door, and he paused with Kit on the bottom step as he looked up. Dear Elira, no.

Trig stood at the top in his drawers and a sleep shirt. A few strands of his messy hair hung in his face. Riju had been dead silent. How had he heard anything? Or did he wake up and think to check?

Trig finally broke the silence as he peered at the pair below him. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Riju went rigid as Kit squeezed his hand. “Get out of the way. We’re leaving-”

“The fuck you are!” Trig started coming down the stairs.

Kit pulled on Riju. “You can’t keep us here.”

“If I say you’re not going anywhere-”

“You can’t keep us hostage!” shouted Kit.

“Shut up. You’re the slave.”

“Riju isn’t a slave! You hurt him! His wrist is sprained.”

Riju backed up with Kit. “He’s not your slave anymore, and I’m not staying either. You’ll keep hurting us-and we’re not-we’re not-”

Trig advanced although he didn’t get too close. He shouldn’t have been scary in his drawers and a loose shirt, but Riju had never been so terrified of him before. The incident earlier was nothing compared to them escaping. Trig would hurt Kit too and do it under the pretense of punishing him for breaking so many rules.

He raised his hands. “Riju, you’re overreacting, and things got a little out of control this morning. We were all worked up, and it’s best if we all go to bed like normal, and try again in the morning-”

“Spraining his wrist isn’t getting a little out of control,” Kit snarled.

“We’ll start over and pretend like nothing happened,” Trig told him. “No punishment. No nothing. We’ll all have a good talk to make sure there aren’t any hard feelings.”

He wouldn’t forget. Riju’s wrist throbbed as if to remind him of earlier, and he tugged Kit toward a cabinet. “Bullshit.”

“This is ridiculous.”

“It’s ridiculous that you slapped me and grabbed me hard enough to sprain my wrist.”

“I didn’t sprain your wrist.”

“Yes, you did. Do you think I can’t feel it? Are you going to tell me I’m overreacting about that too when it’s swollen and aching? Do you think you have so much control, you can make me forget everything or not feel the pain you caused? Ridiculous. You promised me you’d never hurt me. You promised you’d never come in my room without permission eit-”

“If you had stayed calm and listened to me, I wouldn’t have gotten so angry,” snarled Trig. “It’s your fault for getting me upset, and a part of being mature is taking responsibility for what you did. You caused this, and running away isn’t going to solve it. Not once have I hit you before.”

“You did now, and I don’t know when it’ll happen again.”

“Get out of the cabinet and look at me,” said Trig. “I’m trying to talk to you, and you’re acting li-”

His expression dropped when Riju pulled out a coiled whip. He had his dagger which could channel his magic, but he didn’t want to get too close or kill Trig.

“Put the whip down,” said Trig.

“No.” Riju let it uncoil and adjusted his grip. “Get out of the way.”

“Kit, tell him to knock this off,” snarled Trig. “You can’t be this stupid to go along with whatever he’s thinking, and if you are, you’re more retarded than I thought.”

“I’m not retarded, and I’d trust him any day of the week over you,” said Kit.

“Put it down before you do something stupid.”

“I said to get out of the way,” Riju adjusted his position. “You know I know how to use it. You taught me. I will strike you with it if you don’t fucking get out of our way, I can have you crying on the floor with a good hit. My right wrist is fine.”

“You’re going to stand there, bitch about me hitting you, and threaten me with a whip?”

“I’m defending myself and Kit. Yes, I will strike you.”

“We can talk in the morning and get over this if we sleep and calm down. Things can go back to the way they were.”

“I don’t want things to go back to the way they were!” Riju practically shouted. “I don’t want to stay here or marry you. I don’t want to be treated like I’m still not good enough or right in your eyes. I want my own life, damn it, and I’m not going to be abused because I stand my ground. I’m not going to let you manipulate another slave either. Now move, or I swear to Elira, I will hit you!”

Trig’s expression darkened so much, Riju was sure he’d do worse than sprain his wrist if he was close enough. All his words about talking were just that: words. His promises had been hollow too. Riju shifted his right hand a little.

Trig finally moved out of the way, and Kit tugged on his cloak. Cautiously, they moved toward the stairs. Riju grabbed the tail to reel it in so the whip wouldn’t be dragging behind him.

Trig watched them. Riju ushered Kit to go ahead of him, and they started to run. Riju was halfway up the narrow staircase when Trig came thundering up.

Riju didn’t catch what he said. His cloak suddenly tightened around his neck, and he lost his footing as Trig tried to yank him back. Kit shouted. The edge of a step dug into Riju’s shin, and the next one hit his waist as Trig’s weight was suddenly on him. He couldn’t use the whip in the narrow space or get himself positioned.

“Duck!”

Riju ducked his head, and Kit’s foot suddenly flew out. Trig roared in pain, and his weight lessened. Riju jabbed behind him with an elbow as he scrambled to get up and out from under him.

“Fuck!” yelled Trig. “You little shit!”

Kit pulled on his arm. Riju dropped the whip and kicked Trig who had grabbed his nose with one hand. Riju was sure he saw blood. He managed to get up and follow Kit into the shop.

“Don’t you dare! You’re not leaving.”

Kit’s hands shook as he fumbled to unlock the door. They made it out into the chilly air as Trig’s feet pounded behind him.

“Get back here!”

Riju grabbed Kit’s arm and raced down the street. His pack bounced on his back as he held onto Kit’s and tried to breathe through his tight chest. If Trig caught them and managed to drag them both in somehow…He’d likely lock them both in the basement.

The streets were empty, and all of the shops were closed for the night. If they shouted, any who had quarters attached to their shop might not hear. Or they might not want to come out and see what was going on since it didn’t involve them. A few crystal lanterns on posts gave off light, and he didn’t see a single person walking home late. Kit managed to keep up with Riju practically dragging him.

Trig’s bare feet slapped the cobblestones behind. What the fuck? Was he really going to chase them so far?

“Riju! I swear to Elira if you don’t get back here!”

Riju had the sudden thought that the guards wouldn’t be near the gate for some reason, and they’d have to make it through the city with Trig chasing them. The buildings toward the front of the grounds were dark, and they darted past a few. Several lanterns by the open gate seemed like a guiding light, and Kit let out a scream.

A head poked out of the guardhouse. “Who’s there?” A man stepped out. “Stop!”

“He’s chasing us-we had to get away-” Kit babbled as they reached the small structure by the gate.

“What the fuck is going on?” asked another guard.

“He’s chasing us!” gasped Kit

The first held up his hands. “Whoa! Who’s chasing you?”

“Stop them!” shouted Trig. “Don’t let them out.”

Riju pulled Kit behind the first guard as his chest heaved, and he forced himself to speak. “He tried to keep us from leaving and-”

“Stop!” shouted the second guard as Trig’s dark shape grew closer.

“I need to get him back inside.” Trig’s breathless voice sounded funny, and in the light of a lantern on the floor, the blood dribbling down his face looked nearly black.

“What the fuck are you doing chasing these two through the streets in your drawers?”

“You know me. Trig? I own…Pleasure and Play, the sex toy shop. I’m not a vagrant chasing people around…”

“Oh.” The first glanced back at Riju and Kit. “Wait, isn’t he your apprentice?”

“Yes. That’s Riju, and Kit’s our pleasure slave. We had a little issue-”

“He attacked Riju this morning, and he locked me in the basement with no food or water,” gasped Kit. “I said I wanted to go. He was going to keep me like a real slave.”

“He tried to keep us from leaving,” Riju managed to say as he tried to get his air back. “He attacked me this morning, and tonight-”

“Don’t listen to him,” snapped Trig, drawing the guard’s attention back. “Riju’s not mentally well, and our pleasure slave intended to rob me. He got Riju to do what he said because he’s retarded, and he’s easily led astray-”

“That’s not true!” shouted Riju. “Kit didn’t steal anything.”

Trig yelled at the guards who appeared beyond confused. They’d probably never had a real issue beyond a couple of petty fights between students or kids trying to sneak onto the grounds for a dare.

The second guard told them all to shut up. “We can’t tell what the fuck is happening when you’re all squawking. You two, go inside the guardhouse.”

“They need to come ho-” started Trig.

“Can you shut up for a moment?”