“Wyatt?”
Victor. Wyatt’s stomach lurched. Had Victor followed him? He moved deeper within the stall, needing as much distance between them as possible. Maybe if Wyatt stayed quiet, he’d just leave.
“Don’t be shy. I saw you come in here. I wanted to see if you were okay. You didn’t look so good. Have a little too much to drink?” he asked.
“I’m fine,” he muttered even as his stomach churned and his grip on the safe side of the blade tightened.
He was just outside the stall now. Wyatt could see his black loafers peeking under the door. “Did you like my surprise? It took some convincing—and a very large donation—for your father to see the logic of my choice, but I’ve always known how special you are. Always.”
It was Victor’s idea? Victor had literally bought him from his father. His father had no idea what Victor really wanted, but he wasn’t even sure it would have mattered. Wyatt sucked deep breaths in through his nose to keep from throwing up. He wouldn’t do it. He’d never help subject kids to the shit he went through. He’d die first. But Wyatt said none of that. He couldn’t say anything at all. He just stood there, shaking. His skin was in flames, but he was freezing.
“I thought you’d be excited to come back to me. You were always such a devoted student. So eager. You were always my favorite.” He laughed despite Wyatt’s silence. “I know, I’m not supposed to have favorites, but I do.”
Do. Present tense. He was doing the same things to other kids as he did to Wyatt. “You’re fucking sick. How the fuck do you live with yourself? Your torture sessions don’t work. They never have,” Wyatt spat, forcing down the sob threatening to bubble up.
Victor sounded delighted that he’d elicited a response. “Well, now. That’s just not true. Look at you. You have a beautiful girlfriend. You’re about to have a lucrative career. Your father is about to be re-elected. Everything is working out for you. I’d like to think I played a part in that.”
Wyatt’s heart pounded against his ribs, his blood rushing in his ears. “Do you think the things you did to me… the things you made me do… do you think that somehow changed who I was? Prayer didn’t change me. The fucking sick shit you did to me… the shit you’re probably still doing to other boys like me… it didn’t change me. God couldn’t make me not gay any more than he could make you any less of a fucking monster.”
The door rattled as Victor leaned against it. “Don’t be jealous. I never touched those other boys… they were nothing like you… it was only you I couldn’t resist. Don’t pretend you didn’t like it. You came back again and again. What we had was special. We could still have it. Nobody would ever have to know.”
Wyatt slammed his fist against the stall door. “Get the fuck away from me.”
The door to the restroom opened. “Wyatt?”
“Linc?” he managed, relief flooding his system until he was woozy.
“We’re in the middle of a conversation,” Victor said.
“And now you’re not,” Linc said. “Come on, Wyatt.”
Wyatt looked down at the razor in his hand, carefully folding it back into the paper and slipping it into his pocket. He left his jacket on the bathroom floor, needing to get as far away from Victor as possible.
Linc gripped his upper arm, pulling him toward the door. Victor snagged his other arm. Wyatt sucked in a startled breath.
Linc turned, his gaze falling to Victor’s hand on Wyatt’s arm. “You have two seconds to get your hand off him before I tear it off your fucking body and beat you to death with it.”
The older man paled, freeing Wyatt instantly.
Linc took his arm once more, pulling him through the lobby and dragging him into a small, deserted conference room just before the fire exit. As soon as the door slammed shut, Wyatt’s back hit the wall and he slid down it, bracing his elbows on his knees. “I can’t do this anymore, Linc. I can’t. I can’t work for that man. That reporter, she knows about my DUIs. She’s going to expose me, tell everybody what I did, and I don’t even care. I’m just so fucking tired. I’m so tired of all of this.”
Linc knelt beside him, taking his face between his hands. “Say the word and it’s done, baby. We can walk away right now. I’ll find Charlie and it’ll all be over.”
Wyatt shook his head. Linc couldn’t be serious. “I won’t do that to you. You need this money. You and Ellie need it for your dad. I just need a minute. I’ll be fine. I just need to breathe. Why is it so hard to breathe?”
“Because you’re having a panic attack. I’ll find another way to pay for my father’s care. I’m not letting you stay here. Not at the risk of your health… your sanity. Jesus, Wyatt. You’re not going to work for the man who raped you for years. That’s crazy… I’ll have Jackson find me another job.”
Wyatt’s breath caught on a sob, shaking his head. “I’m not worth this headache, Linc. I’m not. Believe me. I’m never not going to be fucked up. It’s just a part of who I am now. I’m just a mess. I will always be this huge mess. I’m a bad investment.”
Wyatt’s heart sank as Linc stood.
“Stand up.”
Wyatt’s gaze jerked upward. “What?”
“I gave you an order. Stand. Up.”
Wyatt did as Linc commanded, even though his knees wobbled.
