“Once, asshole. That’s all I’m giving you. He’s a heavy bastard, and I’m not dragging him to his cell,” Thomas snaps. Ten bucks says Lyle will zap me at least once more before we reach Elite. Then I see a syringe appear like magic in Thomas’s hand. “Sorry,” he mumbles before sticking the needle in my neck.
“No worries, man,” I grunt, glad I’m alive-ish.
Whatever trizapam is doing inside me feelsreallynot good.
I close my eyes, a crooked grin playing on my chapped lips for the initial blessed seconds as ket skids through my veins. But the pain comes. Subtle at first. A slow build now that my body has grown used to this shit. But holy hell, I can still remember the first time they dosed me. Ket hit my bloodstream like ten seconds of pure bliss followed by instant agony. At least now I have a few minutes before I’m a mindless sack of shit, drooling all over myself as synthetic agony fucks me up for hours.
Thomas shoves Lyle out of the way and secures my wrists. He forces the younger guard to lead us out. We descend the octagon’s platform, and hands grab at me. People call me by my bullshit fake name. I ignore everything around me as usual, reminding myself that one way or another, this is my last trip up the aisle.
The guard already has the door open for us. The trek down to the dungeon is a melancholy and dishonorable victory walk.
Lyle actually behaves as we continue past the gates, where Adam, as always, congratulates me on the win, but he’s not his usual giddy self.
“Gonna miss you around here, Atticus,” he says through the speaker.
He doesn’t mean my escape, obviously.
I give him a playful pout, so tired and banged up that my legs are ready to buckle under my weight. “Hate to have to die.”
“At least you went out on a win.”
“Right?” I say with mock enthusiasm. “Could have been worse. I could have died an honorable death in the cage instead of being tortured to death because I fucked the boss’s wife.”
“Open Elite,” Thomas snaps. The lock clicks, and he jerks me forward. “Come on. You look like you’re about to drop, you overgrown asshole.”
“Eat a bag of dicks,” I mutter and shuffle past him into the cell.
Holy shit, it’s hot in here. My mouth is a desert, thirst its own torment. I drop on the mattress, then cringe when ket amplifies whatever’s broken in my abdomen.
“You can deal with him. I’m outta here,” Lyle announces as if anyone gives a shit.
Thomas sneers at Lyle, selling the lie that he’s pissed he’s leaving. “Yeah, you do that, you lazy sack of shit. I’ll do both of our jobs.”
Lyle shrugs. “Low man on the totem pole gets the grunt work.”
Thomas flips him the bird as Lyle strolls out. He angles his head so the camera can’t see his face. “You okay?”
“Not even a little.”
“I said let him hurt you, not get beat half to death.”
I snort out a laugh. “Sorry, my bad.”
Thomas pauses, glances up at the camera, then back at me. “Just want you to know, you’re a good man, Wraith, no matter what you may think.”
“Yeah, okay.” I’ve never been a good man. “What about you?”
My words are slurring. Drugs are making it difficult to talk. Or is it pain making it hard to speak?Whatever. Just know the world is getting dark. Distant. Body’s getting heavy. The brain is all fuzzy.
“Jamie wants us in Mayhem, but we weren’t sure if we’d be welcome.”
“Fuck yeah, you’re welcome.”
“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind,” Thomas says. “Roger’s staying here to keep an eye on Crane, and I have a family I can’t leave.”
“Bring them to Mayhem.”
“It would have been too suspicious to move them.” He walks to the door. “Sleep, Wraith. It’ll be easier for you that way.”
