“Can I help ye with anythin’?”
“Ah…I’m a little lost,” Cecil admitted hesitantly. “I was looking for the TV room.”
Roth laughed. “Aye, this place is a mite confusin’. Well, ye’re in luck as I can guide yer way!”
“Uh…thank you?” Cecil mumbled, his words tainted with the bitter taste of distrust.
Och, Cecil’s hesitation pulled at his heart. Unfortunately, his big size often caused fear in those who had been hurt. It was upsetting, but it did make it easier for him to spot victims.
“Let’s go.” He backed out of the doorway and started back the way he came, making sure to shorten his strides for the much shorter Cecil.
The lad kept a certain distance behind him the whole way. When they made it to the rec room, Cecil stayed behind him. It took Roth looking back and staring for the lad to slowly hedge out from his hiding spot.
The occupants of the room didn’t notice them at first, but when they did, the pool balls stopped, the discussions ended, and the games paused. Besides the noise coming from the TV, the room was silent. All focus was now zeroed in on them.
Cecil took on the appearance of a frightened beastie; his eyes widening, his breath catching in his throat—non-moving. Roth was sure the laddie was thinking about fleeing.
The lot were all a bit unique. Unlike their boss, all of them were not the most respectable in appearance. The quiet didn’t last long.
When they rushed at them from their various positions, all babbling loudly, Cecil grabbed Roth’s forearm. His griptightened by the second, and a tremor ran through Cecil as he tried to hide again by pressing his face against Roth’s back.
Considering what the lad had done previously, Roth would have thought he’d be okay with crowds.
Of course, there could be another factor in play. While a few at Bellfall were Cecil’s size, the rest were quite a bit bigger. If the fact that they were all converging on him at once was not frightening enough, their size would do the trick.
Fidgeting on the couch, Cecil kept glancing at Roth. The man looked fine, and hadn’t said a word about him having a slight panic attack. And because he didn’t smell or see blood seeping through Roth’s long sleeve top, it meant his nails apparently hadn’t punctured skin, as he first thought.
Which was a good thing. Clinging to someone he barely knew, however, was not. It was embarrassing as hell. His face was on fire. Cecil was regretting having ever left his room, but hindsight was a bitch.
Having felt cooped up and way past tired of eating peanut butter sandwiches, he had ventured out and gotten lost just a few minutes later. After entering multiple bedrooms by accident—because he temporarily forgot about the doorknobs—he ran into Roth.
Damn, he didn’t like touching people, or people touching him. Cecil only bothered when the dumbasses he stole from needed a bit more coercion to follow him. During those simple points of contact, he felt like they had infectedhim. It made his skin crawl, and Cecil always needed to bathe afterward.
Oddly enough, Cecil hadn’t felt that way when it had been Sin. He was going to chalk that up to the man’s lack of sexual intentions toward him.
All that aside, why the hell were Sin’s people so big? Even the women were taller and had more muscles than him. Cecil could just imagine how much damage they could cause.
Besides being big, they were all so…different. It was not the variety of horns, pointed ears, tails, and whatnot—those were common in the Second Realm—it was how they held themselves. Some moved like predators, their movements very purposeful. Then there were the ones who were full of energy, who never stopped moving, like Benji, and others who were as laid back as Roth—some even more so.
What seemed to be absent was the pure air of sophistication that Sin exuded. Not that there weren’t a few that were pretty well put together, they just lacked something that Sin had.
And the way they dressed…piercings, fancy clothes, leather pants, torn jeans, tight jeans, T-shirts, pressed shirts—it was like a damn mall had thrown up. Every style of clothing was represented.
When they had first entered, all Cecil had seen was chaos. There had been arguing, laughing, running, and even people wrestling on the ground. All mixed together, they seemed so different that they somehow fit.
Imagine his surprise when all the activities stopped and everyone turned to look at him. Cecil had never felt so uncomfortable in a crowd.
He had never thought of himself as a coward. Yes, hehad run from his father, but he had never bowed to the man. He had never let his fear take over, or allowed his father to win. For him, running wasn’t cowardice, it was survival.
However, what he had done earlier was what a coward would do. Hiding behind someone for protection was something he had never done. No one had wanted to protect him, no one had wanted to stand by him. Friends at school had always left. Cecil’s problems had always been too much for them to deal with. They wanted nothing to do with him. Adults, hah…
At least, the kids had just wanted to save their own asses. The adults tried to blame Cecil—that his problems were somehow his fault. Like Cecil had asked to get the crap kicked out of him. For him, safety in numbers was just a big fat lie.
Moving through crowds, unnoticed until he needed someone to see him…well, Cecil had done it too many times to count. Being in focus shouldn’t have changed that. There had been a shit ton of them, but still…
Why the hell were they all here anyway? Shouldn’t they be working or something? How many people lived here? There was no fucking way that all the Zaytari in the area stayed here. But what if they did?
Cecil rolled his eyes—no, no, that would be ridiculous. He knew for a fact there was a smaller branch less than an hour away. Not to mention small outposts in between, and in each city and town.
