“He has something I want.”
“So, it’s not about me.”
“I never said it was.”
“You’re a strange man, Joseph.”
“You don’t know the half of it, angel. Your demons are destructive, and I will help you with that. My demons are part of my soul now, and where I go, they come too.”
“Why did you scream in pain when you were in this room?”
I’m intrigued by that because from what I’ve experienced, only peace accompanies a visit here.
“Because pain is my release valve. I crave it to let the demons fly.”
“You like pain.”
I can’t comprehend that, and he sighs. “Su Yin is a master of pressure points. She knows the exact ones to press if I hold anything back from her. She demands my memories, and if I withhold them, she drags them out of me. At some point in all this, the pain became the thing I looked forward to the most.”
“What happened to you, Joseph?”
“Hell, angel. I was born into hell, and I am learning to live with the realities of that.”
He hands me my clothes and then dresses, pulling on the mask, his armor if you like, before shutting down and saying coolly. “This room is the only place I let my guard down. Come here anytime you feel the need for that.”
He turns, and I reach out and grasp his hand and whisper, “Thank you for being so thoughtful.”
I smile in the shadows. “The room I mean. To be honest, it’s perfect, and you were right; it feels comforting and a lot like home except for one thing.”
“Name it and it’s yours.”
I gulp, unsure whether to voice the one thing missing, and the words slip out before I can stop them.
“I’m on my own, and that’s a very scary place to be.”
He says nothing, merely turns and opens the door, light flooding the room, and as I follow him out, I guess we have reached an understanding of sorts.
Perhaps he is not such a monster after all.
CHAPTER 21
JOSEPH
In coaxing Tiffany’s demons out, my own failed to scream. I sat here in the darkness as I have done so many times before. This time I wasn’t on my own. Su Yin doesn’t count. If anything, she is one of them. Making me confront them, tearing them from my memories with pain.
Tiffany shares my dark past.
Her admissions didn’t shock me. If anything, they were tame compared to my experiences, and yet for a small child robbed of her childhood, it was merely a vessel on which to sharpen my claws. Morgan has a lot to answer for, and I wonder who the man in the story was.
It can’t have been Raphael, surely. He is gay to my knowledge. One of the guards, perhaps. I’m guessing Enrico Zaferelli had many of those, but that’s not really Morgan’s style. Women like her don’t do anything without an ulterior motive. Something they can reap the rewards of.
It was about twelve years ago. Perhaps Morgan is still in touch with him. Perhaps they’ve been working together all the time.
Tiffany is silent beside me as we head to the dining room for our wedding feast. As we head inside, I note the care Mrs.Harrington has taken to make it celebratory, from the styled table with candles, cream roses, and white china. A bucket of champagne is nestled on the stand beside my seat, and two glasses sparkle as they catch a glint of the winter sun.
“I love Mrs. Harrington.”
Tiffany’s pleasure is obvious as she smiles at the scene, something that tugs on what passes as my heart.
