"Pain."
"Yes, but where? Did your body light up like a Christmas tree? Was it so strong it almost felt good? Did you come?"
I stopped in my tracks. "Excuse me?"
He laughed. "Oh, sorry. I just thought we were past polite, awkward flirting. The whole,will we, won’t wething is over and done now.”
“Yes, because we did.” I pointed out and started walking again. “And no, I didn’t... come.” I shuddered. “It was just pain. Lots of it. I couldn’t think.”
“That’s the point, isn’t it? To make it so you can’t think. So you don’t remember damning pieces of evidence. Wouldn’t want that coming out, would they?”
“Who?”
“Your aunt, your parents, everyone who covered up what your brother did. Cunningham’s is for people with money. A large number of them should have been in prison, not in a mental institution. Your brother is one of them.”
“And what about yourself? Should you have been in prison as well?” I snapped back. I didn’t like how he talked about Priest as if he was this atrocity. He didn’t know Priest the way I did.
“Absolutely, I should have."Silence thickened the air.Was he saying that he too had...
We reached the doors that led to the back of the hotel.
"Why do we have to go outside?" I asked again.
"Are you scared I'll hurt you?" Moth tilted his head to the side.
"Yes," I confessed.
"I can't. Come with me and you'll see why."
"Why you can't hurt me?"
"That, and why it wasn't me you've been having sex with."
It felt so... vulgar when he said it. Maybe I wasn't cut out for writing romance. If I couldn't say sex, could I write it? Moth seemed to read my thoughts.
"Come on, Miss Aspiring Author. You want to be able to write more detailed, realistic prose, here's how."
Cautiously, I stepped outside with him, wrapping my arms around myself for extra warmth.
"You ever seen one of these in real life?" he called over his shoulder, heading to the maze. It was dark, but floodlights attached to the building lit the ground enough to lead us there.
"No." I looked up at the tall walls. "Is there light inside?"
"No, but you'll be fine. Here." He reached for my hand and squeezed. I shuddered. His hand was colder than the weather. "Now tell me more about the shock treatment. What exactly were they trying to get rid of inside your brain?"
"Why are you so interested? I don't want to talk about it."
He stopped short and let go of my hand. "Tell me, or I leave you here."
"I'll just go back inside."
"Can you find your way back before I do? Because I'm a bit faster and I have no issue watching you die in here."
My body shook from the cold. Or was it the fear? Both were fair assessments. "They wanted me to confess what I knew about Marco, and when I wouldn't, they decided it was best for me to forget everything about it altogether."
"That doesn't make sense." He stepped forward, taking us deeper into the maze. "Why would they want you to forget a crime, instead of torturing the truth out of you?"
"Because I couldn't remember it exactly, but I was constantly being triggered by things. It was becoming worse and worse. They did it for my own good."
