Page 16 of Brutal Captivity

“No, it’s wool. It’s designer.” Callisto’s voice has gotten high and shrill, as if saying that its designer makes it so much better. I shake my head with a humorless laugh. This feels like the twilight zone or some shit. He can’t actually believe spending four thousand dollars on a coat is normal, but the look on Callisto’s face tells me otherwise. He not only thinks it’s normal but acceptable.

“So, because it’s designer, that means it’s worth it?” I ask, and Callisto nods his head, as if it’s obvious. “I don’t understand. You said it is made of wool. My coat is made of wool as well, and I spent a very small fraction of that amount on it, plus it is a few years old. The only difference is yours has a designer label. So that makes it better? Even though it is made out of the exact same material as mine, you spent four thousand dollars on yours?” Callisto’s large mouth gapes after my speech.

“It is pretty clear that you just don’t understand fashion.” Callisto regains his footing a bit, barely sputtering on the response. I was waiting for that answer. It’s the same thing people say about art. If someone voices not liking it, then it is automatically because that person must not understand it. I don't care to understand it, though.

Callisto continues, “That’s a special item though, on average, I spend probably somewhere between three and four thousand dollars a season.”

“And that’s just on clothes?” I confirm, again, trying to keep my voice neutral even though I’m still very much annoyed. I could fucking scream, and I can tell Callisto is already getting irritated by the conversation. He shuts himself off, crossing his arms in front of his chest, tanned unmarked skin stretched over taut muscles.

“Yeah. That’s not including shoes, or accessories like hand bags, hats, or sunglasses. Oh, or maintenance like manicures and pedicures or even facials,” Callisto rattles off as if he can't stop himself, and my head spins.

“Wow. You have no concept of how the real world works.” Shock bleeds into my voice as a humorless chuckle slips past my lips. I place my hand on the counter, needing something to do other than ball it into a fist and stop myself from punching the spoiled bastard in the face.

“It’s not my fault people are poor, and I was born wealthy! So why do I have to pay for it?” Callisto’s voice is shrill, almost on the verge of whiney as he gestures wildly, almost hitting the cabinets in the process. A pang of what could only be described as hurt punches through my chest, but it quickly morphs into anger. I can’t even fucking believe it. Did he seriously say that? I ball my hands into fists resisting the urge to strangle the fucker.

“So, you’re saying they deserve to be poor?” I take a step closer to Callisto. He doesn’t move back, but he’s watching me with wide eyes. I don't see fear within them, more curiosity and anger, as if he refuses to back down.

“No…” The word is weak as it trails off because he doesn’t seem to know what else to add. His mouth is open, gasping for air. He looks around the room as if the toaster will provide the answer as to why some people in the world deserve to be poor.

“Then what the fuck are you saying?” My voice drops low once more as the question comes out of barely parted lips and gritted teeth. I’m fuming, but I cannot strangle the pretty rich boy, yet. Peadar would kill me first off and, secondly, I don't actually know if I want Callisto dead.

“I don’t know! Just that it’s not my fault, and there isn’t anything I can do about poverty.” Callisto crosses his arms over his chest again as if he is trying to protect himself from my scrutiny. He’s breathing heavily now, his chest heaving under his borrowed shirt. A few seconds tick by, but the sight does nothing to quiet the chaos in my chest. I always get angry when the rich dismiss poor people simply because they aren’t as lucky as them.

“You could use some of that goddamned money to keep people alive,” I say, my voice dropping into a low, dangerous register as I step closer. I know how muchIneeded money to keepmealive.

“My father gives to charity,” Callisto fires back, his chin lifting defensively, though his voice lacks real weight. He uncrosses his arms and lets them fall to his side. I take a step closer. We are now inches apart.

A harsh, humorless laugh cuts from my throat. “Just because your daddy signs a couple of tax write-off each year so he can sip overpriced champagne at galas doesn’t mean he gives a single fuck about the people on the streets!” I yell, my breath whooshing over Callisto’s face. He flinches this time.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Callisto, open your fucking eyes! There are kids sleeping under the bridges downtown. Teens who got kicked out with nothing but the clothes on their backs, starving in the freezing mud while you’re crying over the fact that your overpriced clothes are out of season. Donating a fraction of your allowance isn’t a fucking hobby. It’s the difference between some kid waking up tomorrow or freezing to death on a piece of cardboard that they call a home.”

“I know I was born lucky!” Callisto screams, as he pokes my chest with one long, ringed finger, the paint on his nails starting to chip. I freeze, my muscles locking into stone at the sudden impact. “You don’t have to lecture me! I’m just one person. Me buying a sandwich for a homeless person isn’t going to curesystemic poverty, Leo! It’s not my fault, yet you’re standing there looking at me like I’m the one that caused it all!”

“I’m not asking you to fix the world,” I growl, closing the distance until his finger is crushed between our chests, my heart hammering against his hand. I bite my tongue so hard, I taste copper, forcing down the desperate urge to scream thatI was one of those fucking kids.That a single, nameless drop of money was the reason I didn't die in an alley at sixteen. “I’m saying you save the ones you can. One meal. One bed. One warm coat. It matters to the person who has nothing.”

Callisto’s mouth opens and closes, his red lips looking shiny with spit. His jaw is flexing with the movements, strong muscles wrapping around bone, and I want to trace them with my tongue. I’m angry, but my body is responding to being in such close proximity to him. Our chests heave with deep breaths, rubbing against each other when we both inhale simultaneously.

“How do you know I don’t buy meals for homeless people?! You act like you know everything about me when you know absolutely nothing!” Callisto's hot breath wraps around my face with each harsh word. It smells minty and sweet, an odd mixture of toothpaste and breakfast. I don't know how we got this close to each other, but we are now toe-to-toe, our noses inches away from one another. My eyes drift to Callisto’s mouth over and over. I don't know what my obsession is with his mouth, but I want to taste it.

“I know because you’re a fucking spoiled little brat who turns his pretty little nose up at the world as if everything else on the planet is beneath him. You and your prissy little friends probably have gone on thousand dollar vacations and traveled the world on your yachts but have never seen the streets downtown. There is nothing special about you, nothing unique. You’re just a princess with a wallet as big as your ego. You wouldn’t last a fucking day on these streets without daddy’s checkbook in your designer purse.” There is so much ice in my tone, it could freeze the entire city twice. Callisto looks down, a hurt expression ghosting over his face for a split second before it’s gone, quickly replaced by anger. His nostrils flare, and I can’t help but smile because I obviously struck a nerve.

“Yeah? Well, you’re an imperious criminal who has made all of his money off the injustices of the system. Everything you have can be attributed to the atrocities you’ve committed. You’ve not only taken the lives of people, but you’ve also taken the lives of their family when their children wonder why their dad never came home. You act like you’re so much better than me because you know the streets, but the reality of it is that you’re not better than anyone.You’re the lowest of the low. You’re not even a human. You’re a monster among men. I may be lucky with how I got my money, but at least I didn’t steal it from people who earned it or take it from the payroll of an evil man,” Callisto responds coolly.

The sting of his words feel like a slap in the face, the air visibly leaving my body. Does he remember who he's talking to? Does he remember what I am capable of? I’m so mad, and all I want to do is shut Callisto up, so I do. I lunge for him, wrapping my hands around his pretty, tanned neck. I squeeze, watching his eyes as they bug out in surprise. He freezes, not moving a single inch. We stare at each other, neither of us breathing for entirely different reasons. He can’t. I won’t.

Instead of applying more pressure, I use his throat as leverage and bring his lips to mine. The breath leaves Callisto’s nose and hits my cheek. His lips are everything I thought they would be, warm and soft. He tastes like toothpaste and syrup, and I moan, deepening the kiss. A few seconds later or it could be hours, I come to my senses and push him away forcefully.

Callisto’s eyes are wide as his hips hit the counter behind him. He grabs his throat in the exact same place my hands were wrapped around it moments ago. His other hand touches his lips as if he can’t believe what just happened.

I wipe my mouth, almost disgusted with myself for both doing it and enjoying it so much. My dick hardens in my pants, and my breath is coming out in quick, sharp huffs. What the fuck just happened? One minute we were arguing and the next we were kissing while I choked him. Is the room spinning or is it my head?

I can’t do this. I have to get out. I can’t continue being in the same room as Callisto. I can’t. I don’t even glance in his direction as I shove my feet into my boots then slam the door behind me, making sure it’s locked. I don't remember what I said to the guard outside, and I don’t care. I need to get as far away from the house and Callisto as possible.

eight

“Wish I could say the same.”- Callisto

ThursdayAfternoon…