Page 133 of Eight of Swords, Part Two

Riley doesn’t care.

He sinks into the recesses of his mind and replays every moment he had with Céliane. He treasures and obsesses over every little thing she told him.

Especially the part about his brother.

✴

The next few months are the cradle of the new state between Riley and Troy, who never fails to take it personally that Riley won’t speak to him. Riley refuses to utter one single word no matter what Troy threatens.

One thing about Troy Harker, he’s not a man to make empty threats.

He left Riley there for three days in his own filth with no water, no human contact, nothing. When he threatened to take away his books unless Riley told him about the escape attempt, Riley’s silence bought exactly what he paid for. The books are gone. When Troy says there’ll be no fresh fruit or vegetables unless Riley agrees to do the secrecy tests again, the only food Riley gets from then on is the same greasy slop the men eat. When Troy threatens to belt him unless he writes down what happened, Riley’s refusal earns ten lashes across the back of his thighs.

Riley’s skin is hot. His hands are shaking all the time, and the ache in his middle is only getting worse. On the rare nights he’s spared Troy’s company, he draws himself cold baths and sinks beneath the surface where it’s dark and safe. No smells, no sounds, only the cool arms of the water to wrap around him and hold him close.

As time passes, Riley masters his new senses.

His ears are stronger than before. He can selectively hear from far away now if he focuses. His sense of smell never dimmed, but he’s learnt to ignore it when he needs to the way his eyes ignore his nose, and now his vision has sharpened too. This new sight comes in with no crash landing of headaches or nausea, which is a rare blessing.

Just as Riley can blur his eyes at will, so too he can clarify his sight if he strains. If he does it for too long, then his nasal cavity begins to sting and a headache blooms at the base of his skull. He can see incredibly well, not that there’s much to see in this place.

Two rooms and nothing more.

He paces, unable to sit, unable to sleep.

The night is calling to him.

Family is waiting for him.

Is she all right?

Where is his brother?

Why did his mother leave him here?

He needs to know.

Twice, Zachary comes to his room and tries to talk to Riley, but he ignores him. He hates everyone who isn’t Céliane and his mother Isabel and his brother Julian. His hands itch to break things. His temper is paper-cut raw. Cold baths help, but after two months of beatings and disgusting food, Riley starts throwing himself against the wooden door.

He’s surprised that it gives so easily.

Troy comes running to the top floor. When he sees the splintered mess Riley made of the thick wooden structure, his eyes widen.

Riley feels a lick of pride for the first time.

Troy beats him within an inch of his life for it because Troy Harker is a violent man. His solutions to problems are naturally violent.

It makes sense that he would try to fix Riley with violence.

Troy ties him to the bed again afterwards, and Riley listens for the next two days as something new is drilled into the wall downstairs. When he’s released, he sees that there’s no replacement door for the one he broke. Instead, a rolling set of bars has been installed at the bottom of the staircase that leads up to his room. They slide into place, heavy-duty iron. The sound is loud and mechanical, a buzz of electricity spiking each time they’re opened or shut. Food and water are passed through, left there for Riley. It’s a prison cell, nothing more.

No books. No paper. No light. No air. No sky.

No family. No love. No moon.

Riley didn’t have much of a heart to break, but this puts a crack right down the middle of it. Isolated to this degree, he slowly devolves.

He comes close to losing his mind.