Page 147 of Eight of Swords, Part Two

Riley has no energy left to cry when it sets in.

The horror of it breaks him.

He lets it.

Troy has to drag him up onto the roof now.

Riley doesn’t even want the moon to see him like this.

‘It’s gonna be fine,’ Troy tells him with a bite of impatience up on the roof when Riley just lies there, stares unseeingly ahead. Troy is breathless from carrying Riley through the hatch over his shoulder. ‘People adjust to worse and anyway, so what if you have a bit of both?’ Riley says nothing, doesn’t move, doesn’t respond. ‘Look at me, Riley. Look.’ Troy claps his cheek. Riley doesn’t react. ‘Come on, kid. You’re tougher’n this.’

But he’s not.

He’s just… not.

Cold, maybe. Calculating once upon a time. Riley has no qualms with violence or killing, but he doesn’t think any of these things make him tough.

He’s expecting Troy to leave him up here for a few hours like he usually does, but for once, the older man sits beside him, knees raised.

He lights a cigarette and just sits there while Riley lies with his cheek on the rough grit of shingle, hearing and smelling things from miles away.

At length, Troy says, ‘You’re just like your momma.’

Riley blinks slowly.

Despite himself, he’s curious.

Troy waits.

He’s a fucker like that.

Riley forces himself to look over.

The tiny movement is sufficient for Troy to speak more.

‘She couldn’t bear bein’ trapped either. Drove her crazy, and that was before she knew what he was planning.’

It’s clever bait.

He’s luring Riley into asking things.

Asking things like, ‘Who is “he”?’

Riley won’t fall for it. He won’t.

‘She was strong enough to do what she needed to do for you. Doesn’t that mean anything? That she risked it all to get you free?’ Troy sighs, smoking slowly. ‘Thing is, that girl who tried to take you—’

‘Don’t talk about her.’

‘—she’s got her own reasons for wanting you, Riley. The law of her fuck-ass country states that no woman will ever wear the crown. Your momma told me all about this.’

‘Told you… what?’

‘Your momma was the eldest daughter. She was under a lot of pressure to provide a son to the man her father sold her off to,’ Troy explains. ‘That son would inherit the crown and a whole lot else, but she knew it’d be nothing but misery for you, so she faked your death and I helped her do it.’

‘You?’

‘Me.’