“I’m fine,” he whispered. The words wobbled pathetically. “Really, I just need—”
“Cass.” Riot stood.
Suddenly, Cass couldn’t breathe. Riot was moving toward him, unblinking, each step deliberate, and Cass’s back was already against the wall. There was nowhere to go or hide, Riot was looking at him with an expression that made Cass’s stomach do something strange and awful.
“What did he do to your hands?”
The sob in Cass’s chest escaped, broken and childish and humiliating, and then the tears were falling and he couldn’t stop them, couldn’t control anything, couldn’t—
“It’s just spiritual cleansing,” he said. “Negative energy has to be released from the extremities—it helps with earthly attachments—it’s supposed to be private, it’s supposed to be sacred, I’m not supposed to show anyone outside the community—”
Please don’t be mad at me. Please. I can’t handle you being mad at me right now. I’ll break. I’ll shatter into pieces and I don’t know if I can put myself back together.
Riot’s expression went flat. The gold in his eyes seemed brighter somehow, swallowing the green. “Show me what he did, or I’m going to start getting really fucking angry.”
The profanity hit like a slap.
Cass was crying in earnest now—great heaving sobs that shook his whole body. His hands shook so badly he could barely control them as he brought them out from behind his back. Uncurling his fingers was agony and by the time he’d straightened them enough to show the damage, he felt like his face was going to melt off his body.
Riot’s inhale was sharp enough to cut.
When Cass looked up through tear-blurred eyes, Riot’s expression had become scarier; he imagined it was the kind of expression people saw right before they died.
“What else?”
“What do you mean?”
“What else did he do to you?” Riot stepped closer. “Don’t. Lie. To me.”
“Just the regular session,” Cass croaked. “Nothing different. Please, Riot, please don’t be angry—”
“Take off the robe.”
Four words, delivered so quietly they were almost gentle, but Cass heard them like a threat.
“I can’t—” His voice broke on a sob.
“I’m not going to ask again.”
Riot wasn’t moving or touching him, but Cass felt trapped anyway. He was pinned in place by those gold-green eyes and that terrible expression he didn’t understand.
“Please don’t be angry with me.” He fumbled with the knot on his robes. “Please. I know I’m not very good at spiritualdevelopment. I know I’m failing. But I’m trying so hard, I’m tryingso hard—”
The robe fell around his waist.
For a long, horrible moment, Cass just stood there, arms wrapped around himself, trying to hide, his shoulders hunched. The cool air of the room hit his wounded skin and he shivered—not from the cold, but from the unbearable exposure of being seen. Nudity had never bothered him before. He’d bathed in the public pools at Elysian when he was young. He’d cuddled with Honey while she was unclothed, as part of their partnership preparations. Bodies were just bodies. Riot had seen him shirtless already.
But this was different.
This was showing someone outside the community the raw negativity that sat beneath his skin. It was open and weeping and Riot seemed much more enlightened than he realized; he would probably be able to feel it.
This is what I am. This is what’s wrong with me. All my failures written on my body for everyone to see.
Riot made a sound. It wasn’t quite a growl, nor was it quite a word. It was something animal and dangerous that vibrated through the air and made Cass sob harder, making him want to curl into a ball and disappear.
He’s disgusted. He hates me. He’s going to—
Riot turned and walked out the door.
