Page 25 of Shattered Souls

Seek

After the man that touched me early Friday night is taken care of, and respectively disposed of in the barrel, I find Maverick loitering in the food truck area of the park.

I wipe my face to make sure I’m not parading around the evidence of my actions.

“The fuck are you still doing here?” I slap his back and swing my leg over the bench across from him.

“Honestly,” He has a lit cigarette between his black stained lips. “Just fucking tired of home life. Work seems better than going back there and dealing with my folks and my girl yelling at me.”

“Man,” I try to give him an empathetic look, but the way his pack of cigarettes is laid on the table is consuming most of my thoughts. “I get that.”

“Really?” He chuckles, and removes his cigarette, exhaling his smoke towards my face. “I thought you sat here and rotted with your brother and did nothing else. I mean, what do you guys even do when the park is closed?”

“Being cooped up with that psycho is enough to drive anyone mad.” The words leave a bad taste in my mouth the second they slip out. I’ve spent so many years being the not so silent protector for my twin. We both have different yet similar ways of dealing with the shit we went through as kids.

I torture.

He enjoys chopping them up into tiny pieces.

Since both of those coping mechanisms are illegal, and highly frowned upon, we both found jobs that suited those desires. Unfortunately, I haven’t killed any of my patients in years. Now, I just work quietly and keep light on my feet on how to keep someone alive long enough to have my fun with them.

“I can’t say I blame you. Dude looks like a fucking deranged murderer.” He must see the way I’m staring at him. Because he quickly clears his throat. “No offense—of course.”

“All bark—no bite.”

“Yeah, ‘cause of the muzzle.” He flicks ash onto the table. “Anyway,”

“Go home, Maverick.” I stand and make my way back towards the house.

“Hey, Seek!” He calls out to me. “Leave some of the crowd for us next week!”

I roll my eyes and ignore his calls.

Hyde is lounging on the couch when I enter the living room. He’s chilling in his boxers and nothing else—sporting the four pin holes on his shoulder with pride.

“Why do you look so smug?” I walk into the kitchen and grab a water from the fridge. Keeping my eyes over my shoulder to see his reply.

“She’s clean.” He signs with a strange yet haunted look shimmering in his eyes. With his lack of words, those eyes hold a world of things left unsaid.

“Clean as in, you licked her clean, or hosed her off in the fun room?” I can’t say I’d blame him for licking her clean, though it would be shocking if that were the case.

“Showered her in my room.” My hand falters on the water bottle.

“You let her out?” I bring the bottle to my mouth.

“The cuffs,” He thinks for a second. “I cut the pink fur off.”

“No fun. I wanted her to think we’re soft and cuddly.” I say with a chalky tone. “Did she behave?” I know that we agreed to keep her for the both of us, but I can’t deny the twinge of jealousy that blossoms in my chest at the fact he didn’t even ask me before doing it.

I know that this can never work if I form this possessiveness over her. Currently, sitting in the makeshift prison, she has consumed most of my thoughts since I found out she was nestled in there. And since Hyde told me that we could share her spoils—well, I’ve spent my free time during shifts daydreaming of the things I could do to her—and with her.

“She’s clean.” He signs with a shrug.

“Very descriptive as always, brother.” I place my bottle down in front of him and plop my sore ass next to him.

“She found your body?” He signs, smelling the chemicals that still cling to my shirt.

“She lost her fire and went into the manor to try and distract us. I hadn’t had time to move the body back away from the props, so, of course, she let her hands get curious.” I organize the few things on the coffee table and shoo Hyde’s feet off of the surface.