Page 71 of Coal Hearts

Murder was rife and accepted.

Rape was common and unchallenged.

Women knew who had the power, and men knew they were untouchable.

This fortress hissed with that history, even if it was fake like Ily said.

The longer I stood in its walls, the more today’s society faded away until I was left in yesterday.

In a time when I would flourish.

A time of debasement and lawlessness.

A time when I could’ve been free.

My fingers curled tighter around the sink, trying to crack the thick porcelain.

You are free.

Free to be good. To be an obedient brother. To be a man unbent by sadistic fucking desires.

My upper lip curled, snarling at my reflection.

I had arguments with those thoughts. I had fears I wouldn’t live up to those thoughts.

With a groan, I ripped off my tie, undid my useless cufflinks, then shrugged out of my blazer and shirt.

The awful feeling that I was on my own increased with every heartbeat.

The sensation that I’d been sent here to fail made claustrophobia claw.

I’d been thrown into a devil’s den without a fucking gun, and I had to admit...I’m in way over my head.

Enough.

Focus.

I would rinse myself clean.

I would stay as pure as I could.

I would march downstairs and do whatever it goddamn took to stay in control, so I didn’t trip into a promised death.

Only a few hours.

He’ll come.

He might not care about me, but he cares about them.

Kicking my shoes into the corners of the bathroom, I did the same to my trousers. Determination filled me to stay good. To recall why I was doing this. To remember the aching loneliness I’d suffered all my life. An ache that could be cured if I did this one thing right.

But of course, fate never played fair.

As my trousers flew to catch on the towel rail, something delicate and pretty fell out of them, fluttering to the floor.

Ah, shit.

Don’t. Ignore it. Get in the goddamn shower, Ri.