Page 2 of Shadowman
Rolling my eyes, I clench my jaw while stomping away from the table. My brain is pinging receptors of many vivid emotions, all of which are bothering me immensely as I sullenly dump my food into the trash, tossing my empty tray into the pile with a huff.
This is all just soannoying. The way I’m filled to the brim with chaotic things that have no business being inside me. The itchy discomfort of feeling like I’m a child again, standing in the corner…
Watching. Always just… watching.
Luthor is one of the very,veryfew people in this world I actually trust. I’d go as far as to call him mybrother, which may be kind of weird, considering recent events. Nonetheless, he’s been my friend since the moment I got here, and I don’t like resenting him for things beyond his control. After all, it’s not his fault his naivety and general sweetness made him easy prey for someone like Ren.
Glancing back over at the table, I scoff internally at their heart-eyes and hushed conversations.
Ren’s such a jealous weirdo.
He had the nerve to imply thatImight have athingfor Luthor. The other day, in the showers… He was messing with me about it. And he couldn’t possibly be more misguided.
I mean, where would he even get that from??
Sure, Luthor and I messed around a tiny bit. Just once. But I’ve also been consistently fucking Ren on and off pretty much since I got here, so it’s really not a big deal.
Plus, he wasthere!With me and Luthor.Heorchestrated the whole thing, as he tends to. One of hisbrilliant schemesto lure Luthor back in, using me as a pawn in his damn sexual games.
I guess I could just tell him to fuck off when he suggests it… But it’s very important to me that they understand how little I care.
I’mnotgay. I’m not interested in men sexually. I never have been…
Yes, we’re in prison, and the options here are severely limited. Understandably, your hand gets old real quick. If someone’s offering, I’ll take it, because a mouth is just a mouth.A hole is just a hole, no matter how surprisingly good it feels.Maybe some more than others…
Whatever.The point is, itdoesn’t matter. Their mess isn’t mine, and fooling around with them is just another way to pass the time in this boring fucking place.
Luthor is still just my friend, and I could fuck Ren a million more times without feeling a goddamn thing. And more to the point, now that he and Luthor are screwing, it’s all irrelevant. Because I assume that means he doesn’t need to use me anymore…
Which isfine.Since, you know, I never cared in the first place.
Ren got what he wanted, and he’ll probably never even think about all the stuff we did together ever again.So… good.
I’m not thinking about it either.
Inside, my stomach is twisting and wrenching. Probably because I barely ate and I’m perpetually starving. A burn is making its way up my throat as I reluctantly wander back toward the table, dreading it and pretending I’m not. But I don’t get more than a step or two before someone appears in my peripheral.
My face shifts, and I peer up at the figure now standing right beside me. It’s the new guy… 102.
His irises shine down at me, and I’m instantly held still, just like when he came up to us the other day. It was the first time I saw him, this new inmate who popped up seemingly out of nowhere, with his peculiar eyes the shade of indigo. They’re practically purple.Very odd.
And he clearly isn’t shy with eye contact.
“Hi again,” he hums quietly. I just blink at the lurching character; tall and slim, with messy black hair and a British accent. “You’re Kang… right?”
I nod slowly, eyes flicking to my table, checking on my friends like a reflex. Ren wasn’t shy about his distrust for this person when we met him in the showers. But he’s one to talk… Ren’s a pretty untrustworthy motherfucker himself.
Either way, it’s irrelevant.Because he’s not paying attention to me, anyway.
“Byron,” I murmur to the Brit. “Your name is…”
“Trevel,” he answers, though it was on the tip of my tongue. A unique name, for sure. “Trevel Fenwick. Newest addition to this bloody nightmare.”
I huff a small breath that’s usually as close to a laugh as you’ll get from me. I’m not one for flagrant laughter.Not many things are all that funny.
Unsure of what to say to the guy, or why he decided to come up to me in the first place, I simply stand still and portray my standard indifference.
“So, how long have you been here?” he asks me, interested, or at least pretending to be.
