Page 52 of Shadowman
“I suppose…”
Glancing at the body on the floor, my mind swarms with thoughts of my former doctor…What would he think about what I’ve done? Will he find out?
Could this… bring him back?
“So… What’s the plan?”Leo asks impatiently.
Wandering over to the couch, I plop down in front of the coffee table, picking up a rolled bill. Tightening it, I stick it up my nose and snort the drug leftovers. Sniffing and swallowing back the bitter taste, I’m hit with an instant rush; a warm wave of confidence and sharp, swift exhilaration.
When I peek back down at the table, I notice something that sticks out. A driver’s license.
Picking it up, I read the name…
Thomas Webber.
My fingers twitch as I read his address, mulling it over. Thisplan.
“Leave a trail of breadcrumbs…” I mumble, my lips sloping into a smirk. “And he’ll have to follow it.”
I’ve often felt that Alabaster Pen mirrors my moods. Rationally, I know that’s not possible. Things happen on a cosmic scale, and I’m not that important. But if you believe in energy shifts, the moons and the tides and all that crap—which I’m not sure I do—then you can understand why I might feel inclined to believe that the constant rollercoaster of highs and lows that is my mental state is directly related to the events of Alabaster Penitentiary.
By my estimation, Kieran O’Malley was ripped out of gen-pop roughly two months ago. It was a quiet afternoon in the Pen. We were playing poker, and I was schooling him, which was entertaining on many levels because he’s the sorest of sore losers, when out of nowhere, Officer Hancock came strolling into our cell and cuffed me.
My first thought wasnot again… Seriously, the dejà vu was kicking. Fast nerves and dread, and the tiniest flicker of thrill that made me want to throw up, rippled through me.
I did my time in solitary after what happened in the Warden’s office. That should’ve been my lesson learned, right there. No matter howgoodhe manipulates you into feeling, there are repercussions when fraternizing with the devil.
At the same time, if Manuel Blanco wants something from you… he’s going to get it. Searching for a rhyme or reason will just stress you out.
So I went with Hancock, my stomach churning and my palms sweating… But we only made it a few feet up the row before he stopped, outside of Ren’s cell. I was relieved, until it dawned on me. The same sort of thing was happening…
I was about to be manipulated; used for someone’s selfish purposes. And I would go along with it, because my body isweak.
That’s exactly what happened, too. Ren had Hancock bring me to his cell so that he could beg me to do some proxy shit with him in the showers, in an effort to get Luthor’s attention.Ridiculous.
He’s forever dragging me into their relationship, wedging me in between them because Luthor won’t give him the time of day. He uses me as a bridge to get the one he actually wants. It’s beenyearsand I still can’t tell if I should be insulted by it.
I guess I’m not… Since I keep coming when he calls, like a stupid fucking lapdog.
Why do I keep going back?
Am I that desperate to feel needed??
Regardless, it was while I was with Ren that O’Malley was snatched up. We only found out later that he was in the East, though it’s still unclearwhy.
He’s been to the East Wing before, strapped to things and experimented on, but never for this long. I’m not sure what they expect to gain from him, but then that’s not something any of uscriminalsare worthy of knowing.
It’s just the Warden. Whatever he says goes, no matter how pointlessly cruel it may seem.Unnecessary pain is his side-hustle.
Within the quiet, I can still hear O’Malley shouting as they hauled him away. Like a reflex, my eyes lift to the mattress above me…
“Focus. Head in the game, remember?”
Ren’s words replay in my mind, his tone meant to calm me down, while also reminding me of our agreement. The one we all made after Freeman was taken.
Always keep your head in the game, no matter what.
Don’t let this place break you.
