Page 83 of Shadowman
Finally, he spoke again. It wasn’t what I expected. “Are you telling me the truth, Byron?” he asked me calmly, as if he didn’t reallyneedto, but still, he preferred to do his due diligence.
I nodded slowly, a persistent ache in the now hollow cavity where my heart used to be.
I’m never going to see him again…
“Yes…” I whispered hoarsely. “But I wish I wasn’t.”
The Ivory rumbled, “And why’s that?”
“Because it won’t change anything,” I sighed. “I’m never getting out of here… am I?”
He shook his head, almost solemnly on my behalf.
I breathed harshly, swallowing back the emotion rising in my throat. “So there you have it. I’m fucked for the rest of my life, all because I fell… in love.” I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood. I didn’t know why I was confessing this to him when I hadn’t even said those words tomyself. “I should’ve stayed in the fucking dark.”
“No,” he rumbled firmly, and I glanced up. “Falling in love is the most exquisite pain, Byron. No matter how deep the cut, how nasty the gash… it still feels likeblisswhile you’re bleeding out… Doesn’t it?”
Gazing at him, my eyes remained locked on his face, the sharp contours and severe lines. The deep blackness of his irises holding me still, like large hands squeezing my throat.
I nodded, because it felt good. I didn’t understand how orwhy. But it was like comfort. Like…home.
Slowly, he moved to release me from the straps of the chair without speaking another word, strong fingers brushing my hair once more, petting me gently.
“Relax in here as best you can,” he whispered. “I’ll send someone to fetch you and show you to your cell.”
There was so much I wanted to say, but I knew it was no use. Something about this experience felt… final.
Something in the air here felt permanent.
He was wrong about me. I wasn’t one to beg for my life or to make excuses. And honestly… without Michelangelo, aftercoming so close to my light, only to be stuffed back into the darkness of the closet… What difference did it make if I was locked up or roaming free?
Resigning myself to my situation, I nodded slowly, swallowing a massive lump in my throat.
The Ivory took me by the chin, lifting my face. “I believe you’ll do quite well here, Byron Kang. Quiet fury to fuel the fire.”
So here I am… In prison.
Except there was no trial, no sentencing. No jury of my peers.
I was suddenly just… gone. Tossed away, banished from society for being stupid enough to fall in love with someone I couldn’t have.
Maybe The Ivory was right. The pain of love certainly felt good in the moment. But every other scrape and bruise was horrendous.
I’m sure I’ll never feel real love again. Ican’t. It seems physically impossible now. I hadn’t even noticed that I’d fallen for Michelangelo until it was too late. Until he was ripped out of my grip in the most agonizing moment of my life.
That first night in Alabaster Penitentiary, as I curled up on my flimsy prison mattress, on a bunk bed I fortunately had to myself, I vowed two things…
1) I would keep as many secrets as I could hold, store them up inside as my protection against the agony of vulnerability in thetruth.
And 2) I would never,everfall in love again.
My second day in prison was better. I met Luthor.
It was my first time in the cafeteria, and I waswayout of my element. I didn’t know where to go, and I didn’t have it in me to acthard. So when I saw him sitting alone and looking kind of sad at a table by himself, I walked over and sat down, like it was nothing.
The kid with the shaved head and green dismay in his eyes peeked up at me, then muttered a weakened, “Sup.”
“Hey,” I grunted, picking at my disgusting-looking food.
