Page 89 of Missing Piece
Adam tensed, waiting for rough hands to grab him. But when Vincent’s grip settled on his shoulders, it was surprisingly gentle—a steadying pressure rather than restraint. The panic receded slightly, allowing Adam to think more clearly. He looked up at Vincent, searching for any sign, any hint that he wasn’t alone in this.
Vincent’s gaze met Adam’s, and for a brief moment, something flickered in their depths like a silent communication, a reassurance. Adam’s racing heart slowed slightly, his breathing evening out.
Richard, oblivious to their wordless exchange, chuckled darkly as he pulled off Adam’s shoe. “That’s better. Now, let’s see what we have here.” His fingers traced the edge of Adam’s prosthetic, probing and exploring with clinical fascination.
Adam bit back a whimper, forcing himself to remain still. He focused on Vincent’s steady touch, using it as an anchor against the rising tide of revulsion.
“Fascinatin’,” Richard murmured, his voice dripping with false sympathy. “Such a shame, really. How did this happen?”
Adam remained silent, jaw clenched tight. He wouldn’t give Richard the satisfaction of a response.
A cruel smile playing at Richard’s lips. “No matter. I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time to discuss it later.” He stood,brushing imaginary dust from his knees. “For now, I think it’s time we moved on to the main event, don’t you?”
Richard looked to Vincent, his expression shifting to one of mock concern. “Vincent, he’s been so quiet. How do you normally make this pet sing for you?” His question was met with silence, Vincent’s jaw working as if fighting against invisible bonds. “Do you remember how the old man liked to begin his visits with us? Perhaps we should start there?”
Vincent’s touch tightened on Adam’s shoulders, just for a moment, before relaxing as he seemed to react against his will to the proposal. “I-I don’t do that…I mean, I’ve never—”
Richard feigned a gasp and chuckled. “No wonder this one ain’t scared enough. Roughin’ them up has its place, but they don’t truly understand someone until you take every part of them, and God does it feel good.” Richard stood, maintaining eye contact with Adam as he licked his lips. “You know, I was gonna just make you kill him, but I think it’s time to break him properly.”
Adam’s stomach dropped.He wasn’t just talking about torture.
Vincent’s hands trembled against Adam’s shoulders. “I don’t think I want that,” Vincent said quietly, his own voice uncertain but pushing through the compulsion.
Richard rolled his eyes and placed his hand on Vincent’s cheek again. “Of course you do. It’s how you’re gonna make up for all that time leavin’ me alone.”
Doubts wormed their way into Adam’s mind, twisting and turning, whispering treacherous possibilities. He wanted to scream, to demand that Vincent fight back, to tell Richard to go to hell. But the words died in his throat, choked by the dread that coiled tight in his gut.
Finally, after an eternity that probably lasted thirty seconds, Vincent spoke. His voice was flat, devoid of any emotion, as if the words were being forced from his lips. “You’re right,” Vincent said. “I am going to make it up to you.”
Please be playing along.“Vincent…” Adam began as Richard winked at him.
“Finally! Some good God damn compliance. Doesn’t it feel better now that you’re not resistin’ so hard? Come on, I have a spot that is much more comfortable.” With a hand wave, Richard turned around and began walking toward a corridor away from the main room, whistling a carefree tune that was far too loud and cheerful for the building that felt like it was closing in on them.
Vincent yanked Adam upright, the motion making him stumble as dizziness washed over him. Adam dug in his heels, refusing to move. “Vincent, snap out of it! This isn’t you! Remember what you said? Don’t do this, please!”
Vincent shoved him forward, but as he did, his fingers worked at the knots, loosening them further. Adam tried to twist around, his fingers finally able to brush against the handle of the knife. Hope, fragile and desperate, flickered within him.
“Forward,” Vincent’s voice was emotionless.
Before Adam could react, Vincent’s arm wrapped around his chest, lifting him slightly off the ground. His freed hands, now clutching the knife handle, were pinned between their bodies, his knuckles pressing into Vincent’s abdomen. The blade was hidden but ready.
“Don’t raise suspicion. Keep fighting. Be ready,” Vincent murmured against his ear, the words so quietAdam almost missed them.
Relief washed over Adam so potent it almost made him dizzy. Or maybe that was the blood loss and cold.He leaned into the hold, feigning a struggle, carefully angling the knife away from Vincent’s body. Fear and a furious, desperate hope clashed within him as Vincent half-dragged, half-carried him down the corridor.
Richard waited for them by a room with its door slightly ajar. The flickering glow of cheap electric lanterns spilled out, casting long, dancing shadows. Adam glimpsed a small table laden with gleaming instruments, an old desk shoved against the wall, and in the center of the room, a wooden chair that looked as though it was waiting for its first victim.
How long can I keep up this act?
“I love you,” Vincent whispered, his breath cool against Adam’s ear.
Joy, so powerful it bordered on pain, shot through Adam. It was quickly followed by a surge of anger—that the words, the words he didn’t know he craved to hear, would come at a time like this, when he was about to be strung up like a Christmas goose. But before he could even form a response, before he could savor the moment, Vincent’s expression hardened back into a mask. Without warning, Vincent slammed him down onto the desk.
Chapter Thirty-Four - Adam
Adam hit the desk, the impact knocking the wind from his lungs as he forced his hand to remain hidden behind his back. Pain reverberated through him as he struggled to breathe. Despite the rough treatment, the flicker of relief remained. Vincent was still with him, still fighting.
He arched his back slightly, angling his body so the knife blade lay flat against the desk’s edge rather than cutting into his flesh. Vincent loomed over him, hands pressing down on his shoulders. Adam searched his eyes. Beneath the darkness, fear and concern swam in their depths.
