Swapping Spit (Nouis) [under editing]

Chp 32-Colby

Colby runs up to me and tackles me in a hug.

"Ouch! Careful there, bud!" I say, in reference to my swollen back.

"I'm so sorry, Mr! I forgot about that." He cowards away like he's expecting me to hit him.

"Colby," I start. "Did you think I was gonna hit you?"

He looks at me through the small hands covering his face. A slight nod is all I need for my heart to sink into my chest.

"Colby, listen to me," I say. "I would never, ever hurt you. Do you understand? You can trust me."

He nods again and undoes his protective ball.

"Dad used to hit me when I did something wrong." His voice comes out as a hushed whisper, full of shame and guilt.

"He hit me, too," I say. "You and me, we're sort of alike."

"For the wrong reasons," adds Colby. Again, his intelligence is baffling.

We sit in a comfortable silence, each of us too in depth with our own thoughts to make conversation. I think of the terrible circumstances we find ourselves in, but I am thankful for the opportunity to meet this wonderful lad.

And instead of drowning myself in my own pity, I empathize with Colby. We've both been hurt by that son of a bitch.

---

Some time later, when the moon has replaced the sun and the still of night has calmed my nerves, the screech of metal causes Colby and I to jump. We share a frantic look and turn our heads towards the door. Sure enough, it's Richard. He's back.

I notice that this time, he didn't bring the whip. My shoulders sag with relief. But behind him in steps Fred.

Fuck. This cannot be good.

Colby whimpers and crawls over to me as the two looming men walk into the shack. I wrap an arm around Colby, drawing him closer for my sake as well. Their footsteps echo off the walls like a sinister melody.

Richard smiles at me before I can turn my head. A small chuckle escapes his mouth as he walks over to me. A bony finger is placed under my chin, and it tilts my head to look at him.

"Remember the last time you refused to look at me?" he whispers.

Ever so slightly, I look at him and nod. I hope he can't see the fear boiling out my eyes.

Fred hobbles over, slowed by his old age, with a pair of metal cutters. My heart flutters, thinking they're for me, but then he moves to cut the chains.

"What?" I question. Why would they cut the metal chains from my arms, the only thing keeping me from the door, from freedom?

The metal clanks to the ground, sending a puff of dust into our faces.

"We're going to do something a little bit...different."

Richard drops to his knees and shoos Colby aside, focusing on me.

I feel my heart beat in my head, throat, choking me. The muscles of my body clenching, protecting me and preparing me.

Richard ever so slowly creeps closer. Closer. My breathing picks up like I've just completed a marathon. I scurry backwards but my back slams against metal. Trapped.

Richard grabs me by the ankle and drags me forward. I rewind backward again but his grip is firm and strong. I look to the door and see Fred standing there, blocking it. His arms are folded across his chest, he means business.