Then again, what was the alternative? Waste his life away in a cage? He’d already gone through panic mode on what he assumed by the meal frequency had been day three.
“I told you he’s deaf. Write down your questions, unless you speak sign language,” the other new voice said.
Colin stilled, stunned to the core. He’d been so fucking stupid. Why hadn’t he assumed as much after Taron ignored him for such a long time? Isolation was fucking with his mind already.
This new information meant that while Taron couldn’t hear him, the policemen would. He could alert them to his presence with risk reduced.
And yet he couldn’t bring himself to scream, aware that Taron was the kind of guy who’d rather die than be imprisoned. By opening his mouth, Colin would be signing his death sentence, and Taron wasn’t a bad guy at the core. He fed Colin, and his cats loved him. There must have been a reason behind the murder that Colin simply didn’t know.
There was something more at play as well, which he didn’t like admitting to. Regardless of the miserable conditions, for the first time in his life Colin was free of the endless expectations. He didn’t have to cram for exams on topics that didn’t interest him, he didn’t have to answer e-mails or deal with his parents. Was it fucked up to consider that a blessing? Probably. Maybe being stuck in a psycho murderer’s basement was already getting to him?
While his mind worked tirelessly, toying with the two options—risking everything by calling out for help and remaining at Taron’s mercy—the conversation above became a blur. Two voices. Two policemen versus Taron. They had the advantage in numbers, but he was on his own turf—a big, strong guy who could likely snap someone’s neck with ease.
It was an impossible decision.
When the lock echoed through the house like lightning, Colin’s heart filled with darkness, and his stomach with nausea.
He’d blown it.
He’d blown his one chance at rescue because he couldn’t make up his mind.
He was like those people who got abducted as kids and never told anyone a thing, despite being allowed outside. Only he was an adult, and his captivity had lasted a week at most.
How was he such a pathetic human being?
The orgy of self-pity quieted, retreating into the back of his mind when the trapdoor lifted, revealing Taron’s shadow on the stairs.
His steps were slow and deliberate, as if meant to taunt Colin about his uselessness.
Chapter Five
Taron wasn’t sure what to think. He’d been sweating bullets around the cops, coming up with a million explanations for Colin’s presence when none made sense, yet the boy had stayed silent as asked.
By the time Taron entered his bunker, and Colin’s pretty face came into view, the tension between them was so ripe it could’ve caused the room to explode any second. The rigidness in Colin’s muscles was visible from afar. He sat cross-legged with his cheekbones pressed to the bars, and his knuckles resting on the bare floor. For a brief moment, Colin wouldn’t look his way, as if he were catatonic, but in the end the two chestnut eyes turned his way.
Taron stood in front of the cage and pondered the wide eyes. How should he reward his pet?
Colin’s chest went up and down, laboriously pumping air, but just as Taron was about to conclude that fear had gotten the boy’s tongue, the graceful hands lifted and moved to form signs.
Words.
Taron was too stunned to believe it at first, but the gestures were too precise, too deliberate to be accidental.
Collin knew sign language.
Colin told him without opening his mouth, his wide eyes desperate and his nostrils wide from rapid breathing.
Taron licked his lips, light-headed from this discovery and unable to pick himself up just yet. How well did Colin know sign language?
Taron signed, keeping up the charade, just to test him, but his heart was pounding. He’d so far considered Colin handsome, worth fucking, but more like a classy piece of furniture or an artwork than a person.
Colin’s face twitched, expressing a whole range of emotions—from joy to grief—within just a second. he signed, rapidly shaking his head before grabbing the bars and clutching them, as if he believed he could somehow bend steel.
Taron nodded. Very proficient.
All of a sudden, Taron wanted to know more. Did Colin have a deaf sibling? Parent? But there were more pressing questions at hand. He frowned.
Colin gave a high-pitched groan that might have as well come from a fox captured with snares. He signed, staring into Taron’s eyes in a desperate plea for help.