Chapter Two
Branson
My heart is thumping in my chest when I hear the upstairs door open. I’ve been hearing Bud moving around all day, but I don’t think that was him. I’ve gotten pretty used to his footsteps the past few years. And Jane’s steps, well, I’ve known those almost my whole life. This step is softer and holds a different cadence.
Mia.
Two years it’s been since I’ve seen her. I wonder if she’s thought of me as much as I’ve thought of her. It’s been hell, honestly. I hope Jane’s treated her better than Bud has me. Fury courses through my veins at the thought of Jane hurting her, but I don’t think it’s likely.
I’ve had a lot of time to think about the whole thing and I’m sure it’s because of me she took her in the first place. She didn’t like us getting close.
I’ll never forget the day Jane came to take her away.
I was cleaning, and Mia was sitting around watching me. Pretty usual if Jane didn’t have anything for her to do. I can’t for the life of me remember what we were talking about, but I do remember laughing a lot.
When Jane's steps came down the hall, we both stopped and Mia began ordering me around. Apparently, we didn’t do well enough at hiding our friendship. Jane came in, took off my chains, and put me in my room. Then she told ‘Teddy’ to say goodbye, we wouldn’t see each other for a while.
If I had known then it would be years, maybe I would have fought back instead of sitting in my room like an asshole and waiting.
And fuck, did I wait.
I put down my book and listen intently, my body vibrating with excitement. I don’t know what changed, or why they’re back, but I don’t care.
Amelia.
After two years, I’ve decided that change, any change, is better than living like this. Other than getting me to help out with a few random chores, I’ve basically been in my room this whole time.
After a few months, I lost it and tried to kill myself again thinking Teddy was dead, never coming back. Bud found me bleeding out downstairs and, unfortunately, saved me. By the time I came to, he’d had enough time to tell me that Jane would hurt Mia if I tried that again. I sat in my room chained up and alone while I healed for the coming weeks. I didn’t try to kill myself again.
After that, though, Bud actually brought me a few more books and a small TV. I spent days and weeks pouring over that little TV, despite its static and the fact it only gets a few channels. For the first time, I got to learn a bit more of the world outside these walls.
The one benefit of living outside of the cage for so long is my body is finally filling out, turning from a young boy into a man. I’m still skinny, a result of so little food, but I’m strong. I’ve made sure of that.
My room is small, but big enough that I can exercise. And I do, every day. I can do over a hundred pushups now without breaking a sweat.
I hear another set of footsteps from above and feel the corner of my mouth twitch. Those are Jane’s steps. Which can only mean one thing.
They’re home.
???
It’s another day before Bud comes to get me. I know better than to bother asking him anything. Instead, I follow him down the gallery I haven’t been through in a long time. I want to ask a million things about Amelia—and fuck, even Jane—but I stay silent. I don’t even object when he puts me back in the same damn tiny cage from when I was a kid, even though I can barely get my body in. He grunts at this and mutters something about a bigger one before lumbering off.
Despite my discomfort, the familiarity of all of it actually makes me feel at ease.
Even when Bud brings a young man down and places him on the table, I don’t care. Even when I realize he’s alive.
Nothing can faze me.
Mia’s home.
???
It’s a few hours later when he wakes on the table with a start and I sigh, waiting for the inevitable freak out. It’s been so long since I’ve been here, but I remember well enough how it all works. I can't see their faces from my cage, but I can always tell when they lift their head, look around. The shouting comes soon after usually. It's almost clockwork, even after all this time.
I frown when his head drops after a moment and he says nothing. I wait another minute before I can’t contain it.
"Why aren't you freaking out?" I ask him bluntly. His head swivels until he twists around enough to lock eyes with mine. Small cuts already cover his face and chest and my brow knits into a frown. Some of them look cauterized already, black instead of red. He looks at my cage for a moment before turning and laying back down on the metal slab.