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Devin’s father told people we were on an extended honeymoon due to how in love we were. “Newlyweds,” I’d hear him laugh on the phone, “too bad the honeymoon doesn’t last forever, huh?”
I didn’t see Devin for some time…I didn’t see anyone, save for the nurse that applied Vaseline to the sores the handcuffs gave me. Occasionally she would check my wound and say it was healing nicely – and that I should be up and about in no time. Whenever I asked about Devin or his father, she would get a nervous look on her face and scuttle out of the room abruptly.
I didn’t mind though – the last thing I wanted to do was drag someone else into the mess I made.
There were no windows in the basement – only a fluorescent light above me. The minutes felt like hours, the hours felt like days…the days felt like years. The only human interaction I had was with the nurse who would only say three words to me, bring my meals, and change my bedpan.
Some part of me feared that Devin and his father had gone somewhere far away and had hired this woman to do this the rest of our days until I breathed no more. But in the end, I knew that wasn’t his game. You see, Devin’s father was an old school gangster – an eye for an eye, that sort of deal. Devin was a sociopathic freak of nature who wanted to succeed not only to succeed, but because it would mean that others would fail.
No – I wasn’t left here to die…I was left to think on my crimes. To reflect on the destruction I’d caused. To get to the brink of insanity just so he could pull me back just in time…before wielding some other kind of mental torture. It was a battle of the wills…and I was losing.