Chapter 12: You Had No Honor in Life...

Continued from chapter 12:

The night air is cool, raising goosebumps on my skin as I lead all three boys into the dark alley behind the club. A lone camera hangs from a wall, but it’s disabled, as I hacked it from home, before coming here—because you know, my job. I have sold these three a line about having some pot and pills for sale, and they have swallowed my bait hook, line, and sinker.

I turn and smile.

“Okay,” Bradley says, smiling.

It’s the smile of someone who has always had it easy—the smile of a handsome boy who has always gotten his way.

“Where is it, buddy?” he asks.

Conor scrunches up his face like he's trying to think, or poop, or maybe both.

“Well, where’s the shit, man? It’s cold out here.”

Chapter 13:

It is Gavin who realizes it first. Color me surprised. This kid has grit...or should I say, had.

I smile and open the void to Never. The night erupts in a crackling of ice as the puddles in the alley freeze over, the void reaching out with long black Never arms, wrapping Bradley, Conor, and Gavin tenderly in a lover’s embrace, before dragging them, shrieking with terror, down into its icy depths.

The shrieks are cut off with a snap as the void closes.

“Bye bye, Bradley, Conor, and Gavin. Shouldn’t have fucked her. She had her ring on. That used to mean something to men of honor, but I suppose you had no honor in life, may you continue to do so in Never.”

I grin and breathe out a cloud of frosty smoke before turning on my heels and heading back inside to my wife.

Amy stands frozen in the middle of the crowded bar, the spilled drinks forgotten at her feet as a bone-deep chill settles into her bones. The air thickens, pressing in on her from all sides as an oppressive sense of dread washes over her. Something is very, very wrong. She can feel it in the pit of her stomach, a gnawing certainty that her world is about to shatter irrevocably.

Panic claws at her throat as she pushes through the throng of bodies, ignoring the indignant shouts and grabbing hands of those she jostles. She needs to find me, needs to understand what twisted game I’m playing.

When she looks for me and the three boys, her panic rising, she suddenly sees me, smiling for the first time since her confession.

“Oh, there you are, Amy. I’ve been looking all over for you.”

Amy stares at me, her eyes wide with shock and barely contained terror. My casual demeanor clashes jarringly with the ominous energy clinging to me, the faint scent of frost and something darker, more primal. She takes an involuntary step back, her gaze darting past me to the yawning mouth of the alley, a scream building in her throat.

“W-what... what did you do, Ero? Where are they?”

Her voice emerges as a strangled whisper, thick with dread and guilty knowledge. The pieces click into place with sickening clarity—the abandoned drinks, the missing men, the eerie silence from the alley. Her mind reels, struggling to reconcile the horrific possibilities with the man she thought she knew.

“Oh, they just realized they had a prior engagement, that is all. When you get your rocks off from plowing with another man’s heifer, especially one who is clearly wearing her ring, you aren't usually the most reliable of people. I’m afraid Bradley, Conor, and Gavin won’t be joining us, as other adventures undoubtedly await them.”

“Now, are you ready to go home, or did you want to dance and order another roofie colada? I hear that’s the drink of choice here.”

Amy recoils as if struck, my callous words hitting her like physical blows. The casual cruelty in my tone, the dark implications swirling beneath the surface, send a fresh wave of icy dread cascading through her veins. She shakes her head frantically, backing away until she bumps against the bar, trapped between the hard wood at her back and the looming specter of my wrath.

“N-no, please Ero, I... I don’t want any more drinks. I just want to go home, to talk about... about everything.”

Her voice cracks on the last word, thick with unshed tears and barely suppressed hysteria.

The weight of her betrayal and the horrifying realization of what I might have done presses down on her like a physical burden. Her voice breaks on a sob, the weight of her guilt and the unsettling events of the evening crushing down on her. She takes a tentative step toward me, yearning for the comfort of my presence even as she fears my rejection.

“I’m so sorry for everything. I never meant to hurt you like this. Please, give me a chance to make things right between us. I’ll do anything, be anything you need me to be. Just don’t leave me, not after...”

I take her home. I sit on the couch and try to watch another show on streaming, but I miss everything that happens because my mind is somewhere else.

Amy sits down next to me but leaves space in between us, knowing that I am not ready for intimacy, at least not any from her. She opens a couple of beers and hands me one. I drink.

Amy perches gingerly on the edge of the couch, maintaining a careful distance from me as she hands me the beer with trembling fingers. She cradles her own bottle in her lap, the cool condensation a stark contrast to the feverish heat of her skin. The muffled sounds of the TV fade into background noise as she steals furtive glances at my profile, searching for any flicker of the warmth and affection that once illuminated my features.

She takes a long pull from her beer, the bitter liquid doing little to wash away the acrid taste of fear and regret coating her tongue. When she speaks, her voice is low and hesitant, weighted with the unspoken questions and accusations hanging heavy in the air between us.

After a long moment, she takes a deep, shuddering breath, steeling herself to break the oppressive quiet.

“Ero, I... I know I have no right to ask this of you, but... what happens now?”

Her voice is small and uncertain, tinged with a **** hopefulness.

“I understand if you can’t forgive me, if you want to leave... but I need to know. I need to prepare myself for the consequences of my actions.”

“Why? Are you unsatisfied with our current arrangement?”

Amy’s fingers tighten around the cold beer bottle, her knuckles blanching under the strain. She shakes her head vehemently, tears welling up as she registers the accusation in my tone. The mere suggestion that she’s unsatisfied with our marriage, especially given the circumstances, cuts her deeply.

“No! God, no, Ero. That’s not what I meant at all. I could never be unsatisfied with you, with us.”

Her voice cracks, raw with emotion. She sets her beer aside with a trembling hand, leaning forward slightly, imploring me to understand.

“I was the one who messed up, who threw away the precious gift of your love and trust. I don’t deserve to be satisfied, not after what I’ve done.”

Her eyes glisten with tears, a mix of desperation and regret etched on her face.

“I was weak, stupid. I made a terrible mistake. But you... you’re everything to me, Ero. My world revolves around making you happy, being the best wife I can be.”

A single tear rolls down her cheek, her voice thick with emotion.

“I know I have to earn your trust again, to prove my devotion. And I will, no matter what it takes. Just... just tell me how, Ero.”

To be continued in chapter 14...