hoping his former landlord wouldn’t rape him while he believed Day to be unconscious. He tried to stay limp until Carl moved away, leaving a trail of saliva across Day’s chin. “You don’t have to pretend with me, Dayton. I can feel the way your breath increased when I kissed you. The drugs should have worn off by now. Open your eyes.”
How long had it been since he’d last heard that nasally, gasping voice? Three years? Four? It still made his stomach clench and his whole body heavy with dread. Carl had always sounded half out of breath, even when he’d just been sitting there, petting Day’s head while he blew him and telling Day he was worth every penny in that whiny, disgusting voice. Day didn’t want to open his eyes. If he looked at Carl, then this was all real, it was all happening, and once again, Day’s chance at a fairy tale was snatched away from him.
“Don’t push me, Dayton. I’ve gone to a lot of trouble for you. The least you could do is show me the courtesy of looking me in the eye.”
Day could do this. Day was good at this. He’d been faking this for as long as he could remember. He just needed to buy time. He’d never gotten to finish his text. He didn’t even know if he was spelling it right, but he’d been too afraid to use his voice to text. Would Jackson figure it out? Would he find him in time? Day fought back the bile rising in his throat. He’d rather die than submit to whatever Carl had in mind for him. He just couldn’t do it. Not again. But he could pretend… That was his goal. Pretend and fake interest to buy time until Jackson found him. Fuck, Jackson. Please, find me. Please.
Day forced his eyes open and gave a weak smile. “Sorry,” he croaked before clearing his throat and trying again. “Whatever you gave me is making me groggy.”
Carl hadn’t aged well, though it was clear he’d tried to hide it. Despite being well into his late fifties, the man had dyed his thinning hair shoe polish black, his lips looked puffy like he’d had lip injections, and his unlined face seemed shiny, like it was pulled too tight. Like a mask. A grotesque mask.
“You look…different. Good,” Day said, trying to ignore the stench coming off the man and his soiled, unwashed clothing.
Day forced himself into a sitting position, his head swimming and stomach sloshing when he saw the usually dim motel room was eerily bright from stage lighting, cameras surrounding the old mattress he’d once shared with Sarah. It was like being sucked back into a nightmare after he’d fought so hard to claw his way out. The walls, which were once a dingy white, were warped and dotted with brown water stains, the dark carpet had a fine layer of fur that Day could only imagine was actual mold. The mold that had killed Sarah. Rage flared in his gut. Why the fuck would Carl bring him back there?
Carl ignored Day’s compliment, sliding off the bed to busy himself making adjustments to the cameras surrounding the room. It was obvious Carl planned on getting what Day had dangled before his audience, with or without Day’s consent.
“So, what is all this?” he asked, fighting to keep his voice casual, even pleasant.
Carl’s gaze flicked to him from the camera directly in front of the bed. Behind him sat a laptop. Day recognized the dashboard for his OnlyFans account. Jesus. Was he planning on broadcasting this to Day’s fans?
“Are we recording?”
“No, not yet. I thought you’d want to fix yourself up a bit before we go live. I know how important your appearance is to you. You’ve always been so fastidious with your clothes and hair and makeup, even when this was your home. But now that you’re a big star, it’s much worse. I watch you get ready for your videos almost every night.” Day’s stomach dropped, but he fought to keep his face neutral. “Or I did,” Carl said, his voice quivering, “before you moved in with that…man.” He scoffed, shaking his head. “If I’d have known you were going to throw yourself at the first cock you saw like some nympho whore, I would’ve just skipped killing that attorney and taken you that night. Luckily, the cops are stupid and still have no idea it was me.”
Carl didn’t even seem to be talking to