Sports Fan Fiction ❯ Punishment ❯ The Ceiling ( Chapter 3 )

Two-hundred and forty three holes in two squares. Since awakening in the hospital room, Kasey had counted the same two squares four times. Doctors had been in to see him, detectives had been in to see him, and a rape kit had been done on him; during each of those times, his eyes had not left the ceiling.

And now, with the man he had once believed he would marry sitting near him, his eyes once again trained on those familiar dots.

"Kasey, honey, talk to me. Please talk to me," Tony's voice urged, the pain evident.

But Kasey found that, though he had words that wanted to be spoken, he could not speak them. He could say nothing. There was no way possible to make clear to him the things that had occurred. Even if he had wanted to, he knew that he could not.

He began his count again. With each numbered dot, he felt as though he quashed the memory of The Voice. He cleansed his mind and was desperate to cleanse his body, though they would not let him until all evidence had been collected. So there he laid, the stench of The Voice covering him. The stench of his own guilt mingling with it.

"Go away, Tony," he whispered, "Just go away."

The sound of a strangled sob slammed against him like a ton of bricks, yet he kept his composure. His eyes, once bright blue and shining, now stared dully at the ceiling as he waited for the retreat of footsteps to cease and the door to close. A single tear trailed down his cheek.

During the time of his captivity, he had wanted nothing more than to see Tony's face again. To hear his soothing voice. But, when the time had come, he realized himself to be too dirty, too unclean for someone as beautiful as his lover. He silently told himself that all they had was now destroyed. With the betrayal of his body, so had he betrayed the one he loved.

"Kasey?" someone questioned from the doorway and he tore his eyes momentarily from dot number eighty-seven in order to see who he was going to send away.

"Jamie," he sighed, "I am really not up for visitors."

Even as he spoke the words, it was evident that his best friend was going nowhere. Instead, Jamie entered the room and placed himself on the edge of the bed. Kasey did not fight the urge to ease away when their legs touched, but instead moved to the farthest edge of the bed.

"Kase, talk to me," Jamie coaxed softly, "I just saw Tony go running out of here in tears. What happened?"

"I told him to go away. I just want to be alone," he turned his eyes back to the ceiling and resumed his counting.

It was true. He was desperate to be alone. To be alone for the rest of his life. He wanted no one to see him, to see the unseemliness that surrounded him. In his heart he knew that no one could ever fully know what he had been through, and he could never stand to tell them. It was best for all concerned if they just left him to his own devices.

"Jesus, you made him leave? Why would you do that? He went through so much, Kase, and then to see that tape. I can't imagine what I'd do if I were in his position," Jamie's thoughts trailed off as Kasey finally turned his eyes on him.

"What tape?" his voice trembled suddenly, tears welling up, "What tape are you talking about, Jamie?"

The look in Jamie's eyes told him all that he needed to know. The Voice had made a tape. He'd made a tape and Tony had seen it. Tony had seen all of the horrible, vicious, painful, violations that had occurred. And he had seen that, at the end of each, Kasey had orgasmed. The familiar sensation of bile rising in his throat hit him again.

"I'm going to be sick," he gasped and rolled to his side.