Still raining, but he didn’t mind; as soon as he began the descent down the ladder, he was damp with millions of tiny droplets, and by the time he reached the ground his clothes were hanging off him, dripping with rain water. The feeling of sogginess that so weighed him down felt familiar, and oddly comforting.

Pigeons bathed in filthy pools along the gutter, cooing, enjoying the downpour, flapping their heavy wings. They sounded almost like sails billowing, blowing in the swirling wet wind that stung Peko’s face. He wasn’t sure where he was going anymore. He didn’t think Nu would have the guts to start servicing again, but he couldn’t remember any other hangout spots of his fallen angel. He was stuck wandering the city streets in the warm summer rain.

It was a cleansing, this water falling from the sky, washing the grime and litter into the gutter, leaving the city wet and vulnerable as if newly arisen from the depths of the earth. A storm is the rebirth of a city, so it seemed, the crashing of thunder and lightening overhead the celebratory music. Still, Peko wandered this desolate, concrete world, apparently the only spectator in the miracle of new life.

“Peko?” His name had passed across the threshold of a stranger’s lips, standing against a wall, wearing a deep blue rain jacket. A few droplets dripped from the peak of the hood, falling in front of his face, before he reached up to pull down the covering. It was not Nu’s face, but someone Peko had thought he was done with. The man’s red-orange hair seemed out of place in the drab world, even if it stuck to his scalp.

“Roe,” Peko said, genuinely surprised to see him. “Have you seen Nu?”

Roe shook his wet hair and yelled above the rain, “No, follow me!” Roe slipped his hood back up and led Peko through wet streets. They entered a coffee shop at the corner and Roe quickly took his rain jacket off. “I was going to surprise my client by meeting him early, but this is the real meeting place anyway.” Peko scowled in distaste and went to buy a coffee.

“You want something?” he asked Roe, but Roe shook his head.

Peko went to pay, and Roe came up behind him with a pleading look. “Actually, can I have a coffee too?”

“Course,” Peko said, only a little irritated. Peko put in a little cream and went to sit at a table. Roe clutched at his mug of steaming, black liquid and followed Peko to a small booth in the corner.

Once settled, Peko questioned Roe.

“When’s this client supposed to show up?”

“Not until midnight, but I had to get out of the… house.”

Peko smiled kindly at him and took a sip of coffee. “Yeah, me too.” He remembered, at once, how he was raped on his second trip to jail, and shivered. Roe gazed closer at him in concern and saw his clothes.

“My god, Peko, you’re soaking wet!” Peko grimaced and again sipped the edge of the porcelain. “You didn’t even take an umbrella?” Peko shook his head. “Your wings–”

“Fuck my wings, Roe. Now listen. We can get you a regular job, alright? No more drug stuff, no more fucking strangers, no more street life, alright? You must be tired of–”

“Peko,” Roe said. He sounded condescending. “You don’t understand me, who I was, who I’ve become. So stop trying to tell me who I’m gonna be. Hell, you barely even know me.”

This struck Peko particularly hard, and he glared at Roe.

“I may not have known you very long, Roe, but I do know you. Better than any of these clients ever–”

“You were a client too, Peko! Nothing more. It’s part of the home, comes with the territory, all that. Peko, you’re not special; I tell them all that I love them. Now Nu, he was something different. But you were just the same, Peko, just like the rest of them.” Peko’s face, a mixture of fear and pain and anger and betrayal, only hurt Roe a little.

The electronic beeping came from the door, signaling that someone had entered the café. Roe glanced up, took his coat, and left with the man who’d just entered. Peko finished his coffee with a grimace, and left the café in pursuit of somewhere else.

OoOoO

Roe soon learned from the man that he himself was not the client, but that his name was Jakal and he could lead Roe to the client, who’s name was Mr. Black.

“As long as I still get paid,” Roe said half-jokingly with a tiny grin. Jakal did not even crack a smile. They walked in silence from then on, Roe still maintaining the feeling that he knew this man Jakal from somewhere, though he had always forgotten faces rather easily. Still, the feeling was confirmed and replaced with fear as they approached a gray, looming warehouse. The place that had been his shelter for a few weeks until he’d found Nu, the huge building with the cat in it, running free, the warehouse where Mel now worked. Oh, Roe knew Karl already, not by face, but by the shipments he dealt with, and the many young men that had entered the warehouse when Roe was awake in the entryway.

Jakal held the door for him, and Roe stepped into his old home. He remembered the smell of a rare drug mingling with packing material, the moisture in the stale room causing dust particles to cling to his skin and the air to maintain a chill even in the summer. He hadn’t missed the place at all. The cat darted past their feet as Jakal led him to the back room. Roe stepped in, the briefly shed nervousness catching up to him, and Jakal shut the door behind him.

“Mr. Black?” Roe asked, attempted to calm down. The old man rose from his chair with a smile on his face, and Roe was alarmed to see that he was blind.

“Please, call me Karl. You must be Rowan.” Roe stared at him, suspicion rising in his chest.

“That’s not… I don’t…”

“You go by Roe? Jakal told me that Roe was the name you were listed under. I have some things to talk to you about.”

“But–”

“Never fear, Roe, you will get paid. I requested your services, and you will provide them. However, I have an offer for you, and you must accept.”

Roe frowned. “What d’you mean, I must accept? And what offer is this anyway?” Roe was used to dealing with strange clients, but none as odd as this man.

Karl smiled again. “Have a seat, Roe, will you? And let’s talk about this.” Roe cautiously sat in the stiff wooden chair across from the blind old man, still exuding power. “So, you lived in the warehouse for six weeks and two days, am I correct?”

“Yes…” How could this man know so much?

“Good. You see, I’m not the type of man to let just any bum off the street stay in my warehouse. No, I let you stay because, well, I had my reasons. Do you remember your parents, Roe?”

“W-what?” Roe hadn’t thought of them since his mother left and he’d run off. Still, the fear of his father had never faded from his memory, and he didn’t talk about the subject anymore.

“Your father was a good man, once. He is dead now, if that’s any consolation. You see, we were business partners, your father and I.”

“Oh.” That was all that Roe could think to say while memories came back to him forcefully. This talk of his past was catching him off guard, and the wall that he put up when he saw clients was slowly crumbling.

“When you turned thirteen, your father signed a contract. He’d always had money troubles, and this time it was worse. He was so far in debt with me that it was starting to affect his family life. If you can remember, it was then that he started to get abusive, both towards you and you mother. Roe, don’t blame me, he’d always had it in him, and the alcohol soon brought it out. Being a Scotsman, he wasted a lot of money trying to get drunk.” Karl gave a light chuckle at the memory. “Either way, back to this contract. He told me that he’d do anything to get out of debt so that he could stay out of jail. See, we came up with a contract.”

“What the hell’s this got to do with me?” Roe interrupted, and Karl smiled almost innocently, almost genuinely.

“For a second there, you sounded just like your father.”

“I hated that slimy bastard,” Roe growled through clenched teeth, standing from the chair. “You have no right to compare me to him!”

Karl sighed. “There is where you are mistaken, Roe. I have every right to compare you to him, and here’s why. In exchange for your father going debt-free, he signed your body and soul over to me for when you turned eighteen. I have been trying to locate you since just after you left the warehouse.”

Roe stared. He couldn’t take this, couldn’t believe it. Even after the cruelties he had endured from his father, he would not believe that his father had sold him to this man.

“This… this has to be illegal, it… I bet there isn’t even a contract!”

“Roe, I’m not exactly one to lie, but if you think I’m not being truthful, I have the document.” Karl opened a drawer, his finger groping around inside, and pulled out a laminated, typed piece of paper. Roe quickly snatched it from the man’s hands and skimmed the passages. When he realized that it was true, that he belonged to Karl, fear made him think to destroy the agreement, but then he thought better of it. Karl seemed like a dangerous man, despite his handicap, and Roe didn’t want to risk trouble with him. The next emotion that hit was like being caught under a towering, salty wave. Not fear, but dread, and self-pity. In fact, he was filled with a self pity so profound that he couldn’t avoid a few wracking sobs and a slow stream of salty tears.

(It’s here that I changed notebooks, and therefore attitudes, so sorry if the writing style shifts.)

“Tissue?” Karl offered, holding the thin white paper out to the sobbing Roe. Roe laughed bitterly through his tears.

“Y-you off-fering me a t-tissue?” he half-sobbed half-laughed, but he took it anyway and blew his nose. Quietly, not a loud snort but a soft snuffle, he blew his sorrow into the tissue and threw it towards the trash can. His aim was off, however, and instead of landing inside the rubbish bin, it landed neatly beside it.

“This is r-ridiculous.” Roe muttered, standing and flinging the contract back onto the desk.

“Roe!” Karl growled, rising from his chair. “Rowan, there are ways I have of making you obey this contract!”

“What! What can you take from me now but my life?” Roe moaned, turning to leave.

“Nu,” Karl said softly, but Roe heard it perfectly. That one syllable echoed through his head, and the gravity of what the old man was saying hit him. He paused and turned back around. Not that name, anything but that name. He was finally and completely trapped, because Karl knew his weakness. Nu was the only person Roe had ever truly loved, and now Karl was threatening to take him away.

“How…” Roe started, but trailed off.

“I know where Nu works when he needs money, and I know where he stays when he’s not at his friend’s place. I will find him, Roe, and I’m sure you can imagine all the lovely things I’ll do to him during our time together.” Roe let out a sob in pain at the thought. Karl had finally broken him. “Now, I would appreciate it if you sat down again.” Roe slumped into the chair, wide-eyed in shock, and stared past Karl. “You must be wondering about the terms of your contract. So, here’s the deal. You work for me, do off jobs, and whatever I ask.” He gave Roe a wicked grin. “In return, I’ll leave your precious Nu alone. Oh, and you still get paid at a little less than minimum wage. So, we have a deal right?”

“Guess I don’t have a choice,” Roe growled, snapping out of his self-pity.

“There is always a choice, Rowan.” Karl looked towards the door. “Jakal, you can come in now.” The giant man stepped through the door, a hungry look on his bulky face. “Please take young Roe to his room, now.”

“I am not your prisoner!” Roe screamed, but as Jakal grabbed his shoulders it turned into a whine. “I’ve done nothing wrong!” Karl gave him an amused look of pity, and Jakal steered Roe out of the room. “Bloody wanker! Slipper bastard! How dare you threaten me! Don’t touch me, Jakal, I’m goin! I’m going…” He shrugged free of Jakal’s harsh grip and let the large man lead him out of the room.