Neon is the Colour of Vengeance (Flappers and False Gods)

THE COMEDOWN

Sweat soaked Hugo’s back as he ran through the darkness. He felt small, weak, childlike, and he hated it. Invisible hands grabbed him from all sides, roughly pulling him this way and that. He cried out as one of the hands grasped his hair and forced his head upwards. They were trying to force him to look at their faces, but he refused to let them, lest they succeed in dragging him down. He wrenched his head free, ignoring the pain in his scalp as he stumbled forwards, but the hands found him anew and dragged him back into their clutches. He shouted and called for help, begged them to release him but his cries went unanswered. It was too much, there were too many of them.

And then he was there. Samuel. As clear as if he was standing in the bright summer sun. A shining light in the darkness that was trying to swallow him whole. Hugo let out a shout of relief; he was saved. He ran towards him, towards the light, but Samuel was walking away. The gap between them growing and growing. Hugo ran as fast as his legs could carry him. He stretched out his hand, his fingertips brushing Samuel’s shoulder.

“Boss. Samuel. Dad! Wait!”

Samuel whipped around; Hugo’s revolver held tightly in his hand, a look of disgust on his face. He aimed between Hugo’s eyes and pulled the trigger.

BANG

Hugo sat bolt upright in bed with a wail. He was drenched head to foot and his sheets clung to him uncomfortably. He struggled to free himself from them but that only entangled him further. He couldn’t see as the sweat stung his eyes. Anxiety was turning into panic as the sheets felt like a straitjacket around him.

Gentle hands found him, but they might as well have been vicious. Hugo scrambled further back against the headboard as a voice said, “It’s me, it’s Evan. You’re okay, it’s just the Verve leaving your system.”

“Are they gone?”

“It was just a nightmare. You’re safe.”

A moment later, something cold was pressed to his forehead. Hugo flinched. Evan moved closer again and ran the damp cloth over Hugo’s face.

“You’re okay. I promise.”

“This is worse than—” With a sudden churning in his stomach, Hugo pushed Evan away and slumped over the side of the bed. He vomited onto the floor, the wet splashes as it hit the rug had him vomiting all over again.

“Take it easy, you don’t want to undo any of Chowdhury’s hard work.”

Hugo slumped back against the pillows, panting. “How long is this going to last?”

The night passed in a blur as Hugo was plagued with nightmares. When fear awoke him, it was to pain and sickness. The constant retching was agony to his broken ribs. Once again, he found himself in Evan’s care and the comfort that came with it.

“What are you dreaming about?” Evan asked gently, the next time a nightmare robbed Hugo of sleep.

“Death,” he whispered with a shiver that had nothing to do with his drenched body.

An arm found its way under his neck and pulled him in close. Hugo realised with surprise that Evan was cradling him, a damp cloth in one hand gently dabbing his forehead.

When morning came and the fevers had finally subsided, Hugo stretched, careful not to strain his broken ribs, and rolled over. Evan was sleeping peacefully on top of the bedspread, his shirt wrinkled and his face relaxed. The cloth he had used to dab Hugo’s forehead still clutched in his hand.

Hugo watched him in silence. If it wasn’t such a dangerous proposition, he could get used to Evan being there. Even in his sleep he was beautiful. Knowing that he couldn’t afford to grow any more attached, Hugo turned away and sat up.

He showered, careful not to wake Evan, and was surprised to find how good he felt. He was still a little stiff, and from time to time a sudden movement caused him to wince, but for the most part, he felt well on his way to being fighting fit.

Hugo was making breakfast in the long kitchen when Evan finally roused.

“You cook?” he said in mild surprise as he stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame. He looked tired and hungover.

“Oh yeah, I’m a killer in the kitchen,” Hugo said blandly.

“You aren’t funny.”

“You know, I hear that a lot.”

Evan moved further into the room and sat at the breakfast bar. The kitchen was the lightest place in Hugo’s apartment. A complete contrast to the rest of his home, the room was all white, with copper accents.

Hugo cooked with Evan watching on in silence. When he was finished, he cut them both a slice of the Spanish omelette he had made. He placed a plate in front of Evan, then leaned against the counter opposite as he tucked into his own portion.

“This is good,” Evan said taking a bite and then another.

Hugo nodded his thanks.

“How are you feeling?” Evan asked, but there was something about the way he said it.

“Fine, thanks to you.” Hugo finished his breakfast and put the plate in the sink.

“What happened with your boss? Did you find out anything about my uncle?”

“So eager to leave.”

“Hugo.” It was the first time Evan had said his name. Hugo liked the way it sounded.

“Did I lie to my father, the head of a crime family known for contract killings, and in the same breath ask about a close family member of the man I was supposed to kill but didn’t? No. I didn’t find out anything about your uncle, but I will. You have my word. We just have to be careful.”

“When? I can’t just stay imprisoned in this apartment forever.”

“I know that. The sooner you get out of town the better.” Hugo paused as they looked at each other. Again he felt that electricity, but was entirely unsure if Evan felt it, too. “We have to be smart about this. Take a subtler approach. I’ll have someone who owes me work on getting you out of the city, while I get your answers.”

“I want to help if I can.”

“Fine. Go get cleaned up, I have an errand to run, then we’ll talk.”

Evan opened his mouth then closed it again as he looked down at his body. He took in his creased shirt and brought a hand to his dishevelled hair, before nodding and moving towards the door.

“About last night…” he said turning back, his cheeks burning. “I was…I shouldn’t have…I’m sorry.” Evan looked at the ground clearly uncomfortable.

“It’s fine. But I wouldn’t do it again unless you intend to follow through. I might not be so gentlemanly next time.”

Hugo could have sworn that the corner of Evan’s mouth lifted as he left the kitchen.