RAIN

Chapter three

The wind howled outside the cot, somewhere a loose piece of the galvanized tin roof was banging incessantly as it battled with the gusts. Standing in the room alone, his arms wrapped around his torso as he shivered, he looked around at the artifacts and keepsakes around him. He was trying to convince himself that these were just ordinary people.

The sound of the stranger's footsteps on the creaky floorboards pulled him out of his thoughts. He smiled, feeling some sense of ease when he saw the neatly folded pile of clothes on top of a towel in the stranger's hand. He set it down on the small coffee table and when he looked up at Jet, his stare was vacuous. A shiver trailed down Jet's spine, stealing the words from his mouth.

"You can change in the bathroom, it's right there," he said as he pointed out the location of the bathroom to Jet. "I'll make you something hot to drink, you are shivering."

"Thank you," Jet replied, trying to keep his voice from shaking like his body was.

He scooped up the towel and the clothes and walked to the door that the young man had pointed out to him. Turning the old discolored doorknob, he walked into a small rectangular-shaped room that instantly struck him with a sense of being suffocated. A standing shower was on one end and the toilet was just beside it with the lid down. He had almost missed the face sink until he closed the door and found it just behind. This felt more like a broom closet than a bathroom, the air felt thin here.

He set down the clothes and towel on top of the toilet and opened the tap over the sink. A small trickle of water came out but he was honestly surprised that there was running water to begin with. He washed his face and then carefully peeled away his jacket and shirt. He grimaced loudly at the visual of the crimson bruises on his fair skin. On his right side, there was a blotch that was growing a deep purple shade. He dared himself to touch it and then instantly regretted it, clenching his teeth not to scream out. He could imagine the shards of broken bone sticking into his flesh on the inside.

He pulled his eyes away from his injuries and then splashed some water onto his chest and behind his neck. He removed the rest of his clothes, liberating his feet from those shoes that felt like cinder blocks. The exhaustion was starting to set in. He dried himself with the towel that smelt of laundry detergent and then got dressed in the clothes that the stranger gave him, hiding his gun on the inside of the shirt that he left untucked.

He looked at the clothes, it wasn't as bad as he had expected they would be, a light blue shirt and a pair of comfortable blue jeans. He shrugged and pursed his lips and then picked up his wet clothes from the floor. He rung the water from them in the shower that smelt of shampoo, the tiles were a brilliant white. He tidied his hair as best as he could and looked at himself in the small mirror over the face sink. He sighed at the image staring back at him. He was a handsome man, lusted over by many women with a few men added to the mix. He was tall and lean, had a handsome face, and had an adorable smile. He took great pride in his appearance and regularly visited the gym to stay fit. He was full of life and zest but the man looking back at him looked surprisingly tired and lost.

He sucked in a deep breath and exhaled, he hardly thought that this was not the time to be conceited. He left the bathroom, carrying his wet clothes with him. The stranger was in the kitchen near the stove, his back turned to Jet. He was still dressed in his wet clothes making Jet feel uncomfortable for him. His long black hair was coming loose from the bun that sat at the base of his skull.

"You can leave your clothes on the counter, I'll see to them," he said and then he turned around.

The image of Jet visibly staggered him but he quickly refocused himself before Jet could see the emotions surfacing in his eyes.