The Devils Bargain | stuilly | billyxstu | stuxbilly

Chapter 28 [ END ]

Six months later, the sun peeked through the sheer curtains of a lived-in motel room, and the soft autumn wind blew through the partly opened window. Billy rubbed his eyes, feeling the fatigue and the relentless pounding in his head wiggle through the fuzzy blur of growing consciousness. He sat up slowly, taking in a long breath of that soft air, surveying the empty room that he'd had to settle into for longer than he'd ever happily accepted.

For the past few months, Billy has been focused on not only recovering—his right ear now lost most of its shape but also gathering the resources needed to start a new life somewhere far from where anyone recognizes their face. He had secured a full-time job at a construction company, working long hours for less than the minimum wage. Not that he should complain, given that he had no real identity. He was fortunate to have a job at all. Among illegal immigrants and criminals, he felt a strange sense of belonging.

Stu's birthday had come and gone, celebrated in the comforts of a dark room with a single cupcake—not as depressing as it sounded, though, as it was more content for them both. Billy had finally tracked down the guy his mom knew for fake IDs. He had some old scribbled numbers, no names, and no prices, but a single lead. It took him two months to find the guy and even longer to get everything scrapped together, forking together the money from what he could salvage from his mom's house and his job until he had the $2,000 the guy wanted, cheaper than you'd think but still blown out of his price range.

Now, everything they needed to start over was neatly packaged on the table—something so small for such a long, miserable amount of work—his new life in a small brown package. Billy furrowed his eyebrows and sighed heavily. "Where is that fuckin idiot?" Billy mumbled as he held the slip, and right on cue, Stu burst into the room, his lanky frame practically bouncing with energy.

"Are they finally here?!" Stu asked, brimming with excitement that Billy couldn't hope to match. He grabbed the passport from the brown slip and tossed it across the small table. Stu barely caught it, eagerly opening it to see his new photo.

Billy followed suit, opening his passport and glancing at the new information he needed to memorise as if he'd known it his entire life. He hadn't been able to choose their names, probably for the best since the only names he could think of were straight out of horror movies. Instead, he'd been given the identity of some guy who had died 25 years ago as a baby.

He dreaded looking at the photo, knowing his track record with pictures. It was always a disaster. Sure enough, the small, grainy image made him want to burn the passport in his hand. His hair was a mess, and the day's heat had left him visibly sweaty. He squinted at the picture, hoping it might somehow improve. It didn't.

Resigned, he closed the passport, trying not to draw Stu's attention to his awful photo. He knew Stu would mock him mercilessly, just like he did with their freshman photos.

The horror.

"Yo man, another great picture day!" Stu flipped his passport around, revealing his photo. He looked deadpan, as deadpan as Stu could manage, but there was still a hint of a smirk visible even through the black-and-white grain.

He looked good. Much better than Billy.

Fucking bastard.

"Good for you, dipshit." Billy shoved the photo out of his face, grinding his teeth, and Stu's hand fell back, the passport landing on the table with a careless toss that Billy would never tolerate for his own, knowing it was worth more than anything they had right now.

Stu made one last sneaky attempt to snatch Billy's passport, trying to hide his attack with a careless stride, his hands snaking around, but Billy caught it, slapped it away, spun on his heel and grabbed Stu's jaw all in one movement. "You are not getting a look at it, Macher," he ordered, his fingers pressing into Stu's cheeks and puffing out his lips. Stu just huffed and laughed.