“That’s what they trust us for,” Chuck said, nodding. “Stirling, wherever you and Molly are staying, make another reservation for Torrance. I’ll call him tonight and set things up.” He paused and grimaced. “And not to sound too bougie for words, but do we really have to take three goddamned jets to Napa? ’Cause seriously—one is necessary, but three is overkill.”
Leon gave a feline grin. “It’s only overkill if the lovely Ms. Dormer-Salinger and I have to share mine.”
“We could all fit in one,” Lucius said thoughtfully, “but I don’t think that would be a good idea. People talk. Three jets, three different independent airfields, three different cars set to bring us where we need to go.”
“Mm… maybe not. Book Hunter and Grace a room at the cheap hotel too,” Chuck said. “Just for a couple of days before their expensive hotel reservations kick in. Hunter can fly the four of you down and do some more poking around. I just might go with him. I have the feeling that if we find this nest of snakes, it’s gonna be rattlers.”
“Fly me down with you,” Carl said. “Michael, you should meet us in Napa. That should give you time to figure out the best way to crate the bird. I may need to drive to Mexico for a bit, or maybe somewhere else in the state. I’d like to see if Ginger’s files have any more information on where we can find Mandy. I have the feeling she’s the key to all of this.”
“But I want to come with you,” Michael said indignantly. “You’re leaving me behind?”
Carl grimaced unhappily. “Baby, if Mandy is running around Mexico with big old velociraptor birds, there are probably some really dangerous people down there. I want you out of harm’s way.”
“Calling me baby is not going to make me forget that you’re trying to ditch me,” Michael retorted, eyebrows knitted together.
“Some of us need to stay here and keep things running,” Carl reasoned. “You’re sort of necessary to the whole household—hell, you’re necessary to the rest of us flying off into the wild blue yonder. And you’ve got a family, kids. Wouldn’t you rather…?”
“Mm, I think Saoirse can take over for Michael here,” Lucius said smoothly, referring to his own mechanic. “Particularly if I’m joining Chuck in Napa.”
Carl glared at him. “Mexico,” he said, hoping everybody in the room would understand the depths of his worry.
“Texas Delta Prison,” Michael responded, like that was the same thing. “And I speak Mexican Spanish, which is real different than Spain Spanish. You know that, right?”
Carl blew out a breath. He did speak Castilian Spanish, and he knew Michael was absolutely correct about that. “Look, we’re already taking Danny’s plan and tweaking it—”
“We’re tweaking it because Danny, Felix, and Julia are exhausted and sad and doing too much,” Chuck said flatly. “Michael, we’ll leave in three days. That should give you time to catch up with work and crate the bird. Lucius will have Saoirse fly in after you leave. I’ll give her permission to insulate your little hangar apartment. It might even be better when you get back. Carl, you were right earlier, but not now. He’s a big boy with big boy underpants, and he gets to come with the big boy expedition. Is there anything else?”
“Wow, Chuck,” Molly said with big eyes. “You sounded like Felix just then. Didn’t he sound like Felix, everybody?”
There were general nods of the head, and Lucius gave a sweet grin. “Sexy, right?” he asked.
“Oh, definitely,” Molly replied, her face completely straight.
“You people keep trying to get me to agree when you say things like that,” Stirling said, “and I’m still twenty years old.”
“Carl?” Chuck said, and Carl felt misgivings deep in his bowels, but Michael was still looking at him like he could spin moonshine into gold.
“Fine. You tell Hunter, I’ll tell Torrance Grayson. Stirling, text us the exact dates of the reservations and we’ll all go.” He looked at Phyllis apologetically. “You’re going to have an empty mansion for a bit, sweetheart.”
Phyllis shook her head and wiped her eyes on her shoulder. “As long as you all come back to fill it,” she said thickly before looking at Leon. “You and your children are welcome to stay as long as you need to. We can coordinate in the next few days.”
Leon nodded. “I am… honored,” he said after a moment. “For lack of a better word. I am honored to be part of your conspiracy.”
“Well, it’s clear Josh got his bentness from both sides of the family,” Chuck said, raising his glass of sparkling water. “That’s a compliment, son.”
Leon raised his own glass of sparkling water. “Again, an honor.”
They spent the next hour hammering out their plans, talking about approaches to use and giving each other shit. Carl was aware the entire time that Michael was sitting close enough for their thighs to touch, with his hand in the small of Carl’s back.
Carl’s sense of responsibility for the man was almost overwhelming.
THREE DAYS later, Carl closed his laptop, leaned back, and closed his eyes wearily. Thanks to some information Stirling had gleaned from the stolen files that pinpointed Mandy Jessup’s base of operations in coastal California—not far from the wineries in fact—instead of Mexico they were on their way to Napa, but he wasn’t any less worried now than he had been three nights before while staying up late and making plans.
As if hearing his thoughts, Michael, who was sitting next to him in Lucius Broadstone’s jet, yawned, snuggling his head a little tighter on Carl’s chest as they made use of the bench-style seat near the window.
They’d had three late nights, making love, talking, planning, cementing their lives together more tightly than Carl had ever dreamed possible, and Carl had come to an inevitable conclusion.
It hadn’t been responsibility he’d felt that night in Glencoe. It had been love.
He hadn’t known it then. He’d known he cared for the young man, known how lucky he was to have caught Michael’s attention, but he’d always been emotionally dense, and falling in love with Michael Carmody hadn’t fixed that.
That sense of well-being a person got when he woke up in the morning and saw his lover in bed next to him? That was love.
The hopes for the future, the subtle moments of planning, of thinking, “When we have a house, we’ll have to make sure it has two bathrooms,” or, “Wouldn’t a dog be nice?” That was love.
The unbearable moments of empathy, when a person realized how much his lover had suffered, and he wished, heartily wished, that it had been him instead? God, that was love too.
The moments of panic, the waking up with a pounding heart and terrible fears of an uncertain tomorrow? That was love as well.
Love wasn’t always happy. Sometimes it was terrifying or painful.
But the last four days had taught Carl that once it had happened, really happened, once the fall to Neverland had occurred, there was no flying out of that well. He was stuck, and his heart would only survive if Michael reached down to get him, day after day after day.