Cass won’t need a smoke.
Neither of us will.
We need someone with a stronger stomach.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Zach
“You ever wish you could wipe out your memories?” Rube asks.
We’re in our Ghost’s bedroom. Neither of us would even consider sitting on the mattress, so we’re squeezed in beside each other on the blanket box at the foot of the bed.
I don’t even have to think about it. “No.”
“Not at all?”
We’re smoking a cigarette. It’s our third in a row—we’ve been putting them out on the carpet in a blatant show of disrespect.
It should feel petty, but instead it feels amazing. Like we’re extinguishing each and every one on the Ghost’s bare skin.
“No, because then they’d get away with it. All of them.”
“So revenge is better than forgiveness?”
I turn to him, narrowing my eyes. “I’m sorry, did I miss something? The last time I checked you were going to gouge out his eyeballs with your thumbs and then piss in the sockets.”
He looks away. “If we hadn’t come back here…”
I inhale deep.
Oh.
That’s what this is about.
“Rube, it’s not our fault. It’s not her fault. It’s theirs. Whoever took her. They initiated it, not us.”
“Would have had a hard time initiating anything if—”
I bang my fist on his thigh. “We’re going to find her. And we’re going to kill whoever took her, like we should have Gabriel.”
Rube is silent for more than a beat, so I look up at him. He’s frowning. “You don’t think it was Gabriel?”
I spread my hands like a prophet. “You really think it was?”
“Everything points to—”
“Exactly. Everything always points to him.”
Rube’s frown grows deeper. When he speaks, it’s slowly and carefully. “Yes, because he was the Guardian, and—”
He cuts off when I shake my head. “You know what. You’re right. Maybe it would be better if our memories were erased because we always storm in without thinking things through. We’re so consumed with rage, and hate, and revenge, we don’t ever stop to just…think.”
“You believe Gabriel was set up?”
I lay my hands in my lap, palms up, one on top of the other. I’ve been trying to meditate and shit—my therapist recommended it—but the only thing that happens when I close my eyes is that I’m immediately transported back to the basement.
It’s always been the case.
Which is why I get so little sleep. It takes a lot of effort to convince myself that I won’t wake up with some guy’s hand down my fucking pants.
“I don’t know what to believe anymore,” I tell him. “And I don’t know where Trinity is. And I don’t know if we’ll ever find her.”
I see Rube’s shoulders sag in my peripheral view.
“Maybe they’ll find something,” Rube says. “Apollo’s good with that shit.”
“It’ll have to be a fucking miracle they find.” I shake my head again. “I don’t think anything less is going to cut it. Not this—”
There’s a shriek of tires outside.
We’re up in an instant, storming to the bedroom window. It looks out on the street, to our SUV that’s just pulled up into the driveway.
Guess there’s no reason to be circumspect anymore. If anything, I hope we draw someone’s attention. If they come for us, at least then we’ll know who took Trinity.
Apollo jumps out of the passenger door, Cass a beat behind him. They race up to the front door.
Rube and I meet them halfway down the stairs. It’s crowded with the four of us, but that doesn’t matter.
Apollo’s holding out his phone. “Watch it,” he wheezes. “One of you—”
Cass snatches it. “Christ, Apollo, get some fucking exercise.” Then he looks at me, at Rube. “He figured out the password. He opened the file.”
“The one from Gabriel?” Rube asks, reaching for the phone.
Cass pulls it out of reach.
For a second, just one weird fucking second, I think he’s screwing around with Rube. That if he tried to go for it, Cass would pull it away again. Like driving away from someone before they can get in the car. But just a few feet. And then you apologize. And then do it again.
“Rube, my man,” Cass says quietly. Then he shakes his head. Looks at me. “I…don’t even know if we can.”
“Can what?” Rube growls, going for the phone again. This time Cass lets him take it.
“Watch it,” he says. Crosses his arms. He and Apollo share a look, and then drop their gazes. “We couldn’t.”
“It’s a video?”
They nod, still looking down.
Christ.
There’s a mess of noise from the phone. Rube turns it on its side, lifts his chin a little. But he’s holding it. He’s watching it.
I shift a little, peering over his arm at the screen.
Darkness. Then a flash of light. Pale blue carpet. Neat, clean. Suggestion of furniture which quickly resolves into a dark blue chest of drawers painted with big yellow stars. There’s a red toy robot on top, and a random assortment of He-Man action figures.
Jesus Christ.
But Rube says nothing.
And we keep watching.
The view pans to a bed. There’s a little boy sitting on the side. He has tear tracks down his face and his red Spiderman T-shirt is damp with spilled tears. He’s still hiccupping, and as the person holding the camera phone goes closer, he lifts a little fist and wipes it over his eyes.
“Hey, Justin,” someone croons softly. “Don’t cry.”
The boy frowns hard at the person holding the camera. “I wuh-want my muh-m-mommy.”
“Oh, I know. I know. She said she’ll be here any minute now.”
I glance up at Cass and Apollo. They’re staring at us now, both wide-eyed, like they’re waiting for us to shout Uncle.
The kid’s not even in a basement. Yeah, I couldn’t go down into the dark earlier, but he’s in a bright and sunny room.
Pussies.
But then I hear Rube swallowing. I look back at the screen.
It’s gone black.
My stomach clenches.
Light returns. It shows a slim figure walking away from the camera that resolves into a young, pretty woman.
Late twenties.
Dark, curly hair.
Bright blue eyes.
Freckles.
She goes to sit beside the little boy, and puts an arm around his shoulder. He cringes away, but she just ducks her head a little closer.
“Would you like some cookies and milk while you wait for Mommy?” she asks.
The little boy looks up at her, wary, and shakes his head.
“Are you sure?”
He drops his head a little. Sniffs.
She scoots closer. “I tell you what, Justin. Let’s have a nap, me and you. And when we wake up, your mommy will be here.”
Justin shakes his head. “I’m not tired.”
“I know.” She moves a lock of hair off his forehead, and looks straight at the camera. “But it will make the time go by so fast.”