“He…I dunno. Didn’t say where.” Then he closes his eyes, and I’m convinced he’s about to start crying.
“Cass?” Reuben’s voice legit makes me flinch.
I turn away from Apollo, letting go of his head and glancing around the tiny room as I talk to Rube. “Yeah, buddy? We got a serious fucking problem on our hands.”
Chapter Six
Zach
I’m headed to Gabriel’s room when I get the call. I shouldn’t even have checked who it was—my mission is set in stone. I must find Gabriel before he leaves Saint Amos.
We know he’s staying behind to oversee the repairs to Saint Amos. Him and him alone. Which is perfect, because by the time they figure out Gabriel’s missing, we’ll be lost in the woods. Even if they send out search parties, the chances of them finding that decrepit hunting lodge is slim to none.
Reuben is on his way to the admin offices. We want to make sure Gabriel doesn’t have a chance to escape if he happens to catch wind of his own death. Fuck, for all we know, he has a direct line to Satan and Old Scratch sends him prophetic messages every now and then.
Cass and Apollo are probably disobeying me and having a joint together somewhere. They take things like summer break too fucking seriously. It pisses me off, but I can’t really blame them for acting like the kids they are.
My phone rings as I step into Gabriel’s hallway. I hurriedly take it out of my pocket to silence it, cursing myself for being idiotic enough not to have done that already. When I see it’s an unknown number, my curiosity is piqued. Only a handful of people have this number and none of them would phone from an unknown number.
I hurry back down half a flight of stairs before answering, fully expecting to hear Gabriel’s voice on the other end of the line. Not that he’s one of the handful. But the feeling’s impossible to shake for the precious second before an old lady says, “Hello. May I please speak with Mason Price?”
It takes another second before I can answer. “Speaking.”
“Mr. Price, it’s Beverley from California Key Realty. Is this a good time?”
I stop breathing. My back’s against the wall, and I use it as support to slide down until I’m hunkered in a crouch.
I force myself to take a breath.
“No time like the present,” I say, and even manage a faint chuckle. “What can I help you with, Beverly?”
I stare at my phone for a few minutes after the call ends. My fingertips are still tingling. My chest still feels too tight. But for the first time in a long, long time, those feelings bring relief—even joy—and not anxiety.
It’s done.
It’s fucking done.
We got the house.
Soon as it’s out of escrow, it’ll be ours.
There’s a grin on my face, and I can’t seem to shake it. Fuck, I don’t even want to. I draw in a huge breath as I stand, and for a moment it feels like I’m still rising, like a fucking balloon some sweaty kid lost at the fair.
Christ. Why am I so surprised? In this economy, with my generous offer? But I am surprised. Fuck it, I’m shocked. Because honest to God I thought the Universe would send a last fuck-you to the four boys it’s been such a motherfucking cunt to all these years.
Nothing’s ever been easy.
Getting out of the basement.
Trying to keep us together. Focused.
It’s been hard fucking work all the way.
I can’t remember how many times I’ve wanted to give up. How often I’ve wanted to let the Universe win.
But then I’d think of them.
Of my brothers.
And I’d find my second wind. I’d get the strength I need to tell them we need to push on. And they’d rally. They always rally.
I shove my phone in my pocket and head for Gabriel’s apartment again. But my euphoria starts fading the closer I get. My steps become reluctant.
About a yard from his door, I slow down. Then stop.
This means everything to them, to me…but I can’t stop thinking about the house. I’m even getting fucking feels about it. All I want to do is spill my guts to them. I’d call them, but it has to be in person. I want to see their faces light up as I tell them about the infinity pool and the dance room and all those big fucking windows. Light everywhere. The coast so close you can taste salt in the air.
Fuck.
I rake fingers through my hair.
Fuck!
He’s one man, Gabriel, but suddenly I feel like I’m facing off against an army. And it’s just me this time. I don’t have any of them. Yeah, I’m only supposed to find out where he is. Track him until we’ve got everything in place to grab him. But it’s suddenly too real. And, at the same time, surreal.
I’m walking into a nightmare, when I should be heading for the life of my dreams.
That house is everything we’ve always wanted—
I close my eyes, shake my head.
What the hell am I thinking? Of course they won’t be happy. This—I open my eyes and glare at Gabriel’s door—this is what they want.
What I want.
What we’ve always wanted since that first repulsive hand touched us. Since that first voice whispered to us that everything was going to be fine, as long as we play along.
It’s just a game. You like games, don’t you, Mason? Can I call you Mason?
My skin crawls at the thread of unwanted memory, but I’m too agitated to push it away. So it slithers in deeper, grabs hold of my conscious mind.
I fold my fingers around Gabriel’s door handle. Open the door. It should be locked, but it isn’t.
This game, I call it hide and seek. But we’ll be playing it a little differently, okay?
My Ghost’s voice raises goosebumps on my skin. I grit my teeth and step inside Gabriel’s apartment. The next door is standing open. I swear I can hear sounds coming from inside.
I’m going to take this chocolate—you see it?—and I’m going to hide it. You like chocolate don’t you, Mason? You must be hungry. If you find the chocolate, then you can eat it.
My heart hammers inside my rib cage like a fist trying to break down a door. I slink to the side, pressing my back to the wall.
There’s a clatter from inside Gabriel’s room.
Fuck. He’s here. I have to leave. Go wait by the stairs. Watch him. Send a message, let my brothers know—
Now close your eyes, Mason. Close your eyes so I can hide the chocolate. Good boy. Keep them closed. I’m hiding it now. Good boy. Keep them closed. Give me your hand. Yes, good boy. Now I want you to find it. Go on. Don’t be scared. Put your hand in, Mason. There. You feel that? Feels good, doesn’t it?
Nausea wells up so fast, so bitter, I taste bile in my mouth before I can swallow it down.
The world swims, and for a second I’m convinced I’m back there in that room. My first night with my Ghost. Playing hide and fucking seek with a sicko.
I cataloged them all. My Ghost, their Ghosts. They’re all saved neat and tidy inside my head. Their voices, what their aftershave smelled like, the size and shape of their dicks. Any rings, or freckles or scars on their hands. Those that showed their faces? They’ll be the easiest to find. But we’ll find them all.