Chapter 9
Chapter
Nine
MATHEW “MATTY” GATES
Ihover in the door as they climb into bed together and wrap around each other. They stripped right in front of me without caring that I was there. Then again, maybe they didn’t realize I was still here. I shouldn’t be, right? I’m being creepy.
“Are you going back to your room, Matty?” Darwin asks through a yawn.
Zephyr shifts to look at me, though I don’t think his eyes are open enough to see me.
“I… I guess.”
“You want to stay here tonight?” Darwin asks.
My chest feels tight. “Can I?” I whisper.
“Yeah, come on,” Zephyr says. “You’re welcome to whatever clothes that you can find. Or join us naked—whatever. Just not the clothes you wore in the woods. Alright?”
I nod. “Yes, thanks.”
Mrs. Callendale tsks. She’s shaking her head as she watches me step into the room.
If I weren’t still feeling uncomfortable with the silent dead surrounding me, I might choose to simply strip down to my underwear, but I feel like they’re watching me extra closely right now after having been yelled at.
Mrs. Callendale was an old woman who used to oversee the family who built this place. She says some of her fondest memories were here, and she died on the water when their boat back to shore capsized, which is why she returned to the castle.
She’s always hovering around me, scolding me when I don’t eat or whatever. She’s motherly, which I kind of enjoy.
But right now, when she’s tsking at me in disapproval, I like her presence a little less.
“This is inappropriate, lad,” she says. “Wearing another man’s clothes. Getting in bed with them—they’re naked!”
The scandal in her voice makes me grin.
“There was a son of the Frisk family who was always sneaking one of the male servants into his quarters. But that was just one servant, child. One. You can’t join the bed of two. That’s—that’s… You can’t!”
I don’t answer her. I rarely answer her when she talks. I shuffle through Zephyr’s drawers until I find some shorts and a long-sleeved shirt. I let my sweatsuit puddle at my feet and climb into the borrowed clothes. Last, I push my socks off and then pad my way back into the room.
Mrs. Callendale is still chastising me. Warning me off the scandal that will forever hang on my shoulders. “What about that nice man who comes to call on you? What will he think?”
Her mentioning Liam makes me tense, but I still don’t answer. I’ve found that when I acknowledge the dead, they simply never shut up.
At the edge of the bed, I stare down at Zephyr on top of Darwin. I think they’re sleeping. They look dead to the world.
“Come here,” Darwin murmurs. He doesn’t sound awake.
I hesitantly climb onto the bed and lie down. Simultaneously, as if they practiced, both men reach for me and haul me toward them. I grin and happily bury myself in the crevice between them as best I can. Their arms wrap around me, and then a blanket is tucked in tightly.
I sigh, letting myself relax entirely. I still hear Mrs. Callendale telling me to get out of the bed at once and return to my own room with respect, but now that I’m warm and wrapped in someone’s arms as if they want me here, sleep is almost instantaneous. I’m not alone. I love not being alone.
I wake to fingers moving through my hair, playing with my curls. There are fingers moving on my arm, too. Softly, slowly, absently. No one is talking. No one moves except for these little actions.
My face is tucked between their bare chests.
Zephyr has adjusted just a little bit, so there’s enough room between them for me to slightly burrow there.
Now that last night’s activities aren’t lingering in my brain and making me feel alone and needy, I realize just how inappropriate it is for me to be here practically stuffed between two naked men, neither of whom I’m involved with.
“You awake?” Zephyr asks.
“No,” I answer.
He chuckles. “I need to piss.” His hand tightens in my hair for a minute, but it’s an affectionate gesture, I think. Then he’s pulling away.
I curl in, not at all welcoming the chill that reaches for me in the absence of his body. I whine pathetically, making Darwin chuckle. “He’ll be right back. He gets really whiny when he needs to pee and I don’t let him up.”
“I didn’t know you two were seeing each other,” I say.
“Uh… we’re not, I don’t think. This is kind of happenstance.”
“It is?” I peek up at him.
Darwin smirks. “Yeah. I propositioned him for sex, and he agreed.”
I grin. “Oh.”
Zephyr returns, but he climbs behind me instead of back on top of Darwin, and the next thing I know, I’m sandwiched between both men. Their legs tangle with mine, the blanket is pulled up to our necks, and they have me wedged tightly between them.
I sigh. “Thanks.”
“You okay?” Zephyr asks.
“Yeah. I’m sorry I didn’t go back to my room last night.”
“You don’t have to go back to your room,” Darwin says. “You can stay up here whenever you want.”
I think about that and nearly shake my head. “I make people uncomfortable.”
“Fuck their comfort,” Zephyr says, and I smile. “Their comfort isn’t your problem, Matty. Don’t take it on as your burden to deal with.”
“No one’s ever said that to me before,” I murmur.
“Then they’re all asshats,” Zephyr says.
I wonder if he knows I was thinking about Liam when I made that comment. Of all the things Liam says to try to make me feel better, that’s never been one of them.
“Can we stay in bed like this today?” I ask.
I’m feeling ridiculously needy. I miss cuddles.
I miss company and not being alone. Before my sentence of solitude in the bowels of Dark Island, I’d never understood the weird oxymoron of silence being loud.
I understand it in a way I don’t care to now.
It’s not just loud, though. It’s deafening. Maddening.
“Right up until Zeph needs to be fed. You don’t want to see him hangry,” Darwin says. Behind me, Zephyr nods. “He gets really grumpy. It’s cute, but he also gets grumpier when you tell him it’s cute.”
“I do get grumpy,” Zephyr says. “We need to take care of the boat and check out the building today, but otherwise, we can snuggle up on the couch, snack, and watch movies. Okay?”
“Up here?” I ask.
“You can stay up here forever, Matty,” Darwin says. “I mean it—you don’t have to go back to the room in the tunnels if you don’t want to.”
“It’s… cold down there,” I say. “And crowded.”
“Crowded?” Zephyr asks.
As if knowing I was referencing them, I’m very aware of the spirits hovering around the room right now. All watching, silently, staring at me. I glance beyond Darwin’s shoulder and stare at them all staring at me.
“It’s crowded up here, too,” I note. “I guess maybe I’m just crowded.”
“The ghosts?” Zephyr asks.
I nod. “Yeah. The dead follow me.”
Their arms tighten around me. For a while longer, we’re quiet. I doze. Their hands soothe me here and there, taking turns running through my hair or over my shoulder, along my waist. Mrs. Callendale continues to tsk every few minutes. She hovers around the bed. Every time I open my eyes, I see her.
I feel Zephyr’s stomach rumble. It feels like he’s growling, though it’s his stomach, not his chest, that vibrates. I laugh at the feeling.
“That’s the sign that the tank needs some fuel,” Zephyr says. His hand squeezes around my wrist briefly before rolling away. “I’m taking Darwin with me, but we’ll be right back, okay?”
Letting my body roll backward onto the bed that’s warm from his body heat, I nod.
He’s naked, as I knew he was. But unlike last night, there’s plenty of light filling the room now.
I see him. All of him. Neither man needs to explain to me why they’re taking a shower together. I imagine I’m getting in their way.
“Okay,” I say.
“You’re free to wear whatever you find in the closet,” Zephyr offers.
“You don’t mind if I wear your clothes?”
“Nah. Darwin’s room is down the hall. I’m sure he won’t mind either.”
“Right out of the door and three doors down on the right,” Darwin supplies as he disappears into the bathroom. The door shuts, and I’m left alone in the room with no one but the dead.
I wait for the silence to close in, but it’s different. Maybe because I know I’m not actually alone. Only a door separates me from more living people.
“Get up, child,” Mrs. Callendale insists. “Leave this room and conduct yourself properly.”
Not that I actually plan to listen to her, but I have to pee, so I need to get up anyway. Sighing, I push back the blankets and head for the door. I pause just over the threshold because my dirty clothes are in Zephyr’s closet.
Then again, I don’t plan to go to my room right now. Not without socks at any rate. I’ll probably join the dead if I walk on the freezing stone floors for that long.
I’m heading to Darwin’s room, though. He’s far closer to my size than Zephyr is.
Zephyr just has more bulk, while Darwin is leaner.
If I’m going to borrow more clothes and wear them as I move around today, they should stay up on their own.
Holding the waist of my pants like I am now will get old quickly.
Darwin’s room looks similar to Zephyr’s in size. The bathroom door is peeking open, and I poke my head in. First, some socks. My feet are already cold. Although I’m dancing to alleviate the pressure on my bladder—yeah, like that helps—I hate when my feet are cold.
It doesn’t take me long to track down some socks, slip into them, and then practically run to the bathroom. I poke around the drawers when I’m done and find a new set of toothbrushes, so I help myself to one and brush my teeth.
On my way out, I pause in front of the shower and determine whether I want to use his shower too.
I was traipsing through the woods last night.
Yes, I took the clothes off, but still. Chewing the inside of my lip, I decide to wait.
I already stole a toothbrush, and all I have permission for are his clothes, so I’m not going to push my luck.
They don’t seem to hate my company, even if I get in the way of their extracurricular activities.
I find a pair of pants that fit well enough and then a tee under a hoodie.
The castle gets cold throughout the year, but especially in the winter.
It’s like cracks open in the walls and freezing air creeps along the corridors.
When I’m finished, I peek into Zephyr’s room, but I think they’re still in the shower. The bathroom door is shut. I’m tempted to tiptoe in, despite Mrs. Callendale’s chiding voice in my ear, but maybe that’s pushing the boundaries of their privacy a little too far.
Instead, I head to the kitchen. Admittedly, it’s been a long time since I’ve actually cooked something. Probably since before I became trapped on Dark Island. I used to enjoy cooking, didn’t I? I feel like I did. It feels like a lifetime ago.
I stop at the fridge and poke around. Hmm.
What am I feeling? My eyes snag on the eighteen-count carton of eggs and heavy cream.
I suddenly have a craving for French toast. I grab the two items along with the bowl of berries and a stick of butter and set them on the counter before heading into the butler’s pantry.
It’s a true butler’s pantry with practically a second kitchen inside.
I find the bread—a big, freshly baked loaf—cinnamon, vanilla, and powdered sugar. I enjoy French toast because it tastes complex when you do it right, but it’s relatively simple with few ingredients.
I’m just dropping a small slice of butter into the hot pan when Darwin and Zephyr step into the kitchen. They flash me smiles, and then those smiles turn to each other. I feel like I’m definitely a third wheel.
They sit at the island while I cook, keeping close and including me in their conversation, but I catch them sneaking kisses constantly. Their flirting is far more evident than it had been earlier. Maybe because I’m not literally between them.
Over their shoulders, I see the dark figure of Jared.
His appearance makes me freeze for just a second.
He’s one of the scariest dead people who linger.
His eyes are sunken or maybe missing. And yet there’s no doubt that he’s looking straight at me.
He doesn’t wear clothes in the traditional sense, though I don’t see him shaped with typical human anatomy. Instead, he looks like one big bruise.
Everything about him is chilling. I hate when he’s around.
Especially because he’s one of the dark figures that get the others riled up and their entire energy changes.
Right now, they simply exist. They move around as if they’re living…
uh… dying their lives? Okay, that doesn’t work.
Living their lives also feels like salt in a wound.
Anyway, they’re going about their business, maybe as they had once when they were alive. But as soon as Jared speaks, a darkness overtakes them and they close in. They begin talking about the dead. The blood on my hands. The bodies that will rise and condemn me to hell.
Or jail.
My heart begins to race in anticipation as I try to focus on my toast. My hands are shaking though.
I’m concentrating so hard that I don’t notice that Darwin is beside me until his hand covers mine on the spatula and I jump.
“What’s wrong?” he asks. “What happened?”
I glance up at Jared, still hovering in the door. Staring. My eyes dart back down to the pan. “Nothing,” I whisper.
“That’s a lie,” Zephyr says. “Something happened. We see you on the verge of panicking.”
“Are the ghosts being assholes again?” Darwin asks, his voice not nearly as soft as it usually is. Before I can answer, he looks up and scans the room. “Back the fuck off,” he barks. I jerk at his words. “If you’re going to be a bunch of dicks, you can leave. That energy isn’t welcome here.”
Jesus. I don’t think anyone has spoken to the dead like that. I peek at the door again, and Jared is gone. Holy hell. That… worked?
“Very good, young man,” Mrs. Callendale tells Darwin. “Tell them how to behave. Very good.”