Chapter 10
Chapter
Ten
ZEPHYR
There’s no direct route to Matty’s room in the tunnels under the island unless we go outside and through the door hidden in the back of a shed. Otherwise, we’re winding through the dark, echoing tunnels for what feels like hours.
I’ve always wondered what these tunnels were actually made for. I’m convinced that at the time the castle was built, the tower in the woods and the tunnels underground were built too. I’ve only been inside the tower once. It’s creepy in a strange, library kind of way.
Because the tower itself is an enormous library filled with books of all ages.
Lore says that when the tower was made, it was the inception of the Society of the No Face.
The castle was built to conceal the secret society, and the boat club is the face that everyone in the world sees.
In reality, it hides the secrets underground and deep within the trees.
The interesting thing is that somewhere along the way, the Society of the No Face vanished. There are a lot of stories and rumors that explain why they closed down a decade or so after the castle was complete. The walls were sealed up. The doors hidden. The tower in the trees left to crumble.
Then, twenty-five or thirty years ago, our parents’ generation brought back the secret society. They found some tunnels. They found the tower of books. They found some old manuscripts of the No Face.
But there are questions that no one can find answers to.
We know we don’t have access to all the tunnels.
We don’t know which are missing or where to look for them.
There are two caretakers of the tower who are here usually year-round as they search for answers in the tower.
They rarely leave it, which is why there’s always someone in the castle during the off-season.
But Triton and Rome went home for the holidays this year. Which means the tower is empty. It means that the cold tunnels are silent and empty too.
I glance at Matty and muse that he’s probably a much stronger person than I am. If someone had told me I’d be living in this subterranean room from now on so I don’t spill the bloody skeletons of a secret society that I failed to gain admittance to, I’d have lost my shit.
To be fair, that’s exactly why Matty is sentenced to a life here. His failure to carry out his initiation should have been his own death. He knows the secrets. That means he takes them to his early grave.
Liam’s begging and bargaining saved Matty’s life, but only if Matty stayed on the island until he died, since his attempted initiation broke him and he began raving about dead bodies.
One could argue he was simply ranting about nothing, but he knew where bodies were that no one else did.
Yeah, we looked that shit up, and it’s freaky as fuck.
There’s no doubt that he hears ghosts. I may not see or hear them, but Matty is proof enough for me that they’re here. They’re here and harass him until he’s curled in a ball, begging them to leave the bodies buried.
Yet, he’s been upstairs with us for a week now, and I haven’t seen more than the single moment in the kitchen when he was on the verge of a panic attack brought on by the ghosts. How sick is he really? Perhaps he’s less sick than we’re led to believe. Which does nothing but irritate me more.
I don’t know the full story of what happened with Matty.
Initiates aren’t all that exciting to me, so I don’t actually pay a lot of attention to what’s going on.
Admittedly, I’m usually pretty well caught up with what’s going on in my own life.
I like fun with very little seriousness, which means when I’m here, I’m hardly ever paying attention to the business side of things unless we’re called together for something.
Such was the case when Reynold Hildreth shoved Jude’s new boyfriend, Conner, through a bookshelf that had concealed a hidden door no one knew about and plunged him into our secrets, practically sentencing him to death.
Instead of telling anyone what happened, he remained silent until an alarm sounded and we had to go into the tunnels with the only information that an intruder was where they shouldn’t be.
Conner didn’t lose his life; Reynold did.
He was a dick anyway. I’m not sure his family even liked him much.
The man had a serious chip on his shoulder and didn’t give a fuck how he treated other people.
He thought he was untouchable. But when you mess with someone that the Van Dorens have taken a liking to, and they make up half our numbers in No Face, you’ve chosen the wrong battle.
In reality, it wasn’t Jude’s insistence that they let Conner go. It wasn’t me standing by his side. It was Arek Van Doren, who just happened to go to school with Conner, and was also his frat brother. Once Arek took his stance, Arek’s brother and cousins followed.
Reynold was dead right then and there. He crossed the wrong psychopath.
I smile at the memory. Seems that when you know one psychopath, your connection to those with antisocial disorders explodes. Arek and his twin Orev are psychopaths. Their father is a sociopath. Their uncle is undiagnosed, but I’ve heard Arek and his cousins call him unhinged more than once.
Uncle Ellory loves to play in blood.
I shiver.
I didn’t know about Darwin’s father. Then again, if I’d paid him much attention, I’d have figured it out.
The world didn’t learn of Azure Dayne’s diagnosis until after his career.
Can you imagine the field day the media would have had if they’d known they had a psychopath on the ice?
Good lord, the far-right Christians would have somehow tied him directly to hurting children to end his contract.
That’s the answer to everything, after all. Prove through your own skewed research that a certain person or group of people hurt children.
Azure never hurt a child. I glance at Darwin and amend my thought.
He never physically hurt a child. I’d be willing to bet that he loves his son more than Darwin believes.
I understand, like very few people ever will, what it’s like to have a psychopathic father.
In his own way, Dadaz loves us incredibly deeply.
The thing is, as I’m sure Darwin knows, people with antisocial disorders don’t experience feelings in the same way.
I refuse to believe that they’re incapable of feeling.
After spending a lifetime with two such people, I can confidently say that they don’t recognize emotions as defined by a neurotypical individual.
To them, their emotions are defined differently.
For my dad and brother, it’s the obsessive protection of their family. That’s how they show their love. I’m willing to bet it’s the same with Darwin’s father. Or maybe something similar.
We finally arrive in Matty’s room, and he takes the duffel I was carrying.
While I don’t think Darwin or I care that he’s wearing our clothes, it means we’re doing more laundry than necessary.
I have a limited number of warm clothes since I hadn’t planned to extend my stay.
Honestly, I don’t mind that I have to do laundry every few days, but Darwin thinks Matty will feel better if he has some of his things.
His room is more like a studio apartment, but also like a show set. One side is completely open to the hall as if ready for cameras to shoot a scene. In a way, every single angle of the room can be seen from the wide opening. It’s perfect for a set.
Matty sets to work opening drawers and stuffing his clothes into the duffel bag.
Darwin meanders to the galley kitchen, and I stand against the end of the bed.
I don’t like the silence down here. It’s no wonder Matty wasn’t getting better with time.
This isn’t healthy. There’s a reason solitary confinement is a form of torture and cruel punishment in prisons.
Humans aren’t meant to be left alone like that.
“I hate that you live down here,” Darwin mutters.
Matty shrugs one shoulder as he zips the bag up.
I cross the room and take it from him. “You want to grab anything else?”
Without speaking, he nods and heads to the bed to take the three pillows and the thick comforter. Darwin takes them from him, and I grin because he can’t really see around them. Trying not to laugh, I strap the duffel across my chest and take the pillows from Darwin so he doesn’t fall on his face.
Matty gathers a few more loose items, and after giving the room a once-over, he nods. “Okay.”
“We can come back and grab whatever you missed, or we can’t carry,” I assure him.
He nods. I watch as he steps aside and gives the empty air a glare. Matty huffs and heads toward us. “Let’s go. Please.”
In silence, we make our way upstairs. Every time I’m near Matty’s room, my respect for Liam falls a little more. Not that I visited Matty often. We weren’t friends. I’m realizing a little more every day how closed off I made myself from anyone not inside my very small circle.
When we reach the second floor where our rooms are, we pause and wait for Matty to choose a room.
“Is anyone in this one?” Matty asks, peeking his head in one that’s between mine and Darwin’s.
“No one but the three of us who are here right now,” Darwin tells him. “You can sleep wherever you want.”
“I don’t want to sleep in someone else’s room. Where’s Liam’s?”
“Upstairs,” I say, inclining my head toward the ceiling.
Matty shakes his head. “No. Okay. How about this one?”
“Moll is in that one. Paul in that one. I think this one is usually empty, though,” Darwin says as he pokes his head into an open door.
I nod in agreement. I don’t think anyone is in that room either. Matty nods. It’s across the hall from the room right beside mine, so he’s close. Hopefully, it’ll alleviate any lingering feelings of being alone.
Darwin sets the enormous comforter on the bed.
I dump the pillows with it and then set the duffel at the end.
Matty sets the few things in his hands onto the desk and looks around.
Already, he looks like he has more color.
Just in the past week upstairs, where there are windows and sunlight, though little sunlight this time of year, he doesn’t look so sallow.
There’s also a little smile that lingers on his lips. Yep, I don’t like Liam. It’s decided.
“We’ll let you get settled,” Darwin says, gripping Matty’s wrist. “Then we’ll watch a movie. Okay?”
Matty smiles. “Yeah. Thanks.”
The more time we spend with Matty, the more I feel like he’s a younger…
okay, not sibling. I’m not feeling any familial emotions toward him.
But he feels like someone young and precious that my instincts are urging me to protect.
Which is funny every time the instincts rise in me because he’s not younger.
He’s older than me by four or five years.
Maybe because he’s smaller than me. In my brain, anyone smaller than me equates to younger than me. Hmm. I wonder how old Darwin is.
I follow Darwin out, and he heads for his bedroom. He stops in front of the window overlooking the courtyard, and I can practically see the way his shoulders are tense. It’s because he hasn’t been dicked down in the past few hours. I’m sure.
From behind, I grip his hips. “What’s wrong?”
“I hate Liam,” he mutters. “I wasn’t his biggest fan since Matty was sentenced to exile here, but the more we get to know Matty, the more I resent Liam. What a shit fucking person to do this to someone he’s supposed to love.”
“I’ve been thinking that, too, though not quite in those words.”
He sighs heavily. “It really pisses me off. Matty deserves better. He deserves someone who will actually give a shit about him.”
“Like you?”
My question startles Darwin. He twists to look over my shoulder, and the surprise in his eyes has me laughing.
“I wasn’t implying—”
“I know, Darwin. But man, the look on your face right now.”
His eyes narrow. “Know what I want?”
“To kick Liam in the balls until he can’t have kids?”
Now I’m looking at amusement. “He’s gay, so I’m not sure producing kids that way is high on his priority list, but no, though what I want definitely has to do with balls.”
“Ohh. You want to be fucked right now. Don’t you?”
“Yep.”
“I can get on board with that. Strip down, sweetheart. Get on the bed. Present that pretty fucking hole to me.”
Darwin doesn’t waste any time. He does exactly what I tell him to.
I watch as I discard my clothing on the way to the nightstand to retrieve our supplies.
Absently, as I wrap a condom around my growing woody, I muse that we’re going to need to order a recurring supply of condoms with our bi-weekly grocery delivery.
Lube is far more abundant than condoms, interestingly enough.
I join him on the bed and bury my lubed fingers in his ass.
He groans, his head dropping. I just fucked him in the shower a few hours ago, so it’s not like he needs a lot of prep.
This is exactly how I like to keep him. I like that he’s ready for me.
It means I can fuck him anytime, anywhere, without taking too much time to stretch him.
Not that I’d hurt him. If he needed thorough stretching every time, I’d make sure to treat him right. Always take care of your bottom. Always.
Movement at the door has my heart jumping. For just a second, I think I’m about to catch a glimpse of my first ghost. When I shift to look, I spot Matty in the door. Hmm. When he lingers, I think maybe he wants a show.
“Turn over,” I tell Darwin.
He falls onto the bed and rolls. I haul him back to me and bring his knees to my left shoulder, working out in my mind how Matty can get a good view.
Yep, I think this’ll work. I haul Darwin around where I want him, so his head is hanging off the end of the bed.
Matty has a side view. He has a good shot of what we’re doing this way.
To keep Darwin from peeking at Matty and getting shy, I wrap my hand around his neck and push his head off the side of the bed while I bring my dick to his hole. He gasps loudly as I slide in without pausing. His body jerks, hands gripping the edge of the bed, spine arching.
I grin. Still love keeping his legs together like this. Over a single shoulder is wonderful. I have the extra benefit of folding him in half with my body weight.
I don’t look directly at Matty but watch him from the corner of my eye as I begin fucking Darwin. The louder Darwin gets, the more Matty adjusts his weight from one leg to the other. Mmm. I’m not sure if I have an exhibitionism kink, but I’m definitely liking an audience.