Chapter 18 Zach
EIGHTEEN
ZACH
Istared at the door.
Long after he left, I stared at the door, like Lookah. As if waiting for my owner to come back and give me life again.
I felt exposed out here, on my own, with a stranger in the house. Not that Slade was a stranger stranger. He’d been a regular like most of the other guys from their little group. Their Navy SEALs group. But I didn’t know Slade well. Not like I knew Dare.
I guessed Dare was also a stranger. Or he had been until two weeks ago when he pulled me into his arms and carried me away to safety.
We’d gotten closer since then. A lot closer. I mean, we slept in the same bed. It didn’t get closer than that.
Well, it did, but we hadn’t gone there. I didn’t think we ever would. If he was interested in me in that way, he’d have said so by now. Or done something about it at least.
It was okay. I’d made my peace with that.
And yet every second he was away from me was agony. Torture. My stomach hurt and my head throbbed.
What if he found Victor?
What then?
What if he didn’t come back?
I should have gone with him. I shouldn’t have stayed behind. Maybe if I was there I could help…somehow.
“Are you okay?” Slade asked me after a while—not sure how long—and I finally looked away from the door.
“Yeah. Uhm…I’m okay.” I glanced at the brioche dough and decided to put it in the oven.
Only then did I turn around and looked at Slade in the eyes.
“Are you hungry? Want pancakes?” Before he could reply I got to work. “I could do with some pancakes.”
“S-sure,” Slade added but I wasn’t listening anymore. I was too busy mixing in ingredients.
I could feel Slade’s gaze on me as I poured the batter on the pan but soon he turned his attention to his laptop.
In fact he got so distracted by it he didn’t even notice when I put a plate of pancakes with blueberries and chocolate chips drizzled with maple syrup right in front of him.
“Are you okay?” I asked in the same tone he had, minutes before.
His eyes darted to my direction and his brows furrowed.
“What?” I asked.
“You know the working theory about your ex working with the local criminals?”
I nodded.
“Well, it’s all but confirmed now.”
“Huh?”
Slade pushed the pancakes to the side and turned the laptop screen in my direction.
“While the guys are going after him, I was snooping on his phone. Trying to find out whatever I can about him.”
There was a small window on his screen that looked like a phone home screen, all with apps and the generic background behind it.
“Oh. Okay. What did you find exactly?”
Slade clicked on various apps, but most were empty. His photo gallery, his contact list, his search history. All except for his text messaging app.
There were two numbers there. The first one was mine and when Slade clicked on it, he found all the messages he’d sent me and the one I had a few minutes ago.
But the number underneath also had various text messages. Slade scrolled through the top and we started reading the chatter.
Victor: Found him thank you for the help
Unknown number: You know my help isn’t free.
Victor: I know ill help you with your little cause as long as I get to play first
Unknown number: My little cause isn’t so little and you better lie low or I’ll get you before those so-called vigilantes do.
Victor: right I hear you ill wait your instructions and in the meantime ill have my fun
Unknown number: Be careful. They’re very smart and resourceful. Don’t get caught. And that’s an order.
I leaned in closer and looked at the dates the messages were sent. They were from three and a half weeks ago. Right around the time I thought I’d seen him the first time.
I knew I hadn’t been hallucinating right around the time my truck burned down but it was good to have physical proof of it.
“Whose number is that?” I asked Slade.
“I don’t know but I guess it’s the guy who runs the show. Salieri.”
“Shit. Yeah, that makes sense. Can you do your piggybacking on this guy’s phone or is that not how it works?”
Slade smiled.
“See? You do understand. And I could but he’s a smart motherfucker. He uses burner phones. A lot of them. He knows we’re onto him and he’s wised up.”
“Crap. So we can’t find out who he is.”
Slade shook his head.
“He keeps a pretty low profile. We don’t even have pictures of him though it wouldn’t surprise me if he’s had plastic surgery to avoid being recognized.”
“Jesus!” I exclaimed.
“Rich criminals will do anything to continue being rich criminals. It’s a whole power trip slash drinking your own Kool-Aid thing.”
I nodded.
“Victor was rich and criminal. Believe me. I know.”
Slade narrowed his eyes and bit his lip.
“Wh-what did he do to you?”
I opened my mouth, but no words came out. How could I describe what Victor had done to me? How could I put it into words? How could I without sounding like the most pathetic creature who ever lived?
Thankfully, I was interrupted by a ringtone and Slade answered his phone, wasting no time.
“Hey…yeah…fuck…got it,” he said and I stared at his ear as if I could magically hear what was being said on the other end.
A cold breeze swept through my body and gave me goosebumps. My heart stilled the longer I didn’t know what was happening.
Slade hung up and frowned. He shook his head.
“Wh-what does that mean?”
“He wasn’t there. He knew we were coming.”
“How?”
He shrugged.
“His buddy must have warned him somehow.”
I took a step back, then another. When Slade got up and tried to approach me to comfort me, I just spun around and walked to the bathroom.
I needed to throw some water on my face. I needed to think. I needed…a lot of things but I needed space.
When I came out Slade had tucked into the pancakes and offered me his plate. Usually I’d turn it down. I preferred to bake when I was stressed but I didn’t even have the brain capacity to do that at the moment, so I sat down next to him, took his fork and cut a bite out.
“It’s delicious, by the way,” he said and I thanked him. “We’ll find him, Zach. Don’t worry. We will.”
I just nodded and stuffed my mouth some more. And when the pancakes were done, I ate the muffins I’d made for Dare.
A few minutes later, Dare came back and without even thinking, I found my way into his arms.
“I’m sorry,” he said and his gentle voice reverberated through me despite its somber tone.
“It’s my fault. I should have said something sooner. I got you guys mixed up in all this shit.”
Dare shushed me. He rubbed my back and shushed me.
“We’ll get him. I promise you,” he said but I didn’t know if he could make such a promise.
Victor was a slippery son of a bitch. And he definitely wasn’t one to run from a challenge. Especially one that involved me as the winning prize.
That was what I was to him.
A prize.
A reward.
Something shiny to keep on the shelf while it lost its luster and withered away into nothing.
Something to collect dust and beatings.
Slade’s phone rang again but I couldn’t even hear what he was saying. Everything had turned to white noise in Dare’s arms.
If only I could stay here forever.
“What?” Dare asked Slade and I turned my head in his direction.
“That was Donovan. He said a fire broke out at the lodge.”
Dread exploded inside me, and I felt myself go numb as I processed his words.
“L-l-lodge? L-Luna’s Lodge?” I asked.
“Yeah. It happened, like ten minutes ago, but the fire department has already put it out. It’s not too bad. Apparently it was contained to the west wing but thankfully no one was…”
I tuned him out and pulled away from Dare’s arms, from my safety blanket.
I stumbled backwards and shook my head as I remembered the old man. I’d bumped into him today. We’d hugged. He’d been so nice. So kind.
And that had been his undoing.
“It was him,” I said.
I knew I could sense him. Victor. I knew I could feel him watching me.
He was there. He had seen me with Mr. Rogers. He probably followed him and decided to play with me. To make me pay for not coming back to him.
“It was him. He did this. I know he did. He’s a pyromaniac. He loves seeing things burn,” I mumbled and kept walking backwards as both men glared at me.
Oh boy, did he love burning things. My fingers flared at the memory as if he was right here to put them through a candle flame and watch me suffer.
It was as if he was here burning my stuff and taking pleasure in destroying another thing I owned. I could smell the acid fumes assaulting my nostrils as yet another of his gifts went up in flames, turning into dust.
“Oh my God. What have I…what have I done?”
I ran. I spun around and ran into the bedroom, tears blocking my vision before I’d even hit the mattress. I couldn’t see. I couldn’t breathe.
“Zach!” Dare called out but I drowned out his voice with a pillow. “Zach,” he persisted.
It was my fault. I’d run away from him and now I was going to pay.
Everyone would unless I went back to him.
And I couldn’t even run anymore. How could I?
Nothing guaranteed he wouldn’t destroy these people anyway, just for fun.
If he thought I cared about them—and I did—he’d hurt them before running after me to hurt me too.
“Zach,” Dare whispered and lifted the edge of the pillow.
Light stabbed my eyes and I shut them harder. Tears stained the sheets under my cheek, but I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t do anything. I was powerless.
“Oh Zach, please don’t cry,” he whispered. “I hate seeing you like this.”
“It’s my fault,” I said, but I couldn’t hear my voice. Maybe I’d mouthed it. Maybe I’d wailed it. I didn’t know.
“It’s not, sweetheart. It’s not your fault. You did nothing wrong. He’s the monster, not you.”
I shook my head refusing to hear it. Refusing to hear anything, but…had he called me sweetheart?
“Don’t blame yourself for his actions. He’s a sick individual, and this has nothing to do with you. He’s at fault here—him and his perverted mind. Do you hear me? It’s not your fault.”
His hand brushed my cheek. His thumb wiped the tears in my eye. He leaned in closer until he was the only thing I could see.
“Don’t cry, sweetheart. Not for him, please. He doesn’t deserve it. You hear me? He doesn’t,” he whispered and I could almost taste his words.
It was then I noticed how close he was. How far apart our lips were, which wasn’t that far. I swallowed a knot in my throat and blinked away the blurriness so I could look back at his gorgeous eyes.
“There you go.” He smiled. “That’s better.”
I smiled back. I couldn’t help it when his affection filled me and replaced my misery and sadness with hope and happiness.
“You…” I started but had to clear my throat and blink some more before I continued. “You called me sweetheart.”
He pressed his lips together and nodded so gently it was barely noticeable.
“I’m sorry,” he said and tried to pull away but I put my hand on his face too and he stopped.
“Don’t be,” I said. “Do it again.”
I sounded pathetic, like a beggar, but I couldn’t help it. I was desperate to hear it again. As desperate as I was for my next breath.
“Sweetheart,” he said in a low, barely audible tone before saying it a little louder. “Sweetheart.”
I licked my lower lip and leaned in closer so I could beg some more.
“Again,” I said.
“Sweet—” he started and I caved.
I closed the distance. I locked his lips with mine and pulled him onto me so I could taste him.
He took a deep breath and pushed me back, his tongue sliding between my lips and waiting as if asking for permission.
I glided my hand along his cheek, to the side of his face to the back of his head and tugged him even closer as I opened up and let him in.
He kissed me and I kissed him back and it was…it was everything I’d ever dreamed it would be and more.
So much more.
Because in my imagination it was easy to stop. In reality? I never wanted to let go.
And more importantly, I didn’t know if I could.