20
ANTHONY
It was getting dark by the time they reached their destination. In the last few minutes, they had passed houses so big they may as well have been mansions, each far enough from the next to have its own street.
“It’s the house over there,” Ethan said, pointing ahead.
Anthony stopped the car on the side of the road, far enough to not raise suspicion, yet still close enough if they needed to flee. It wasn’t yet fully dark, making it easy to spot the two-story Victorian mini castle, even with no lights inside.
“I don’t see a car at the front,” Ethan said. “Maybe it’s in the garage.”
“Maybe, but it seems like no one’s home.” Anthony killed the engine. “Let’s go check.”
They got out into the chilly evening air, the vast valley around them picturesque under the setting sun. Yet the area also carried an eeriness Anthony couldn’t shake, maybe because of the absolute quiet; he’d been living in the city long enough to grow accustomed to the constant humming of traffic and people.
They made their way toward the house, the gun tucked safely in Anthony’s waistband, although he didn’t like walking around with something so deadly.
There was still no sign of life when they walked up the road leading to the property. The vegetation around had seen better days, with weeds growing here and there and flowers that had begun to wither.
“Remember the plan?” Ethan asked quietly.
“Yes.”
They were to pretend that their car had broken down. A cliché for sure, but they preferred to peacefully gain access into the house. Dima, if there, would be their biggest threat, the one who would recognize them immediately.
Facing the large entrance door, it was impossible not to notice all the empty alcohol bottles scattered on the wide porch.
Ethan knocked on the door while Anthony kept his hands behind his back, close to the gun. A stressful minute passed before Ethan said, “They’re not home.” He tried the door handle, but it was unsurprisingly locked. “Let’s look around.”
“They might have security.”
“Good, let the police arrest us. They’ll have to track down the psycho brothers, and at least we’ll know where they are.”
There was logic in that, although Anthony preferred not to get arrested. “We can also check with the neighbors.”
“I doubt they’ll know anything being so far away, but we can try.”
They walked around the house, where a human-sized topiary decorated the wide garden. At first glance, Anthony was impressed by the precise work, but a closer look revealed that those had also been neglected, bound to become plain bushes soon. Every window they passed by showed a dark interior and no sign of life. Once on the back patio, where more alcohol bottles lay around, Ethan nudged Anthony. “Check this out.”
They walked to the back door, which was slightly ajar. Either someone had been reckless, or this was a trap. Anthony pulled out his gun, the feeling unpleasant yet empowering. He nudged the door open and stepped into the kitchen, smelling a waft of old food; not yet rotten, but soon to be. Dishes piled up in the sink, some scattered on the kitchen counter.
They continued deeper into the house and reached the wide living room.
“I’m turning on a lamp,” Ethan said before warm light illuminated their surroundings. More dishes lay here and there, next to empty pizza cartons with some pizza still inside. Yet even the mess couldn’t take away from the prestige radiating from the room. Dozens of paintings made the space feel like a museum. Some were of epic scenes of war, while others were regal portraits of people who seemed incapable of smiling.
Anthony couldn’t imagine how anyone could feel comfortable living among such expensive—and intimidating—art.
“What do you think happened here?” Anthony nudged a shirt someone had left on the floor with his foot.
“Seems like two spoiled men needed to clean up after themselves for the first time, and it didn’t go well. Let’s keep looking around.”
“Maybe there’s an office here with information we can use to track them.”
Ethan rubbed Anthony’s back. “Lead the way, Sherlock.”
They found the office on the ground floor. Anthony switched on the light, his eyes moving from one mess to the next. “Did someone break in here?”
Ethan walked inside, trying not to step on any of the hundreds of scattered papers. “I think the brothers were looking for something. Money maybe, or maybe something to do with the will. Jay said that Trevor was becoming desperate.”
Anthony walked closer to where a big, framed photo had been taken down and put on the floor. The safe behind it had been left open and empty.
Anthony picked up the photo, the wooden frame well-crafted. His eyes glided from one face to the next. The two parents appeared elegant and handsome like movie stars. The woman smiled broadly, her lipstick overly red, as if she wanted to draw all the attention to her mouth. The man had an aristocratic vibe, similar to some of the regal portraits in the living room. His smile came across as disingenuous, maybe because of the cold look in his eyes. The older brother was as tall as his father, handsome with his jet-black hair and white-toothed smile. He carried a sense of smugness that made Anthony think he wouldn’t have liked him under any circumstances. The younger brother was chubby, with a hollow expression. His thick glasses made him look older, and something about the way he stared at the camera made Anthony uncomfortable.
Ethan came closer and ran his fingers over the teenager at the center of the photo. Chris stood stiffly, his blue eyes tired, and his face too pale. He didn’t fit in with the rest of the family, and Anthony would have felt so without even knowing he’d been adopted. The woman had her hand on Chris’s shoulder like a claw, her nails as red as her lips. The older brother had his hand behind Chris, seemingly resting on his ass.
“We’ll find him,” Ethan said firmly. “Both of them.”
Anthony put the photo down. “Should we start going over these papers?”
“I’m going to look upstairs first. You can start here.”
“You sure? Maybe we shouldn’t split up.”
“The house is empty. I’ll be back soon.”
Anthony sat down with the gun on the floor next to him. He picked up some of the scattered papers and started reading, but everything turned out to be finance-related—lines and lines of figures and dates. He kept reading, hoping to find any sort of clue to the brothers’ whereabouts, but how would he even know how to spot it? He wasn’t likely to stumble on a map with a red circle around the treasure.
A few minutes later, Ethan came back looking troubled.
Anthony put down the papers he’d been reading. “What’s wrong?”
Ethan sat next to him, holding what seemed like a stack of photos. “I found those in one of the bedrooms, hidden in a drawer.”
Anthony took the photos. He only needed a single glance to understand Ethan’s reaction. His stomach got tighter and tighter the more he saw, until it started to hurt. A teenage Chris appeared naked in most of the photos, staring at the camera with a void expression. When he wasn’t naked, he wore sleazy clothes. A couple of the photos were from an event, maybe a dinner party. The only visible face was Chris’s, but other people were clearly around. In one of the photos, he stood with large angel wings strapped to his back, his bare skin golden and gleaming.
An old memory resurfaced, making Anthony shiver. After the first time he’d slept with Chris, he insisted on taking Anthony’s intimate photos. How much of what they’d done had roots connected to this house and to this family? He took a breath, refusing to let those dark thoughts take over. What he and Chris shared had moments of beauty, of sincere intimacy that could never be associated with these sick photos, or with any of the dark memories floating around this house.
He tried hard to believe that.
Ethan took the photos back. “I’m keeping them. We might need them as evidence.”
Anthony nodded. The need to free Chris turned into a physical force, a piercing pain. He stood up, dizzy and nauseous, his skin hot. Without thinking, he lifted the framed family photo and hurled it against the wall. Glass splashed across the floor, with pieces of wood flying around.
Ethan came to stand next to him. “Did it feel good?”
“I think so. Yes.”
Ethan picked up a round glass paperweight from the desk. He bounced it in his palm, then threw it against the wall. Glass flew like bullets, luckily not hitting them.
Anthony locked his eyes with Ethan, both smiling in mischief. In seconds, they grabbed whatever they could find and smashed it to pieces. From the office, they stormed the living room.
Ethan took out his phone and put on “It’s The End of the World as We Know It” by REM. They both loved that song, and it felt fitting since their world might never be the same again. Ten, twenty, fifty years down the line, they would still carry the wounds of Chris and Jay’s absence.
With the drums and guitars bouncing between the walls, they wreaked havoc like a raging tornado. They broke, smashed, and shattered everything they could grab. A sea of debris formed on the floor, yet Anthony couldn’t find satisfaction.
When there was nothing left to break, he breathed heavily, his shirt clinging to his sweaty skin.
Ethan stopped the music and slumped on the couch. “Fuck, I needed that.”
Anthony sat next to him. “And now we need a shower.”
“Badly.”
They smiled tiredly at one another, although there was little to smile about. At least they were in this shit together.
Ethan nudged a broken chair with his foot. “I didn’t know I was such a vandal.”
Anthony chuckled. “Yeah, dating you is definitely a wild roller coaster ride.”
Ethan’s eyes narrowed. “A roller coaster ride...”
“What?”
He grabbed Anthony’s hand. “I just remembered something!”