Chapter 21
Will
For Owen, he keeps telling himself. I’m doing this for Owen. He repeats these words in his head as he drives toward Justin Avenue. The world seems peaceful with the setting of the sun, but Will is too nervous to appreciate it.
He drives past a bouquet someone left on the side of the road. He wonders if he should stop and pick it up instead of coming empty-handed, but he dismisses the idea since going over there is the biggest gesture he can possibly make. He hopes he’ll be able to eat with how tense he feels.
He parks in front of Sheryl’s house, remembering being there once when Sheryl had a birthday party and Joel invited him to join. They were officially a couple back then, and people were wary around them, but the sheriff was there, so everyone was careful not to act disrespectfully.
Will climbs out of the truck and takes a deep breath. He’s wearing his regular clothes—flannel and jeans. He thought of dressing up, but he’s not here to make an impression. Either Sheryl accepts him as he is, or she can go to hell.
He walks toward the porch when the front door opens. Sheryl did dress up, or at least put on some makeup, which Will can’t remember her doing often. Her hair is tied back in a tight ponytail.
“Isn’t he with you?”
Will frowns. “Who is?”
“Owen. He was supposed to be here over an hour ago to help with dinner. I thought that maybe he decided to come with you.”
“He didn’t.” He tries to remember if Owen has said anything about meeting up before dinner, but the last time they spoke, they agreed for Will to come at seven.
Owen promised to be there already so Will wouldn’t get stuck alone with Sheryl.
For a second, he wonders if Owen did this on purpose to leave them no choice but to speak with one another.
But no, Owen wouldn’t have put him in such a spot.
“Have you tried the library?” Will asks.
“Francie said he left early to come here.”
They watch each other for a tense moment, and however dark their past might have been, it feels insignificant when Owen’s safety is on the line.
“I’m going to drive around town and look for him,” Will says. He knows where he’s going, but telling Sheryl that might reveal something Owen wouldn’t want her to know.
“I’ll do the same. Let’s meet here in an hour if we can’t find him. I’ll get the sheriff involved if I need to.”
“Okay. I’ll take the west side of town.” Before she can answer, he hurries back to his truck, hoping for Nate’s sake he isn’t behind this.
*
He doesn’t want to jump to conclusions, so he spends ten minutes driving around town, eyes darting to every corner as the sun disappears from the sky.
His grip on the steering wheel is strong enough to hurt, so he flexes his fingers and takes deep breaths.
He’s not going to make anything better by panicking.
He wishes he had less certainty that something bad has happened, but he can feel it in his gut like a crawling snake.
He gives up on the search and drives to Nate’s house.
By the time he arrives, it’s fully dark outside, and he has just over thirty minutes to get back to Sheryl.
Nate is home based on the television light flickering in the window.
Will has a flashback of sitting for hours in front of that damn television, watching horrendous and gruesome scenes for Nate’s sick amusement.
You see how real they made the blood look? That’s art.
He climbs out of his truck and walks over to knock on the front door. The television goes quiet. Nate opens the door and takes a step back in alarm.
“Relax,” Will says. “I’m not here to fight.”
“What do you want?”
“Owen is missing.”
Will watches Nate’s face as closely as he can. The man seems confused, but then understanding flickers across his face. “Sorry to hear that, but I don’t know why you’d think your boyfriend might be in my place. You two had a fight or something?”
Will takes a step closer. “Nate… I’m not here to play games.”
“I don’t know what happened to Owen.”
“You’re lying.”
Nate moves to close the door, but Will pushes it back before it can slam in his face. He shoves his way inside and says, “Where is he? Is it something to do with that undercover work?”
Nate crosses his arms, his pale skin cast by the light of the television. “I told you—”
“I was supposed to have dinner with him and his aunt. She’s out there right now looking for him.
If we can’t find him, I’ll have to tell her about that undercover job.
” Seeing the fear in Nate’s eyes, Will says, “If you just tell me where he might be, I won’t tell her about your connection to any of this, but you need to tell me right now. ”
Nate looks away, his jaw tight. A lot of thinking seems to be going on in his head. “I don’t know how to explain to you where he might be, but I can drive with you there. It’s out of town.”
Then something did happen to Owen. “You fucking bastard.”
“Hey, hands off! I could be wrong about this. Calm down if you want my help.”
Will takes a breath, though it fails to fill his tight lungs. “We’re leaving right fucking now.”
Nate glances at the door. “Yeah, okay. After you.”
Will opens the front door and steps outside with Nate, who says, “Shit, I need my shoes and a jacket.”
Will turns around. “If you try anything—”
“Yeah, not to catch a cold. Give me a minute.”
To Nate’s credit, he walks out in less than a minute with shoes and a jacket.
“How long until we get there?” Will asks.
“About thirty minutes, maybe less if you drive fast.”
Oh, Will is going to drive fast. He walks toward his car, knowing he should first find Sheryl; she’ll go crazy if he doesn’t show up like they agreed. Besides, if he’s going to face criminals, he’ll need more help than what useless Nate can provide.
He takes out his keys and starts to open the door of his truck when he notices Nate is still behind him.
Before he can turn around to ask why he isn’t going to the passenger side, pain explodes in the back of his head.
The world shifts around him, and gravity no longer supports his body.
He drops to his knees. His vision turns into a storm of blinking lights, and he realizes that Nate has hit him with his gun.
Will tries to shake his head and regain enough focus to react, but his energy is spent on trying not to crash. He feels Nate’s hand gripping the back of his neck.
I should have never turned my back on that snake.
Nate shoves hard, and Will can do nothing as his forehead collides with the truck’s door.
*
He hears music in the darkness.
The song sounds familiar, but it takes him time to recognize it as Dancing in the Dark by Bruce Springsteen. Slowly, he regains enough consciousness to realize how much pain he’s in.
He grimaces, his skull feeling like it’s shattered from the back of his head to the back of his eyes.
The song grows louder when the world becomes slightly more lucid.
He tries to move, but he’s sitting against a tree.
His arms hurt when he tries to move them.
They’re pulled backward, tied together with rope around the trunk.
He hears footsteps, then a palm hits his cheek. Will jerks his head up and cracks his eyes open to see Nate’s blurry shape. Half of his face is illuminated by pale light from a nearby lamp.
“Morning.”
Will blinks and tries to shift to a more comfortable position, but his hands are tied too tightly. A boombox close by keeps playing music.
“Have a sip. It’s good for the pain.”
Nate presses a bottle to Will’s lips. The strong smell of vodka swims up his nose. He shakes his head, but it costs him another slap. He stops struggling, afraid his bruised brain can’t take much more abuse. He needs to get out of these bindings and go find Owen.
“Drink.”
Will parts his lips and lets the bitter alcohol flow down his throat. He can handle the taste, but if he’s wasted, his chances of getting through to Nate will go down to zero.
The second Nate takes away the bottle, Will asks, “Do you want Owen to die?”
Nate blinks. His surprise seems honest, but anger takes over quickly. “Don’t act like what’s happening is on me.”
“You know where he is! How is it not on you if we’re wasting time on this shit?” Yelling intensifies the pain, but Will is furious, dreading the passing of time.
“I gave both of you enough warnings, didn’t I?”
“So you got him kidnapped by drug dealers?”
Nate shakes his head. “That wasn’t my plan, but I can’t stop it.”
“The hell you can’t!”
Nate presses the bottle to Will’s lips. “You need to calm down, baby.”
He knows he should play along, but his frustration and fear are mightier than logic. “Help! Help!”
Nate chuckles and pours vodka over Will’s head.
Some reach his eyes, burning like flames.
“You know damn well there isn’t anyone who’s gonna hear you out here, so shut up.
I brought music to make this party more interesting.
” He grabs Will’s chin and leans into his face.
“You’re going to sing for me like you sang to Owen. ”
“How do you know about that?”
Nate chuckles. “You can’t hide anything from me, baby. I keep tabs on what’s mine.”
“You’re sick.” There’s no fire in Will’s words, just despair. He won’t get through to this troubled man.
“Thanks for stating the obvious,” Nate says and licks the vodka from Will’s cheek. “Neither of us can change who we are.”
“You can choose not to let a good man suffer.”
“I gave that good man enough chances to back off. There comes a point where you just need to stand back and let shit happen.” He strokes Will’s chest. “I missed having you tied up.”
“Nate, if something happens to him—”
“We both know that something will. He’s been nothing but trouble for both of us, and you have bigger problems than what happens to him.” Nate whispers, “The mayor won’t let you leave this town. Did you know he hates you that much?”
Will tries to make sense of this change in conversation. His arms hurt worse than his head by now, like needles poking at his flesh. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Nate smiles. “He’s going to give you to Hal Darnell.”
Will opens his mouth, then closes it. He can barely breathe.
“I can help you,” Nate says, still stroking Will’s chest. “I don’t want anyone taking you away from me.
He’s supposed to keep you on some farm, doing God-knows-what.
Let’s get Owen out of the picture, then you and I can work on protecting you.
You see, I know things about the mayor. I can make him leave you alone, but I need you to give me a good enough reason to do that. ”
“I don’t care about the mayor. We have to help Owen. Please.”
“You sound pathetic. If you’re not going to say anything productive, at least sing for me.”
“Ain’t no fucking way that—”
Nate leans down with his knee on Will’s crotch, triggering blinding pain. Will screams into the night, but Nate doesn’t ease up.
“You’re going to sing for me now, or I’ll stay like this until you pass out. I’ll even add in a little bonus to make you feel better. You can look at it as a sign of my willingness to reestablish our relationship.”
“Get off!”
“Say yes, or you’re going to be two balls short.”
“Yes!”
Nate raises his knee, and despite the relief, the pain still pulses in Will’s crotch. He feels the alcohol playing with his head, dulling his senses. He’s losing this fight and wasting so much precious time.
“You’re ready for a little confession, Will? Something that will make you feel so much better about your sins? I wanted to give you this gift for a long time.”
Will breathes heavily. “What is it?”
“It’s about Joel.”
He meets Nate’s eyes. “What about him?”
“He didn’t kill himself because of you.”
The words don’t make sense. “What are you talking about?”
Nate runs a hand through his hair and clears his throat.
“I was getting tired of you and him being a couple. He was out of his mind, and it felt like such a waste for you to be with him and not with me. I asked him to share you, but he told me to fuck off.” Nate takes a breath, his eyes like two dark holes.
“On the day he killed himself at your place, I told him that you and I were having an affair and were planning on leaving town together.”
The pain across his body turns into cold numbness. “You told him that?”
“I didn’t think he’d kill himself! I just wanted him to give you up. He was such a shitty friend toward the end; I was fine with him not talking to me anymore.”
Even though he’s sitting on the hard ground, he’s falling into an endless pit. The years of guilt he’s been carrying were based on the certainty that he was the reason for Joel’s suicide. He can’t help but sob.
Nate strokes his head. “See? I told you you’d feel better about your sins. Let it out, baby. Let it all out. Now, time for you to sing for—”
A loud explosion cuts through the night. The boombox shatters, pieces flying around. Will sharply turns to look, not understanding what the hell is happening. He sees two figures approaching through the dark trees until their faces become visible in the pale light of the lamp.
Nate jumps to his feet. “Sheriff, listen—”
“Shut up, Nate. I’ve heard enough.”
The gun in the sheriff’s hand is not aimed at Will, but the rage in his eyes still terrifies him. Sheryl stands behind him. She’s not holding a gun, but she looks just as terrifying.
“I was lying!” Nate shouts. “I’m just messing with his head!”
“You weren’t.” The sheriff glances at Will, and for the first time in years, the hatred in his eyes is replaced by remorse. “Untie him. We’re going to go get Owen, then you and I will have a long talk.”
“But—”
“Now!” Sheryl shouts. “Before I fucking break your neck!”
As his hands are being untied, Will should feel relief, but he can’t stop the tears from falling.