Chapter 20
Torren
I white-knuckle my bike as I speed back to the shop after that monstrosity of a speech. The October breeze does nothing to cool the flames radiating off my face.
The shop comes into view, the garage door already open. It’s well after opening, and Gabriel’s legs peek out from under a red Toyota. My wheels skid on the concrete slab, sending Gabriel sliding out and sitting up.
He cocks his head to the side, surveying my movements. The kid can read me like a book, and, from the way I’m throwing my helmet, tearing off my gloves, and whipping off my jacket, I’m sure he can see that I’m mad as hell.
“Busy today?” I ask as I stride toward the kitchenette. He shrugs and wiggles his flat hand, making a “so-so” gesture. “Can you handle things for a while?”
He shoots me a thumbs up, the wariness in his eyes never dissipating as he lies flat on the creeper and slides back under the red Toyota.
Once I’m in the kitchenette, I turn on the cold water and splash my face. My goal for the day was to make sure Felix is okay.
He’s not.
Not by a long shot.
And it’s all my fault.
All I know is that seeing the flat, sad look in his eyes, followed by his father using him for a photo op, nearly made me homicidal.
Again.
That’s not him. Felix always had life in his eyes. Even on the day when I pushed him away, he was crushed, but there was still a glint in his eyes that left me feeling good that he’d recover.
But that’s not what I saw today. I saw a man who looked lost. His eyes trailed over the bodies of people before him without really seeing them, like he was in a daze.
I pinch the bridge of my nose while filling a cup of water and chug it in one gulp.
You’re being an idiot, Torren.
Who the fuck do I think I am? I have no right to worry about his well-being when I’m the one who probably caused it.
He’s better off without me.
My stride is heavy as I walk to the little table and take a seat. The Belmont Gazette sits on the table in its light green bag. Gabriel usually brings it in when he arrives, and I typically ignore it, but I don’t today.
I need a distraction.
The paper slides out of the bag, revealing Mayor Hargrove plastered on the front cover.
I want to tear up the picture, but I notice Felix’s name in the subheading and read he’s interviewed in the story as well.
I flip through the pages and nearly choke when I see a recent picture of Felix standing next to his father.
He’s smiling in the picture, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. In fact, it looks haunting. He’s not just sad; something else is happening to him.
I flip the page to find his interview and see another picture of him with his mother. He’s younger in it, and the two of them are basking in the warm glow of the sun, surrounded by flowers.
She’s beautiful.
The two of them have so much life in their eyes. They glow under the sunlight, a vision of beauty and love.
I force myself to read Felix’s part of the interview to learn more.
Most of it is Belmont-specific, but the journalist does ask about Belinda Hargrove, and the shift in Felix’s tone is noticeable.
It becomes lighter, wistful. He speaks about her with such warmth—far more generous than his father.
He talks about the good things, the moments she was there for him.
He’s adamant in this interview that she was a wonderful mom.
Soon, he’s asked about his dad, and the answers are short. A few sentences max. I can feel his emotional shift just from the words on the page.
I flip back to the previous picture of him and his father and gaze into those sad eyes.
Then I flip to the picture of him with his mom and see true happiness. Then, once more to the picture with his father.
The paper is too grainy, so I pull out my phone and find the same article. I zoom in on the picture, and my breath hitches.
Something’s wrong.
Not just sad-wrong.
His pupils—they’re blown wide. I can barely see the green anymore. The whites of his eyes are pink, and they look dry. Very dry.
Something’s off.
Nothing about this looks like Felix.
Is he on meds?
I think back to the way he looked during the press conference.
He twitched every so often, which I’ve never seen him do before.
He tried to hide it, but Felix was definitely scratching all over his body.
His hair and forehead looked soaking wet with sweat, and the flashing cameras looked like they caused physical pain.
At one point, some rando shouted something, and Felix shook with fear, like a gunshot had gone off or something.
My fists grip the newspaper so hard they begin shaking, so I toss it to the ground.
No. Not this.
Something’s wrong with Felix, and I’m not letting it happen.
I pull my phone from my pocket as I stomp up the spiral stairs and dial the man who has all the information I need.
“Boss man!” Lars’s Swedish accent has a way of soothing my racing mind, but I’m all business right now.
“Lars, my man. I need information. Mayor Hargrove. I want a list of all his upcoming campaign events. Preferably ones with extra staff: think catering or media. Anything where you’d need permission to get in, but you’d be just another nameless face among many.
Not close-knit soirees filled with familiars. I need to blend in.”
Lars started his career as an information broker for a German crime syndicate. Tobias met him at a sex club in Berlin and convinced him to be the digital bloodhound for the Hellcats.
“Ya, got it.” I can already hear his furious typing as we speak. “I can have a list ready for you in two hours. Tobias didn’t tell me about this. Sticky fingers or just sleuthing?”
“Just sleuthing for now. And Lars, if there’s any way to find out if the Mayor’s son will be at the events, either as a speaker or just on a guest list, I want to know.”
“Ya, got it. Talk soon.”
“Thanks, Lars.” I hang up the phone and toss it on the bed. Once I’m in the bathroom, I take a look at my scraggly face in the mirror.
A shave is definitely in order. Might break a comb through this mop on my head, too.
I’ll need to look professional, yet surreptitious.
I know I’m being a hypocrite—I pushed him away. It was me who hurt him, but I can’t just stand by when he looks that broken.
And, if my suspicions are correct, someone might be giving him meds that are way too powerful for him.
Or they know they’re too powerful, and that’s the point.
I pushed Felix away to keep him safe, but his current situation might be far more dangerous than I could have ever guessed. Felix needs to be safe and happy. Period.
I know I can’t have him, but I will protect him.
Felix
My body bolts upright in bed, my chest heaving from my gasping breaths. I instinctively reach for the water on my nightstand when I notice the song.
Say “nighty-night” and kiss me
Just hold me tight and tell me you’ll miss me
While I’m alone and blue as can be
Dream a little dream of me
I wait a beat, trying to determine if I’m really awake or not. The song plays on, and I leap out of bed and race to the door, throwing it open and running to the stairs.
It’s freezing. It’s her.
I can see my breath, the icy tendrils weaving out of my mouth as I grip the banister and run down the stairs. I enter the sitting room and see the flames blazing in the fireplace.
“Mother!”
I run to the large chair seated in front of the fireplace. “Mother, I’m so—”
The smell hits me first—sweet and rotten at the same time.
My body recoils, falling onto the floor, my screams filling the space as I look at the skeleton sitting on the chair. Blonde hair grips the skull, and it wears a white, silky nightgown. Just like the one we buried her in.
I crawl away, my heart pounding. When I look again, the fire is gone, and so is the skeleton.
You are dreaming, Felix. Go back to bed in your dream, and you will probably wake up.
My feet carry me across the room, the air growing colder by the moment.
Ice begins forming on the walls, the furniture, and the windows. It consumes the space, racing from the borders where the walls meet the floor and closing in on me.
I dart up the stairs, making a beeline for my bedroom. My hand reaches for the doorknob, and pain explodes up my arm, bright and blinding. Like, I actually burned it.
I look down, and my hand is red and bubbling.
The ice crawls up the stairs, and I take off down the corridor, racing to my father’s room. The knob isn’t burning, so I run into the room, slamming the door behind me.
I run to my father lying in his bed.
“Father. Father, there’s something wrong. I need—”
His body turns, revealing his face, and I’m met with pale skin and bloody eyes. “You’re weak, Felix. So weak. Just like her.”
I startle backward, falling on the floor with a thud.
“Felix.” My mother is under the bed, not her skeleton, but her. She’s frozen, icicles hanging from her blonde hair. I scream and crawl away as fast as I can, before slamming into the wall, and covering my eyes to cry.
“Don’t cry. I’m here.”
I look up and see her using her arms to army crawl across the floor. My father sits upright on the bed, pointing at her and laughing. Her hand reaches out and caresses my face. She’s cold. So cold.
“Don’t take them anymore,” she whispers.
“What?”
She shooshes me, her eyes turning toward the demented creature that my father has turned into. His laughter turns to coughing, and rose petals begin spewing from his mouth in colors of yellow, red, and coral.
“He’s listening,” my mother continues. “Don’t take them anymore.”
“Mommy…”
She sits on her knees and kisses my forehead, her cool lips sending chills down my back. “He’s coming. Don’t worry, my love.”
I can barely see her through the tears pouring out of my eyes. “Who?” I ask. “Father?”
“It’ll get worse before it gets better, but he’s coming. Trust me.”
I’m in my bed—body shaking and drenched with sweat. I can barely catch my breath. I sit up and try to calm down, focusing on the world around me. Is this real? Am I still dreaming?
The world is silent. There’s no song. I hear nothing.
My hand reaches for the glass of water beside me, but the drink does nothing to calm me down.
I need air.
I walk across the room to my window and slide it open, taking a deep breath of the cool, night air.
A motorcycle engine revs, and I open my eyes to see a man in a leather coat and helmet parked just before the gate of the mansion speed off down the road.
My chest tightens.
I know that bike.