Chapter 37
Chapter
Thirty-Seven
"Come on, Charlie. Just twenty push-ups. It's good for stress."
Charlie looked up from his phone. He'd been trying to distract himself by scrolling reels. Brent was in the middle of the room, shirtless and glistening, halfway through what he'd called his "prison workout routine."
"I'm not stressed," Charlie lied.
"Bullshit." Brent dropped into another push-up. "We're all stressed."
Brent had a point there.
Two days holed up in a roadside motel did things to a person. Or vampire. Whatever.
"Your elbows are flaring," Simon said from the bed, not looking up from the book Viktor had grabbed from a gas station, some thriller about a detective who didn't know his partner was the killer. "You'll hurt your shoulders."
Brent paused mid-push-up. "Really?"
"Tuck them in. Forty-five-degree angle from your torso."
Brent adjusted his form and continued, his movements more controlled now. "Better?"
Simon glanced over. "Much."
"You know about fitness?" Brent sounded delighted, like a kid finding out his teacher played video games.
"I know about not getting injured." Simon turned a page. "The Organization was big on functional strength training."
"That's so cool. What kind of programs did they have you on?"
Charlie watched them, something warm unfurling in his chest. His best friend and his... whatever Simon was to him now. Boyfriend seemed insufficient for someone who'd literally turned into a vampire to save him.
"Mostly combat conditioning," Simon said. "Endurance work. Flexibility training."
"Flexibility?" Brent's eyes lit up. "Dude, we should totally do yoga together. I've been trying to get Charlie to join me for years, but he just won't do it."
Fortunately, Charlie was spared from responding to that when the door opened and Viktor entered, bringing the smell of rain and exhaust fumes.
"Anything?" Simon asked, setting his book aside.
Viktor shook his head. "Town's quiet." He pulled off his wet jacket. "No Organization presence that I can detect."
"Maybe they gave up," Charlie suggested hopefully.
Three sets of eyes turned to him with identical expressions of 'you can't be serious.'
"Right. Stupid thought."
A knock at the door made everyone freeze.
Had someone followed Viktor?
Simon's hand went to the knife on his belt.
"It's me," a familiar voice called. "Noah. Your friendly librarian."
Simon's grip on the knife didn't loosen. "How did you find us?"
"The same way I always find what I'm looking for." A pause. "May I come in?"
Simon looked to Charlie, who nodded. Whatever Noah was, he'd helped them escape. That counted for something.
The door opened to reveal Noah, wearing a maroon sweater and a bowtie with rubber duckies on it. He carried himself with casual confidence, as if walking into a room full of weapons and paranoid fugitives was perfectly normal.
"You look well," Noah said to Simon. "The transformation suits you."
Simon's jaw tightened. "What do you want?"
"To deliver news. The Organization is imploding."
Brent sat up from his prone position on the floor. "What?"
"Reuben operated with significant autonomy.
His superiors were unaware of the full extent of his.
.. projects." Noah's expression remained pleasant, but something sharp glinted in his eyes.
"Human experimentation on children, deals with vampire elders, creating an army of enhanced soldiers… None of this was sanctioned."
"Bullshit," Simon said. "The Organization runs on intelligence. They knew."
"The broad strokes, perhaps. But the details? The systematic trauma, the orchestrated murders?" Noah shook his head. "The higher-ups are scrambling to contain the damage. The local chapter is being shut down."
Charlie felt a flicker of hope. "So it's over?"
"This particular threat, yes." Noah's gaze found Charlie. His expression softened. "You did good."
"I didn't do anything," Charlie said. "I just got caught in the middle of all this."
Noah studied him, head tilted. "You did exactly what I needed you to do."
Before Charlie could say anything else, Brent got to his feet. "So what happens now?"
"That depends on all of you." Noah looked at each of them in turn. "The Organization's local operations are in disarray, but that doesn't mean you're entirely safe. There will be... loose ends."
Simon crossed his arms. "Operatives who were loyal to Reuben."
"Precisely. And some may hold grudges."
Viktor moved away from the wall he'd been leaning against. "They'll come after us."
"Perhaps. But not with the full resources of the Organization behind them." Noah straightened his bowtie. "I suggest staying vigilant."
Charlie leaned forward. "Why are you helping us?"
Noah's smile never reached his eyes. "Let's just say I have my own reasons for wanting to see certain parts of the Organization dismantled. Our interests align."
Simon's posture remained tense. "And what do you want in return?"
Noah shrugged. "For you to be happy?"
Simon's gaze narrowed. "I'm not buying that."
Noah smiled at him. "Of course you're not." He headed for the door. "You've all been through quite an ordeal. Perhaps it's time to go home and rest. Maybe read a good book." He waved them goodbye and left.
"I don't trust him," Simon said immediately.
Viktor nodded. "Agreed. But if what he says is true..."
"We might actually be able to breathe," Brent finished. He flopped onto one of the beds. "God, I miss my apartment. This place doesn't even have a pull-up bar."
Charlie sat heavily on the edge of the other bed. Home. The concept felt foreign after everything that had happened. Could he really just go back to his life? Clock in at the convenience store? Worry about his overdue electric bill?
"We should verify what he said," Simon moved to the window, peering out through the curtains. "Before making any decisions."
Viktor nodded. "I have contacts who might know something. I'll make some calls."
Three hours and several cryptic phone conversations later, Viktor confirmed Noah's information. The Organization's local operation was indeed being dismantled. Higher-level agents had been recalled, and the office building was being scrubbed clean.
"So we're free?" Brent asked, bouncing on his toes.
"Not entirely," Viktor cautioned. "But the immediate threat level has gone pretty low."
Charlie looked at Simon, who remained tense, vigilant. "What do you think?"
Simon's eyes met his. "I think we should be cautious. But..." He exhaled slowly. "Yes. Maybe it's time to go home."
The decision made, they packed up their meager belongings and vacated the building.
In the parking lot, Brent hugged Charlie fiercely. "Call me the second you get settled, okay? And if anything feels off you come straight to my place. I'll totally believe you this time, bro."
"Thank you," Charlie said. "I'll tell you."
Viktor volunteered to drive Charlie and Simon to Charlie's apartment building.
They passed the drive in silence. Charlie watched the familiar streets slide past, feeling disconnected from them, as if he were watching a movie of his old life rather than returning to it.
Viktor parked across from Charlie's building. "Want me to wait?"
"No need," Simon said. "We may be a while. We'll find our own way from here."
"Call if you need anything," Viktor said, and then he was gone, the car disappearing around the corner.
Simon surveyed the building. "I'll check the perimeter first."
"Is that really necessary?" Charlie asked, then caught himself. "Sorry. Of course it is."
The ghost of a smile crossed Simon's face. "Just to be sure. I'm not risking your safety after everything."
Ten minutes later, Simon returned and gave Charlie the all-clear. Together, they climbed the three flights of stairs to Charlie's apartment.
There, Charlie fumbled with his keys. Somehow, he could not get his hands steady.
Why was he nervous?
When he finally pushed the door open, the apartment beyond looked exactly as he'd left it: dusty dishes by the sink, a half-empty mug of coffee on the counter, bills scattered across the table.
Like a moment frozen in time.
Simon stepped inside after him, scanning the small space with his gaze as if he was still looking for threats.
"It's so strange," Charlie said, moving to the window to look out at the city lights. "Nothing here has changed, but everything feels different."
"You've changed," Simon said simply.
Charlie nodded. "Yeah, I guess I have."
He moved to the stack of mail that had accumulated beneath his door slot. Bills, advertisements, more bills... and an official notice from his landlord. Charlie opened it, already knowing what it would say.
EVICTION NOTICE. PAST DUE: THIRTY DAYS.
"Great." He tossed the paper onto the counter. "I can add homelessness to my list of problems."
Simon picked up the notice, scanning it. "How long have you been struggling with rent?"
"Longer than I care to admit." Charlie sank onto his worn couch. "The convenience store gig barely covers food and utilities. I've been playing catch-up for months."
"And now?"
Charlie threw his hands up. "I don't know. I've missed work for no reason. I'm probably fired. I'll be evicted. And oh yeah, I'm apparently on the radar of supernatural creatures and secret organizations."
Simon sat beside him, the couch dipping under his weight. His presence felt solid, anchoring.
"I can't go back," Charlie said, the realization settling deep in his bones. "Not to this life. Not after everything that's happened."
"No," Simon agreed. "You can't."
They sat in silence for a long moment.
"Pack what matters to you," Simon finally said. "You're not staying here."
"Where am I supposed to go?" Charlie asked.
"Well, we can't go to my place," Simon said. "The Organization provided it." He pulled out a wallet, checking its contents. "But I never spent much of the money I was paid, so I have resources. It should be enough to keep us comfortable until we figure out our next steps."
Our next steps.
Simon really thought of them as a unit now, didn't he?
"Okay," Charlie said, fighting a smile that seemed out of place. "Let me grab some things."
He moved through the apartment, collecting clothes, his laptop, the photo of his parents from the shelf. Small mementos that marked his existence: a concert ticket stub, a smooth stone from the beach trip with Brent last summer, a dog-eared copy of his favorite book.
When he was done, everything that truly mattered to him fit into a large backpack.
Charlie took one final look around the apartment, almost ready to leave when Simon spoke up.
"Hold up," he said. "Aren’t you forgetting someone?"
Charlie blinked, confused. "Who?"
Simon pointed toward his kitchenette. "Marvin."
Charlie scratched the back of his neck. "He's just a succulent."
"A succulent you cared enough to name." Simon lightly touched his shoulder. "Go get your plant."
Charlie didn't need any more encouragement than that. He rushed to grab Marvin, muttering apologies under his breath for nearly leaving him behind.
Simon shot him a fond look when he returned plant in hand. "Guess that's everything."
"Yup."
In the hallway, Charlie locked the door for the last time and dropped the key through the landlord's mail slot on the way out.
He had everything he needed.