Chapter 16 #2
I hated the conclusion before it had even finished forming.
Ben said softly, “You know where he has to go.”
Cove opened his eyes then, his gaze moving between us, scared and unfocused, but understanding enough to fear the silence.
“Where?” he whispered.
Neither of us answered.
“No,” he said again, quieter now. “No, what room?”
“Well, it’s… It’s a secure room,” Ben said gently, because Ben had always been better at making horrible things sound less horrible.
Cove started struggling again. “No. No, no, no—Tobias, don’t. Please.”
I adjusted my hold before he could twist too far, my jaw clenched so tightly it hurt. “It will only be until you calm down.”
That was not entirely true.
It was not entirely false either.
“I’m calm,” he said instantly, sobbing through the words. “I’m calm. I’m calm, okay? Look, I’m calm. Please.”
He was not calm. He was terrified enough to lie badly.
I turned toward the aquarium wing, every step feeling like a betrayal.
Cove trembled in my arms and whispered pleas into my shirt as we carried him into the place that was once his safe place. Cove noticed the direction we were heading and began shaking harder.
“Not there,” he begged. “P-please.”
I nearly stopped, feeling like I was going to be sick.
“We’re not going back there,” Ben said, looking back at me.
After another minute or two, we arrived at one of the locked doors that Cove had never been allowed to open. There were several in the house, practical spaces hidden behind seamless panels and matte-black security readers. Some had different purposes. This one…
Ben tapped his clearance to the panel, unlocking the heavy door and stepping inside the small windowless room.
It was not a cell, technically, though the distinction felt insulting the moment I thought it.
The floor was sealed concrete with a drain at the center.
The walls were smooth and unadorned. A narrow cot had been folded against one side, along with emergency blankets sealed in plastic.
The lighting was recessed behind reinforced covers, bright enough for visibility, but too cold for comfort.
I had never intended for Cove to see it.
Certainly not from my arms.
Certainly not like this.
Cove stopped pleading when he saw the room.
“Tobias,” Ben said quietly.
I did not move. I simply stood there with Cove bound and trembling against me, staring into a room I had once considered practical and now found obscene.
“Tobias, this is the safest place for him right now.”
I knew he was right, but that didn’t stop it from hurting.
The room seemed to swallow Cove the moment we crossed the threshold. I lowered him onto the cot myself, not the floor, ignoring the way he flinched when my hands shifted beneath him. Ben moved closer, ready to help, but I shot him a look to stop him.
I would do this part.
Cove lay on his side at first, wrists bound in front of him, ankles tied, his hair falling across his face. His eyes were open, but he would not look at me.
That was fair.
I crouched beside the cot. “Cove.”
Nothing.
“I’ll bring you some bedding from the linen closet. A pillow, too.”
Nothing.
“And some water. You’re probably thirsty after all that.”
Still nothing.
“We need to take the bindings off once the door is secured,” I said to Ben.
His brow lifted. “Not immediately.”
“He cannot remain tied like this.”
“He can for ten minutes while we make sure he doesn’t try to hurt himself.”
“He will not hurt himself.”
“You don’t know that.”
I looked back at Cove.
His breathing was too fast, his body too rigid. His hands were clenched together in front of him, where the rope held his wrists.
No.
I did not know that.
And that was another failure.
Another variable I had not controlled because I had been too occupied by the disaster of his fear to think clearly.
I reached toward him, jerking my hand back when he recoiled so fast that he nearly rolled off the cot.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, desperate for him to believe me.
And when Cove’s eyes finally looked up at me, there was no trust in them, only betrayal.
I stood before I could do something useless, like attempt to comfort him again.
“Stay with him on camera,” I told Ben.
“I will.”
I looked at him, finding Ben’s expression tired and pained.
There was nothing else to say.
Nothing that would help.
Nothing that Cove would believe.
So I stepped out of the room, though every instinct in me resisted leaving him there, and watched as Ben followed.
The door closed, and the lock engaged.
From inside came a heart-wrenching, broken noise, and whatever had remained intact in me after the cliff was fractured.
* * *
“You said you found it?” I asked.
“Yeah. Just past the ghost shark tank.” Ben’s voice was quiet, but there was a tremor beneath it that I registered as stress, not fear.
“I can’t believe a fucking cellphone… I mean, I get why he came back for it.
If I were in his position, I wouldn’t have thought twice about it.
It just fucking sucks. This all fucking sucks, Tobias. ”
I clenched my teeth. “I know.”
I turned the device on as Ben handed it over. The lock screen came up; it was a photo of a tide pool Cove had taken, something from before all this.
Notifications crowded the screen, mostly from nothing important.
However, the most recent was a text message from someone named Mrs. Alvaro.
I couldn’t see what the message said without unlocking the phone, but I needed to see if something had to be done in response to cover up for Cove’s sudden disappearance.
“It has facial recognition,” Ben said. “I figure that would be easier than trying to get the password outta him.”
I looked at him. “You want to bring him out to unlock it?”
“No. I want to bring the phone to him, just long enough to unlock it, then we can handle everything else ourselves.”
I considered this.
The risk of opening that door again. Of seeing Cove’s face. Of facing whatever new fear or hatred I would find there.
But Ben was right.
We needed access.
“Do it,” I said.
Ben returned to the secure room alone. Through the camera feed on my tablet, I watched him crouch before Cove, speaking softly, explaining nothing.
Cove’s face turned toward the device, eyes narrowed with suspicion, and the screen unlocked.
Ben was already out the door again by the time Cove realized what had happened.
And by the look of fury on his face, well—Ben made the right move by leaving.
Once Ben had returned to my office with the now unlocked phone, we got to work.
Did you get to your work safely? Let me know when you can. Also don’t forget to send the money for the rideshare when you get your phone back!
“Dammit,” Ben cursed from over my shoulder as he read the message.
“It’s fine. Send the money,” I told Ben, giving him the phone. “From his account. Then text her back.”
Ben’s fingers moved across the screen. “What do I say?”
“Something normal. Grateful. Tell her he arrived safely, and that he’s thankful for her help.”
Ben typed, then showed me the message before sending.
Got here safe! Thank you again for helping. Sending the money for the drive now. Since it’s late, I’ll be staying here tonight.
I nodded.
Ben sent it. Then he transferred the rideshare payment from Cove’s account to Mrs. Alvaro’s.
“The family,” Ben added, scrolling through Cove’s contacts. “He texts them every few weeks. Nothing urgent, just check-ins.”
“Continue the pattern,” I said. “Study his style. Keep it brief, keep it normal. If they ask questions, he’s busy, he’s traveling, he’s adapting to a new environment.”
Ben looked up at me. “And if they get suspicious? If they file a report?”
“Then we deal with it,” I said. “But they won’t. Young men disappear into their work all the time. Do they ever call each other?”
“Doesn’t look like it. That definitely helps. I’ll keep up the texting—should be easy.”
I took the phone back from him and turned it over in my hands.
The case was warm from Ben’s grip. I could feel the weight of Cove’s life in it. His photos, his messages, his connections to a world that wouldn’t—hopefully—realize he’d faded away.