Chapter 17
VOSS
I have a total of eight different buddy carriers for Axl.
I’ve tried them all, and I think this one is the best. I like the way it crosses over my back and the way the thick strap sits on my hips, taking the weight of Axl.
Not that he weighs a lot, but when you’re carrying that weight in front of you for an hour or more at a time, he can get heavy.
No, the irony isn’t lost on me. I don’t envy women carrying that weight on them for months at a time. It’s hard work. It’s tiring. And they get no breaks.
This has the benefit of Axl always feeling me moving around, so it’s kind of like I’m rocking him in a seat, but really, it’s just my natural movement. I can’t sit still.
I stop reading the article I have open when a headline pops up on another open browser that just refreshed.
Benjamin North disappeared from the coffee shop in Flagstaff two days ago. He stepped into a car and hasn’t been seen again.
Huh. I’m not sure what about the headline catches my attention, but I pull up the article to read it.
He’s twenty-eight, a gym enthusiast, and enjoys kayaking.
He works at the local youth shelter, is a loud advocate for human rights, and lives with two roommates in a house in the suburbs.
His roommates reported him missing yesterday, after having not answered his phone for over twenty-four hours.
Authorities are asking for any information to help locate North.
“Hmm,” I say out loud. The repetitive click-click-click of the metal rings in my hand as I absently rotate them is the only sound. I’m not sure what it is about this article that bothers me. Maybe it doesn’t bother me at all. Perhaps it’s just a little close to home, which intrigues me.
Is someone hunting near the Estate?
I set the rings down and type in a quick search. Local disappearances in the past six months.
A short list appears on the law enforcement website. Three people. All within the last six weeks. Before that, there wasn’t one that hadn’t been recovered, though one was recovered in a body bag.
Is this concerning? Is three people in six weeks a number we should be concerned with?
I change the parameters of the search to a year and find that over that year, five people had gone missing without showing back up.
Their missing persons cases are still open.
November 2021. February 2022. Nothing until two last month, and one two days ago.
Once more, I adjust the parameters to see about deaths in the past six months and find even more curious results. Over the past four months, there have been nine unexpected, unexplained deaths. All at the hospital.
Patients who have gone in for nothing concerning, like routine procedures, or were recovering well from routine surgeries, have suddenly died.
“Weird,” I murmur as I scan the police reports, determining whether I actually care enough about this to look into it myself. It’s close to home, which is the only reason I’m even remotely interested.
A knock on my door makes me look up. Dad stands there, looking dapper as usual.
“Hey.”
“What’re you working on?”
I shake my head. “Nothing. Weird headline caught my attention, and I dove down a rabbit hole.”
Dad crosses the room to stand beside me. “Hospital deaths?”
“I was looking at the random disappearance of a guy from Flagstaff. There’s been an uptick in disappearances this past six weeks, but even that uptick is only three.
Is that something to be concerned about?
Then the deaths in the hospital, nine in the last four months, were unexpected. There was no reason for them to die.”
“How are the two connected?” Dad asks.
I snort. “They’re not. At least, not that I can tell.
I was looking at the disappearance of this guy out of curiosity.
Then I looked up others in the area, wondering if someone was using our backyard for nefarious purposes.
Then I looked up deaths, just out of curiosity, and the fact that there’s been so many at the hospital ruled as unexpected had me curious.
That’s when you came in to check on me.”
He chuckles. “Are either of those worth looking into?”
I shrug. “Dunno. I’ve only been looking for ten minutes. I haven’t paid attention beyond that.”
“Okay. Keep me apprised.”
Does he actually want to be included, or is it just formality?
I study my father in my periphery for a minute as I consider this, knowing that he’s been taking steps back from several of our positions and only going through the motions of supervising.
He’s giving us the reins without calling attention to the fact that he’s doing so.
“Sure.”
“Your grandparents are here. They’d like to have dinner with everyone this evening.”
“Sure,” I repeat.
He chuckles. “You’re suspicious of their presence.”
“A little. They’ve never cared to be here over the past thirty-plus years, and now they suddenly want to come home?” I shake my head. “It’s strange being suspicious of family, but I don’t understand what they’re up to.”
“Neither do I,” Dad confesses.
I turn to look at him. “So you’re suspicious too?”
“A little,” he agrees. “I have this feeling that there’s something that one of us is doing—maybe VDT—that has caught their attention and they want a closer look.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
Dad raises his eyebrow. “Yes.”
“How much control of VDT do they have?”
“None. After they took off when Noaz was a toddler, I made sure they handed me power over the company and my brothers.”
“All of them?” I ask, surprised.
He inclines his head. “Yes.”
“I didn’t realize that.”
“You didn’t because I only brought Noaz home regularly. My other three brothers remained on the Estate with me.”
That means he spent more time with my uncles than he did with me and my brothers. Because he trusted we were loved and taken care of with Mom? That we had a loving home when his parents abandoned his brothers?
I wonder how many mommy and daddy issues he has.
“Dinner at six,” Dad says. He rests his hand on Axl’s back. “Bring Brek. The others will be there too.”
“Brek’s friends, you mean?”
“Yes, they’re part of the family now, married or not. They live here permanently, so I think it needs to be made clear that they belong here. This is their home too.”
Dad is really not happy about his parents moving home.
“They’re moving into their own house, right? Not the big house?”
“As far as I know. That’s where they are now, anyway.”
I nod, my attention moving back to my computer screen, though I’m not reading the words there.
I’m not sure how I feel about my grandparents coming home.
Weirdly, this is the first time I’ve ever felt hesitant to live with family.
This is the first time I’ve had the feeling of family being too close.
Curious.
“I don’t really want to go,” Brek says as we head down the hall. He has Axl’s travel bed in his hands. I told him he didn’t need to carry it, but he took it from me anyway.
“It’s not the kind of change that you need to worry about,” I assure him.
Brek looks at me with his eyelids hooded. “Thanks,” he deadpans.
I laugh. Wrapping my arm around his waist, I pull him close. “Relax. Not a big deal. Promise.”
“Yet, everyone is acting strangely. Including you. Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”
“Fair enough.” I kiss his lips. “Then I’m invoking the relationship expectations. You have to meet my family. Even when I don’t want to go.”
“Relationship expectations?” he repeats. “Really?”
“Oh yeah. I don’t want to do this either,” I admit. “That means we do it together.”
“Huh. This should have been disclosed earlier.”
I don’t comment again as we join my brothers in the dining room. My grandparents are already there, sitting primly at the head of the table where Dad usually sits. Immediately, my shoulders tense. They don’t belong there.
Noaz, Briar, and Emerson are seated beside Gran. Then Loren and Oakley. Myro and Jessica. On the opposite side are the triplets and Haze. Levis. Which leaves me, Brek, and Axl.
Brek sets up the chair, and I lower Axl into it. Once he’s buckled in, I tuck a blanket around him and pull Brek’s chair out for him. He gives me a demure look but takes the proffered seat. I incline my head to my grandparents before sitting as well.
Dad is at the opposite end of the table. It’s weird that he’s there.
“Now that we’re all present,” Granddad says, eyeing me. “There are half a dozen new faces.”
“Noaz’s husband, Briar, and their child, Emerson. Loren’s husband, Oakley. Myro’s girlfriend, Jessica. Imry’s boyfriend, Haze. Levis. And Voss’ boyfriend, Brek, and son, Axl,” Dad introduces.
Brek’s eyes widen slightly, and he glances at me. I don’t think he realized Dad knew about our relationship. Silly man.
Granddad frowns. “All my grandkids are gay except one?”
Loren narrows his eyes. Oh, great. Let’s set off the sociopath right out of the gate.
“No,” Myro says. “All of them are gay. Jessica is my beard.”
I lower my eyes so I don’t laugh. I’m not the only one.
“And you,” Granddad says, turning his attention to Noaz. The entire room stiffens. “Still dressing like a girl. Acting out for what reason?”
The room suddenly fills with a jaw-grinding air horn. Everyone jumps except Dad. Emerson screams and then cries. Axl cries.
I glare at Loren as I turn for my baby, and Uncle Noaz picks Emerson up from the highchair to hug him against their chest.
“Loren,” Dad says, frowning.
“You’ve known for thirty years that Uncle Noaz is non-binary, Weston. Get your shit together or leave,” Loren says, voice low and chilly.
Dad raises his head, and I don’t miss the small smile on his lips.
Our grandparents look at each other, both startled and disgusted by Loren’s behavior.
“Furthermore,” Imry says, getting to his feet, “if you have a problem with who I love, you can get bent.” He looks at Dad. “Excuse us.”
He hauls Haze to his feet and drags him from the room. The two/thirds don’t bother to say anything as they follow. I remain where I’m seated out of curiosity alone, but I hand Axl to Brek and encourage him to follow. He does without comment.
“Your children lack manners, Jalon,” Gran says.
“Actually, you lack human decency,” Myro says, crossing his arms.
“Myro,” Dad says.
“No, Myro is right,” Uncle Noaz says. “You’ve protected us our entire lives, Jalon.
You’ve picked up the pieces of a broken home when you shouldn’t have had to when our parents took off, shirking their responsibilities as parents, and now they’re here, criticizing you and talking down to the rest of us while thinking they have the right to feel righteous.
” They get to their feet, Emerson still in their arms. “On behalf of my brothers”—they look at Jalon—“all my brothers: fuck off. You’re not welcome in this home if that’s the negativity you’re bringing with you. ”
Gran’s mouth hangs open as she watches Uncle Noaz and their family leave the room.
Silence settles around the dining room. Only half the bodies are left at the table, and not out of respect. Dad won’t leave until he’s the last to do so. He will always be the last, making sure his kids aren’t left in a bad situation.
But this time, we’re not kids. And he’s not staying to take the brunt of whatever the fuck is going on here alone.
“Why are you here?” Myro asks.
“This is our home. We built it—”
“Dad built it,” Myro interrupts. “In fact, you didn’t build a damn thing on the Estate, nor did you with VDT. Try again.”
“Myro,” Dad repeats. “Please be respectful.”
“I will be when I’m shown that same respect. Otherwise, if they don’t want to be treated the way they’re treating my brothers, then perhaps they need to be taught some respect.”
Loren places a butcher knife across his plate. Levis stares at it. There’s no mistaking it for the obvious threat it is.
“Why are you here?” Myro demands.
Granddad and Gran look at each other. I’m sure they didn’t expect the hostility they’re receiving. “We want to be with our family,” Gran says. “Our new great-grandson and grandson.”
“You won’t have any access to my child,” I say. “I have no intention of allowing him around the toxicity that you’re filling this place with.”
“Voss is correct,” Dad says. “If this is the atmosphere you’re going to be bringing to the Estate, you’re not welcome here.”
“This is our home!” Gran demands.
“No, Mom. This is our home. I hold 100% power over this estate and all of Van Doren. You need to read the fine print of the contracts you signed because I specifically outlined the circumstances in which you won’t be allowed to reside here.
You’re currently in violation of three, namely, disrespecting Noaz, talking down to my sons by commenting on their sexuality—which is not your fucking business—and creating an unwelcoming environment for my family.
You have twenty-four hours to fashion an appropriate apology and get yourselves together, or I will remove you and you will no longer be allowed on Van Doren Estate. ”
Silence once again fills the dining room. My grandparents look absolutely shocked. This didn’t go how they thought it would.
“Boys. Jessica. Please excuse yourselves. I need to have a conversation with my parents,” Dad says.
Reluctantly, I get to my feet. Myro looks like he’s on the verge of arguing. Loren is the only one who gets up willingly. He takes his knife and hands it to Dad before leading Oakley from the room.
I follow my older brother from the dining room, but pause just outside the door. Levis didn’t follow immediately. I turn just as he reaches the threshold with a severe frown.
“Why was Loren carrying around a knife?” he asks, eyes on Myro.
“Because he’s crazy,” Myro mutters, glancing at the door we left.
“The real reason,” Levis insists.
“Come on, Lev,” Jessica says. “You and I both know that he’ll cut someone who hurts his family.
He had almost everyone he cares about in one place, all of whom were being verbally attacked.
What do you think?” She grips his arm and pulls him down the hall toward those who left first. They didn’t go far.
I look at my brother. Myro meets my eyes. “Why do you think they really returned?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “I wondered before, but now I really want to know.”
“Have the triplets looked at this contract that Dad mentioned?”
“If they haven’t, I’m sure they will when we ask them to.” He grips my elbow and leads me away. I don’t want to leave Dad in there with them, but I remind myself that he has a knife in his hands. Loren’s knife. His favorite weapon.