Chapter 24 #2
The masking I do on a daily basis—which isn’t much, to be honest—starts coming undone.
I find myself stimming slightly, and the doily that’s on the table feels terrific under my fingers.
I brushed against it when I asked Leaf for another glass and decided not to let go of it. I think I’ll take this home with me.
“You can keep it. It’s from my serial killer aunt,” Leaf says and signs when he notices me dragging it closer and closer.
‘Thanks,’ is all I sign and then cock my head, taking another gulp of wine. ‘I like serial killers.’ I don’t know how to sign that, so I just sign kill over and over, the doily flapping in my fingers until Nico reaches over and settles a hand on top of mine.
I move to apologize, but Denver shakes his head. ‘No. You’re being yourself. Don’t apologize.’
My heart leaps in my chest, and I find my obsession with him growing.
Some people might say what I’m feeling for Denver is unhealthy, but I think it’s love.
I’m not quite sure exactly what that feels like, but whenever I look at Denver, I want to tuck myself inside of his chest so he never lets me go.
I’m pretty sure that means something important.
I rub the doily between my fingers as Denver wraps up telling him about what happened up to the club tonight.
I have the urge to mention the stalker was in the parking lot, but I manage to keep that to myself.
In spite of Denver reliving all the worst moments, he still seems relaxed, and I don’t want to ruin that for him.
With any luck, my father will be able to give us a good lead, and we can take care of this problem before it gets any worse.
‘I kind of wish my aunt was still alive so she could bury that monster in the backyard,’ Leaf signs sloppily, his hands loose with alcohol.
Denver bobs his head, like this is a good idea. But it is not. If that stalker is going anywhere, it’s in our backyard. Charred and burned, cut to pieces, shoved in a hole where I can keep an eye on him as he rots in his afterlife.
‘Where did your aunt bury the people?’ I ask.
Leaf’s eyebrows rise. ‘Want to see?’
‘Yes. I enjoy burial grounds.’
‘This entire property was one,’ Leaf says, standing up and wobbling slightly, the alcohol clearly hitting him. ‘Come on. I’ll give you a tour.’
‘No, not right now,’ Thorne says, pushing Leaf back down. ‘You’re too drunk to be stumbling around outside.’
Leaf gasps in disbelief. ‘I am not drunk. I am perfectly sober.’ He hits his nose as he says that and signs before plopping down in his chair. ‘Okay, fine. That wine is strong-strong.’
Thorne pats his shoulder and then explains, ‘It is, and the lighting isn’t set up out there yet. There are these big holes that Michael has dug all over that we haven’t filled. I don’t want any of you falling into them. Last week, Leaf sprained his ankle tripping on one.’
‘I did. I almost murdered Michael, but then I’d go to prison, and I wouldn’t do well there,’ Leaf says, and Denver laughs again.
‘Same, but I don’t think you’d go to prison for murdering a rodent.’
Leaf gasps again, his hand on his heart. ‘He is not a rodent. He’s a…’ His fingers wiggle, and he adds, ‘…a pest.’
He goes on a longer rant, but I look away, glancing over at Nico, who is on his phone, his fingers flying over the screen. His brows are furrowed, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth. Something is clearly upsetting him. He was a little sensitive at the club earlier too.
‘Wrong?’ I ask when I get his attention. I see that he’s on some social media site, and I recognize the face of Fayid on his screen.
It seems he’s cultivating an obsession with the Egyptian art professor.
Nico always was bullheaded when it came to feeling slighted or unjustly categorized.
He’s able to brush it off in the moment with a smile and a laugh, but it eats at him.
I’ve seen the way he furiously obsesses over it until he’s built an airtight case.
And it’s never to present to anyone. It’s always just to have.
To know that in the end, he was right.
‘Nothing,’ he says as he hides his phone on his lap and leans forward, meeting Leaf’s stare.
‘Did someone piss you off?’ Leaf demands.
Nico shrugs. ‘Guy at the club being judgmental about what I do.’ He doesn’t go into detail, but Leaf doesn’t seem to care. He leans forward, knocking his empty glass over, and Thorne picks it up gently and moves it away.
‘Tell me everything about this man,’ Leaf demands.
‘I bet he’s ugly and awful. I hate him. I hope he burns!
Let’s set him on fire. Where’s the TNT? Oh, I gave it to you.
’ He points to me and then waves his hands around, trying to come up with another solution.
‘Oh, even better, I have poison. We can murder him.’
Thorne sighs loudly, and Denver laughs, far too drunk to take his friend seriously.
The moment is strangely domestic in ways I never expected to have. For so long, Nico was my only friend. And moments like this were between my brothers when I was sitting at the edge of the conversation, acknowledged but rarely participating.
Now I feel like I’m part of something. Thorne smiles and nods when I sign, Leaf throwing in his two cents.
Nico’s made himself comfortable like he’s known the pair of farmers for all of his life, and Denver is resting quietly against my side, his fingers tangled with mine every time he doesn’t need them to speak.
It’s in this moment I realize that I will protect this peace with everything I have.
And I don’t care who has to die for that to happen.