Chapter 29
ARCHIE
The road trip with my dad isn’t as bad as I thought it would be. It is, in fact, worse, especially because we’ve now been gone two days longer than we originally planned in spite of being only a few hours from town.
It doesn’t help that I hate being cooped up in the car with my father, driving farther and farther away from Denver. Objectively, I know he’s safe, but still. The distance is not making my heart grow fonder.
It’s making me feel desperate.
I can’t help but flap my hands slightly, stimming to keep me from falling over the edge.
My dad wouldn’t like me having a meltdown. I can tell the hand flapping is making him uncomfortable from the way he keeps peering over at me, and I brace myself for him to tell me to stop. For it to be like every other time when I was a child.
“Archie.”
I stop flapping and start rolling the hem of my shirt between my fingers. It’s a compromise.
“I’m sorry.”
My whole body stills, and I peer over at him. I’m not used to hearing those words come from his lips. Blinking, I try to come up with words, but this close to a meltdown, I can’t.
“It shouldn’t have taken me this long to figure out what you need. You don’t have to stop doing that. I know this is hard for you.”
I swallow thickly, then raise a shaky hand. ‘Why?’ I’m hoping that one single sign conveys what I’m trying to ask. Why now? Why bother?
What changed?
He lets out a heavy breath. “Nico’s spent a lot of time with me recently. You know how he is. He’s never hesitated to call me out when I’m being shit. But after you boys left, he warned me that if I didn’t get my head out of my ass, I was going to lose you. And after losing your mom…”
He’s silent, and I can’t figure out what he’s trying to say. After losing her what? We’re the last pieces he has left of her? It’s a nice sentiment, but it still doesn’t mean he gives a shit about us. Only what we represent.
“I couldn’t live with the grief of losing you three too.
Your mom and I agreed we’d never bring kids into this life.
But the day she took that test and found out she was pregnant with Percy, we knew we were going to be selfish.
So all we could do was hope that you three would end up finding out who you were outside of all this. ”
“I am who I am,” I rasp.
His lips quirk up. “I know. You were the first one to figure that out. Percy was the second. I think Milo’s still working on himself.”
Maybe, but in reality, I think Milo was just born to be the man he is. He loves differently, like we all do. And maybe some of it was from the way we were raised and how we were trained. But part of it is just being our father’s sons.
“I think what I’m trying to say is that I understand better now. So do whatever you need to do to help you get through this. I know being away from Denver is hard, and I also know that you love him. And because of that, I will do everything in my power to protect him.”
That settles me a little, and I’m able to stay calm as we grow closer to the apartment. I can see the distance shrinking on the GPS on my dad’s car screen. I count down the minutes, excited to have a moment to breathe.
By the time he finally pulls into a parking lot and shuts off the car, I swing the door open and step out, bobbing on my tiptoes to try to work the anxiety from my system.
My dad doesn’t rush me along, just steps out and assesses the situation.
I’m doing that too. My eyes are roving, my mind whirling.
When my dad finally tells me the apartment number, my stimming stops, and I follow behind him, through the worn pavement and up some rickety steps.
This is the third address we’ve gotten from Matias.
The first two were duds, and it took him almost twenty-four hours to track Byron’s credit card.
I know that my brothers have the other guy in the shed at home now, but my dad isn’t convinced that Byron isn’t behind this.
And I feel the same.
Glancing around as we reach the landing, I grimace. This apartment complex has seen better days, the paint chipping, the roof slightly caved in. We make it to the front door when my dad turns to look at me, and something shifts inside of me. A moment of realization.
He didn’t need to help with this. He could have let me deal with this alone, but he didn’t. He’s here with me. Helping. Assisting. Putting his life at risk because I love someone.
Because I want them to be safe.
I offer him a small nod, and he twists the front doorknob. It’s locked, and a moment later, he reaches into his suit pocket and pulls out his lock-picking case. It doesn’t take him long to jimmy it open, the dead bolt snicking softly.
The door swings open with a squeak, and my dad pulls out his gun, positioning it like the professional he is, and I follow behind, armed with my knives and ready to pounce.
My dad flicks his flashlight on as we clear the rooms one by one, but the place seems empty. The apartment is small, with very minimal furniture and a significant mess. Whoever lives here is a slob.
We don’t find much at first. There are piles of trash, dead plants, and a heap of dirty laundry. But then, as my dad is going through some of the mail on the table, something flutters to the ground. A photo, curled at the edges, two men smiling in the frame.
They look familiar.
I turn to tell my dad when he steps up to me, a phone I don’t recognize in his hand. The picture is forgotten for a moment as he opens it and flicks through the messages.
“I found some bills to confirm this is Byron’s home, but it looks like he hasn’t been here in a while.” He flicks the phone toward me so I can see the screen.
“How did you get into that?”
He shrugs. “It didn’t have a password.”
My eyes widen. That is peculiar. Why wouldn’t someone have a passcode on their phone? It would make sense only if they were sure they wouldn’t get caught.
My dad pulls open a few messages, but all are benign, leading us to nothing. And then I see something that looks like it could have information. It’s a text thread under the name Lewis. I reach out and touch his arm, stopping him.
“There. That one.”
My dad clicks on the name, and a moment later, our eyes scan the messages between the old stalker and Lewis. Most of it is normal couple talk. What they want for dinner, where they’re planning on going for the weekend. But then I see the letter D pop up and then the name of the club.
And then the date—the night Denver was attacked.
The longer the messages go on, the more Lewis seems unhinged. He devolves into all-caps rants, cussing and describing all the horrible things he wants to do to Denver. Byron clearly agrees with him, but there’s something about the way Lewis types that tells me he’s the one behind this.
They’re both to blame, but at least there’s a genesis for the reason Byron came back to town.
“Byron and Lewis are together,” I murmur aloud. My hands shake slightly as I pull out the photo I found and point to the man on the right, the one with the straight brown hair. “This is the one I stabbed.”
“Byron. I recognize his photo from the file Thorne gave me.”
I nod and let my finger slide to the man with lighter hair and brighter eyes. “This must be Lewis.”
“Yes.”
“Shit.” My finger scrolls a little more, my heart thundering in my chest when I realize what this means.
My brothers have one of them in the shed.
But only one of them. Which means Byron is still somewhere in town.
Of course he’s not a threat to Denver when he’s with my brothers, but the thought still terrifies me that any of them may have dropped their guard.
I let the photograph flutter to the floor as I pull out my phone and jab Denver’s contact, trying to open a FaceTime, but he doesn’t answer.
“Call Percy,” I demand as I pull up Milo’s contact. My dad nods as I smash the phone to the side of my head, pacing as it rings and rings and rings.
And there’s no answer.
Luckily, Percy picks up, and my dad puts it on speaker, holding the phone right next to me.
“Where is Denver?” I snap, and Percy pauses, his breath coming out in a long, slow drag.
“He and Nico went out for the afternoon. Why—”
“Fuck!” I scream, snatching the phone from my dad’s hands.
“Jesus Christ, relax,” Percy bites out. “We have the fucker in the shed right now. It’s not like he’s going to—”
“There are two,” I bite out. “It’s not just him.”
There’s a heavy silence, and then Percy whispers, “Oh fuck. Denver and Nico went to a drag brunch, I think. They’re supposed to be back soon though.”
Drag brunch. Okay. Maybe that’s why he’s not answering. If he’s in the middle of the show, he’s probably not looking at his phone, but I don’t feel soothed by that at all.
“I need you and Milo to go down there and collect them,” I say, marching outside. My dad’s on my heels after grabbing most of what we need to track Byron down, and my entire body is shaking when I get behind the wheel.
My dad makes a noise of protest, but I refuse to budge. I need to drive. I need something to focus on so I don’t lose it completely. He passes me the keys, and I put the phone in the holder as I start the engine and prepare to make the four-hour drive back to town in three.
“We’re on our way now,” Percy tells me, breathless. I can hear him starting his truck.
I take a single fortifying breath. “I need you to find him, Perce. Alive. Unharmed. You shouldn’t have let him go.”
“Fuck, I know. I’m sorry.” He’s silent for a beat, and then he says, “He’s going to be okay. He’s brave, Arch. And smart. And he’s with Nico.”
That does nothing to soothe the raging hurricane in my chest, but there’s nothing I can do about it until we get home, so I hang up the call and fix my eyes on the road ahead. If I get there and something’s happened to the two people I love most in the world, I will burn the entire planet down.