Chapter 30
ARCHIE
“Is it bad?” My voice is rough from tensing my throat so much on the drive home. I didn’t go directly to the shed. Instead, I hovered over my dad as he dressed both Denver’s and Nico’s wounds.
Now that the adrenaline has worn off, they’re both exhausted and half-conscious.
“I don’t think he has a concussion,” my dad says after easing Denver down onto the couch cushions. “But he should probably avoid any head injuries for the next little while.”
I want to laugh. I want to cry. I want to flip him off for being so fucking insensitive, but I don’t. Denver’s eyes are closed, and I don’t think he feels like paying attention to what we’re saying.
I glance over at Nico, who’s icing his mouth. ‘Okay?’
He nods just once, but I don’t know if I believe him. He hasn’t been through this kind of hell since the night I found him, though at least this time, he isn’t riding the fresh trauma of his family trying to beat and pray the gay away.
“Where are Percy and Milo?”
My dad eyes me, then says, “The shed.”
Byron won’t be alive for long, I know this. Whether I take care of him or someone else does, he won’t stay breathing. And I doubt anyone will miss him.
I went over the file that Thorne had given me. It didn’t have a lot of information apart from the details of the case. But I know people like Byron. Loners. No family. Obsessions they don’t know how to handle and a taste for blood from people who do not deserve to be cut.
Walking up to where Denver is gently snoring, I lift him into my arms. He makes a curious noise, but I quiet him with a kiss to the side of his forehead as I make my way toward the stairs.
I think he realizes where I’m taking him because halfway down, he relaxes against me, and his breathing evens out. When we get into the room, I stare at the coffin, but even I know that right now, it’s not the right place for him.
I set him in the bed, tucking the covers tightly around him, and he curls onto his side before reaching a hand toward me. It’s far too easy to fall to my knees and press his knuckles to my lips.
‘Tired,’ he signs with his free hand.
When I see one eye peering up at me, I tap my fingers to my temple. ‘I know. Sleep.’
He nods, and I hold him until he’s out again. When I let go, his hand flops to the mattress, and I take the stairs two at a time, turning left to exit the side door of the house instead of heading back for Nico.
I need time with my best friend to ensure he’ll be able to recover from all of this, and I want details about what happened without making Denver relive them right away.
But I have business to attend to first.
The walk to the shed feels like a hundred miles. I pass by my little garden and the stone steps that lead to the door. Just beyond, I can hear a wheezing sound, and I know I’m just in time.
The door opens with a loud creak, and the figure tied to the chair winces at the sudden light. It doesn’t last long. Percy’s standing in front of Byron with a small box cutter, blood on his hands, his face expressionless.
He’s made for this. More than I am. More than Milo is. He’s our father’s son to the core. He looks at me and gives a single nod before stepping into the shadows.
‘Did you tell him about his lover?’ I ask in sign.
Percy shakes his head.
‘Will you finish this when I go?’
His brows fly up. ‘You don’t want to?’
There’s enough blood on my hands, and while I don’t think Denver will hate me if I end this man here, I also don’t ever want him to be afraid of me. Once the danger is truly gone, I don’t want him to have any room to doubt that he will be safe with me.
That I will never, ever turn on him.
Percy must read something on my face because he nods and turns away as I walk up to the man who spent far too much time tormenting my beloved.
I look at his battered face, at the gash on his forehead from where Denver nearly took him out for good, and I can’t help but smile. He sucks in a wet breath as I slide my fingers into his hair and pull.
“Lewis is dead.”
He makes a soft noise.
“I would say it was revenge for what you’ve done to Denver, but we both know you didn’t love Lewis.”
His lips work, but they’re too swollen to make words I can understand. Not that I care. He doesn’t deserve to be understood in his last breaths.
“You would have killed Denver, wouldn’t you? In the end?”
His one functional eye looks up and meets mine. I see the truth there. He would have. It wasn’t love—it wasn’t obsession. It was a raging lust fueled by god only knows what.
He would have made Denver hurt in the end. He would have reveled in his pain.
I won’t give him any more satisfaction.
“It’s going to hurt,” I tell him as I let him go. “While he finishes you, it’s going to hurt.”
I nod to Percy, then swipe my hands on my jeans and head out the door, letting it slam loudly behind me as I cross the lawn and head back into the house.
I need a moment to catch my breath. This life is all I’ve ever known, but it’s always been hard. I am more my mother’s son than my father’s. I was good at doing what I was told, and learning routine, and separating myself from the moral concepts of right and wrong when I needed to.
But the weight on me was heavy, and the fact that we’re being set free means something.
Heading back into the living room, Nico’s on the couch, stretched out with his feet up on the arm, the ice pack lying beside him on the cushion. He looks bad, but not as bad as he could be.
“Is he dead?”
I shake my head as I walk over and sit on the coffee table. I offer him a hand, and he takes it, his soft thumb running over my rougher knuckles. “Percy has him.”
Nico chokes out a laugh. “So he will be.”
“Mm.”
Nico’s quiet for a long while, playing with my fingers with just enough pressure that the touch doesn’t hurt, and then he turns his head again to look at me. “You want to know what happened?”
“If you want to tell me. I can wait.”
He shrugs. “He wasn’t after me, obviously.
I was just in the way. A witness, I guess.
” Nico drops my hand and begins to knead his fingers on the cushion beneath him like a cat.
“He knocked Denver out—got him on the back of the head. I tried to fight him, but…” He stops, then swears under his breath.
“I’m so sorry, Archie.” His voice cracks.
“I fucking froze. I fucked up. I should have—”
“No.”
His jaw snaps shut.
I drop to my knees and grab his chin, forcing my eyes to meet his. It’s hard, but I don’t care. He needs this. “No,” I say again. “You didn’t fuck up.”
Nico licks his lips, his eyes a little wet. “After all this time, I should stop fucking freezing. I know how to defend myself.”
“You did nothing wrong.”
“I had to be rescued again,” he spits. “I could have saved him, and instead, I fucking crumpled, and Denver had to save me.”
“I would have come for you.” I brush a collection of hair off his forehead. It’s a little sticky with blood and sweat. “You know that, yes?”
“Yes.” He blinks his tears away without letting them fall. “Is Denver going to be okay?”
“Yes.” I put my hands on his arm and rest my chin on my knuckles. “He’ll be fine. I’m going to ask him to move in with me. I love him. I want to keep him forever.”
“He’ll say yes. He really, really fucking loves you too.”
My stomach swoops. “Did Byron say anything when he took you into the mausoleum?”
Nico frowns. “Is that his name? That’s so grossly fitting.
” He takes a breath, then shakes his head.
“He didn’t talk much. He did a lot of pacing and muttering to himself.
He got in Denver’s face a couple of times, screaming first. Then laughing.
Then he told him he was going to enjoy watching you find him there—that he knew what the cemetery meant to you.
And that you’d never be able to set foot in one again. ”
I feel a fresh wave of rage rush through me, but as much as I want to get up and go back to the shed, I know there’s no point.
I bow my head. “He was wrong.”
Nico takes my wrist and squeezes. “Yes, he was very wrong. I think he thought Denver couldn’t understand him. But I could see it on his face that he did. He hit him a few times, then he came and hit me a few times…”
I growl but stay in control.
Nico squeezes my hand harder. “Then I heard a noise. I tried to signal to Denver about it. The fucker got up and went to check on it, and that’s when I realized Denver had gotten out of the zip ties.
He got his feet free by the time you all burst into the room.
And, well, you saw what happened after that. ”
Yes. I did. I feel a spike of lust race through me at watching my beloved, my little rabbit, take out the man trying to kill us all.
Nico strokes a touch down my arm until I look at him. “He’s perfect for you.”
I give a single nod. ‘I know,’ I sign.
Nico smiles, then lets out a soft breath. “I thought I was going to keep going—to keep traveling east. Hit the UP in Michigan or something, but…would it be the worst thing in the world if I stayed a while?”
“How could you being here be worse than leaving?” I ask. I’m so confused.
He laughs softly. “It was just a figure of speech. I needed reassurance that I’m still wanted around here.”
“Family is always wanted,” I tell him.
His eyes close for a long, slow blink, and then he looks up at me. “I love you. You know that, right?”
“Yes.”
“We love you too,” comes a voice from the doorway. I turn to see my dad walking into the room, and he sets a hand on my shoulder. “I think Denver might be awake. I’ll sit with Nico.”
I stand, and my dad scoots under Nico’s legs, taking his hand. Backing up, I watch the two of them for a moment, and I remember a time when one or all of us sat like that with him when things were bad. After a job gone wrong. After our mother died.
Even when I was at odds with him, he never hesitated to be there for me.
“Thanks for helping,” Nico says softly.
My dad shakes his head. “I will always be here for my sons. No questions.”
I see the look on Nico’s face—the shift between joy and pain because it’s a reminder that while he is family, he still carries the pain of being rejected by the ones meant to love him without conditions.
But we have time to remind him he can let go. For now, my little rabbit is waiting, and I am ready to hunt.