29
JAY
With his mind drifting in space, he could still see the dancing flames. They loomed toward the sky, terrifying and unyielding. But he wasn’t afraid.
The fire wasn’t there for him.
Voices came and went—voices he knew, people he thought he’d never see again. They drove him somewhere and tried to ask him questions, but he could only reply with an obscure grumble that hurt his parched throat.
Eventually, they stopped talking and allowed him to rest.
The place they took him to smelled familiar, but it didn’t make sense for them to be there. A man whose voice he didn’t recognize came and poked a needle into his vein, making sleep much sweeter. But he could still smell the stinging smoke.
*
He cracked open his eyes in a dim and familiar bedroom. The blanket above him felt warm and comfortable, but echoes of pain were present, although less severe than they had been... yesterday? Yes, that felt correct.
An unpleasant feeling covered his torso, like there was something wrong with his skin. In an instant, he remembered the numerous cuts, needles, and Andy’s fucking teeth. His waking brain kindly followed by reminding him of other things that had happened since Dima smashed his head against the car and threw him into madness.
With his sharpening senses came the realization that he wasn’t alone in bed. Gingerly, he tilted his head to meet two familiar blue eyes.
“How long have you been watching me?” Speaking felt odd, as if dry glue clung to his tongue.
“A while.”
Jay raised his shirt, although it looked like one of Ethan’s. His body was covered with bandages, but at least nothing seemed to be bleeding. He lowered the shirt and moved to lie on his side, facing the man he had vowed to save but ended up being saved by. A bandage covered the side of Chris’s head, but he seemed otherwise fine. Some of the skin on his nose and ears had begun to peel because of the fire, and Jay assumed it was the same for him.
They watched each other in silence, early morning rays of sun peeking through the curtains of their old cabin.
“How’d we end up here?” Jay asked.
“Mickey said that taking us to a hospital would make the cops ask unwanted questions. I was barely conscious, but I told Ethan and Ant that I didn’t want to explain two dead bodies—three if we’re counting Dima.”
“Oh, we’re definitely counting him. Was it your idea to come to the cabin?”
“Yes. It was on our way back to the city. We also got rid of Trevor and Dima's cars.”
“You've been busy.”
“Ethan and Anthony did most of the work.” Chris drew a breath. “I’m sorry.”
Jay could clearly see in his eyes the weight of guilt. During his short time with the Mitchell brothers, he had gotten a glimpse into a world of perversion. It was unfathomable to imagine Chris—Daniel—living with those people for two whole years, then having the strength to escape and rebuild himself.
Jay cleared his dry throat. “I told you I’d help with the monsters, didn’t I? Granted, I didn’t expect it to happen so fast, but that’s on me for handing out promises like candy.”
Chris slid closer. “Yes, that was rather careless of you.”
They grew quiet, and Chris seemed troubled.
“What is it?”
He met Jay’s eyes. “Do you think I’m poison?”
“Meaning?”
“You know what I mean.”
He did, and he couldn’t blame him for thinking that since he himself had thought the same until recently.
“It’s a loaded question, but no—you’re not poison. Trevor was, and you two are nothing alike.”
Chris didn’t respond, but the tension gradually left his features.
“I remember a doctor,” Jay said.
“Mickey sent him to meet us here. He said that we’d be fine as long as we took it easy. Ethan updated Stu that you were safe.”
“Damn, big brother’s gonna whoop my ass. Did you speak with Melissa?”
Chris’s face darkened. “Briefly. I told her I was okay and would be coming home today. We’ll need to have a long talk when I see her.” He wet his lips. “I’m going to tell her everything about the Mitchells and about Mr. David. I should have told her years ago.”
“Better late than never.”
“We’ll see.”
Jay took a breath before quietly saying, “Listen, about what Trevor made us do... should we talk about it?”
“No.”
“You sure?”
“We did what we needed to.”
A soft knock on the door.
“He’s up,” Chris said.
The door creaked open, and Ethan and Anthony walked in. For a while there, Jay had believed he would never see them again.
“Permission to be cheesy,” Anthony said.
Jay turned on his back and spread his arms. “Granted.”
Anthony leaned down and hugged him carefully, then Ethan took his place and whispered in Jay’s ear, “Thank you for saving him.”
It hadn’t quite happened like that, but Jay knew what he meant.
Anthony and Ethan sat on the bed and shared their sides of the story. Jay wished he had been there when they vandalized the Mitchells’ house—he would have torn down the fucking walls.
Later, Anthony helped him cross the unstable floor into the living room where he slumped on the couch. Ethan brought him a strong coffee and warm bagels. A part of Jay worried he was only hallucinating this cabin. Maybe his brain had created this wholesome scene to shield him from whichever hell his body was enduring in that basement.
He took a sip of coffee, knowing it was too hot. The sharp burn didn't wake him up. I guess this is real.
“How did you guys get the cabin on such short notice?” Jay asked.
“Turns out they’re going to build a road here starting next week,” Ethan said and sat on the couch next to Chris. “They’ll take down this cabin and others around the area.”
“The hell? No way!”
“We’ll find another cabin,” Chris said as he nibbled on a bagel. “One with better water pressure.”
Anthony chuckled. “And a stove for me to cook. I’m too old for snacks.”
“That sounds like blasphemy, Ant.” Jay looked around him in sadness. He had almost ruined this cabin for all of them the last time they were here, but now he couldn’t imagine a world where they could never come back.
Ethan and Chris sat with their shoulders resting against each other. Jay had seen them like this countless times through the years, as if they drew comfort from each other's physical closeness. He glanced at Anthony, curious to spot any hint of jealousy, but there was none.
“You guys think that anyone might connect us to the deaths of Trevor and Andy?” Ethan asked quietly.
Chris shook his head. “No. Everything in that house was destroyed, and no one would report them missing. I doubt that the police will even identify their bodies, and if they do, Mickey promised to make the case disappear.”
Jay sighed. “I might end up voting for the guy.”
“I’m sure he’s expecting us to hand out flyers.” Chris cleared his throat. “I’ve thought about what I want to do with the Mitchells’ inheritance. The plan was to get rid of it, but I want to go about it differently. Once the two years are over, I’ll give half the money to charity, and the rest I’ll split between the four of us.”
Jay shook his head. “That’s your money.”
“And in two years, it will be ours. Please don’t fight me on this.”
“You don’t have to decide now,” Ethan said.
“Then it will keep bugging me. I don’t want to think about it again until it’s time to split the money.”
Jay exchanged an uncomfortable look with Ethan and Anthony, but Chris’s stubbornness was unmatched. The three of them nodded their acceptance.
Chris turned to Ethan. “Can I borrow your jacket? I’m a bit cold.”
“Sure.”
Halfway through putting the jacket on, Chris stopped and frowned. “What’s this?” He pulled out something from one of the pockets. It seemed like a stack of photos. His eyes grew wide, the color instantly draining from his face.
“Shit! I forgot I took them. I wanted them as evidence. I’m so sorry.”
Chris moved Ethan’s hand away when he tried to take the photos. “It’s okay, E. I’m sorry you had to see them.” Chris silently flipped through the photos, then slowly began to share the memories they evoked. He didn’t dive too deeply into the details, yet that didn’t make his words any less unsettling. None of them dared to interrupt; they were there to listen and absorb, to share the burden as much as they could.
Once done with the last photo, Chris exhaled and looked up. “I want to burn them.”
They got a pot and matches from the kitchen, then stepped outside to the front of the cabin. Chris crouched down and placed the photos in the pot. He lit a match, and with no further ceremony, set fire to another relic of his past.
Back in the living room, Ethan told Jay, “Maybe you should take my phone and call your brother. He was upset.”
“Stu lives for drama.” But he still took Ethan’s phone and stepped out onto the patio. The air felt sweet enough to lick, the lake wide and peaceful. He sat on one of the chairs and called his brother.
“Ethan?”
“It’s me.”
Stu exhaled. “I’m going to kill you.”
“I’d prefer a backrub.”
“How are you?”
“Been better, but I’ve also been worse.”
“Ethan was vague when he told me what happened.”
“Let’s keep it that way.”
“I was so freaking worried, man. You can’t even believe. Don’t ever pull something like that on me again, you hear?”
Jay had a flashback of Andy walking into the burning house in search of his brother. He felt nothing but contempt toward that sick monster, but that final image would haunt him for the rest of his life.
“Jay, you’re breathing fast. Are you really okay?”
“Yeah, I am. Let me crash on your couch for a couple of days, and you’ll see for yourself.”
“You got it, Baby Jay.”
Jay snickered and hung up.
The other three came to sit with him a few minutes later. He eyed the lake, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Anyone fancy a swim?”
Three sets of eyes watched him in confusion.
“You want to go into the lake?” Ethan asked.
“I do.”
“But you’re still hurt.”
“I’ll survive getting my ass wet.”
“Okay.” Chris stood up. “I’m game.”
“You had a serious concussion,” Ethan said firmly.
“I promise to stay close to you.”
“But we don’t have swimsuits,” Anthony said.
Chris walked down the path leading to the lake and pulled off his shirt. “Like we haven’t seen each other’s cocks plenty!”
Jay zoomed in on the bruises across Chris’s skin. His shoulder was a mess of purple and blue, but there were marks and scratches all over. The only thing that stopped Jay’s rage from erupting was knowing that those responsible had paid with their lives.
He stood up, momentarily dizzy, but not enough to change his mind. “Come on.”
By the time they reached the shoreline, Chris had already stripped and was walking into the water. “It’s cold!”
“Freezing cold?” Ethan called.
“Nah, not so bad.” Chris lowered himself and turned to face them, the bandage on the side of his head taking nothing away from his wide smile. “Come in!”
Moments later, they were all deep in cold and peaceful water, swimming lazily under the sun. Jay’s muscles felt stiff as he moved against the subtle current, but the effort brought energy to his healing body.
The sense of security he drew from this little family was hard to put into words, so he didn’t bother trying. He just soaked up the feeling and let it soothe his thoughts. There were sure to be nights he’d wake up believing he was still down in that basement, like he sometimes woke up believing he was still in his old prison cell. He couldn’t control those things right now, so he let them wash away in the current.
They all floated closer together, their legs touching underneath the lucid water, the silence between them like a secret language.
From afar, they may have looked like one body rather than four.
It sometimes felt they were.
THE END