Chapter 10
Chapter
Ten
FADE
Since finding Alice’s journal a few weeks ago, Erez has been distant. Far quieter than normal. He hasn’t been to work for almost a month. It sometimes takes him days to respond to a text or phone call.
I haven’t heard from him in three days. Not for the first time in the last hour, I click my screen on, looking for a text notification from him. There isn’t one.
At least now, I know where to find him, and if he hasn’t texted me back once I’m finished today, I’ll be going to him. He’s not okay.
A hand on my shoulder has me practically jumping from the booth I’m sitting in.
Shye grins as he comes around the side, and I smile in return.
My brother is leaner than I am. It makes him look tall and willowy.
I’ve seen this man eat, and while he eats at least three times what I do, it’s ten times healthier than what I eat.
Getting to my feet, we embrace. “Hey, brother,” I greet.
Shye sighs. “Baby brother,” he replies.
Even though we live relatively close and talk often, we rarely manage to get together. When we first moved to Arizona together, we shared an apartment. When I moved out and got my own place, we’d still get together a few times a week—my place or his.
Gradually, three times a week turned into once a week.
Now, we’re lucky if we manage once a month.
When you’re a child and hear adults saying, “Life happens and we lost touch,” you don’t realize how real that truly is.
Shye is one of the most important people in my life, yet somehow, we rarely manage to see each other despite living so close.
“You order?” Shye asks as he takes his seat on the bench across from me.
I nod. “Rabbit food for one.”
“Sounds good. They make great salads here. Protein?”
“Grilled steak. I hear those are good here too.”
Shye rubs his hands together. “They are! Great choice. What did you get?”
“Burger.”
He huffs. “Honestly, Fade. You wouldn’t have to work so hard at the gym if you ate more than grease, you know.”
“I work hard at the gym so I can eat grease if I choose,” I counter.
Shye laughs. “Fucker.”
I grin. “So? What’s new with you?”
That’s the only opening he needs to begin telling me all about the little girl in his life.
He signed her up for dance and swimming so they can go to the lake this summer.
He just bought her a bike and is teaching her to ride.
He signed up for a class so he could learn how to do her hair—put it up in an elastic or braid it.
He bought a safe step stool for her to help him cook.
Shye talks for twenty minutes about this little girl. I’m halfway through my burger when I ask, “What’s her mother’s name again?”
He stops talking and looks at me, eyebrows pinched together. “What?”
“Your girlfriend. What’s her name?”
His eyes narrow, and he ignores me as he focuses on eating for the next few minutes. Eventually, he sighs. “I don’t think there’s a lot between us. There’s no chemistry. I’m trying, man. I’m truly trying.”
“But you don’t want to lose your quasi-daughter by breaking up with her mother.”
Shye frowns. “Yep. That sounds shitty when you say it out loud.”
“Actually, I find it admirable.” His eyes meet mine.
“We spent our entire childhoods being forced to endure someone’s presence because they were our biological parent and that’s what’s best for the kids.
Our apartment building was filled with kids of single parents.
I’m guessing nearly everyone in that apartment now has mommy and/or daddy issues.
And here you are, desperate to remain in a little girl’s life because you want to be her parent.
Can you imagine how our lives would have been different if Dad had brought someone like you home to us? ”
A soft smile touches my brother’s lips. “Actually, I think about that often. Especially when I see her smile or get excited. Every time she runs to me when I arrive and jumps into my arms, I think what if we’d had that? What if someone had looked at us and wanted to be our parent?”
“I suppose Dad would have had to have dated,” I muse.
Shye snorts. “I don’t think he’s dated since Mom. Maybe Mom scarred him as much as she did us.”
“Speaking of Dad... He’s still coming out this summer, isn’t he?”
My brother turns back to his salad as he nods while taking a bite. “Yep. Planning to hop between our apartments depending on what we have going on. We’re taking him exploring and shit, aren’t we? We haven’t talked about it.”
Our father visits three or four times a year.
We’re less likely to visit him since Shye and I have zero desire to return to Alabama for various reasons.
We’re more than happy to help Dad come out here or meet him somewhere else for a family vacation, though it’s been a few years since we’ve done that.
“Yeah. We should see what he’s interested in. Maybe take a road trip to California or Vegas.”
Shye nods. “What about you? What’s new?”
I concentrate on my burger for a minute as I organize my thoughts. Of course this question was coming. So I begin with the most boring, obvious topic first.
“Work is normal. Finishing up a few projects right now. In the middle of another. Have a full schedule for the next few months, and there’s constant inquiries so I appreciate that work is busy.”
“You certainly have a good voice for narration,” Shye says. “So deep and smooth. It’s kind of melodic, you know?”
I grin. “Thanks. My fans think so too.”
“You still debating on going to signings and shit?”
I shrug. At least he hasn’t steered the conversation to Erez, which I know is coming.
I’m happy to hang out in this discussion for a while instead.
“Maybe. I have my eye on a few. It would certainly be good for networking. At the same time, I’m fortunate to have a full schedule already.
Yes, I can certainly work more, but I like the freedom of not needing to, so how much more networking do I need, you know? ”
“At some point, your pool might dry up. It wouldn’t be bad to get on the roster of audiobook publishers.”
I nod as I finish chewing my bite. “I agree, but those are a different kind of event. Signings are for authors and readers. Yes, there are vendors, and sometimes, a few publishers will show up, but I’m struggling to find audiobook events.”
“That’s why you need a wider network of voice actor friends. Someone knows where they are!”
Shye isn’t wrong. Honestly, I think I’ve purposefully kept myself in the dark about such things. Even if I’ve done so subconsciously. I’ve been doing this long enough that there’s no reason I shouldn’t know about a few by now. That’s assuming there are such things. There must be. Right?
“What about Erez? You still deep in the friendzone?”
There it is. “That’s the only thing I’m deep in,” I mutter.
Shye bursts out laughing. “Oh my god, I don’t need to hear that.”
I grin, but my smile falls almost right away. “Did you know Erez had a sister?”
He nods. “Yep. There’s a picture of her in his room. I’ve asked about her when getting tattoos. She’s deceased, right?”
“Yes. I just learned that she committed suicide when she was fifteen.”
My brother inhales sharply. “Oh fuck,” he whispers. “I didn’t know that. Now I feel like a piece of shit for asking Erez about her.”
“I understand his dissociation with the world. I think I understand why he’s so fucking oblivious to my blatant come-ons. He’s never healed. I’m not sure he’s allowed himself to heal. He’s stuck in this black hole that keeps him under. Sometimes he pops his head out, but usually, the hole wins.”
“Ah, man,” Shye says and bows his head. “I don’t even know what to say.”
“So I know you want to tell me to just tell him, Fade but…” I don’t tell him that there are new developments.
I don’t bring up the paintings or the journal.
The horrible images and the truths that Alice kept to herself for years.
That’s a private matter. But it’s also relevant for why now is not a good time to say anything.
“He’s still dealing with his loss,” Shye supplies.
I nod because that’s the simplest answer.
“I don’t want you to take this as insensitive, but I think you need to tell him or move on. You’ve been pining after Erez for years and getting nowhere. Do you really want to be alone forever?”
“Advice from a man who won’t tell his girlfriend that he’s not interested in dating her,” I say pointedly.
Shye snorts. “That’s a different situation.”
“No less serious. You’re doing what you’re doing for her daughter. I’m not saying something because Erez is struggling with his own hell.”
He’s not convinced that we’re talking about relevant points between the two situations, but we are. They are obviously very different, but they’re no less legitimate reasons.
Shye and I part ways around one, and immediately, I check my phone for a missed text.
There isn’t one, so I do exactly what I said I was going to do—I find Erez.
This time, I do a drive-by beginning with the place he should be, but he’s not at work.
Not that I thought he would be, but it was worth a try.
Then his apartment, where his car is also not parked.
I find it in the driveway of his parents’ house.
It’s the only vehicle there, which I don’t find surprising.
His four parents have two vehicles between them, so it’s not unusual that neither of them are home, even if someone is. However, it’s just Erez.
Except there’s no answer when I knock on the door. Or when I ring the doorbell. Is he asleep? I send Erez a text, and while I‘m not expecting an answer at this rate, I’m disappointed when he doesn’t answer it.
However, I know where his car is which means he’ll eventually show up. Maybe it’s a little stalkery, but I plant my ass on the front steps and wait.
I’m glad I didn’t leave because a truck pulls into the driveway a few minutes later, and Erez steps out of the passenger side. His eyes are on mine immediately, and from where I’m sitting, I can see the dark bags under them.
I cross the distance between us and take his face in my hands. He laughs tiredly. Not a humor-filled laugh. There’s nothing funny in the sound.
“You haven’t slept in days. Have you?”
His eyes close. Behind him, Lanzo is moving art from the back of his truck into the house. I recognize the art. Alice’s black paintings.
“I see the nightmares that she lived with every time I close my eyes,” he says quietly. “So… No, I don’t sleep a lot.”
Without thinking, I pull him into my chest. Once more, that humorless laugh meets my ears, but this time it’s muffled because I have him wrapped in my arms. I’m surprised and relieved when he sinks into my embrace.
For several long minutes, I hold him close and let him take comfort in my arms. I can feel his exhaustion.
While I hold Erez, Lanzo hauls art inside but doesn’t come back with his hands empty.
He brings more canvases down to replace the ones he deposited inside.
I watch him absently, wondering what he’s doing and why, but I don’t ask.
Asking would likely make Erez remember what he’s supposed to be doing and pull away.
Minutes pass as I hold my best friend, the man I love, and he slowly becomes heavier. Just as I think he’s about to fall asleep, Lanzo shuts the truck up, and Erez flinches at the sound.
“Let’s go,” Lanzo says.
Erez sighs, and I feel his weight leave my arms. He backs away and meets my eyes. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to ignore you, Fade.”
He sounds so tired. Like he’s carrying the weight of the world. Or of his sister.
“Where are you going?” I ask, though he doesn’t move.
I think Erez sways on his feet. Eventually, Lanzo gets impatient and opens the passenger door for Erez. He still doesn’t move, so Lanzo grabs Erez’s shirt and drags him to the truck.
My feet remain rooted to the driveway as I watch Erez climb into the truck and Lanzo shut the door. Then Lanzo looks at me. The man is chilly. Having him scrutinize me feels like someone is dragging a skeletal finger down my spine.
I’m a little surprised when Lanzo opens the back door and rearranges some of the art so the seat is bare. He meets my eyes in clear instruction: Get in the truck or go away. I haven’t known Lanzo long or well, but I know him enough to know that’s what he’s telling me.
I nod. That’s enough for Lanzo. He turns around and heads to the driver’s side. I haul my bike up the driveway so it’s in front of Erez’s vehicle and out of the way before I climb into the truck. Once I have the door shut, I squeeze Erez’s bicep and buckle up.
The ride is quiet. I have questions. Of course I do. With the art of horrors sitting beside me, pedophiles and abusers silently screaming at me from the black depths. I’m pretty sure I feel their hostility radiating off them.
Twenty minutes later, I’m not surprised that we’re turning down the driveway to the Van Doren Estate.
I am surprised by the estate itself. I’ve never been on a piece of private property so…
regal and expansive. It’s like its own little town.
There’s a fucking lake with people playing in it! Is that a boat?
Lanzo parks in front of a large glass building that looks like it belongs in corporate America, not in the middle of a beautiful estate. Then again, the walls are all glass, reflecting back the beauty of the landscape, effectively making it blend in with its surroundings.
“Unreal,” I mutter as I climb out of the truck.
“Grab some paintings,” Lanzo instructs. He doesn’t wait for me to comply. He hands me half a dozen. Erez gets a handful, and Lanzo takes the last handful.
Then he leads us inside, and honestly, I’m not prepared for the building of Van Dorens, nor am I ready for this level of technology that Lanzo brings us through. It’s like walking through a sci-fi movie with the scanners and talking screens.
“I’ve entered an alternate world,” I say, looking around the floor of glass panels that have screens built right into them. “What the fuck?”
Erez laughs.