Chapter 35
Chapter
Thirty-Five
EREZ
I’m not sure how long I stand there, facing the wall but staring at the folded piece of paper in my hand.
I can see through the paper that it’s Alice’s handwriting.
She always used pens that wrote with thicker lines, but her writing was small, neat, and compact.
I don’t need to open it to know that whatever is on this piece of paper, it’s Alice’s writing.
Have I really never looked behind that one photograph? I’ve flipped every single painting in this house but dismissed the photographs? How stupid of me.
The piece of paper is folded twice. It’s slightly yellowed at the edges, but because it hasn’t been touched since Alice put it there, it’s in good shape otherwise.
Still. I can only bring myself to stare at it.
I’m not sure I’m ready to actually find Alice’s letter.
Assuming that’s what it is. Maybe it’s been here since she painted the canvas next to the photograph, so this might not be what I think it is.
I’ve spent so long looking for something, and along the way, I think a part of me gave up thinking there would be something to find.
I knew there were answers and I knew Alice wouldn’t leave without a goodbye, but even though my gut insisted something was there, I think the rest of me settled in with disappointment.
“Erez?”
I look up at Lanzo’s voice calling from downstairs. Sounds like he might be at the front door.
Zephyr gets up and leaves my bedroom. Probably to tell him I’m in the middle of something. For a minute, I strain my ears to hear their exchange. With a floor separating us, they’re too far away. This has never been the best location in the house for eavesdropping.
My attention turns back to the piece of paper in my hand, and I carefully unfold it once. My name is there, and emotion jumps into my throat.
Something inside me begs that it’s not a goodbye note.
It makes no sense. I’ve spent a fucking decade looking for one, and now that I might be holding it, I don’t want to find it after all.
Maybe before I found her paintings and journal, but now?
Now I know what she struggled with. I know what she went through.
I know the memories that haunted her and the trauma she couldn’t shake.
I’m terrified of what’s in this note!
Footsteps on the stairs announce my brothers’ approach, so I fold the piece of paper again. Zephyr and Lanzo step into my childhood bedroom a moment later.
“What does it say?” Lanzo asks.
I shake my head. “I haven’t read it yet. It says my name.”
Lanzo tilts his head slightly. “We need to go. We found Trumpstein.”
My breath catches, and gooseflesh covers my body in a wave from my shoulders down to my thighs. “You did?”
“We need to have a briefing before we head out. It’s apparently a large house. Do you want to come with us?”
I’ve stopped going to pick up the pedophiles. A few times, I’ve joined the small groups that gather in the watch rooms where we can observe the sick fucks being tortured. I sit in on meetings as they discuss different developments.
It’s just not satisfying even though I want it to be.
We’re rescuing little kids. We’re interrupting an operation that has been going on for at least twenty-five years.
We’re unraveling a child-trafficking and pedophile ring.
We’re serving these horrible people the justice they actually deserve—not the watered-down bullshit the broken justice system would give them.
It’s just not fulfilling some nameless, empty thing inside me. I want it to, but it’s not.
This is different, though. This is the slimeball calling the shots and making it happen. If anyone is going to have a roster of who touched my sister, it’s going to be this man. Maybe if I can find the men who hurt Alice specifically, I’ll finally feel some closure.
“Yeah,” I answer at long last and look at the paper in my hand. What do I do with it? I don’t want to bring it with me. What if something happens and it’s ruined before I can read it?
Zephyr grips my shoulder firmly. “Put it back where you found it for now,” he says quietly. “It’ll be safely waiting there for you until we get back.”
“I haven’t read it yet.”
“I know. You’ve waited ten years, Erez. Another day isn’t going to change what’s on that piece of paper.”
I close my eyes for a minute, letting his words settle in me. They’re reasonable and logical and give the anxiety in me a reason to relax because I have a legitimate excuse as to why I’m not reading it right now.
Nodding, I carefully put the piece of paper back, making sure it’s secure by stuffing the edge into the frame. I stare at my sister’s smiling face in the picture while I do. Is that a real smile? Is it genuine? Was she ever actually happy, or was it all a facade to hide the pain she carried around?
I take a heavy breath and turn away.
Without a word, we follow Lanzo out of the house and into his truck. The ride is silent right up until we pull down the long driveway of the Van Doren Estate.
“Why didn’t you answer your cell phone?” Lanzo asks.
Zephyr nods and pokes his head between the front seats to look at me. “That’s why I came looking for you too. You didn’t answer my texts or my call.”
“Sorry. I—” My words cut off as I feel my thigh for my phone, but my pocket is empty. “I guess I don’t even know where it is.”
Zeph snorts. “Typical. Want to use mine to call Fade?”
I’m about to tell him no, but I reach my hand back to accept it anyway. He does not like being a part of this at all. It’s entirely selfish reasons that have me calling him.
He answers after two rings and greets with, “Is he okay?”
I grin. “I’m fine. Apparently, I lost my phone.”
Fade sighs. “Good to know that’s why you’re ignoring me today.”
“Sorry. I have no idea where it is and only just noticed.”
“No biggie. What’s up?”
“They found Trumpstein. We’re… going to get him or something.
Just pulled into the Van Doren Estate. I wanted to see if you wanted to be a part of this or not.
” I cringe at my ineloquent words. Wow. You’d think I was eleven.
“You don’t have to,” I say quietly, though not any less clumsily. “I know this isn’t your thing.”
“Do you want me to?” he asks.
Oh yeah. He’s figured out that I want him there for me. Not because he has any stakes in this. I don’t even lie when I answer. “Yeah.”
“Okay. I’m on my way.”
“Thanks, Fade.”
“Anything you need,” he answers. “See you in a few minutes.”
The call ends, and I hand the phone back to Zephyr as we pull up outside the office building. Its tall glass wall panels act as mirrors, reflecting the beauty of the estate back to us. Even on private property, the windows are coated so no one can see through them.
Lanzo brings us to the enormous meeting room we’d gathered in when planning the simultaneous take-down of Trumpstein’s businesses as well as the pedos who currently had children “checked out,” as Lanzo stated.
Many of the same faces are already seated around the table.
Aven’s face is on the wall monitor, complete with penis horn and all.
Despite the letter residue burning my hand even though I’m not holding it and my stomach flipping in anticipation of what’s coming, I crack a smile at Aven’s unicorn interpretation.
They’ve added balls that hang down just over their eyebrows, and fuck, if I don’t almost choke at the left one hanging lower than the right.
“Fuck’s sake, Aven,” Zephyr says, laughing.
Aven grins hugely, and the slightly limping horn straightens and stiffens, curling up slightly.
“I’ve been doing research,” Aven says. “I’ve learned a lot about the male body part, and I think it’s a shame that you can’t choose where your penis is. Some are works of art and should totally be on display.”
The conversation gathers more attention as everyone turns to look at Aven.
“Is that so? You mean piercings and tattoos and such?” Zephyr asks.
Aven nods. “Oh, definitely. But some are just… really nice. You know? But there are other things too. Did you know some people are born with two penises? Two! Oh, man. I kind of want to add a second onto my head so I can be a bicorn. Do I make an extra sac though?” Their eyes roll up as if they can see the penis horn on their head.
“Oh my god,” Rosalie comments and covers her mouth with her hand. Hiding a laugh, I think. Maybe she’s horrified, though considering she’s one of Loren’s quads and grew up with Orev and Arek for brothers, I doubt she’s anything other than amused.
People continue to trickle in as Aven and Zephyr continue their conversation. By the time Fade arrives, everyone is tuned into it, including Jalon, who definitely looks amused though unsurprised.
My parents are last to join us. Mom gives us all a tight hug, though I know she’s just here to listen.
She doesn’t take part in these things. Dadwa and Dadis hug us too, as if we haven’t seen each other in months instead of days.
Dadaz isn’t big on hugs, but he grips our shoulders. That’s his sign of affection.
“Is this everyone?” Greylyn asks. She looks at the two empty chairs. “Do we not know how to count, or are these just in case?”
“Both,” the woman beside her says. I recognize her as someone who’s often around Greylyn during meetings. I’m guessing she’s Grey’s assistant.
Greylyn nods. “Very well. Aven? Can we put your discussion on hold for a bit?”
Aven releases a dramatic sigh but inclines their head. “Yes, boss.”
“Thank you. Let’s begin with the drone view.”
An overhead image of a sprawling house in the trees appears. Then little red arrows pop up and point to various parts of the house.
“There are seven exterior exits that we can identify. Aven currently has control of all the cameras and security. Trumpstein is located just over sixty miles from the estate. Our plan, as usual, is to go in after dark.”
“How ostentatious,” Paisley says, and everyone in the room looks at her. She doesn’t notice at first. The silence that meets her comment makes her look up and meet our eyes. “What?”
“The number of times I’ve heard you announce that the big house is bigger than the White House, yet you want to call this ostentatious?” Zephyr asks.
Paisley rolls her eyes. “This is different.”
“Seriously? The inside of the big house looks like a damn castle, and this is too much?” Zephyr demands.
Fighting a smile, Greylyn delicately clears her throat and says, “Let’s get back to the plan.”
Paisley glares at Zephyr, but Zephyr just shakes his head. He leans into my side and loudly whispers, “Some of the Van Dorens are a little oblivious. We’re working on it with Paise.”
Paisley flings a pen at my brother, causing snickers to rise around the table.
“Anyway,” Greylyn says more sternly, and the room falls silent.
“Our goal is to get Trumpstein out alive. Note that I did not say unharmed. Just alive. We need answers that we will extract at great lengths, but that means he cannot be mortally wounded.” Her gaze falls on Lanzo, then Dadaz. “Am I clear?”
“I don’t agree with this,” Dadaz says. “He’s the reason my daughter was abused.”
“He is,” Greylyn agrees, inclining her head. “Azlan, I know you’re very narrowly focused, but you’re going to need to stay behind or expand your vision.”
Dadaz momentarily looks like he’s going to burn the room down.
“Think about this,” Voss says, and Dadaz’s attention turns to him. “Keeping Trumpstein alive means our chances of locating the trash that abused Alice is far more likely than us guessing.”
He’s not convinced of this. Not even with the promise that he might get his hands on the people who actually hurt our sister. Dadaz presses his lips together and doesn’t respond.
“I need to know whether you’re going to play by our rules or if you’re going to be forced to stay here,” Greylyn says.
Dadaz looks at Jalon, and for a long time, their gazes hold.
Though I see absolutely no tics or nods or anything more than their usual blinking pattern, something must pass between them because Dadaz nods.
“Fine. When we’re finished extricating the information, I get to kill him how I want to kill him. ”
Greylyn nods. “When we’re satisfied that we have everything we’re going to get from him, he’s yours, Az. Yours, your partners’, and your sons’ to do with as you please.”
Dadaz sits back in his chair and crosses his arms. He’s not happy, but he’s appeased. At least for now. I wonder if that’ll change once he’s there. I think they’re risking keeping this monster alive by allowing Dadaz to go.
The plan is far less complicated than previous preparations.
One location. Even though it’s large, it’s still a single location.
The only reason we’re going in with a large number of people is that Trumpstein is self-important.
There’s no doubt that he has others living there.
Protecting him. Serving him. Cleaning up after him.
Probably wiping his ass because he can’t be lowered to perform such a menial task.
The meeting is dismissed, and everyone gets to their feet. I’m slow to follow.
“You’re staying,” Zephyr guesses.
I look at Fade. He smiles.
“Don’t stay back on my account. I’m down for whatever you want to do.”
“I know. I don’t think I want to be there. I’m going to watch the cams.”
Zephyr hugs me, and I close my eyes for a minute. “Good,” he says quietly. “I don’t think these retrievals are helping your mental health.”
“My mental health is fine.”
“Mhm.”
I pinch him, and he laughs. “It is,” I insist.
“The only reason I’m not going to argue is because I believe it’s gotten much better over the last few months. I wouldn’t go so far as to say it’s fine, but I think you’re finally giving yourself permission to heal.”
His words sit heavily on my chest. That’s fair, I suppose.
“Love you,” Zephyr whispers and kisses my cheek as he pulls away, his usual big smile on his face.
“Love you too. Be careful.”
He inclines his head. “Our crazy fuck brother will be there to babysit my wellbeing.”
Lanzo nods his agreement, not in the least bit offended by that statement. Honestly, Lanzo going is the only reason I’m willing to stay behind. My second kill was with the sole purpose of making sure Zephyr was safe. I understand Lanzo’s need to make sure his brothers are safe.
Then there’s Dadaz. He would literally set the entire place on fire to protect his family if they become threatened and fuck anyone who gave him instructions otherwise. My brothers and fathers are perfectly safe.