26. Twenty-six
Twenty-six
September 2022
Connor Kelly
“ H ow come you’re up so early?” Fee asks as he walks into the kitchen, where I’m nursing a cup of coffee. I’m not a morning person, and he’s usually up long before me.
“Couldn’t sleep. Kept havin’ weird dreams.” I sound like a small child, but I can’t seem to shake the feeling that something isn’t quite right.
“What about?”
“Dunno. Don’t remember exactly; just have this horrible anxious feeling in my chest.” I press the heel of my palm into my sternum trying to massage the sensation away.
“Maybe you ate something funny,” Fee suggests.
“I’m anxious; I don’t have fuckin’ indigestion,” I snap at him, and he deserves it. I might be grumpy from lack of sleep, but that is one of the stupidest things he’s ever said. “I thought you were meant to be the smart one in this relationship.”
“Sorry, sorry. That was unhelpful.” He kisses my head on his way to the coffee pot.
“On this occasion, you may live to see another day.” Although, I notice he doesn’t disagree that he's the smarter of the two of us. Rude.
Fee left for work hours ago, but I still can’t shake this nagging feeling something is wrong. I give Niamh a call to check on her and Will, which makes me feel somewhat better.
It’s not raining for once, so I go for a walk to see if some fresh air will get me out of this funk. Wandering down to the village, I pop into the small local supermarket to pick up some milk and eggs since we’re running low. I swear Fee eats a whole pack of eggs each day. He’s a bottomless pit.
On my way home, I take a slight detour to pop in on Archie to see how he’s getting on. We haven’t seen him since Fee’s birthday meal over a week ago.
I knock on Archie’s front door and wait a few minutes, but he doesn’t come to the door. That’s odd; it’s a Monday, and he’s usually working from home. Pulling my phone out, I give him a call, but it goes straight to voicemail. I try Fee next.
“Hey, babe, what’s up?” he asks when the call connects. I must have caught him during a free period.
“Hey, when did you last speak to Archie?” The ball of nerves in my stomach grows by the second.
“Erm, not sure. Let me check my phone, one sec.” I wait while he faffs on the other end of the line. “Oh. Not since he was over at ours the weekend before last. How come?”
Dread claws at my insides. I can’t pinpoint why because I know there are a million good reasons why he might not be home at the moment and not answering his phone, but something in my gut is screaming at me that this is bad.
“It’s probably nothin'. I popped by his place, and he’s not answerin'. Then I tried to call him, but it went straight to voicemail,” I say, hoping Fee will reassure me and point out how I’m overreacting. He hums thoughtfully.
“That’s pretty unusual for him. You don’t think anyone from his old pack could have tracked him here, do you?” That wasn’t even something I’d considered, but now I can add it to my growing list of concerns. Great, love that for me.
“No idea. I know this probably sounds stupid, but I have a really horrible feelin' about this, Fee.”
“It doesn’t sound stupid. Sometimes, our instincts tell us things we can’t see. His landlord is Mrs Jones. She lives next door. Why don’t you ask for the spare key and check everything looks normal inside?” He suggests. It’s a good idea, actually; I should have thought of it. At the very least, once I’ve seen everything is fine inside, I can stop jumping to conclusions.
I knock on the neighbour’s house, and a woman who looks to be in her late eighties comes to the front door.
“Hi, I’m Connor. I’m a friend of Archie who’s letting one of the flats next door.”
“Hello, dear. Yes, lovely young man is Archie. How can I help you?” she says in a thick Yorkshire accent.
“I just wanted to check if you’ve seen him recently?” I ask, and I really hope she has.
“Let me have a think. Last Thursday, I think it was, he picked up some tea bags for me from the shops.” I feel somewhat relieved. That was only four days ago. He’s probably out for a walk or something.
“I’m sorry to bother you, but I haven’t seen or heard from him and I'm a little worried. He’s not answerin’ when I knock, and he’s usually workin’ from home at this time. Is there any chance I can borrow your spare key to make sure he’s okay?” She understandably takes a moment to consider. She doesn’t know me, and I could be asking for the wrong reasons.
“I shouldn’t, really, but he has mentioned you and your husband to me a few times and said you’re good friends of his. Is it okay if I come with you?”
“Yes, of course.” I’m not entirely sure what she thinks she could do to stop me if I was, in fact, here to ransack the place, but I appreciate she seems to have Archie’s back.
Mrs Jones walks ahead of me to Archie’s with the key in hand. She turns the key in the lock and opens the door, calling out Archie’s name.
“Stop!” I tell her suddenly, pressing a hand to her shoulder to prevent her from going any further.
The second she opened the door, I could smell it.
Death.
I don’t know what we’ll find inside, but I know it won’t be good.
“Sorry. Do you mind waitin’ here for a moment while I check inside?” I ask, and I’m grateful when she agrees without too much fuss.
I hold my breath as I step inside the flat. Everything looks normal in the living room, and I can already tell the smell is coming from the bedroom.
I take a brief moment to look around at the home Archie has made for himself here in only a few short months. He doesn’t have many belongings, but the flat came furnished. There are a few plants he bought when he and Fee went to the garden centre a few weeks ago—all perfectly tended to. On the windowsill sits a framed photograph of the three of us. We're all wide smiles and windswept hair at the top of Pen-y-ghent. My heart cracks at the memory; we were so sure that day was the start of something. The start of our new pack.
I’m hesitant to go into the bedroom. As if I can delay reality if I haven’t seen it with my own eyes. I cast a final glance around and head towards the closed door.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
I choke on a sob when I open the bedroom door.
Archie is lying on the bed. His head is at such an angle that his neck is clearly broken.
I promised to keep him safe. I let him down.
He’s the first and only member of our pack, and I didn’t keep him safe. I dig the heel of my palms into my stinging eyes, trying to keep my tears at bay until I’ve done what needs to be done.
Stepping closer, I spot the half-read paperback I’d loaned to him. My anguish quickly turns to fury as I ask myself who could possibly have wanted to harm a man as kind and gentle as Archie. The man who wouldn’t even get up to fetch himself a drink of water if Magnus was curled up asleep on him. The man who came over every single week with a tray of baked goods just because. He’d obviously been dealt some shitty cards growing up, but he was making progress. Damn it, he was healing! Each time I saw him, he’d come out of his shell a tiny bit more.
“I promise I’ll find out who did this to you, Archie. I’m so sorry,” I whisper to his lifeless body.
I take a moment to gather myself before heading back to the entryway.
“I’m sorry, Mrs Jones, but I’m going to have to call the police. I found Archie in his room, but it looks like he passed away a few days ago,” I explain as calmly as I can manage. She gasps and looks at me in total shock. I press my hand to her back, gently guiding her back towards her house. “Do you think you could make us both a cup of tea, and I’ll contact the police?” I’m hoping if I give her something to do, she won’t go into shock or anything. I also don’t want her to overhear me on the phone.
“Oh god. I can’t believe it. ” She stumbles over her words but makes her way towards her kitchen.
“I’m just going to pop outside to make some phone calls,” I tell her before ducking out.
“Did you find him?” Fee asks when he answers the call.
“Yes. He’s gone, Fee. Someone’s killed him.” I can’t even believe the words I’m saying are true.
“What? What the fuck? Why? Shit, I’m leaving work now. What can I do?”
“I’m not sure. I can’t call the police, but his landlady knows, so it needs to at least look as if the police have been around to investigate. I could ask my da maybe, he'll have contact details for higher-ups at the police who know about us.”
“Alice’s cousin Oliver is a police detective in the North East. I’ll try him first. Do you think it was someone from his pack?”
“Okay, yeah. Good idea. I don’t see who else it could be. How long will you be?”
“Around forty minutes. Should I meet you there?”
“Yes, please. I love you,” I add, needing him to know so badly right now.
“I love you too, baby. I’ll be there with you soon.”
I step back inside Mrs Jones’ house. She’s sitting at a small round table in her kitchen with a pot of tea and two tea cups in front of her. She looks up as I walk in and tries to pour the tea, but her frail hands keep shaking.
“Here, let me,” I say, taking over. I add a big splash of milk to both cups, “Do you take any sugar?” I ask softly.
“Just one, please,” she says barely above a whisper, sounding stunned. Using the little metal tongs in the pot, I pick up a sugar lump and stir it into her cup. We sit at the table in silence until my phone vibrates, alerting me to a new message.
Fee: Spoken to Oliver. He’ll be at Archie’s flat in a few hours. I’m 30 minutes away xxx
Phoenix Campbell
Cee and I are in my car outside Archie’s place after dropping Mrs Jones at her daughter's house about twenty minutes away. We're sitting in stunned silence as we wait for Oliver to arrive. Cee's head rests on my shoulder, and his hand is encased in mine. I haven’t been in the flat; it might be selfish of me, but I don’t want to remember Archie that way. He was quiet and kind, with a dry sense of humour once he was comfortable around you.
When Oliver shows up a few hours later in a BMW with blacked-out windows, I’m surprised to see Noah getting out of the passenger side. Cee and I make our way out of the car to greet them both.
“Hey, thanks for coming,” I say to Oliver and introduce him to Cee. Noah steps forward and pulls his cousin into a hug.
“I didn’t know you were coming,” Cee mumbles into Noah’s shoulder.
“Nina’s away, so I’m minding her shop. Oliver explained what’d happened, so…” He gestures to himself as though his joining was the only forgone conclusion.
“In here?” Oliver asks, and Cee nods his head.
“We’ll wait out here if that’s okay.” I pull Cee into my arms; he doesn’t need to see his friend like that again.
Just over half an hour later, Noah appears first and explains Oliver will be here for a while, so we drive back to our cottage. I drop Oliver a text with our address to join us after he’s done.
Noah and I sit in the living room while Cee puts the kettle on. I offered to do it, but he said he needed to keep busy.
“That’s Magnus,” I tell Noah when our tiny black feline makes a home on his lap. “Connor found him abandoned, so now we have a cat.” Noah nods, clearly knowing his cousin well enough to understand that I was getting a stray whether I liked it or not.
A few minutes later, Cee joins us in the living room and hands out cups of tea. He sits down on the carpeted floor at my feet, leaning against the backs of my legs. He tips his head back, and I run my fingers through his shaggy black hair. I can feel Noah’s gaze on us, trying to make sense of our easy affection when, to the outside world, we’re strangers in an arranged marriage. Right now, though, I can’t bring myself to care. Cee needs this, and so do I. Need the reminder he’s here and he’s safe, solid beneath my hand.
Several hours have passed by the time there’s a knock on the front door. Cee gets up to answer it before returning, with Oliver trudging in behind him. It must have started to rain because Oliver’s blonde curls look a shade darker.
“Sorry I took so long. I had to speak to a friend of mine about running some of the forensics off the books.”
“No problem. Can I get you anythin’ to drink?” Cee asks.
“Sure. Coffee, please—milk, no sugar.”
When Cee returns with another round of drinks, Oliver gets right to it.
“I’ve got someone who will come down later tonight to dust for prints and check for any DNA samples before I get a clean-up crew in.”
“What’ll happen to his body?” Cee asks.
“I can arrange for the body to be disposed of.” Cee and I both flinch at the callous statement.
“No. We’ll bury him and have a proper funeral. He deserves a real send-off by people who care about him,” Cee says firmly. I grab his hand and interlace our fingers, nodding my agreement.
Oliver asks us some questions about who might have wanted to harm Archie. It's hard to comprehend anyone wanting to harm him, but we explain that he's the son of Alpha Fraser and how he came to us beaten up and injured back in July. I suppose that'll give him somewhere to start his enquiry.
“Do you two need to stay here tonight? We only have one spare room,” I ask. Thankfully, we replaced the infamous airbed with a double when Archie first came to live here.
“I’ll need to drive Noah back to the shop, I assume, but thanks.”
“It’s fine, stay. I can get myself home,” Noah replies. Oliver has a confused expression on his face.
“Noah can teleport,” Cee explains, and Noah snorts as though he disagrees with the description. It’s news to me.
“You can?” Oliver and I ask incredulously at the same time.
“Mhmm.” Noah doesn’t elaborate.
“Shit, that’s cool,” I blurt out.
“It’s convenient. And on that note…” Noah says, standing up to leave, “Let me know when you’re visiting the Fraser pack, I’ll come with you,” the latter is directed at Oliver, whose eyes narrow in response, but he nods his agreement eventually.
The following morning, I wake up to an empty bed. Opening the curtains, I’m met with a grey, drizzly day; Oliver’s car isn’t out there, so he must have left already. When I enter the kitchen, I find Cee on his hands and knees, scrubbing the skirting boards quite aggressively. He looks up at me, his big green eyes red-rimmed with sadness and exhaustion.
“Please don’t ask if I’m okay.”
“Did you sleep at all?” I ask instead. Cee doesn’t reply, which gives me my answer. Unsure of what I could possibly do to help ease his pain, I grab a spare sponge from under the sink and join him on the kitchen floor, starting on the section he hasn’t got to yet.
An hour later, the entire kitchen has been thoroughly deep cleaned within an inch of its life.
“We should do the living room next,” Cee suggests, determined to run his exhausted body into the ground.
“No, enough now. Come with me,” I say, taking his hand and tugging him back upstairs. I pull him into the bathroom and turn on the hot tap. As the tub fills, I add some bubble bath and salts to the water.
Wordlessly, I begin to undress him, taking my time. He lifts his arms to help me take his t-shirt off, and I plant a soft kiss over his heart. I tug down his jogging bottoms and boxers and gently kiss his hip bone. By the time I’ve removed his socks, the bath has enough water in it.
Cee climbs into the tub, and I quickly take off the athletic shorts I’d shoved on this morning. He scooches forward so I can slide into the bath behind him. I lather up the loofah and gently rub it in slow circles over his chest. I lift each of his arms to clean his underarms and then rinse the soap off. He sits forward slightly when I nudge him so I can massage the shampoo into his scalp and hair before rinsing it off.
While I leave the conditioner in his hair for a few minutes, I rub his shoulders, digging my thumbs into the knotted muscles, and he slowly begins to relax under my ministrations. Once he’s all rinsed off, we get out of the bath and I grab a big, fluffy grey towel to dry him off with.
Back in the bedroom, I fetch us both a clean pair of boxers—whose is whose is anybody’s guess at this point. But when I pull back the duvet, Cee shakes his head at me.
“I can’t, Fee. Every time I close my eyes… I… I just see…”
“Come on, I have an idea.” Connecting my phone to the bedside speaker, I put on the audiobook of The Colour of Magic by Terry Pratchett; it was one of Connor’s favourites when he was younger. “You don’t have to sleep, but you do need to rest. I’ll stay right here, and if you can’t sleep, listen to the book. But if you doze off, I’ll be right here when you wake up. I won’t go anywhere, I promise.”
Cee curls up on his side, and I wrap myself around him, trying to cocoon him from all the awful shit in the world. He only manages to fight his exhaustion for a few minutes before he falls asleep in my arms.