12 Ian #2
“What?” Ian feels their head starting to hurt. “Like a load? On his ass? I’m so confused.” The annoyance is really boiling in them now. “Why are we even talking like this?”
“Stop,” Nicole says, voice cold with authority. “It’s best if you just say it clearly.”
“But what if someone is listening?” Ollie says.
“Then we’re screwed anyway.” She takes a breath and looks at the camera, chin level.
“Yesterday, when Brandon and Ollie went to track down Jon”—her voice is the same one she used while giving presentations in school—“they saw him meet with another man. Who was shot in the head by an unknown assailant.”
“What?” Ian swallows. “Is he okay?” They were already sweaty from working and the lights, but it dried a little, turned sticky, and now they’re sweating again, extra oily.
“No,” Brandon says, eyes wide.
“And you didn’t tell me? What the fuck?”
“I told them not to,” Nicole says. “To keep you safe.”
Ian nods. From Nicole, it makes sense. And they appreciate it. But she should have known better than to think Ollie and Brandon could keep this a secret.
“So I’m guessing from the poor attempt at code that you didn’t go to the cops?” Ian says.
“They called me,” Nicole says as Ollie opens his mouth to respond. “And they took me to where they saw the shooting, but the body was gone.”
Ian shakes their head, not sure what to do with this. “So what does this have to do with the guy in my section?”
Nicole frowns. “That, I don’t know.”
“That guy was the one who picked up Jon’s bag when we called the number he’d left,” Brandon says. “That tattoo anyway.”
“And yesterday, when I went to see if there was video of the alley—” Ollie starts.
“You what?” Nicole interrupts, voice higher than Ian has heard it in years. “After I told you to lie low?”
“I wanted to figure out what was going on!” Ollie says back.
Ian would normally enjoy watching this sort of drama unfolding, but with murder in the mix, it’s not the usual sort of low-stakes amusement.
“So why was he in my section?” they interrupt.
That’s the important thing. Are they in danger?
Suddenly it hits them—the break-in. “Was he who trashed our place?”
“Someone trashed your place?” Nicole asks quickly, eyes narrowing.
“Oh,” Brandon says, as if realizing something. “Could that be related to our thing?”
“Of course it could!” Nicole looks like she wants to reach through the screen to strangle Brandon.
“Ian said they had it figured out,” Brandon says, defensive.
“I thought it was Victor, getting me back for keying his car,” Ian explains. “I kind of went to his work and yelled at him.”
Nicole sighs.
“You saw Victor?” Brandon asks, softening. “How did that go?”
“Well, I accused him of breaking into our place, and it sounds like he didn’t, so I’m guessing not well,” Ian says, a cold flush of embarrassment sweeping through their body.
They must have looked insane to Victor. A year of nothing, and they show up out of the blue and admit to keying his car and accuse him of something he didn’t do. Great. Just great.
“Maybe it’ll help you find closure,” Ollie says.
“I don’t really care about closure right now,” Ian snaps, voice harder than they meant. “Am I in danger? How does he know where we live and I work?”
“Yeah, that part is scaring me, too,” Brandon says, standing and putting the chain on the door in his little video screen.
Nicole shakes her head. “I don’t know. But home isn’t safe right now. You need to find someplace else to stay.”
“Come here!” Ollie says, almost bouncing. “There’s a study with a pull-out bed, and the master bedroom. We can have a slumber party!”
“Ollie, you understand they’re hiding from a potential murderer, right?” Nicole says slowly.
“No reason we can’t make it fun.”
“It sounds safe,” Brandon ventures. “Just until we can figure it out. Did you talk to that person at work yet?”
“Yeah,” Nicole says. “I’ll call her once we hang up.”
“So do I just leave?” Ian asks.
“No,” Ollie and Nicole say at the same time.
“You have to act normal,” Ollie says.
“I…agree.” Nicole sounds surprised as she says it. “The more innocent you look, the less likely he is to take interest in you. You just happen to live with someone who just happened to see something, and you’re all going to go about your business without mentioning it. You are no danger to anyone.”
“Okay…” Ian says, tugging at a poster for a gay dance party someone taped to the door in here. It’s got a photo of bears in jockstraps, ass to ass.
“Go home after work, pack a bag, and you and Brandon go to Ollie’s together.”
“Take a weird route,” Ollie says. “In case you’re being followed. Subways are good. Get on the train last minute like you just realized it’s the one you wanted.”
“Sure,” Brandon says. Ian is happy to note that he looks as shell-shocked as they feel.
“Okay,” Ollie says, then gives them the address. “See you later!”
Everyone hangs up, and Ian takes a deep breath alone in the bathroom. They’re going to kill Brandon.
Someone knocks on the door, and Ian leaps away from the wall like they heard a gunshot.
“Constance, you in there? We need you for the finale number.”
Finale number . Fuck, is everything just going to sound ominous now?