Chapter 12 #2
One of Gabe’s favorite words was “hypothetical.”
I sucked in a breath and tried to get my breathing under control as panic edged in.
“Hypothetically, I have a best friend, and hypothetically, he’s married to a famous musician.
We don’t want anyone to be able to find out where they live, so we want to lock down their car registrations, property taxes, bank account addresses, etc. ”
“All that’s taken care of for Jude and Derek already. And pretty much the entire family. Everything is done through LLCs and shit.”
F.C. Rights Management LLC.
Fuck.
“Okay, so next hypothetical,” I said, carefully choosing my words. “Hypothetically, a California LLC called F.C. Rights Management is attached to an anonymous creative who doesn’t want to be found out. How do we do the same to that identity?”
He paused again, longer this time. “Hypothetically, I might have figured that out a while ago and took a few measures at that time.”
Why was I not surprised? Gabe was a secret squirrel. As friendly and social as he was, he was also sneaky as shit. “Does the person know you took those measures?”
Gabe laughed. “No. The person would lose their shit if they knew anyone had figured out their identity.”
I ran my hand through my hair and yanked in frustration. “No kidding,” I muttered.
“So they don’t know you know either?” he demanded. “Hypothetically.”
“No. I only just figured it out. And I’m freaking out. Not hypothetically.”
Another light laugh came over the line. “You always did have a soft spot for him.”
A soft spot. Was that what this was? It sounded so benign. I thought of it as more of a giant, gaping wound that was incapable of healing, no matter how much time I gave it.
“Someone’s going to figure out who he is,” I said softly. “It’s only a matter of time.”
“Agreed.”
I leaned back in my seat and closed my eyes against the early afternoon sun. “What do we do?”
“We trust that he’s a grown-ass adult who understands risk and can handle hard things, Trace.”
Why was everyone pounding me over the head with the same message? It was annoying as fuck.
“I can want to protect someone I love, asshole,” I snapped.
The light laugh again. “I’m sorry for laughing, but it’s pretty clear from the way you’re growling that you don’t mean love like a friend.
I’m a little giddy to hear you finally talk about it.
My siblings and I have had money on the two of you for years.
Pretty sure Jett’s running a cousin pool for it, too. ”
My mouth dropped open. “You can’t be serious.”
“I figured JJ would have told you by now. But maybe it’s because he bet against you. Doesn’t want you to think about it, probably.”
I wanted to be angry with JJ for not mentioning it, but then again, I would have dismissed him out of hand if he had.
“Derek would lose his mind,” I pointed out. “If the two of us ever…”
I heard him shift in his chair. “Mm, hold on. Let me go back to the part… I said something about… oh, here it is. I’m remembering now. We trust he’s a grown-ass adult who understands risk and can handle hard things, Trace.”
I groaned. “You make that sound so easy.”
“It’s not,” he said, suddenly sounding more serious. “I get that you can love someone and not make it work. But you sure as shit can’t make it work without trying. If you want something badly enough, isn’t it worth at least making an effort?”
“How do I tell him I know his secret?” I asked, because even I knew a relationship couldn’t be built on a lie.
“Well, I think you start by making sure you’re over your Derek hang-up, which means getting over your Derek hang-up. And then I think you let him know you’re on his side. That if you had to choose between him and his dads, there’s no question who you’d choose.”
Fuck.
There already wasn’t a question.
I’d choose him every time.
I’d known it from the moment I kissed him today. Hell, from the moment I’d decided I needed to see him, even though Jude and Derek had told me to go home.
But finally admitting it to myself was revelatory.
Gabe sighed. “And then you tell him that his secrets are safe with you. Everyone wants to be seen by the person they love, Trace. Whether they realize it or not.”
It was a stretch implying I was the person Wolfe loved like that, but I got his point. “Okay.”
“And when you finally tell him you figured it out,” Gabe continued, “maybe also tell him to stop recording videos with personal objects in them? I’ve spent hours trying to file the serial numbers off his fucking posts, man. It’s impossible.”
I couldn’t help a huff of laughter. “I recognized the SERA hoodie in one of the videos,” I admitted. “Thank god the logo’s not visible.”
“Who do you think removed it? Fuck.” I heard something beeping in the background, like a timer. Gabe sucked in a breath. “Okay, man, I gotta go. Do hard things, alright? Later.”
The call ended abruptly. I blew out a breath and glanced back at Fletcher Coe’s Instagram feed, playing the most recent video one more time.
I’m letting go of who I’ve been,
Like a stone I don’t have to carry—
But even in all this open…
I’m still chasing something I can’t hold.
Yeah, even in all this open…
I’m still chasing something I can’t hold.
So I throw the rock with all my might
Into the watercolor morning…
His hands moved swiftly over the strings, pulling out an acoustic melody I would put on auto-replay if it weren’t a social media post.
I went to the internet and typed in Who Is Fletcher Coe before thousands of results flooded the screen. Reddit posts and salacious articles. Twitter rumors and long, stacked Threads posts with multilayered conspiracies.
Thankfully, none of them had quite figured it out yet, but it seemed inevitable that they would. Unless… unless I could figure out a way to stop it.
I spent the rest of the afternoon trying to find a solution, but by the time I had to head back for the campground dinner, I was no closer to finding an answer than before.
And despite what Gabe had advised, I wasn’t strong enough to do the hard thing.
Not when telling Wolfe what I knew might make him run again.