“When you’d leave, how did you manage to keep your father from asking about what you were doing? It seems he’d be curious how you spent your time.”
It was Matt’s turn to laugh, though it came deep and ironic, even to his own ears. “He figured I was carousing with women. You know, loose girls. Not allowed to marry until he gave his okay, the men can get…antsy. He turns a blind eye to those that go and get together with other girls. He even told me once that my future wives would appreciate my experience, so I’m not fumbling on my wedding nights.”
“I can’t say as I disagree,” he laughed. “Heaven forbid you’d fumble in bed.”
Matt laughed with him, glad to be able to laugh about some part of it. “The hypocrisy gets to me. When I started getting out and Dean opened my world, I was so surprised at movies, books. I’d sneak books back home with me, reading them when I could get away from everyone.”
“Hungry for knowledge. I remember that as a child. I was an avid reader. My father, poor thing, he’d beg me to go outside and play. I would, to please him. I’d play in the lots with the other kids, stickball, my mother signed me up for soccer two years in a row, but there was nothing I liked better than learning things.”
“Exactly! That’s how it felt. I’d be working or going to sleep, and I felt like I was missing something. I never brought any books home that had anything about being gay in them, though. It would have been bad enough getting caught reading forbidden books, but gay books?”
Farmington was coming in the next few miles. While Steve told him a tale of having an author friend who wrote gay romance, and he’d gladly get Matt some of the books, Matt was thinking about that feeling, of missing something. He had that again, only it wasn’t the books he was thinking about. Once they got to the city, Matt would be focused on looking for Dean, and his time with Steve would feel like it was over.
They drove to three homes where some of the lost boys congregated. When Steve asked for Dean, he was sent away with a cold shoulder, telling Matt that they were being wary of strangers. There was only one reason for that, so the last one they stopped at, against Steve’s pleas that Matt stay in the car, one of the young men knew Matt, hugging him as he gushed, “So good to see you! We heard you were dead, man!”
Matt was having a hard time remembering his name, but another came to the door, asking, “Jarod, who’s there?”
Jarod, that was right. “It’s Dean’s brother.”
The other man, who Matt did remember, Alex, threw the door all the way open. “Matt, wow, hey! We heard…”
“That I died.” Taking off his sunglasses, he said, “As you can see, they tried. Where’s Dean?”
“He just left.” Jarod left to go back into the house and Alex came out on the stoop, closing the door to give them privacy. “He’s all broke up over you being dead. He needs to know you’re not. He wants to buy a bunch of guns to go into the compound and kill all the goons.”
That had Matt’s heart in his throat. “What?”
Holding up his hand, he soothed, “He won’t, couldn’t if he tried, anyway. No money for guns. Besides, he knows we all have families there.”
Matt deflated some, and felt Steve come beside him. “Alex, this is Steve. He’s helping me out.”
They shook hands, and Alex asked, “Are you a cop?”
“No. I used to be in law enforcement, but not anymore.”
Glaring at him after that answer, Alex pointed the rest of his words back to Matt. “I’ll give him your number, if you have one.”
Steve pushed in, “I have one. I’m no threat to you all, I swear.”
“It’s true, he is helping me and wants to help the others on the compound.”
“Like the others? They say they’ll look into it, but we know they don’t believe us!”
Matt felt his hackles rise as anyone dared to criticize Steve. “Do you blame them? We sound crazy. They try to investigate, but how can they look for girls that technically don’t exist.”
His mouth worked as he tried to think of an answer, but he finally gave up and apologized to Steve. “Sorry, but if you knew…”
“I’ve heard. Matt filled me in, and the rest I can imagine. Matt will be safe, I swear. I’d do anything to keep him safe.”
“Okay, I get it, you’re not them. I’ll call him and have him come back, if he answers. If not, I will pass the number along to him.”
Alex led them around the side of the house, explaining why they couldn’t go inside. “There’re a few people that are new in there. We never trust them right off.”
In the back, they stepped under a patio that was filled with bags of trash, torn and broken lawn furniture, and cans filled with cigarette butts, which Alex would soon add to as he lit a smoke while taking out his phone.
He held the phone to his ear and Dean answered, they watched as he smiled at them and said, “Get back here, buddy. I have a great surprise for you.” He listened for a few seconds, then answered Dean, “I ain’t gonna tell you. Just get here. It’s a good thing, it ain’t a trap. Our safeword is what it’s always been, and I didn’t use it, did I?”
Matt remembered their own safeword, candlestick. He had no idea what words the others used. When Alex ended the call, he was smiling, which relieved Matt as he asked, “He’s coming?”
“He’ll be here in a few minutes. He wasn’t all that far away.”
Matt paced some, walking to the corner of the house, then back to the patio, and again. Steve leaned against the wall in the center of those, watching him with a calm disposition as usual.
He joined him, leaning there, feeling the cool breeze on his sweat dampened face. “I’m not sure I want to hear what he has to tell me.”
“I have a feeling things are quiet. They know you’re not dead, and likely going to tell people what you know. Of course, they don’t know what you know, but they’ll be cautious.”
That made sense, and it was logical, since that had happened before. “I wish I could just blackmail him. Tell him that I have more proof than I do, and if he doesn’t stop, I’ll tell.”
“You could do that,” Steve reasoned, “if you didn’t want justice. How long has he been doing this? How long did your grandfather? How many girls were sold like chattel?”
“How many could I save if I do it that way? One thing my father was right about was that if the government could have crushed true Mormonism, they’d have done it a century ago. They’ve tried and tried, and no matter how many prophets they jail, how many sects they try to break apart, the true church goes on. Not that it’s a church, or true, but he’s right.”
“I guess I always see things from the side of the law. It’s true. It’s hard to go after a church. The people not involved in it, but who are religious, think that if the government goes after one, they’ll go after all. It’s a sticky situation. As bad as people have seen cults to be to their members, it’s a religion. Jim Jones and Jonestown, after that, all those kids dead, there were many eyes opening to the cult mentality, but now…it’s forgotten. I agree that freedom is important, and though I’m not religious, I respect those who are. There is a fine line between religious freedoms and dangerous cults.”
Matt could see that, with his and other sects of the FDLS, but it still wasn’t as simple as all that. “In them, like those kids you’re talking about, there are good, innocent people who are just holding on to their God and ways of praying to him, honoring him. I know that if we busted in and told those people the truth, some could maybe handle it. Most, though? It would shatter their lives.”
Steve moved to his side, leaning his shoulder there on the wall so he could face Matt. “I don’t envy the war going on in your heart, Matt. I wish I could help, take that from you. I remember feeling that way.”
He had to have the softest eyes Matt had ever seen. Though dark, and wise, they never gazed at him with judgement or seeking to see through him in some way. They were open to him, seeing him possibly unlike anyone had before, and Matt
wanted him to know him. “Steve…”
“Yes?”
He didn’t know what to say. The words wouldn’t form because he didn’t know them. He had a huge family, most of whom he treasured, and he had friends too, but he never felt closer to anyone and it made no sense.
“I’m here when you’re ready, Matt. For anything.”
Before he could react to that, Dean came around the corner from the front of the house and he broke into a run at Matt, who came off the wall and met him, getting swept into the bigger man’s arms, and feeling his broken ribs let loose with a symphony of pain.
Steve was there, grabbing Dean’s arm and growling, “Careful with him! He’s badly injured!”
Dean let go of him, obviously concerned, especially after getting his first good look at Matt’s face. “Shoot, Matt, I’m real sorry.” Eyes changing, though, once he looked at Steve, he demanded, “Who the heck are you?”
It was Matt’s turn to be the defender. Touched by Steve’s actions, he got a little rougher with Dean than he’d meant to, pushing him as he yelled, “Leave him alone!”
As he blinked with his confusion, Matt understood there was too much tension, but Steve said it first. “I’m sorry, he’s been hurt, and I didn’t want it made worse. I’m Steve Ricci. A friend of Matt’s.”
Dean shook his hand while sending hurt eyes at Matt. “Sorry, Matt. I didn’t know. I’m surprised you’re alive.”
“Ditto. I thought they might have found you. When I dropped Cherie off with you, they found me a few blocks away.”
“No! She’s safe, thankfully. She’s in a shelter in another state. You said you didn’t want to know.”
It was true, when he brought the few girls they’d managed to save, Matt made Dean swear he’d never tell him where they ended up, fearful that his father or the others would somehow get it out of him. “Well, there’s no fear now. I may need to talk to her and the others. I’m working…now, don’t get upset, but I’m working with some cops.”
Dean spun on his heel, cursing as he started back the way he’d come but Steve yelled out, “I believe you! And I’m not a cop anymore, I swear!”
He turned back to them, but didn’t return, glaring hatefully at Matt. “Matt, you know what this can do! Do you want our mothers and families torn up over this? Maybe killed?”
Matt went to him, motioning for Steve to stay where he was. “I get it, okay, but my cousin, McCully, he’s from Texas. My Daddy called him to tell him not to dare help me if I asked, so he sent someone looking for me. She’s an ex fed and she’s helping me. Steve, here, he’s a fed too, or was, and they got a friend. I’ve told them everything, and they’re not rolling through there, hurting anyone. They know better than us what that will do. I swear to you, brother, they just want to help us. And we need the help!”
He was twisted up, obviously, fighting over every argument in his own mind, but he finally relented, “Promise me, Matt. If my family gets hurt, I’ll lose it, man.”
“Don’t you think I feel the same? But if this saves our sisters, our friends, it’s got to happen. We can’t keep going like this. I almost died, Dean. They were out to kill me.”
Dean took him in another embrace, though this time gently. “I thought they did. I thought I got you killed.”
“Wouldn’t have been your fault if I had, Dean. I knew what I was getting into.”
Dean started for Steve, who stood tall, probably ready to take a punch, but instead, Dean held out his hand, which Steve took. Relieved, Matt went to both of them, feeling like a weight had been lifted from the group.
“We’re trying to get in touch with Aaron. The fed, the one who is still a fed, has a way to leave him a phone. I was thinking Jesse.”
While Steve’s brows drew, not knowing what they could be referencing, Dean laughed, agreeing, “Jesse. How will he know?”
“I have an idea for that, if you help me out with it.”
“I’m all in, brother.”
Steve drove them back to his house, and Matt introduced Dean to the others, Stacy eyeing him suspiciously. Matt whispered to her, “He’s okay.”
“Former cultists can be drawn back.” She shook Dean’s hand, but the words resonated with Matt.
They ate dinner, Dean telling them about some of the lost boys, and where they were camped around the city. Matt watched him throughout, wondering about the things he couldn’t piece together. How they’d found him and not Dean. How he’d been beaten nearly to death, but Dean had walked away without a scratch.
He went to sit outside on the porch by himself. The thoughts were nagging him, but he didn’t stay alone. Steve joined him, and it wasn’t unwelcome. “Stacy told me what she said. I can tell you’ve been stewing on it since.”
“Shouldn’t I?”
Steve was staring out, his eyes on the horizon. He was beautiful like that, the dim light all caught on his face, his eyes thoughtful, and his lips moving with the slow, well-reasoned words, “When you work around criminals, bad people, you tend to get jaded as hell. There’s nothing in any certain person that could possibly be worth saving.
“In the thick of it, that’s all you see, is the bad, but when you step away, sometimes, you can see the good again. Stacy never allowed herself step away completely. She went into a profession that has bad people, even if they’re not always criminal. Adulterers, people divorcing, which is never pleasant, using their kids as leverage, all of it. I used to see some good. I didn’t just protect criminals who were ratting out their colleagues, but good people, caught in situations that threatened their lives. I don’t see one thing wrong with Dean, except he’s a little scattered and very afraid. Seeing what almost happened to you and what did happen to you, it scared him. I think he’ll run now, leave the work to you and the others.”
“You think that’s what Stacy saw, but she just got it mixed up?”
“Oh yeah. He’s ready to take off and never look back, but he worries you’ll hate him for it.”
Matt sighed and thought about the times they’d had, how they’d giggle together when their father was preaching, always getting into trouble. “I could never hate him. In fact, I don’t blame him. I want to walk away too.”
“But you won’t. you’ll stay no matter the danger to you, because you are just like that.”
Steve got up to leave, but Matt stopped him. “How do you know me so well?”
Turning slowly, his shoulders slumped and his eyes not meeting Matt’s, he answered, “You do everything the way a man I’ve been wishing for would do. Why would this time be different?”
Chapter Eight
As Matt told the others his plan, Steve watched him, but he was always watching him. He was starting to feel like a creeper. Not that he could help it. Matt was the one, and Steve knew it.
Self-taught. Self-reliant. Dominant. Handsome, of course, but under that, he was absolutely beautiful. The glow from him, whether it was fury or frustration, it came through, lighting him. Though, the tenderness was evident, a loving nature that his strength could never cover.
Stacy leaned to him and asked, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“You look heartbroken. Did you…come on to him or something and he turned you down?”
She couldn’t understand. He would never come on to him. Steve would never presume to make the first move, if any moves happened at all. Steve knew that deep down, it had to be Matt. Matt called the shots.
“Nah.”
“If it’s the age thing, stop worrying about it. It’s not that bad, and you look ten years younger than you are, so just stop that shit right now.”
He actually chuckled at that, forgetting there was an age difference. Matt wasn’t twenty-three, not in his soul. “It’s not that, Stacy. Shh, now listen to them.”
Matt was sitting next to Dean at the table, and Dean smiled as Matt told their plan. “See, I was thinking of leaving a note for Aaron outside the compound, where we meet. If he’s scared though, he won’t
dare leave that way, if at all. So, we’ll mail him the note.”
Charlie interrupted, “Mail? Won’t they read it?”
Dean explained, “Yeah, except if it’s junk mail, the right kind of junk mail. We send it like an advertisement, but something Aaron might be interested in, like insurance. He’s always wanting to get insurance on himself for the kids. He figures that if he dies, he wants his wife to have the money to get away from the compound, and Gabriel will like him thinking over insurance. If he dies, Gabriel will think they get the money. He’ll send that right through.”
“Okay, I’m still not getting it,” Stacy complained. “How will sending him an insurance leaflet do anything?”
Matt told her, “Dean works part time for a printing shop. He can make one up on the computer to look legitimate, only we add wording that Aaron will know is us. We can put the phone number to the phone we’ll leave for him with Charlie’s drone thing.”
“That’s fucking genius,” Charlie remarked, his voice on a breath. “I mean wow.”
“How will you word it?”
Matt puffed up proudly to Steve. “I’ve already written it out in my head.”
It all came together quickly, Matt and Dean readying the leaflet. It read exactly like an advertisement for insurance, quotes and all, accented with an asterisk. Then, at the bottom, a stock photo of a blond woman was there, telling the reader to ‘get your free flip phone from Jessica Rebel and call 505-555-9943 for a free quote to personalize your insurance experience’.
“Why Jessica?” he asked Matt.
“See, this girl, I guess she was the same age as my mom when they were growing up, she was a little bit of a rebel. My mom told me that she flirted with boys, didn’t like to obey, so she was sent away to get her straightened out. She never came back, and the word was spread that she was married in Mexico to another sect leader. I think we know what really happened to her. She may have even been the first one of all this mess.”
“Damn it, Matt, I’m sorry.”
“At the boulder, there’s another few huge rocks, not as big. There’s one that Jessica painted her name on, big red letters. Jessica the Rebel was here. Close to the bottom of that rock, there’s a hole that we hide stuff in, like notes for the others. If the drone can get the phone in there, we’re golden.”
The Principle (Legacy Book 2) Page 7