by C. L. Stone
“We’re still working on him,” North said. “Although I really don’t understand him. He led Greg to Sang, but let Gabriel and Luke know where she was after he left her. And then he basically handed her own broken phone to her.”
“I suspect it was a set up,” Mr. Blackbourne said. He sat at the stool near the mirrored wall. He looked a little worn.
Victor was feeling it, too. They’d spent a lot of hours drugged and tied up. They needed recovery time but Victor’s own public image couldn’t be sacrificed to allow him a real chance to sleep. Not until after tonight. “So it was a trap of some sort.”
Mr. Blackbourne nudged at the corner of his glasses. “I believe he led Miss Sorenson straight to Miss Addison.”
“He wanted Sang to intervene?” Victor asked, frowning.
Mr. Blackbourne nodded. “He left her enough clues. He knew she’d insist on finding you if she revealed the dragon code to him. She’d want to go save it.”
“She knew better,” Victor said. “I told her there was nothing important on that one. I never store information on it.”
“I don’t think she was completely worried about that,” Mr. Blackbourne said. “According to the others, they were more worried that Volto had access to the house. Instinct told her something was wrong. She convinced the others to make sure we were safe because she knew he might have access to us. With our communication breakdown, she probably did what we would have done.”
“She should have backed off,” North grumbled.
“She did what she thought she had to, and we’re probably lucky. I hate having to rely on luck of any sort. This shouldn’t have happened at all.”
Victor finished buttoning up the Armani shirt. “I don’t understand. Why set Muriel up to basically kidnap us, only to have Sang come in and stop it?”
Mr. Blackbourne pinched his forefinger and thumb together, rubbing the skin, thinking. “I don’t think he expected her to succeed.”
The dressing room was quiet. North’s eyebrows furrowed, his lips pursed.
Victor brushed some of his wavy hair away from his eyes, trying to put the pieces together. “Luke said when he was at the door, Muriel seemed okay with them being there. Like she wanted to invite them inside. Even when she caught them snooping around downstairs together, she was nice until she slipped them both needles and they went down. She didn’t want to invite Sang inside.”
Mr. Blackbourne nodded. “I don’t know if this was a plan by Volto, but I suspect she was supposed to keep Miss Sorenson out of the house. She lured us in under false pretenses and kept us, but she specifically wanted Miss Sorenson to leave the house. I don’t think it was just her jealous and obsessed temperament. Volto may have told her not to harm Miss Sorenson, and didn’t expect her to intervene directly.”
“But why?” Victor asked.
Mr. Blackbourne’s eyes narrowed. “I believe he may have thought Miss Sorenson would have called the police. If they had been called, it would have been a real mess. He probably expected a normal reaction from her. Anyone else probably would have gone to the police straight away. He drastically underestimated her.”
Victor wanted to ask more, but questions piled into his head. He wasn’t sure if he’d get any direct answers, either. Right now, they all had more questions. The only one of any importance stood out. “Where is Volto now?”
“There’s no way to trace him,” Mr. Blackbourne said. “Not until he makes another move.”
“We need to do another forensic sweep,” North said. “Maybe of the basement level of that hospital. There’s bound to be a hair or fiber from his shirt, or something else useful.”
Mr. Blackbourne shook his head. “It’s already been done. Nathan, Kota and Dr. Green, plus a couple of favors from the Academy laboratory. No DNA traces and the fibers collected from Miss Sorenson’s clothes are mixed in with ours. The only fingerprints on her phone are ours or Muriel’s. Whoever this is, he’s good. We need a family meeting tomorrow. We’ll need new, secure phones. We need to completely overhaul our security, with Miss Sorenson included in our grid.”
“How did you know?” Victor asked North, turning to him. “How did you know something was wrong at my house?”
“It was the photos,” North said. “The new ones. I hadn’t seen the others, the first ones you guys got or the ones she mentioned at the spa. She showed me the third set. It took me a moment, but I remembered. The pictures from Nathan’s house were from our own cameras. I knew because I’d installed that one. I remembered the angle. Muriel must have been spying on us from our own phone apps.”
Victor nodded. He’d seen it, too. The cameras he’d had installed at the spa. Janet had asked him a year ago to help her with security. He’d installed cameras that would turn on and start recording at night if motion was detected. He gave her access links to be able to download the footage, but he still had access to those cameras. He’d forgotten all about them. It wasn’t until after he had dropped Sang off with Dr. Green, once he felt she was safe and he could think, he’d looked at the photos again. That’s when he knew. He just didn’t suspect Muriel. He suspected Volto. One person. It’s where his assumptions had gone wrong.
Victor sat down on one of the chairs, sinking into it, pressing his palms to his eyes. “It feels like every time I turn around, Sang’s in another mess. I don’t know how much more I can take of this.” He hated this confession, but it was true. Just when he thought she was safe from her stepmother, and then Mr. McCoy had vanished, while they were still dealing with Ashley Waters, he thought for sure things with Sang would calm down. When Volto, or Muriel, had sent the first message, he wanted to believe taking her to his house to protect her would have been enough. It seemed lately no matter how hard he tried, every effort was never enough.
“Are you saying you don’t want her in the group anymore?” Mr. Blackbourne asked.
Victor snapped up, zeroing in on him. “Don’t be ridiculous. We can’t leave her now. We can’t ever—”
Mr. Blackbourne sliced two fingers through the air to silence him. “I need you to think and speak carefully, Mr. Morgan. We’re in a very delicate situation with her.” He slid a glance to North who responded with a tiny nod. Mr. Blackbourne faced off Victor again. “There will come a time when the Academy will come to us with questions about her, and I fear that time will be very soon. If that’s the case, we need to be sure. I need to know exactly how you feel about her.”
Victor was about ready to fly off the handle again, but stopped, considering. His first instinct was to say she was a good girl, a good friend, and they had to do what was best for her.
That wasn’t completely honest. That was a PC answer he would rattle off to the press, to protect his image and himself. She’s just a friend was the phrase he’d told his mother after she questioned him the other day about her. He wanted to tell Mr. Blackbourne this because he didn’t want to admit the truth, because he felt it would complicate everything.
His patience was waning. With the way both North and Mr. Blackbourne stared at him, he suspected they might already know. Maybe he was showing more of his feelings lately than he realized. Like every time Sang was around him lately, he started to forget himself, forget who he was supposed to be.
His fingers drifted up, touching the medallion at his chest. Protect your heart. It was something he’d heard since he was young. While he’d had prior girlfriends, they had been very callous creatures. They knew his family, his profession as a pianist, and fell in love with the image.
Sang was different. She didn’t know anything about him, and as much as he wanted to tell her everything from the start, he hesitated. Until one day she’d lied to him, the morning after he’d slept beside her in her bedroom. She was hiding something, and he broke. He would buy her anything, a whole new wardrobe, new jewelry, all the things she ever wanted, just to be beside her. He didn’t want it to be like that, like he was buying her, but he didn’t know how else to win her. It was what all those other girls w
anted.
And even after, he felt it didn’t work. Everything he bought her, she would blush, and become the coy little girl tucking her cheek into his shoulder. She said thank you, but still resisted. Like she was waiting for something specific and he couldn’t figure it out.
He was getting worse.
It was like every time she drifted away, he couldn’t stand it. He had to get closer. And closer wasn’t close enough. He’d even slept next to her, had her sleeping in his own bed. Still, when she was gone, it was like everything was dull. Silent. He couldn’t hear the music anymore unless she was around.
He’d dabbled in creating music before. He’d played with notes, pondering putting his own songs together. He had a few bars here and there written down. When he was with her, music seemed to piece itself together in his head. Only when she was there, he was too busy with her to touch a piano.
Protect his heart. No. He’d failed, and miserably. From the moment he’d jumped on her in Kota’s bed, to when she bumped into him and kissed his neck, all the way up to washing her hair in his bath tub and tonight, when those eyes lit up. Especially tonight. Of all the money he’d spent on her, she never lit up before so much as when he’d played for her. He felt he’d never played so well before, when he realized this might be the key to her heart.
Victor blinked hard, realizing he’d dragged on the silence and Mr. Blackbourne and North were waiting for him to respond. He sighed. He was sure to be called out for being an idiot. “We need to keep her with us,” he said. “I can’t let her go. Not now.”
Mr. Blackbourne’s critical eyes scanned his face. “What are you saying?”
“I’m in love with her,” Victor said, trying to emphasize the conviction he felt about it. He felt he should have told her first, but this was a crucial moment. “I’m sorry. I know you said not to get too close. I’ve been denying it for a while but I can’t anymore. I love her.”
Mr. Blackbourne, surprisingly, didn’t spring on him. He remained quiet. Victor’s tense shoulders dropped a bit at a time when he realized Mr. Blackbourne didn’t look particularly disturbed by this. He slid a glance to North.
North’s dark eyes were harsh, and his fists were clenched, pushed into his thighs. He grunted. “Did you tell her? You better not be fucking around.”
Victor shook his head. “I’m serious. I’m not playing with her. I haven’t told her yet.”
“That’s good,” said Mr. Blackbourne. “You probably shouldn’t tell her. Not now.”
“Why?” Victor asked. Part of him was relieved. Mr. Blackbourne hadn’t told him he couldn’t love her. That alone was what he’d feared. “I should tell her, right? I should be honest. We’re supposed to be.”
“Normally, I’d agree with you,” Mr. Blackbourne said. “Only now, I don’t think so. We’ve got a bit of a problem with Miss Sorenson.”
“What’s that?” Victor sat up sharply, almost ready to stand and run and fetch her himself. “What’s wrong with her?”
Mr. Blackbourne waved a hand through the air. “Maybe you haven’t noticed, but you are not the only one to feel so deeply about her.”
“What?”
“Miss Sorenson’s qualities haven’t gone unnoticed by your brothers.”
Victor blinked at him for a moment, piecing together what he was saying. Slowly, his eyes moved to North again. When their eyes met, horror struck through his body in a wave of thundering timpani drums.
“You,” Victor stumbled as he spoke. “You ... you love her?”
North’s lips tightened like he was holding something back, but he nodded.
“When? How?”
“Does it matter?” North’s voice was a notch deeper than usual. “Would it matter when or how? Or who was first? Honestly, I don’t think we’re the only ones, although no one else has confessed it yet.”
Victor’s heart felt like it was being squeezed. It felt impossible. He’d known the others were taking her to the football games, sleeping next to her. It all felt necessary, because of circumstances. When Silas had held her the other night after her bad dream, he’d appreciated it, because he couldn’t play music and hold her at the same time. But the way Victor held her hand, the way she looked at him in those moments they were alone, she’d made him feel exclusive. He felt that, like him, she was dying to figure out the puzzle that would fit them together.
But what happened when someone like North, or Nathan, or Kota confessed they might love her, too? What could he possibly offer her compared to the others? Music? Could he use his music to make her love him? Money wouldn’t work, of course, nor would he expect it to. Music was about the only advantage he felt he had.
“No,” Victor whispered. This was the worst tragedy. If she had to choose between himself and North, he was sure she’d pick North. Was he so ignorant to not have seen this coming? Had he imagined her returning his feelings? He’d felt her kiss on his cheek, one of the few times she did return the attention he was dying to get from her. But if North wanted her for himself...
North frowned. “It’s shit, isn’t it?”
Mr. Blackbourne shook his head. “It doesn’t have to be like that, Mr. Morgan.”
“Like what? Isn’t this what you warned us about?” Victor asked. “If more than one of us loves her ... We have to ask her. She has to decide. And then, I don’t know. We have to become one of those couple teams, right? North and Sang would have to leave.”
“Unless,” Mr. Blackbourne said.
“Unless what? Unless she says no? Unless she runs off and doesn’t want any of this anymore?” Victor stood up, pacing back and forth in the small space of the dressing room. He fumed. Wild thoughts of running to find Sang, to tell her right now, to get his confession in before North swept in over him. He’d beat him to her. He’d win her over. He’d give up all of this, the money, everything he owned. He’d play until his fingers were nothing but bones.
Mr. Blackbourne eased himself out of the seat. He held himself up, with his shoulders back. “Unless she loved you both. Unless she loved us all.”
Victor stopped pacing, staring at him. “You can’t be serious.”
Mr. Blackbourne gestured to North. “Look at him and tell him what you’re thinking now. How you’d run off and steal her away so you two could be together. Could you live with yourself knowing you left North behind, miserable because he loved her, too? Could you live with her knowing she may have had feelings for him, and you denied her that happiness?”
“But...”
“Think about it, Mr. Morgan. What if Miss Sorenson came to you and told you she loved you, but she loved North as well? She’s upset. She’s worried she’d made a mistake. She couldn’t possibly love more than one person, but she does. She begs for your understanding.” Mr. Blackbourne took a step forward. “Would you crush her heart and tell her she had to choose? If she really loved you, too, would you stop her?”
Victor’s whole body seemed to stiffen as much as his heart did in that moment. “It’s impossible.”
“It’s already happening,” he said. “What we need to know is are you determined to run away with her, or can you possibly be willing to stick this out?”
Victor pressed his palm to his face, rubbing. “How could it possibly work?”
“We haven’t told anyone yet,” Mr. Blackbourne said. “But North and I recently visited the other dog team. The one with a single bird.”
Victor’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re kidding. You did? When? How?”
North coughed once. “They live in this state,” he said. “We saw them. They live together in a big house.”
Victor’s eyes widened. “Together?”
North nodded. “She married them,” he said. “All of them. She fell in love with all of them and the guys loved her.”
“It was the circumstances,” Mr. Blackbourne said. “They were trapped in an assignment with a girl and they couldn’t back down. She had to stick it out with their group and it was inevitable. Only they managed t
o prove to the Academy that their feelings were genuine and that they were happy with the relationship they had developed.”
Victor felt his brain contorting to try to put this together. “She stayed with them?”
Mr. Blackbourne nodded. “It doesn’t have to be one she chooses. The question is, are you willing to let the others love her, too? Instead of leaving us, or one of us leaving with her, could you live with North and yourself being in love with her? She wouldn’t have to leave, neither would either of you. Or anyone else that might love her.”
“Who else does?” Victor asked.
“Would it matter?” North asked. His eyes were intense on a spot on the floor. “I know what you’re thinking. I’ve been going through the same questions. When it comes down to it, though, if we forced her to choose one, there’s nine of us. Who is to say she’d choose either of us? Or any of us? She may decide not to, to spare our feelings because of who we are. But if we stay together. If we agree that we can all love her, she may just choose to stay.”
“She wouldn’t...”
“Love her or lose her,” North said. His head picked up slowly and he locked his gaze on Victor. “I’d rather split my time with her than lose her now. I can’t. I couldn’t live with this group if she left with any of you. I’d end up chasing her.”
North may as well have squeezed Victor’s heart with his bare hand. “You’d follow us?”
“I’d come for her.” He frowned. “Don’t make me try.”
“This is our problem, Mr. Morgan,” Mr. Blackbourne said. “Would you not pursue her if one of the others ran off with her? Sang is rather unique, herself. She’s got a big heart and I fear she’s going to have a worse time with dealing with this than any of us will. She’ll feel the guilt of splitting up our group, our family. The Academy would probably look at expulsion for all of us if we start this sort of dog fight over her.”