“You’re gonna take this one?” he asks me as I set my bag in my car Nick had stolen over two months ago. The silver eyesore.
“Yep.”
“Why?”
“I have my reasons.” My chest heats as I near the car.
His brow creases, and he offers a half shrug, stuffs his bag in the back next to mine and gets in.
“You sure you’ve got everything you need?” he asks.
“I’m sure. I won’t ever have to come back to this place if I don’t want to.” I blink and try to clear my mind of all the memories of Nick naked, here in my home and garage, hacking through my mental walls and defenses.
I start the engine, open the garage door and we drive off.
And I don’t care if anybody sees Riot’s with me.
Let them know.
I’ll have Riot in hiding again in a few hours, and then I’ll cease to exist.
I won’t matter, so neither will he.
“You seem awfully calm, considering we’re executing our own public death,” he tells me, eyes on my hands.
“We’re not faking our deaths—we’re just morphing into new identities, that’s all.”
“That’s all?” His voice breaks. “Really? We’re gonna part ways, I won’t have any clue what you’re changing your name to and you’ll forget all about me.” His hand smacks on his thigh and he stares out the side window.
“I won’t forget about you. I’ll be keeping tabs,” I say, my voice sounding more irritated than I want it to.
He’s hurting, and I sound like he’s a burden. That’s not what he is to me. I just don’t know how to do this—to let him know I care without sounding like I’m leading him on.
“Goodie.” He huffs.
“You’re my best friend, and you have been for a long time now. I don’t have anyone else but you that I confide in. Of course I won’t ever forget about you.” My voice is softer this time. I reach out and touch his hand even though my skin is crawling when I do it, and my mind is vomiting up all the reasons this is repellent.
He startles and when he turns his head to look at me, there’s a melding of emotions swimming in his eyes—sorrow, regret, love, hope, and friendship.
“It hurts and heals to hear that, and I don’t know what to say.” His eyes go soft and then heavy.
“I’m sorry.” I take a breath, then hold his hand. “I wanna be there for you, since you’ve meant so much to me, but I don’t want to hurt you any more than I already have.”
He smiles in an understanding way. “You’re not. This does help.”
“Good. I’m glad.” I pull onto the freeway on-ramp, and divert my attention for a moment. “Let’s talk about how we’re going to handle this when we get there.” I suck my lips in as a car behind me gets closer than I’m comfortable with.
Is this person tailing me?
I swallow the scruffy, dry lump in my throat and a second later, it’s back when the lights on the car behind us flash at me.
The car speeds around me, and I’m flipped off.
“Jeez,” I groan. “Impatient prick.”
“What a jerk,” he agrees.
I shake my head and go back to my original thoughts. “Okay, so at the hotel we’ll probably be on separate floors, but it should be fine.”
My phone vibrates in my pocket. I’m sure it’s a text.
About time. I contacted him yesterday . . .
“We’ll meet up at the Walking Dead panel at Comic Con.”
He chuckles. “I still can’t believe you were able to get tickets at the last minute. But zombies? You’re scared to death of them.”
I sigh. “Oh, Riot, Riot, Riot . . . Lest you forget, I have connections and a fuck-load of money I don’t do anything with other than amass it and put it right back into my company for research on my inventions. It wasn’t hard.” I blow out a puff of air. “And zombies aren’t a concern. I’m armed heavily with very potent sanitizer. I won’t taste good since I’ve got cleansers oozing out of my pores.”
He chuckles. “Nothing’s ever hard for you.” He squeezes my hand. “Must be nice.”
Except Nick . . . He’s very difficult.
“Wouldn’t know. I struggle with everything, but this”—I give one more squeeze of his hand—“you and me as friends—that’s easy. I can do this.”
He smiles but his eyes frown at me.
“It’ll be all right. You’ll see. I’ll make sure you’re happy and well taken care of.” I remove my hand and relax back into my seat.
It’s gonna be a long-ass drive if he’s going to be all mopey.
I turn on some music.
He hums.
I wish this was over already.
* * *
Two hours ago . . .
“Jason, where the hell are you?” I grip my phone tight to my ear.
“I called you hours ago. Don’t get all snippy with me. I’ve been here getting it done for you. God, he better quit being such an asshole after this. If this doesn’t prove to him he’s like a brother to me, then I don’t know what will.” He taps on some keys on the other end of the phone.
“Everyone’s ready then?”
“Yeah. I said I’d handle it, and I have.” He snorts.
“When did he leave? Is he okay?” I pace in the bathroom, locked away, even though I’m on my own.
“Uh . . .” There’s some movement and a few more key strokes. “He left about two hours ago. He should be arriving soon. I don’t know which hotel he’ll pick though. He’s about as predictable as a parachuting gorilla—and those fuckers hurt if they land on you.”
I laugh. “I usually like monkeys rather than gorillas. They’re smaller.”
“And I give a fuck because . . . ?”
I laugh harder. “You’re such a dick.” I sit on the floor since the toilet seat is off limits until I’ve scrubbed that thing down. “I’m not worried. The chip will make him come here. Just make sure the front desk sends him to the correct room, all right?”
“Yeah, yeah, boss. I got it. Stop worrying. Jesus, I thought he was a pain in my ass, always hovering and micromanaging. You’re a hundred times worse.” He ends the call.
“Fuck you, and your little dog, too. Toto’s hotdog meat, pal.” I shove my phone in my pocket.
When my head stops racing as it goes over all the details, I get out my kit and start sanitizing the shower and toilet.
After I’m done, I take a long, hot soaking shower and get ready. It’s silly, but I want to look nice for this event.
He probably won’t notice since I’m sure I’ll still look like I wandered in off the street, but at least I can smell nice.
I apply some light makeup and even blow dry, then straighten my hair. Rarely have I used these items, but I can manage.
I pull on my sexiest pair of jeans I own, some new shoes I picked up a few days ago and even go so far as to put on a purple blouse for him. A little color won’t kill me, and I want to stand out a little so he’ll notice me if it comes down to him being in the crowd.
When I’m presentable, I call up my other accomplice.
“Get his door open, please. I need to get in there.”
“Sure. I’ll be right over.” His deep voice fades, and the line goes dead.
I sit on the edge of the bed and take several deep breaths.
How much longer ‘til he’s here? I can barely stand it—this waiting’s killing me.
A few moments later, I head over to what will be his room. I set the supplies in place and make sure they’re hidden from view.
I leave as quickly as possible so my scent won’t linger. He can’t know I was here, or this will be over before it’s started.
When I get back to my room, I go back to handling his invention.
I search the Internet for signs he’s working on it, but he’s abandoned all his Dropbox accounts, and according to my sources, he hasn’t been online in weeks.
Has he given up on all his wonderful ideas?
&
nbsp; A part of me dies inside over thinking he might doubt his genius, but another part hopes he has dropped it for a while so I can do this thing for him.
I want this for him more than he can possible know.
A few more hours and invention “White Flag” will be complete.
A few more hours and operation “Ides can sleep” will be underway, too.
Thank God. I can’t wait for both of them.
My eyes can’t go much longer.
“Ides, open up. It’s me—Riot.”
There’s a faint knocking at my door.
I hide my laptop away and answer it.
“Come on in,” I say, stepping aside.
“That animal, Jason, shanked me in my room. Take a look at this!” He extends his left forearm, and there’s a scratch there.
“I can barely see it. You sure it was Jason and not your allergies acting up to the detergents they use on your linens in your room?” I squint and examine it.
“Not funny!” He drops his arm and his lower lip juts out.
“I told him to handle this, so he is.” I turn away and head over to the window, watching for some sign—anything to say Nick’s on his way or is arriving right now.
“He took my phone, my laptop, all of my personal electronic devices. I’m dead without them. You know this! Call him up and get them back,” he says, keeping his distance.
“You won’t need them. We’re going to go get throw-away phones right now. As soon as you’re away from this place, you can have whatever you like.”
“I want my old stuff back,” he says, voice cold and low.
“Not happening.” I turn around and cross my arms over my chest, staring him in the eye. “It’s too dangerous. Besides, he’s probably already disintegrated them. They don’t exist, and neither does Chad Thayer or Riot. You’ll have a new identity. A new life—a much better one.”
He keeps pouting, and his face reddens. “Fuck you. This isn’t okay!”
“You’re welcome.” I march toward him. “Take my hand. I’ll only offer it once. Take it, and we’ll start this new journey together. It’ll be worth it in the end.”
He sucks his lips in and stares at the door, past me. “I didn’t want it to be this way. It’s not too late. We can go back.” His voice is distant and eerie sounding.
I pull the door open. “No one wants it to be this way, but it’s the best I can do. I shouldn’t’ve ever let you be a part of my life. I knew that then, and I know that now. This is my fault, and for that, I’m sorry. I’m fixing this now. No more pain. You run this once, and then you’re free.”
“Free of you?” His eyes water, and his lips twitch.
“Yes.”
“No.” He grabs my hand.
“Yes, Riot. It has to be this way.” I remove my hand from his.
He leans forward for a kiss, but I jump away from him. “It has to be this way because of him, not because of you or me. This is Nick’s fault, not yours. We were fine until he came along. We can be fine again without him,” he says with a slight emotional hitch in his voice.
“Not gonna happen. I wasn’t fine then, just good at covering it up. I’ve missed him since I was fourteen and had to leave. I searched and searched, finally finding him. It wasn’t until he came back I felt okay again. There was nothing fine about me. With him, I will be. And you’ll be better without me, too.”
A tear streaks down his cheek, and my chest caves in on me. “Don’t cry. Please. I can’t take it.”
“How am I supposed to pretend I don’t love you and that it’s not ripping me apart inside to leave you? I can’t just walk away. You can’t ask that of me.”
“I have to,” I say, stepping out into the hallway. “All I can do is take these first few steps with you. Where you go afterward is entirely up to you, as long as it doesn’t coincide with my path.”
“I hate this,” he murmurs.
“I know you do. And I’ll say sorry again, because I am.” I lead the way down the hall.
His steps are slow, but they’re happening, so I can’t complain.
“You’ll be better soon, I swear.”
He huffs. “That’s not a promise anyone can make, least of all you.”
I place a hand over my heart so it’ll quit trying to leave me since I’m harming my dear friend.
When we get in the elevator, he corners me and puts both hands next to my head. “I love you, Ides.”
“Don’t.” I shake my head and look down.
“I love you. Listen to me for once. You love me, too. I can feel it. Maybe it’s not overwhelming for you like it is for me, but it’s there.” He steps closer and his hips move side to side.
“It’s not there and never was. I don’t feel anything more for you than I would a cousin or a brother. That’s not going to change over time,” I say, using a gentle tone. “You have to back away from me. You know I can’t stand people being in my space, and I don’t want to hurt you.”
“When you realize how bad that man is and how much he’s damaged you, I’ll be waiting, and I’ll hold you until the day we both die. I won’t ever let go.”
I duck under his arm and push the button for the ground floor again.
When the bell dings and the doors slide open, there’s Nick, looking worn out and eyes sagging as he faces the hotel concierge at the check-in counter.
My heart squeezes so tight my vision blurs for a moment. Nick! I’m here!
This wasn’t how I’d intended for this to happen, but if he sees us, it’s fine. I’ll deal with it.
I step out of the elevator car and Riot follows after me.
He seems oblivious to Nick’s presence, which I can barely fathom since every cell in my body is on hyper-alert around that man.
Nick speaks with the hotel employee and we pass by undetected as we exit out of the building.
“When we get our new phones and I’m supposed to be someone else, that doesn’t mean I turn into some man that doesn’t know and love you,” Riot says at my side. “I won’t ever stop being here for you.”
“I know you want to, but things have changed even if you won’t.” I walk faster.
Thank heavens there’s a cell phone store half a block away within walking distance.
He’s making my heart hurt so badly I might not make it much longer.
Chapter 18
Vapor
“Shhh . . .” A soft hand covers my mouth, waking me after falling asleep for the second time.
I jerk around, and as I try to kick away whoever’s next to me, their body follows along with me.
And the next thing I know, I’m cuffed to the headboard, a gag’s around my mouth and I’m blindfolded.
I couldn’t see who it was, since it’s dark.
But they’re breathing hard.
I yank at my wrists, but I’m not going anywhere.
“Listen,” they whisper.
I’m not even sure if this is a guy or not. They’re dressed all in black and my vision was blurry.
I kick my legs, bang my back into the headboard, thrash and try to be as noisy as possible.
They grab my legs one at a time, and ropes now surround my ankles and stretch me out so I can no longer be loud with my body, flailing around.
I choke on my anger, and scream as loud as I can, but it’s muffled and comes out a garbled mess of gibberish.
My head slams back and forth.
“Shhhh . . .” They touch me. It’s light and seems hesitant even though they’re wearing gloves.
I go rigid and stop moving around so violently.
The hand checks my cuffs, but for what I’m not sure.
It seems like they’re ensuring they’re not biting into my flesh and doing damage.
“It’s for your own good,” they whisper.
I whimper a dying moan.
Is it her?
I can’t tell.
And then click . . .
A door closes, and fuck! I’m alone. Left like this until w
ho knows when?
Until the cleaning crew finds me tomorrow in the late morning hours?
The remote’s still in my pocket. I can feel it up against me.
If it was Dena, wouldn’t she have taken it with her?
Christ! I’m so fucked.
For an interminable amount of time, I drift in and out of sleep since I can’t do anything else.
My arms are numb, and my feet try to move every few seconds to keep me aware, but what’s the point?
Cliiiick.
The door opens, and I’m shaking now.
What if this is one of Dad’s men, messing with me?
What if they tied me up to make me piss myself before they off me?
And what if they go after Dena since I disobeyed him?
My cuffs are released, and before I punch a fucker in the face, or try to, since I can’t see, my wrists are bound together with some kind of rope.
My ankles are released next and I’m heaved over some big guy’s shoulder.
“Fuck, he’s heavy,” the guy whispers with a groan.
“Shhh . . .” the same voice from before says.
I go limp and desperately try to see out of the bottom of the blindfold, but they’ve used one that’s thick and solid—I can’t see a fucking thing.
“Where do you want him?” the guy carrying me asks. He’s using some creepy Batman scratchy voice. It’s disturbing.
He shifts his weight, turns, and the ambient temperature of the room changes.
I think I’m in the hallway now, but I can’t tell.
There’s a metallic scratching sound, and then another door opens.
A few steps, and I’m dropped onto another bed.
I’m spread out on the mattress again, and as I fight and kick, hands try to soothe me before securing me into place.
Only this time, I’m face down.
I whimper as my hair’s pulled and something cool and metal is poked into the back of my neck.
Cliiiick, cliiiick, cllliiiiick!
Shit! Is it a gun they’re cocking?
Then they do the same thing to my inner arm.
Why would they do this?
Something sharp slices into my arm. I grunt and sob at the pain.
A second later, something warm and stinging, is placed over the wound.
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