by Suki Fleet
Cai glanced at him, his distress a tangible thing. Nicky could feel it like cold fingers on his back, and he hated that he was part of the cause.
The waiting was unbearable. Cai tried to call again. Nicky couldn’t decide which was worse—the endless quiet ringing of the unanswered phone or the silence as they waited for a text that was never coming.
The sky was night.
“Phone the library to check they’re definitely not there,” Nicky said, turning the ignition and bringing the van jerking to life. His next words were so heavy in his mouth he could hardly say them. “We’re going back to the house.”
If there was even the smallest chance Sophie and Loz could end up there, they had to go back. For all Fox Mask had said, Nicky didn’t trust her. And Claudette was Lance’s sister and Lance was… alive.
He could feel Cai’s stare, but he didn’t turn.
Cai didn’t tell him not to go back there, and Nicky didn’t expect him to.
Instead, he concentrated on changing gears, on avoiding the holes in the tarmac near the edge of the lay-by, on the darkly unfolding night. And, without needing to think, even for a second, which way to go, he swung the van back the way they’d come.
In the distance the darkness of the house called to him.
It whispered, You’re so fucking stupid thinking you could just leave, Nicky. This house is going to bury you.
And Nicky knew it was right.
The hollowness inside him ached.
Fox Mask/The Devil Waiting
By the time they reached the bottom of the driveway to Thorn Hall, Cai had called Soph twenty times, and now his phone was dead.
She wasn’t at the library with Loz. The librarian he’d spoken to told him they were just about to close and no one was waiting in the café.
Something inside Cai was dying. He’d put Soph in danger. He hadn’t meant to. As soon as that woman had pointed a gun at him the night they came here, he should have known it wasn’t safe to stay at Thorn Hall. That things were going on here that he had no idea about. Messed-up things. He should have handed himself in to the police after the fire. Accepted it when they locked him up. And yeah, Soph would have been put in a home or with foster carers, and maybe she wouldn’t have wanted that, but she wouldn’t be in any sort of danger at this moment. She’d be safe.
There were so many things he should have done differently. He should never have taken this job in the first place.
Cai glanced at Nicky. At his fine narrow shoulders, his brilliant fiery hair, his sharply featured face, set with an expression that was a stubborn mixture of determination and fear. And so much courage. The courage to go back and face what he feared to protect another.
How could Cai regret any of this?
He closed his eyes.
He was in love with Nicky. So in love. He’d tried to say it but Nicky hadn’t wanted the words. Had Nicky felt the connection between them? The intensity had burned when they fucked. It had left Cai raw and full of hope. Desperately, he tried to hold on to that feeling.
They neared the house. With every bump and pothole, Nicky grew tenser. Wavy yellowed light glowed in the downstairs windows. Claudette must have been equipped with hundreds of candles to deal with the dark, though why she lived without electricity when she had all that money, Cai didn’t know. Or maybe he did. That other woman had said Lance had done the same things to Claudette as he had to Nicky. Maybe for longer. But Cai couldn’t think about any of that now.
Where are you, Soph? A part of him wanted her to be here, just so he knew where she was; the rest of him frantically hoped she wasn’t anywhere near the place.
They rounded the last bend, and just where the driveway straightened out, the van skidded to a halt. Instinctively, Cai threw his hands in front of him to stop himself slamming into the dashboard. For a brief moment the pain in his head was blinding. He opened his mouth to ask Nicky what was wrong, but then he saw the dark shapes of two cars parked next to the house. Nicky’s fingers scrabbled around on the dashboard for half a second before he killed the lights. Then he yanked the keys from the ignition and the labouring chug of the engine died. All Cai could hear was his fast, shallow breathing.
He reached for Nicky’s hand and gripped it tight. “Lance?” he asked after far too long.
Staring straight ahead, Nicky nodded stiffly. “And Cyril.”
Cai could feel Nicky shaking. “Think they saw the headlights?”
“I don’t know.”
“We should call the police.”
“They’ll arrest you,” Nicky said immediately, turning.
“If Soph and Loz are here…. We have to. This is a bit bigger than me being arrested.”
“No. No it’s not. Don’t you see? They have money, they’d pay people off. Lance must have faked his death. That ambulance was real. If they want you blamed for the fire, you’ll be blamed for the fire. I don’t want you to go to prison. I can’t do this on my own.” He let go of Cai’s hand and turned away. “I don’t want to fucking feel like this.”
“Like you care about someone? It’s okay. If it wasn’t for Soph, I wouldn’t—”
“You don’t get it, do you? I thought he cared for me. My whole world was based on that. And it was a lie. A fucking lie that messed with my head. He was killing me. And I was letting him.” Nicky’s voice was an awful broken whisper. “I can’t do this. I’m not right in the head.”
“You were drugged.”
“And now I’m not, and I’m still fucked up. I’m always going to be fucked up. I’ll hurt you. When I’m angry I’ll be a fucking bastard to you, because that’s who I am now and that’s when it shows. And I’m always angry. You were right, I’m not nice, Cai. I’m a selfish fucking bastard and I’m not worth it.”
Cai gripped the back of Nicky’s head and knocked their foreheads together, wincing as pain lanced through his skull. “I never said I wanted nice. I want courageous. I want kind. I want you. Be a bastard when you’re angry, because as long as you’re my bastard, I don’t care.” Cai pressed his lips to the corner of Nicky’s eye, tasted the salt there. “Help me find Soph and Loz.”
They left the van in the driveway, parked just around the bend, out of sight, and headed for the deeper dark of the leafless trees.
Half walking half running, Cai tried to move without jerking his head too much. But every step had him gritting his teeth and pulling on every reserve of determination he had left. Nicky was probably right about prison, but calling the police was still Cai’s best and only idea. But they needed a phone to call the police and they didn’t have one. Cai’s had died and Nicky’s was somewhere in the study.
“We can get to the study,” Nicky said. “That window’s a piece of shit. I always thought someone would break it. I didn’t actually think it would end up being me.”
Nicky’s eyes were shining in the gloom. Cai could see he was trying to smile. Trying to get them both through. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever known, Cai thought, his heart blown wide open. How can you think you’re not worth it?
My bastard
As long as you’re my bastard, I don’t care.
It was stupid sometimes, the words that stuck in your head. The ones that meant something. Everything.
I love you held no power. People said it to their most casual friends, easy as holding a hand up and waving goodbye. The words were pretty and weightless. Paper birds. But Cai, back in the damn van, had reached inside Nicky’s chest and fucking squeezed his dry dusty heart, dug his fingers in and claimed it. And as they ran through the hushy woods, Nicky still couldn’t breathe, still kept running mental fingers over the words, savouring their shape and taste and texture. Knowing whatever happened he had this. He had him. And Cai was worth a million fucking paper birds.
All the light was at the front of the house. Downstairs. The entrance hall, the dining room. The study was as dark as it always had been. Upstairs, a thousand lights could be blazing and they’d never know because of the
black paint on the windows.
Cai was struggling to keep up and Nicky wondered how he was going to keep him outside and away from danger. If Sophie and Loz were here…. Nicky closed his eyes, his hands pressed against the cold stone of the house outside the study. Please, please don’t let them be here. Please let them be kids who’ve fucked off for a while and not told anyone. But they wouldn’t do that, either of them. They loved Cai. They knew he’d worry and they wouldn’t want him to.
Something was wrong. Something was definitely wrong.
It was impossible to see anything inside the study, but one glance and Nicky knew it was empty. He could feel it. Just as he could feel Cyril pacing and ranting somewhere, and Lance, fingers steepled, sitting in an armchair, watching. Waiting.
Sucking in shaky breath after shaky breath through tightly gritted teeth, he tried to calm down before Cai reached him and saw how badly he was trembling.
He would be a motherfucking meditation sensation.
Cai loped across the muddy ground. Cai was not okay. People who were okay did not curl their lips back from their teeth and grimace with every step. Nicky wanted to force him to sit down in the leaves and stay there, but Cai was busy pulling it together with his infinite reserve of calm determination.
Coming to a halt beside Nicky, he peered inside. “How are we going to break—”
Nicky tapped at the glass with a sharp stick he’d picked up. It didn’t break. He tried again, harder.
Cai sighed. “Give it here.” He barely had to touch the glass and a crack appeared.
Nicky pulled off his jumper and wrapped it around his hand, and carefully and quietly, they unpieced the window, Cai cracking it and Nicky lifting the broken pieces free. They laid the glass and the top half of the rotten frame on the ground. Then Cai gave Nicky a boost through the narrow opening.
The scent of wood smoke hung in the air, mingling with the dust, the mustiness, everything that Nicky had cast off a few hours ago. It was all so familiar, and yet, so different now. Nicky was different now.
The door to the study hung wonkily open. He tried to pick out the hum of voices he knew had to be speaking somewhere. But the silence hung heavy in his ears, so all-encompassing, it smothered him.
“I’m not going to fit through there,” Cai whispered from behind, as Nicky crept across the room, winding through the maze of chairs.
There were so many fucking chairs. He couldn’t even remember why he’d dragged them all in here. He must have been out of his mind. He probably still was. Going through withdrawal without admitting to himself that’s what it was, was super fucked up.
Nicky stopped and turned. “I know. Wait there. I’m just going to listen by the door, see if I can hear any voices, then I’ll find my phone and we’ll go.”
“I’m going round the back.” Cai’s face vanished from the window.
“Cai!” Nicky darted back across the room, banging his hip twice.
Not caring about the sharp glass edges still left in the bottom of the frame, he leaned out of the window. Cai was indeed heading to the back of the house. “Wait!” Cai turned. He was only a few steps away. “Please.”
Somewhere an owl hooted.
Cai’s folded his arms across his chest. “I don’t want you to be in there on your own. I’m not standing by to watch while you put yourself in danger.”
“Listen,” Nicky hissed. “I’m a fucking coward. I’m not putting myself in danger. I promise. Just wait here while I get my phone and I’m coming back out, okay? Right now. Just wait. Please.”
He waited until Cai nodded and took a step towards him before turning back to the room. His phone could be anywhere. It wasn’t like he used it or kept it close once Cai was here with him every day. Though of course Cai had picked it up and taken it to the van to charge it whenever he saw it lying around. Because he was annoying like that.
Nicky almost smiled. So fucking annoying.
The phone wasn’t in the van now, which meant it was definitely here somewhere. He peered at the desk, quietly opened a few drawers, then spotted it out the corner of his eye on the bookshelf next to his head. He picked it up and switched it on.
It beeped. Loudly. Clearly. Like a fucking fire alarm.
Heart in his throat, Nicky clamped his hand over the phone’s speakers as it continued to make a whooshy electronic sound. He couldn’t for the life of him remember how to turn the shitting sound off. Then it stopped.
There was a soft click. A door opening somewhere. Someone had heard. He was sure of it. Nicky froze.
For a dozen heartbeats, the silence closed in around him. He dared not even breathe. He could see Cai’s head, unmoving, framed against the night beyond the window, but not his face, not his expression, but still he stared. He stared because Cai was the one reason he wasn’t curled up on the floor.
Another heartbeat. Another second. Nicky took a shallow gulp of air.
No one had heard anything. They’d have come right here if they’d have heard. All Nicky had to do was get back across the obstacle course of a room to the window and climb out. He unclenched his hands. Shook them out.
Outside in the corridor a floorboard creaked. Then another.
Panic flicked tiny wings against his skin, inside his chest.
Outside, Cai was frantically flapping his hand.
What the fuck was that supposed to mean? Come on?
Easy for him to fucking say when his legs weren’t filled with liquid lead. Nicky forced himself to take a step.
And then he heard it. A cut-off gasp. A voice pleading no. A young girl’s voice. Fox Mask wouldn’t plead like that. She would spit in Lance’s eye and sneer. And Claudette… well, he doubted Claudette would make a sound. It had to be Sophie.
Nicky eased himself around the desk. The weight of silence after that tiny plea was going to crush him. There were no more creaking floorboards, no more doors clicking. Nicky could make it to the window. He could climb out and run back to the drive with Cai and they could phone the police from the relative safety of the van while Sophie, or Loz, had something vital and important taken from them.
Nicky reached the window. He passed Cai the phone.
“Come on! Hurry!” Cai whispered, taking the phone and gesturing imploringly, eyes big.
Cai wouldn’t have heard the sound out here.
Nicky swallowed. “I’m your bastard. Don’t forget that. Ever. Okay?”
Cai stilled. “Don’t. Nicky. Don’t.” The last word came out a strangled whisper.
The thin moonlight caught the light in Cai’s eyes as he shook his head and held out his hand.
Nicky stepped back. Even though all he wanted was to reach through that window, to feel Cai’s warm, strong hands on him, it would only make this harder. Too hard. Impossible.
It was Nicky they had come for. Cyril, Lance, Claudette, even Fox Mask. The fire, the gun shot, and now Sophie and Loz’s disappearance. All of it was because of him. Why? He didn’t know. Because he was supposed to be dead? Because it was a game? Whatever it was, it didn’t really matter.
Nicky had no plan. There was no plan to be had. This wasn’t a fight he was going to win. What could a skinny, broken coward do anyway?
He could refuse to go quietly. He could refuse to give in. He could try and stay alive to keep them busy until the police arrived. He could hope that would be soon.
It was all he had.
“Call the fucking police,” he said, then he pulled off his shoes and turned and ran, knocking aside chairs as he went, shattering the silence and calling attention to himself in every way that he could. When he reached the study door, he took hold of the handle and slammed the door behind him so hard the wood cracked in the frame. Then, in the blackness of the corridor, he tipped his head back and yelled Lance’s name.
The Plan, Loz
A single lonely siren bleated through the static hum of the estate and died away.
Lying on the cold wet grass near the road, Loz stared up at the stars
. The sky was so crazily big and spacey, nothing seemed real. Some guy was standing on the pavement a few metres away, arms folded, looking pissed. He was the one who’d eventually called the police after Loz had battered their aching fist against his door and refused to stop until he picked up the phone. Pissed but parental, from the way he was watching. Like some scary angel guarding the world’s potential troublemakers until the police arrived.
Loz had always been trouble. That’s what everyone at home always said. Just not this sort of trouble. Not the right sort of trouble. More the sort of trouble no one wanted to talk about. The sort of trouble that made them uncomfortable. If Aunt Patsy could see Loz now, she’d be so damn proud.
Loz blinked. The stars went out. Time seemed to be tripping over itself, fast slow, fast slow, things needed to be happening and they weren’t, then they were, and Loz felt weird and unbearably sad. The nightmare wasn’t stopping. Soph was still gone.
A rustle of clothing. A police officer in a thick bright coat loomed over, blocking out the stars. Blue lights flashed quick, strange patterns across the grass.
When had that happened?
The police guy said something, but Loz hadn’t been paying attention.
Instead, Loz said, “I need to speak to Detective Michaels.” Talking felt strange.
“What’s your name?”
“He said I should call, whenever. It’s important. An emergency. It’s about his case.” Loz wasn’t sure telling him Soph had been abducted was the right thing to blurt out, even if that’s what Loz had told Pissed Parental Guy to say when he’d called the police. What if Police Guy didn’t believe it? What if Police Guy decided a trip to the station was best and carted Loz off? It would all take too long. It wasn’t worth the risk.
Michaels was the only one who would believe it.
Police Guy brought his radio up to his mouth. His name badge wasn’t on his coat. Or if it was Loz couldn’t see it. He said his location, then, “Michaels on duty? … No … Not given me a name.”