END SCENE

A.V. SHENER

Copyright © 2024 by A.V. Shener
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the publisher
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Printed in the United State of America.

Paperback ISBN 978-965-92994-8-5
First Printing 2024

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, events, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Editor - Diana Hockley

Cover illustration - Ido Paz

AUTHOR’S NOTE

End Scene is meant for a mature audience.

The book contains descriptions of explicit violence and sexual activities that could make some readers uncomfortable. This book is not for the faint of heart.

The story takes place in 1992 (the past) and 2006 (the present).

OTHER BOOKS BY THE AUTHOR

Chaos in my Wake

Unbreakable Ties Trilogy:

Our Deadly Reunion

The Gentlemen’s Club

Let it Burn

“Man I'm gonna get outta this town

Man I'm gonna get outta this pain

Man I'm gonna get out of this town

Outta this town and outta LA.”

- Beth Hart, LA Song

CHAPTER ONE

2006

“Jonah. Yo, Jonah, wake up.”

I opened my eyes with a start. “What?”

Nick was a blur as my eyes adjusted to the light. “I’ve heard you talking in your sleep before, but this was a full-on monologue.”

I closed my eyes and rubbed my damp face, my heart gradually settling down. “Sorry.”

“You said some weird things.”

“Let it go, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

I cracked open my eyes when he shifted on the bed before rising to his feet.

“You can go back to sleep,” I said, hating feeling embarrassed by something I couldn’t control.

Nick turned around, his bare chest covered in shadows from the blinds. Even fresh out of bed, he still looked handsome and very young. “I better get back home to go over my lines.”

I stretched my stiff body. “You know them better than whoever wrote them.”

He snickered as he started to dress. “Thanks for going over them with me. I was okay, right?”

It felt strange being asked about anything acting-related, but I tried not to overthink it. “You were great. Just remember to enjoy the audition; they can sense if you’re not having a good time.”

“Enjoy it? Unlikely.” He sighed dramatically. “Greg from my acting class already snagged a shitty pilot, and Sarah did two tampon commercials. Two! This audition could be my big break.”

The hope in his voice pulled me back fifteen years to the early 1990s, when it was me who relentlessly pursued my big break. At one point, I had been naive enough to believe I had found it.

I shook my head to derail the memory train. “Want a sandwich for the road?”

“Jonah Carter, are you spoiling me?”

“It’s just a sandwich.”

“Empty carbs is what it is!” He hurried out of the room as if I’d offered him poison.

I exhaled and glanced at the clock next to my bed, my stomach churning at the sight of the date. Two more days. It felt like a ticking bomb, though I wished it would detonate already, because the waiting was its own torture.

I got dressed and stepped into the living room, wincing against the sunlight.

“I’m making myself a sandwich,” Nick said from the kitchen area with his back to me, his blond hair messy.

I crossed my arms. “What about the carbs?”

“Are you calling me fat?”

I didn’t bite.

“You have plans today?” he asked.

“I’ll head over to the studio soon.”

“Really? On the Lord’s Day?”

“The Lord is welcome to pay my bills.”

“Come on, you can’t be that broke.”

I took a breath to compose myself, but his words stung.

Nick quickly turned around, blushing. “Shit, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sure you’re not broke.”

I glanced at the hefty sandwich in his hands. “I can afford more bread if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Still blushing, he said, “I’ll cook something nice for us next time. I can get stuff from the organic store next to my apartment.”

That sounded too much like a date, but I was groggy enough to say, “Sounds cool.”

He finished making his sandwich, then turned and watched me like he had something to add.

“What is it?”

“Those things you said in your sleep.”

I drew a breath, digging my nails into my palms. He didn’t know the minefield he was treading on.

“Was it a memory? You talked about cameras, and—”

“Nick, I don’t remember. It was just a bad dream.”

“Sure, yeah. Sorry.”

He left shortly after in his nice car, raising a trail of dust as he drove down the dirt road from my house.

In the distance, LA’s outskirts were a faraway picture, the sun rising in the cloudless sky. I couldn’t see the city’s skyscrapers from out here, but I could picture them perfectly.

The city of dreams.

And my downfall.

*

The drive down the mountain was the usual bumpy hell, but that was on me for choosing to live in the middle of nowhere. Back in the day, there were plans to turn this mountain into a thriving neighborhood, but the topography had ended up being too challenging. Other than my small house, there were only a handful of others scattered across the mountain, but I didn’t know anyone.

Once on a paved road, I headed toward my studio in Anaheim. This being the Lord’s Day and relatively early, the drive only took thirty minutes. I parked in front of the old industrial building that had been my second home for the last eight years. New buildings kept popping up around the area, replacing what wasn’t chic enough to remain standing.

The first floor of the building was occupied by unknown bands, while the upper two floors were used by less noisy artists. I climbed the stairs instead of using the creaking elevator, enjoying the rare Sunday’s silence. My studio was at the end of the long hallway on the third and top floor, with a picturesque view of the parking lot.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in.”

“Meow to you too, Jenny.”

I put my bag on the counter and went to kiss Jenny’s cheek. Her ginger hair was tied in a long ponytail with too many hairpins that served no purpose. She seemed to be giving the final touches to her painting, thankfully of a meadow instead of another one of cats.

“You’re not usually here on the weekends,” I said.

“I couldn’t get anyone to join me for an early breakfast, so I might as well be productive. How about you, hon? Gonna finish your latest and greatest today?”

I crossed my arms and examined my messy side of the studio. The three-foot sculpture gleamed under the sunlight streaming through the tall window. I had used copper this time, sprinkling shards of glass here and there.

“I don’t know if today’s the day,” I sighed. “This one’s giving me problems.”

“Is your buyer willing to wait?”

“Yeah, she’s cool with that.” I went over to my side of the studio. Our joint space was large enough to give Jenny and me plenty of room to get lost in our work. I paced around the sculpture. The copper woman stood with one hand resting on her curvy hip. I was satisfied with her posture, which left her missing face the greatest challenge. A facial expression was always a challenge, but I couldn’t even decide on the right vibe.

“Just put a bag over her head!” Jenny called during my pacing.

“Like you do with your dates?”

She laughed. “Honey, at my age, I’m excited if they have a full set of teeth!”

In the end, I gave up on the copper woman for now and used the time to lay the groundwork for my next few projects.

Jenny stopped me at noon with Chinese food. She was usually the one paying since money wasn’t tight for her after her third husband passed away last year. The previous two were still alive but divorcing them had landed her a nice settlement. She didn’t have children, and at fifty-five, she was more active than women half her age. It was pure luck I’d found her ad about sharing a workspace. The studio I’d rented before was a dump. I fell in love with this new space the second I stepped inside, with Jenny being the cherry on top.

My phone rang while we ate on our tattered couch. I put down the box of noodles and went to pick up the call, surprised to see Nick’s number. We weren’t the calling-each-other-to-say-hello kind of fling. I had only slept with him six times, which was the same number of times I’d seen him in my life.

“Hi, Nick.”

“Howdy, handsome. You’re working?”

“Eating now, but I’m in the studio.”

“Cool cool. Just wanted to let you know that they’ve canceled my audition. Turns out they sent an email about it two days ago, but I missed it. All those lines I read were for nothing!”

“That’s a bummer. Didn’t Agatha update you?”

“Nope. I’m sure she was nicer to you.”

Talking about my former agent made me agitated. I hadn’t spoken to her in years—not since I returned to LA and she showed me the door. She happened to be Nick’s agent as well, but LA was smaller than people thought.

“Try not to take her personally,” I said diplomatically.

“Yeah, I know. Anyway, I’m going out with a friend tonight to drown my sorrow. I met him a couple of weeks ago, and he’s taking me out—his treat. Older guys are the best.”

“Thanks.”

“You are not old, Jonah Carter! We look the same age, and I'm pretty sure you’re drinking unicorn blood.”

I smiled despite myself. I had recently turned thirty-six, which meant an eleven-year difference between us—another reason why I didn’t see a future for us.

“Have fun tonight,” I said.

“Well, I was hoping to keep most of the fun for later, at your place.”

I was about to say I didn’t have plans, but I stopped myself in time. Seeing Nick again so soon would move us further down a path I didn’t want to travel, especially with how things had ended with Hayden.

“Nick, I’m busy tonight.”

“Oh, that’s cool. Another night, then.”

“Let me call you, okay?”

I could almost feel Jenny rolling her eyes behind me.

Nick snorted. “Classy, Jonah. I can take the hint.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. I’d been straightforward with him from the start, but I could see how he might’ve gotten the wrong idea over time.

“I just need a few days.”

“Yeah, sure. No big deal.” For an actor, he wasn’t great at masking his feelings.

“Have fun tonight,” I said. “There will be other auditions.”

“There better be. Did I tell you that Sarah got two commercials?”

“You might have mentioned it.”

“Okay. I’m going to drink till I’m in a coma.”

“You do that.” I hung up and slumped on the couch.

“Was that the kid you’ve been seeing?” Jenny asked.

“We just hooked up a few times.”

“You’re going to see him again?”

“Maybe.”

“You are allowed to have more than one relationship a decade, you know.”

“Noted.”

“Oh, before I forget. I have people coming over on Wednesday to be amazed by my work. It can be a good opportunity for you to show off some of your beauties.”

I nodded. “Sounds great. Oh, wait.” My stomach flipped. Wednesday was the day after the yearly visit. I couldn’t commit to anything right after. “I can’t on Wednesday. I’ll be taking a few days off this week.”

She eyed me suspiciously.

“It’s a family thing.”

“You don’t do family things, but I won’t pry.”

She knew me too well, but her memory wasn’t the best, or she might have remembered I’d been taking days off every year at the same time since we met. I got up and wiped my hands on my dirty pants.

“Thanks for the food.”

“Sure thing, hon.”

She left shortly after, and even though she never bothered me, I could focus better in my private realm. I slid my Prodigy CD into the stereo system and lost myself in the bending and reshaping of iron and copper. I should have spent some time making jewelry for my eBay store, but I wasn’t in the mood for brain-numbing work.

The sun had begun to descend when a casual glance at my copper woman made me freeze. Will it work? I hurried to grab a new piece of flat copper and shove it into the oven. With it boiling and softer, I carefully bent the edges to form a round, smooth shape.

Once it cooled, I carefully attached it to the woman’s neck with a soldering iron, then took a few steps back. My copper woman stared back at me through her smooth, featureless head, all hips, curves, and attitude. Under the setting sun, she was a majestic goddess—face or no face.

Content, I locked the studio and drove back to my mountain.

*

The following evening, I decided to call Nick to apologize. Even though I never sold him false promises, I had allowed things to get further than I’d planned, which could make anyone confused. I also liked spending time with him, and I wasn’t exactly drowning in friends; Jenny pretty much filled that role.

I stood about seventy feet from my house, on a ledge that could be dangerous if you didn’t mind your steps. I waited a few seconds for the reception gods to bless my phone, then dialed Nick’s number, immediately going to voicemail.

“This is Nick. Leave a message, and I’ll try to get back to you before I’m too big of a star to answer my calls.”

I snickered and decided to leave a message. “Hi, Nick. I wasn’t trying to be an ass yesterday, and I hope you had fun last night. Let’s talk soon.”

*

I awoke to a headache that threatened to shatter my brain.

Breathe.

But I couldn’t.

My nightmare lingered at the center of my head, clawing at my skull. I sat in bed and held my knees to my chest, trying to use my breathing as a shield, but it was pointless. I needed to call in the cavalry.

Dazed, I stumbled to my bathroom and turned on the light, grimacing as it stung my eyes like a dozen bees. I rummaged through the laundry bag until I found the small metal box at the bottom. I never used to hide it until Hayden started staying over, and the habit stuck even after he exited my life like a passing storm.

I slumped on the floor and opened the box with trembling fingers, then took out a sealed needle and carefully unwrapped it. I bit down on my lower lip and stuck the needle into my arm. The sharp pain was quickly replaced by a sense of relief, flowing through me like a wave. I let out a long moan, my head resting against the wall.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

With my skull feeling less shattered, I slowly opened my eyes. A thin river of blood slid down my pale skin. I carefully pulled the needle out, then stuck it again closer to my shoulder.

That hit the spot.

I stayed on the floor, trying not to feel sorry for myself. I had tried to take painkillers before, but they took too long to work.

Finally stable enough to stand, I pulled the needle out and threw it in the trash. After washing the blood, I stumbled back into bed.

*

The approaching car broke through the silence of my house. I had been sitting on my couch for the last two hours, staring at the wall. I opened the door as the BMW parked next to my old Volvo. There wasn’t enough light to see the driver, so I held my breath until a muscular black man climbed out, his bald head gleaming in the moonlight. I recognized Samuel from the previous two years, feeling relieved since I had had to deal with far worse than him.

“Good evening.” He climbed up the creaking wooden stairs, dragging a thick suitcase and holding a leather bag. His six-foot frame towered over my five-eight.

I moved out of his way and shut the door behind him.

“You have something to drink?” he asked and dumped his gear on the floor. “I forgot you live in a shithole.” He flashed a white-toothed smile. “No offense.”

“What do you want to drink?”

“Beer.”

I went to bring him a can of Budweiser. He cranked it open and took a mouthful. “You’ve cut your hair.”

I shrugged. “I wanted a change.”

“Cool. Help me with the cameras.”

I tried to stay away from any sort of recording equipment, but it felt appropriate to do so now. I took the cameras he handed me and spread them around the living room. In 2006, video cameras were more compact than they had been in the early ‘90s.

Once we got everything sorted and connected, Samuel sat on the couch with his laptop on his lap. I stood with my arms crossed, trying to keep my foot from tapping on the floor.

“You still do art,” Samuel said, eyeing the sculptures on my shelves.

“It’s my job.”

“Does it pay well?”

“Rarely, but I don’t spend much.” I was also lucky to have a few regular clients who I’d never personally met but appreciated my art enough to buy it.

“Let me check your leg.”

I approached Samuel and placed my right foot on the couch next to him, pulling up my pant leg. He leaned to pick up a scanner from his bag, then connected it with a cable to the laptop. After clicking on his keyboard, he pressed the cold scanner to the side of my calf.

I used to have an older tracker inserted underneath my skin, but they had reached out to me four years ago with instructions to go to a motel in Santa Monica. There, a masked man told me it was time to upgrade my tracker. He gave me full anesthesia, and when I woke up hours later, I was alone with my leg bandaged, blood on the sheet.

“Seems fine,” Samuel said, putting the scanner back in his bag. “I’m good to start. If you need to use the toilet, now’s the time.”

I went to pee. As I washed my hands, I stared at my reflection in the mirror, looking paler than usual. Despite my dread, I was relieved to almost be past it. A year of anticipation was coming to a close. Again.

Back in the living room, both the couch and the table had been moved to make enough room. Samuel stood shirtless, his body smooth and muscular. I went to stand at the center of the room, four cameras surrounding me.

Samuel checked his laptop one more time, then clapped his hands. “Okay, let’s get started.”

*

“My name is Jonah Carter. The date is June first, two thousand and six. It has been fourteen years since you let me go. I’m still yours.”

I removed my clothes and turned around a few times, the cameras capturing my every movement. When I returned to face the front, Samuel had already put on his black leather mask. He came to stand in front of me, seeming taller than before.

With my pulse increasing, I reminded myself that I had chosen this. In the grand scheme of things, wasn’t I the lucky one?

Samuel’s fist collided with my stomach, the pain piercing through me. He would stay clear of my face, but everything else was fair game. The next punch hit my ribs. I sank to my hands and knees, the room spinning and my ears ringing like church bells. He moved to stand beside me, lifting his leg for a kick.

Are you seeing this? Is this good enough for you?

Until I finally passed out, my whole world was pain.

CHAPTER TWO

1992

“Say, aren’t you the guy from that movie?”

Hearing that never got old, though I’d been hearing it less frequently in the last few months. “Guilty.”

The girl smiled. “Wow, you were so good at that role! What are you working on now?”

“Hmm.” I cleared my throat. “I’m in the middle of a new project, but it’s top secret.”

She put a hand above her breasts, which seemed brand new. “That’s so cool!”

We chatted some more; a typical shallow LA exchange I’d grown accustomed to during the last three years. But I wasn’t there to chat with random girls—tonight was about mingling with the right crowd, as my agent had instructed me to. According to Agatha, this club, weirdly named “Pickles”, was the place to be in West Hollywood.

I narrowed my vocabulary to “Yeah,” and “Nah,” until the girl got the hint and returned to her friends. I made my way to the bar to browse the menu. As I feared, the alcohol cost like a full-blown meal. After losing multiple roles in the few months, I was living off of my last year’s paychecks.

I ended up ordering the cheapest wine on the menu and went to sit on a red velvet couch. Mingling had sounded easy enough, but the overly posh vibe made me self-conscious. It didn’t help that everyone was in groups, chatting and laughing while drinking their expensive drinks.

Someone sat next to me on the couch. I expected to see another girl, but that wasn’t the case. The first thing I noticed was his smile; how straight and white his teeth were, perfectly positioned between full, rosy lips. His blue eyes were almost gray, striking against his jet-black hair.

“Hello,” he said, and I noticed how close he was sitting. Judging by his long legs, I assumed he was taller than me. “What do you think?”

I frowned. “Think about what?”

He gestured with his hand. “My place.”

“Are you the owner?”

“Indeed I am.”

“Oh, wow.” I straightened. “Why did you go with Pickles?”

He laughed, and I didn’t know a sound could be handsome. When he leaned closer, I recognized his Tom Ford cologne. “It’s a long story that started with a private joke, but I’ll be the first to admit it is a silly name.”

“Doesn’t seem to be keeping people away.”

“That’s true.” He lowered his voice. “I know who you are.”

“You do?”

He nodded. “You’re a fine actor.”

“Just fine?” My ego struck unexpectedly.

He patted my leg. “Acting is like any other muscle; it gets stronger with time and practice. How old are you?”

“Twenty-one and a half.”

He held back a smile. “Well, then, the world’s your oyster.” He took my glass and sniffed it. “Oh my. The cheapest option on the menu?”

I nodded, my face growing warm.

“I know what you’ll like.” He called over a waiter and told her the name of a drink I’d never heard before. Watching his profile, I reckoned he was in his mid-thirties. With his impeccable black suit and alligator boots, he looked more like a movie star than a club owner.

“You’re in for a treat,” he said and leaned back on the couch. I did the same, trying to decide if there was a hint of flirtation in his behavior. I was wearing my straight costume suit tonight—as I did every night. This being the early ‘90s, being a gay actor in Hollywood wasn’t as taboo as it used to be, but I couldn’t risk it. Agatha had been blunt about the difference between what the city portrayed to the world and how things truly worked behind the scenes.

“I didn’t catch your name,” I said.

“Eliot Fitzgerald. And you are the promising Jonah Carter.”

Hearing my name from his mouth spread a sweet feeling in my chest.

The waiter came with our drinks. Mine looked purply and thick.

“Cheers.” I clinked my glass with his and took a sip. The taste of blueberries caressed my tongue, with a touch of bitterness. “Oh, wow.”

He winked. “Told you.”

We continued to chat, and I grew more relaxed around him, and not just because of the excellent alcohol. He asked about my first days in LA and my first acting gigs. I had started with silly commercials and a failed TV show. My big break came in a supporting role in High Life, shortly after signing with Agatha. The film had no famous cast members, but the script was incredible, bringing me to tears the first time I read it. We’d gotten a Golden Globe nomination for Best Screenplay but ended up losing. Between the premieres, award shows, and interviews, I’d been confident that new roles would be coming my way. I’d scored a decent number of auditions, but nothing worked out. I wasn’t superstitious, but I began to worry that someone might have put an evil eye on me.

Eliot stopped me mid-sentence when someone approached us. “What a nice surprise! I haven’t seen you in ages, Steven.” He rose to his feet and hugged Steven-freaking-Nixson! I stared open-mouthed as one of my favorite directors stood within arm’s reach. His movies had never been big at the box office, but they always played at festivals. He was as tall as Eliot but much stockier, his gray hair tied in a ponytail.

“I just wrapped up a production in goddamn Alabama,” Steven said. “It’s time to celebrate civilization.”

“I’m honored you’d consider my club as civilization.” Eliot signaled me to stand. “I’m sure you’ve heard of Jonah Carter.”

I jumped to my feet, heart racing. Steven eyed me as if he were trying to place me in his memory. Eliot put his arm around my shoulders. “Jonah is very up and coming. Better keep an eye out for him.”

I wanted to say something witty, but I lost my vocabulary.

“Nice to meet you, up and coming.” Steven held out his hand, and I hurried to shake it, my wide smile hurting my cheeks.

“I loved Living in the Dark!” I blurted.

Steven crossed his arms. “Oh, did you? Most people hated it. What did you love the most?”

“When Sally decided to stay with Roger at the end and lie to the police.”

He sighed. “That was what people hated.”

“I prefer for characters to make mistakes, like in real life.”

Steven patted my shoulder. “I prefer it as well, Mr. Carter.”

Eliot cleared his throat. “Gentlemen, would you care for a special treat in a place less crowded?”

Steven chuckled like he knew what Eliot had in mind. “I’ll never say no to that.”

“Good. Jonah?”

“Here—I mean, yes?”

“Are you joining?”

“I’m… yeah, for sure!”

The three of us headed to the back of the club. I recognized more faces of less-known actors and filmmakers, none as exciting as Steven, though. I told myself to keep it classy and not bombard him with questions.

Eliot took a turn into a narrow hallway and stopped midway. I frowned as he slid a key into a small crack in the wall. Seconds later, the wall slid aside, revealing a staircase. My excitement overcame my wariness. We climbed down, and I almost lost my footing when the basement came into view. It looked like a movie set from the ‘30s, with Art Deco furniture in black and white and jazz music playing in the background.

We sat around a table with a wooden box at its center. Eliot flipped open the box and plucked out a Cuban cigar. He handed it to Steven and lit it with a golden lighter.

“Have you ever tried one?” Eliot asked me.

“No, but I’ve seen them as props.”

Both of them laughed. Smoke began to spread across the room, making my nose itch.

“I wouldn’t want to corrupt you.” Eliot's tone hinted otherwise.

“I’m not easily corrupted.” I plucked a cigar from the box, sliding it between my lips. With a nod of approval, Eliot lit my cigar. I had smoked a few cigarettes in my life, but this one felt like a chimney. It was a miracle I managed to only cough twice.

Eliot sat and lit a cigar for himself, looking elegant as he casually puffed out smoke. Luckily, the basement had tall windows that helped bring some fresh air inside, offering a dim view of the back alley.

Eliot and Steven dove into a conversation about Steven’s latest production, and I soaked in every little detail, wishing I could’ve taken notes. Eliot tried to include me in the conversation, but I had little to contribute and was more than happy just to listen. I spent hours each week listening to interviews with filmmakers, but this was on a whole other level.

After a while, Eliot asked Steven if he was ready to be spoiled some more. Steven leaned back with his hands on his generous stomach, his smile wide and knowing. “You damn well know it.”

Eliot turned to me, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. “And you?”

I stopped myself from asking what they were talking about. “I’d love to be spoiled.”

Eliot nodded and rose to his feet. “Be back shortly.” He climbed up the stairs and exited the room.

That left me alone with Steven, and the man didn’t waste a second before continuing to talk about his work. I used the opportunity to ask every question I could think of, and Steven answered extensively.

I wouldn’t have minded talking to him until morning, but Eliot eventually returned, accompanied by two beautiful girls, a blonde and a redhead. I watched warily as he led them to the table, then told the blonde, “Steven had a dreadful time in Alabama. He deserves some LA hospitality.”

“Oh, I bet he does.” She walked over to Steven, who slid his chair back.

I gawked as the girl sank to her knees between his spread legs and pulled down his fly.

What is happening?

Steven tilted his head back and moaned. The blonde’s head began to move up and down his cock, and I hurried to look away.

A hand on my shoulder jolted me. “Should I call an ambulance?” Eliot asked. “You seem to be having a heart attack.”

I swallowed and shook my head. “I’m fine.”

“Good.” To the redhead, he said, “Jonah is a new friend of mine.”

That seemed to be enough for her to sink to her knees in front of me. I began to sweat underneath my shirt, my heart pounding. Without asking for permission, she pulled down my fly. In the background, Steven’s moans grew louder, the sound unsettling.

The magical moment we’d shared had all but vanished.

Before pulling out my cock, the redhead looked into my eyes. “You’re pretty like an angel.”

“Hmm, thank you.” Was I supposed to compliment her back?

Before I could decide, she took out my flaccid cock and wrapped her lips around it, her tongue immediately getting to work. I shuddered, telling myself this was happening, like it or not.

Aware of Eliot watching me from across the room, I shut my eyes and placed my hand on the redhead’s head, rolling with the scene.

CHAPTER THREE

The phone started ringing right when I entered my apartment. This is it! I dropped my groceries and ran into my bedroom to answer the call. “Hello?”

“How are ya, Sugar?”

“Hi, Agatha! Did I get it?”

Her long sigh was enough of an answer. My heart dropped to the floor. I leaned against the wall and rubbed my face. “Are you serious?”

“It was very close. They’ll be in contact if something changes.”

That movie would never be a hit, but it could have been my first attempt at a comedy, which I always wanted to try. Not to mention that I was the living definition of “beggars can’t be choosers.”

“Is there anything else?” I half-begged.

“Nothing right now, but you know how quickly things can change. You scored High Life after only two auditions.”

True, but it felt like a decade ago, as my bank account would attest.

“Is there maybe… oh, I don’t know, a commercial that I can do?”

She laughed. “You think it’s easy scoring commercials these days?”

I tried to keep my frustration at bay. “Well, I can’t just sit and wait like a dummy. I’m still taking acting classes, but they don’t come cheap, and they definitely don’t take up my entire day.”

“I hate to be a bitch here, but have you thought about being a waiter temporarily? Maybe a bartender? You’ll make great money once you show them your smiles.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “This wasn’t the plan. After the Globe—”

“Come on, Jonah, you’re a smart guy. A plan? This is Hollywood! Nobody cares about your plan. Just hang in there and keep improving your acting. Maybe talk to Eliot about helping you out. You can’t work anywhere that isn’t chic.”

It took me a moment to process her words. “Wait, how do you know about Eliot?”

“You told me.”

“I didn’t. I tried calling you the other day to tell you about going to Pickles, but you were busy.”

“Well, Eliot knows many people, and one of them must have mentioned it. Think about what I said. Ego doesn’t pay the bills—unless Ego is a sugar daddy. I’ll be in touch if anything comes up.”

“Fine. Thanks.” For nothing.

Even though I’d just gotten home, I needed to clear my head. I entered my car and drove aimlessly around Norwalk, where I lived. I passed by billboards for Batman Returns and Wayne’s World. The year was shaping up to be packed with blockbusters, but that had nothing to do with me. Less than a year ago, High Life was on billboards as well—albeit, only on small ones. But that hadn’t stopped me from glowing with pride.

After an hour of driving aimlessly, I headed back home. My head might have been a bit clearer, but my mood was still in the gutter. I slumped on my bed and let the ceiling fan cool me down.

I debated whether to call Eliot. After my strange and slightly traumatic visit to Pickles, Eliot gave me his home number and told me to keep in touch. He might have just been polite, but I had nothing to lose by trying. I took his number from my wallet and dialed his home, worried he might have forgotten me in the week that had passed since we met. He must be meeting dozens of people every night.

“Hello,” he answered, his voice as deep and rich as I remembered.

“Um, hey, Eliot.”

“Huh, if it isn’t the talented Jonah Carter.”

I sat a bit straighter on my bed. “You recognize my voice?”

“I do, though I tend to remember most people I meet.”

“Oh.”

“Are you disappointed?”

“Well, you also called me talented. Do you say that to most people?”

“I do not.”

“Then I guess I can forgive you.”

He laughed, and my nervousness floated away.

“How are you, Jonah?”

I exhaled. “Can I be honest?”

“I’ll be disappointed if you don’t.”

“I’ve lost a role I wanted.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. What was the role?”

“For a comedy. It sounded pretty dumb, really.” But so did Wayne’s World, and everyone was talking about that film.

“Dumb comedies are not your niche. You should aspire higher.”

“My current aspiration is to get paid.”

“I see. Money’s tight?”

“Very. Hmm, I was actually calling you about that. Do you maybe know of a place where I can work as a waiter?”

He stalled before asking, “Do you think that it’s wise?”

“My agent seems to think so.”

“How is Agatha?”

“Fine, I guess. I only talk to her on the phone these days when she bothers picking up.”

“Well, unlike her, I believe in a more personal approach. I would like to take you out tonight to brighten your mood.”

“Are you serious? You don’t have to.”

“I am well aware of my freedom of choice. Should I pick you up at eight?”

“That sounds great. Aren’t you working, though?”

“Call it an owner’s perk. I’ll see you at eight.”

*

I left my apartment when Eliot honked at exactly eight o’clock. The temperature was mild, so I settled for a short-sleeved button-down shirt and my nicest pair of jeans. I’d spent a bit too long making sure my curls were behaving, but they had a mind of their own.

Walking toward Eliot’s gorgeous turquoise convertible, I couldn’t help but feel like I was going on a date, butterflies flapping in my stomach and all. Only it wasn’t a date, and the last thing I needed was to get into anything with this man, who was clearly way above my league. He must have also believed me to be straight after what happened at his club.

“Hello,” I said as I slid into the car. “Sweet ride.”

“Hello to you, too, and Gloria appreciates your compliment.”

“Gloria?”

He stroked the dashboard fondly.

“Oh, I see. Hi, Gloria. Where are you and Eliot taking me?”

Eliot began driving. “We’re going to a spot close to the ocean, where we will dine and talk.”

I had expected a club or a bar, but this sounded better. “Awesome.”

He sniffed. “You smell nice. Is that the new Jean Paul Gaultier?”

“Yes. I rubbed it on my neck from a magazine.”

He laughed, maybe thinking I was joking. He drove us away from Norwalk with the radio set to an old Motown station. It seemed fitting for him to enjoy such music. I noticed his clothes were less formal than last time, but his elegant blue shirt still complemented his shoulders and lean chest.

“Tell me something about yourself,” he said, lowering the volume.

“What would you like to know?”

“Something that will surprise me. It’s hard to be surprised these days.”

Well, let’s see. The only way I managed to score Agatha as an agent was by swearing not to tell anyone I was gay, and the closest I’ve come to a sexual encounter in the last six months was that blowjob at Pickles.

“My father’s a minister,” I ended up saying. “Back in Kentucky, he’s sort of a big deal if you’re into that sort of thing.”

“That is indeed surprising. You used to go to church a lot?”

“Oh yeah, all the time.”

“Do you still go?”

“I haven’t been since I left home. I had my fill.”

“And what does your mother do?”

“She organizes things for the church like fundraisers and boycotts of books with boobies. I’m not sure if she’s still doing that, though.”

“Am I to assume you and your parents aren’t talking on the phone each day?”

“I haven’t spoken to them in almost three years. They were very vocal about my decision to move to LA.” Though maybe I shouldn’t have told them I was gay during the same conversation.

Eliot glanced at me. “Three years is a long time. Do you have other family members?”

“I’m an only child. I used to be close to my grandmother, but she passed away a few years ago.”

“Was she also of the religious sort?”

“Nanna Ruth? Hell no! I only started thinking of acting because of all the movies she let me watch. She was my audience when I made my plays and tried out costumes. She even signed me up for a library in a different town so my dad wouldn’t know I was borrowing unholy literature.”

Eliot smiled. “I’m sure I would have liked Nanna Ruth.”

“Yeah, she was great.” I sometimes feared what would have happened if she hadn’t broadened my horizons and allowed me to be myself. “So, what about you? Where are you from to be talking all fancy?”

“Do I talk fancy?”

“You know you do. I’m feeling like a hillbilly next to you.”

“I can assure you, as someone who grew up with hillbillies, they would not have accepted you as their equal.”

“Oh yeah? Ain’t my English plain enough for ya, mister?”

He laughed. “Take it as a compliment, Jonah Carter.”

“You can call me Joe.”

“Why on earth would I do that?”

“It’s shorter.”

“I promise I won’t run out of breath from saying your long name.”

“Suit yourself.” I glanced out the window to see the ocean as we began to drive up a mountain. We parked a few minutes later on top of a cliff, the silvery moon the only source of light, glittering over the endless water.

“Here we are,” Eliot said.

I looked around. It was just the two of us out here. “It’s dark.”

“For now.”

We exited the car, and Eliot went to the trunk to take out the things he’d brought.

“Need help?” I asked.

“No need. Go look at the view, but don’t fall—you’re not famous enough for the story to be tragic.”

I laughed and walked closer to the edge, the silvery ocean spread as far as I could see. “It’s beautiful!”

Eliot came closer. “Help me spread the blanket.”

There was almost no wind, so the blanket stayed still once we laid it on the grass.

“Now, for the light.” Eliot placed a lantern a few feet from us. Seconds later, golden light pushed away the darkness.

We sat on the blanket next to a big picnic basket. I peeked inside. “Sushi, yummy.”

“I forgot to ask what you like, so I guessed. Wine?”

“Yes, please.” I was still at the stage where drinking wine made me feel sophisticated, as long as I didn’t drink too much.

Eliot pulled out a bottle. “This one’s a bit strong, but it’s from a good winery in Italy.”

“Well, if it ain’t from Italy, I ain’t drinking.”

“Good boy.” He poured wine into tall glasses. “What should we toast to?”

“Hmm, since you’re the host, we should toast to your health.”

“I’m not eighty yet, so let’s toast to your next big role.”

“Oh, I’ll drink the entire bottle to that!”

The wine tasted rich and strong. I hoped to never learn how much it cost. I took off my shoes and socks, and Eliot did the same. His feet were pale and groomed, as big as his hands.

He opened the basket and handed me a sushi roll. “I never tried sushi before I moved here,” I said after eating two delicious pieces.

“Is it not popular in Kentucky?”

“We prefer our Hot Browns and Burgoo.” I devoured six more pieces before asking, “Do you get a lot of famous people coming to your club?”

“Other than you?”

“I’m not famous.”

“And do you want to be?”

That made me pause. “I want to play roles that people will remember. It’s not about fame.”

He whispered, “Not even a little bit?”

I hid a smile. “Maybe a little. Is that bad?”

“To seek fame? No, as long as it isn’t your only goal. And yes, famous people visit my club, though it wasn’t my intent when I bought the place in the late ‘80s. I enjoy talking to people, and owning a club seemed like a good way to go about it.”

I stopped myself from asking if he usually took his guests out here with a picnic basket.

“You could’ve been an actor,” I said. “You have the looks.” I realized it might come across as flirting, so I hurried to add, “I meant that I could picture you in a movie, and you have a way with words.”

“Thank you, but I’d rather leave the acting to you.” He smiled. “Is there a special lady in your life?”

“Hmm.” My words jumbled in my mouth. I was well practiced in answering that question, but something about him made me more self-conscious. “I’m single,” I said, a bit too stiffly. “I want to focus on my career.”

“I understand.”

Feeling pleasantly full, I lay back with my hands behind my head and my eyes to the stars. Next to me, Eliot did the same.

“It’s beautiful,” I said. “I love it here.”

“I’m glad. And to think, this isn’t even the main attraction of the evening.”

I turned my head to see his profile. The golden light from the lantern made his features more profound—a skillfully crafted sculpture. I stopped myself from saying he was beautiful. “What’s the main attraction?”

His mouth stretched into a smile, making a dimple appear at the center of his cheek. “You’ll find out soon.”

“A hint, then.”

“Nope.”

“Oh, all right.” I returned to watch the endless sky. The soft ocean wind made my curls dance on my forehead. I didn’t want to spoil the moment by bringing up my problems, but I couldn’t ignore why I’d called him in the first place. “Do you think I’m being spoiled by not finding a part-time job?”

He thought before answering. “Do you consider yourself a spoiled man?”

“No, but maybe I’m letting my ego take over.”

“You don’t strike me as the type. I suggest you wait a few more weeks to focus on auditioning and acting classes. If you feel there’s no choice, I’ll make some calls and find you a job in the city.”

I felt relieved to have a logical plan to follow. “Thank you. I’ll mention you in my first Oscar speech.”

“You do that. But until then, I’d like a favor.” Maybe for the first time, I heard hesitation in his voice.

“Name it.”

He tilted his head to meet my eyes. “Would you act for me? Perform some lines?”

“Which type of lines?”

“Anything that will make you happy.”

“Well… I have something, but you need to promise not to laugh.”

“On my honor.”

I pushed myself up and went to stand on the cool grass. “It’s a scene I used to perform for Nanna Ruth. She was into Shakespeare.”

“A fine woman was Nanna Ruth.” He moved to sit with his legs crossed, looking at me intensely.

“It’s from All’s Well That Ends Well.”

“Lovely. And what part will you play?”

“Hmm…” Maybe I should’ve picked something else. “Helena.”

He nodded for me to proceed.

I began delivering my lines, not allowing the awkwardness of the situation to get in my way. I finished with a line that felt relevant to my life. “Our doubts are traitors and make us lose the good we oft might win by fearing to attempt.”

Eliot clapped, his blue eyes glimmering. “Thank you, Jonah.”

I shrugged, hoping that my blush wasn’t showing. “No big deal.”

He rose to his feet and came to stand in front of me, taller by almost a head. I swallowed, sure I was about to be kissed beneath the stars.

“Are you ready to go?”

I blinked. “What? Oh, yes. We can also stay here a bit more.”

He shook his head. “I don’t want you to get too tired. The night is still young, and your gift awaits.”

“A gift?” It felt as if he’d given me more than enough.

He made a mouth-zipping gesture.

I helped him pack everything into the trunk before we drove off, leaving behind a memory I wanted to hold on to for as long as possible.

*

We parked in front of a strip club.

“Hmm, is this where we’re going?”

Eliot killed the engine. “It is.”

Oh, God.

“We don’t have to. I mean, it’s sort of late, and—”

He put his hand on my leg, squeezing gently. “You can trust me.”

Could I?

We climbed out of the car. I didn’t feel comfortable walking around South Central LA at night, but Eliot carried himself like nothing could touch him, and I pondered how little I knew him.

He nodded to the bouncer, and we were ushered inside. The flickering red and blue neon lights gave me a headache, and the loud music didn’t help. I ignored the nearby performances as Eliot led me toward the bar. He ordered us gin and tonic without asking.

“How did you know I like gin and tonic?” I asked.

He leaned close to my ear. “I can read you well, Jonah Carter.”

I beg to differ.

I watched the stage closest to us, where a topless blonde danced to the latest Madonna song.

“Are you done with your drink?” Eliot asked.

I took a final sip. “Yes.”

“Let’s go, then.”

I followed him deeper into the club through overly-excited men. It seemed that he knew where he was going.

“Do you come here often?” I asked.

“This is my first time, but I got instructions in advance. Oh, here we are.”

We stopped in front of a dim hallway with a row of doors on both sides. Eliot led me to the farthest room and opened the door. Inside, a leather chair sat at the center, with a couch to the side. The air smelled of lavender.

“Sit,” Eliot said.

I sat on the armchair with a sigh, guessing where this was heading. If I was lucky, it would end with a lap dance, but I worried about another blowjob. It didn’t take a village to get me hard, but it had required a lot of concentration that time at Pickles.

Eliot stood in front of me, looking down into my eyes. “Do you trust me?”

I didn’t fully, but I nodded, caught in his gaze.

“I’ll be back soon.”

Once he left, I let out a long breath and rubbed my face. Those beautiful moments on the cliff seemed like a summer haze. I wanted to go home, to erase this pointless part from my memory. I didn’t know what I’d done to make him think I’d be into getting blowjobs from random girls. Perhaps it was common courtesy in some LA circles.

A few minutes later, Eliot returned. I straightened, expecting a girl to follow him inside, but Eliot didn’t return with a girl.

My stomach tightened as the unfamiliar man shut the door behind him, looking a few years older than me. He was blond and very tan, his shirtless body gleaming with oil.

“Uh, Eliot…”

He came to stand behind me, his hands on my shoulders. The room was quiet enough for me to hear my rapid heartbeat.

“This is Jack,” Eliot said. “For the time being, Jonah, Jack is yours.”

“What? I don’t—”

He leaned down and whispered, “Didn’t I say I can read you well? Let me give you this.”

I couldn’t speak or think. My eyes followed Jack as he walked to a panel on the wall. Seconds later, the silence was replaced by soft electronic music. Jack stepped closer, his muscles shifting underneath his glittering skin.

He stroked my cheek and smiled, a wet dream of a man.

“I—I’m not sure,” I stammered.

“He’s shaking,” Jack said in a southern accent. I wondered if he’d come to LA to become an actor.

“Then it’s up to you to make him relax,” Eliot said.

Jack nodded and took a step back. He began to move his body in sync with the music, slowly removing the rest of his clothes until he remained fully naked.

Eliot leaned to raise my hand, placing it against Jack’s smooth and oily chest. I swallowed, even though my mouth was dry, and slowly ran my palm across his firm pecs. My erection pressed stubbornly against my jeans as Jack undulated his body like a snake, his arms above his head.

It was unapologetically sleazy, and I was a fly caught in his erotic web.

“Jack, I think that Jonah needs air down there.”

I tensed as Jack reached to pull down my zipper, then lowered my jeans and underwear to release my erection. I didn’t care how exposed I was—I wanted this man—Eliot’s gift to me.

The constant dread of sabotaging my career had made me resent my desires, and it felt so unbelievably unfair.

“What do you want, Jonah?” Eliot whispered in my ear.

“I want…”

“Say it. No one will judge.”

“I want to fuck you,” I told Jack, a tear sliding down my cheek.

Eliot squeezed my shoulders in approval. Without saying a word, Jack went to lean over the couch, spreading his legs.

“Go on,” Eliot prompted when I failed to command my limbs.

I drew a breath, pushed myself from the chair, and turned to look at Eliot. “Will you tell anyone about this?” I never felt more vulnerable, standing with my cock out in front of the man who had unmasked me.

Eliot’s eyes hardened. “I will never tell, Jonah.”

And I believed him with all my heart.

CHAPTER FOUR

2006

The morning after Samuel’s visit, movement was not in my cards. The painkillers kept me from calling an ambulance, but I couldn’t bring myself to get out of bed. When my bladder demanded to be emptied, I maneuvered myself to the edge of the bed and peed on the floor.

I’d received phone calls from Jenny and two suppliers, but I ignored them until my battery died. On the second day, I finally managed to drag myself out of bed. Feeling lightheaded and dehydrated, I shuffled to the bathroom, drinking from the tap until my throat felt less ashy. I continued to the kitchen and forced a bit of food into my hollow stomach.

With those basic survival needs taken care of, I returned to sleep the pain away.

*

Two days later, I sat on my porch, enjoying the afternoon breeze and my latest painkiller. By now, the pain was bearable if I sat still.

The sound of an approaching car cut through the silence. I put down the book I was reading, guessing it was Jenny coming to check up on me. I’d texted her yesterday that I was fine and would be back next week, but it was like her to come check anyway.

The car took a final turn and came into view, but it wasn’t Jenny. I scowled at the police car as it parked in front of my porch. A policeman climbed out, glancing around as if he wasn’t sure he had the right place. I assumed he didn’t.

“Hi there. Are you Jonah Carter, sir?” He had a kind face and a thick, gray mustache.

I nodded. “That’s me.” My voice was hoarse since I hadn’t used it in days.

“I’m Officer Wilson. Sorry to bother you, sir, but I was asked to bring you down to the station for questioning. We tried calling your cell phone several times but couldn’t reach you.”

My phone had been dead for the last few days until I recharged it last night. My thoughts began to swirl. How the hell could I be wanted for questioning?

Officer Wilson said, “I want to make it clear that you are not under arrest or a suspect of any crime, but I was told by the detective not to share any more information. You can take your car, or I can drive you to the station and back.”

Dozens of questions circled in my head, but I settled for one. “Does the detective’s name happen to be Hayden Scott?”

Officer Wilson nodded. “That’s him. You two know each other?”

“Some. Can I go to the station tomorrow?” Another day to heal would go a long way.

“Today would work best, sir.”

I see. I preferred to drive myself to the station, but it wouldn’t be wise in my state. “I’ll ride with you if that’s okay.”

“Sure thing.”

I took a breath and rose to my feet. Despite trying to keep my face expressionless, the pain made me grimace. By the suspicion on the officer’s face, he noticed.

Hayden, what the hell did you get me into?

*

The forty-minute drive passed in silence. The station’s sign read, “Hollywood Station,” but the plain two-story building didn’t possess any star quality that I could see.

We parked close to the entrance, and I followed the officer inside. He led me to the stairs, but before he could start climbing, I said, “I hurt my back recently.”

“No problem.” We walked to the elevator and got out on the second floor. We continued through two gray hallways before stopping at a room labeled Investigation Room #3. It had a table with chairs on each side and a recording device in the middle of the table. A barred window allowed some breeze, but the place was still stuffy. Unlike in the movies, there was no one-way mirror.

“You can sit. I’ll tell the detective you’re here.”

Once alone, I slumped on a chair with a sigh, feeling dormant bruises. Six months had passed since I last saw or spoke with Hayden. Given the bleak way we’d left things, I didn’t expect to see him ever again. I had spent months trying to push him out of my thoughts, but being moments from seeing him again allowed buried memories to resurface.

The first time we met was during a lecture on gay life in ancient Greece, which I attended to experience gay culture after years of staying away from such things. It had reached a point where my loneliness began to affect my mood and my work, catching Jenny’s attention. She pressured me into going out to meet new people, and a history lecture felt like a safe first step.

During the lecture, I absently scanned the room until my eyes landed on a man sitting a few seats from me. He also seemed to be there alone, and even sitting, I could tell how tall he was. He was handsome with his strong, stubble-covered jaw, elegant nose, and tan skin. His brown leather jacket sat nicely on his broad shoulders.

Not wanting him to notice my gaze, I shifted my eyes to the front.

When the lecture finished an hour later, I made my way to grab a sandwich for the ride back home. Having survived an evening surrounded by strangers, I didn’t feel obligated to stick around for small talk. I reached for the last tofu sandwich, but someone moved swiftly and grabbed it before I could. Annoyed, I turned to see the tall man I’d noticed earlier.

“Did you want that?” It sounded more like a statement, which annoyed me further since every other sandwich had meat in it.

“It’s fine.”

“Here.” He held it for me to take.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“But I took it for you.”

That made me pause. “I doubt it.”

“Do you have evidence to prove otherwise?” His matter-of-fact tone made it difficult to tell if he was joking.

“I don’t have evidence at the moment.”

“Innocent till proven guilty, then.” He winked and handed me the sandwich, and this time I took it.

“Thanks. Hmm, why did you take it for me?”

“It seemed like you were about to grab it and leave. I needed to make you wait.”

“Why?”

He didn’t answer; instead, he grabbed another sandwich and gestured for me to follow him outside. I hesitated, but I was also curious. We reached a sitting area with a view of a nearby park and sat facing each other, far enough from other attendees.

“Did you enjoy the lecture?” he asked.

“It was fine, but the speaker was a bit dull.”

“Yeah, he was.” He unwrapped his sandwich. “I was getting bored of watching Seinfeld, so I thought I’d give culture a shot. I’m Hayden.”

“Jonah.”

“You look like a Jonah.”

“What does a Jonah look like?”

“Like you, I suppose. Do you come to these sorts of things often?”

“My first time. I…” I stopped myself from saying I needed to get out more and meet new people. “I also wanted a bit of culture.”

He nodded and leaned back. “So, Jonah, how would you rate our first date?”

I frowned. “This isn’t a date.”

He crossed his arms, his leather jacket squeaking. “An evening out with entertainment and dinner sounds like a nice date to me.”

I shifted in my seat, wondering if that was how people flirted these days. “You’ve just learned my name.”

“And a fine name it is. But hey, no pressure if you can’t rate the date—save it for the next one.”

It was during our “second” date that I discovered he was a cop, and even worse—a detective. My first attempt at socializing in years had led me to a man whose job was to snoop. I knew I should cut it off, but I couldn’t. I also expected him to realize I was an odd bird and fade away on his own, but that didn’t happen. When I eventually allowed myself to accept that he was there to stay, it all came crashing down because of those damn videos.

The sound of approaching footsteps pulled me back to the present. Hayden stepped inside and shut the door behind him, cutting out the station’s hustle and bustle. He sat down, wearing a blue button-down shirt with a black tie. “Who hit you?” he asked as he placed his laptop on the desk.

“What?”

“There’s a faded bruise on your neck, and you sit more hunched than usual.”

Damn his sharp eyes. “No one hit me. It was a stupid accident at work.”

He nodded, but I could tell he wasn’t convinced. “It’s nice to see you again.”

I managed a stiff nod. “You too.”

“You cut your hair. Never thought I’d see you without those curls.”

“They’ll grow back. Why am I here?”

He adjusted his tie, a familiar sign of unease, though his face remained blank. “It’s about Nick Torres.”

That was the last thing I expected to hear. “Nick?”

“You know him.” Not a question.

“Is he okay?”

“He’s missing.”

“Missing? How long?”

“Almost a week. He went out to a party, and that was the last time he was seen. His parents are friends with the mayor, so this case is getting extra attention.”

I felt bad for barely thinking of Nick since Samuel’s visit. “I…”

“Take your time, Jonah. It’s just the two of us here, and I didn’t start the recorder.”

I glanced at the device on the table. “Why would you need to record what I say? I just slept with him a few times.” It came out all wrong. I took a breath to focus myself. “I’ve met with Nick a few times in the last month or so. I called him a few days ago, but he didn’t answer. I haven’t heard from him since.”

“I know about the message you left him.”

Of course he did. “He called me the day before and wanted to meet after he was done with a party.”

“And did you agree to meet him?”

“No, but I felt bad about it, so I left him that message.”

Hayden nodded, not looking surprised by anything I said, yet he did look troubled.

“What is it?” I asked, leaning with my elbows on the table. “You wouldn’t have brought me here just because of that call.”

“There’s something else.”

“Well, what? I didn’t do anything to Nick.”

“Jonah, I’m not your enemy.”

“Then you should have called and asked me these questions on the phone.”

“I tried calling you.”

I crossed my arms, knowing I was acting out of line. “Sorry. You said there was something else.”

He exhaled and opened his laptop. “Yesterday morning, we found something on the Darknet. Ever heard of it?”

“I think so. It’s like the internet, but not really.”

“Sort of. Let’s say that if the internet is a house, then the Darknet is a basement with a maze inside; you might know that it exists, but you’re likely to get lost on your way.”

“Did you find something in that maze that was connected to Nick?”

“Yes.” He turned his laptop to face me, a dark window of a media player filling the screen. “I wouldn’t be showing you this unless I thought it was important.”

I grew numb at the reluctance in Hayden’s eyes. I suspected what was waiting on that video, and it chilled my blood. “Play it.”

For the next three minutes, I silently watched as naked Nick was being tortured while dangling from the ceiling. The young man I’d last seen leaving my house with a big sandwich was covered in bruises. The investigation room filled with his terrified cries and begging. Since the camera focused on Nick, it was impossible to see who else was there, just the occasional hand or a leg that entered the frame.

The video stopped abruptly, leaving Nick’s screams echoing in my ears.

“It’s the same place,” I said before Hayden could ask.

“Are you sure?”

I recognized the purple curtain in the background, and some of the tools on the shelves seemed familiar. It could have been a coincidence, but my gut told me it wasn’t. “I’m sure.”

I prepared myself for a flood of questions, but Hayden closed his laptop and said, “Let me take you home.”

“What?”

“You’re obviously unwell. Come on.”

I got up and followed him outside, confused yet grateful.

*

We drove without attempting small talk. When we reached my house, the sun was about to set, painting the sky in a kaleidoscope of warm hues.

Hayden parked and killed the engine. “You have coffee?”

“Coffee? Yes.”

“Okay.” He got out, and it took me a moment to realize he’d just invited himself over. With a sigh, I got out and walked with him toward my house, trying to act as if I wasn’t in pain, though he’d already figured it out.

“I’ll stay here if you prefer,” he said once we reached the porch.

I was about to invite him in, but then realized what a few minutes of privacy could mean. “Okay, I’ll bring the coffee out. I just need to use the toilet first.”

“Do you remember how I take mine?”

“A lot of milk and sugar.”

“No, it’s—”

“I remember, Hayden.”

I opened the door and closed it behind me. Once inside the bathroom, I reached into the laundry bag and grabbed the small box of needles. There wasn’t much time, but I needed to release some of my anxiety if Hayden was going to shower me with questions—which he was bound to do.

I sat on the toilet and raised my short sleeve, then took a deep breath and inserted a needle into my flesh—deeper than intended. I yelped at the sharp pain, watching as blood began to trickle down my arm. I grabbed a towel and placed it under the needle to soak up the blood.

Peace followed, untangling the knots in my chest. I wished to stay like this longer, to bleed my worries out, but the last thing I wanted was to make Hayden even more suspicious. I carefully pulled the needle out, washed away the blood, and put a band-aid over the puncture mark.

In the kitchen, I quickly made Hayden’s coffee—black with half a spoon of sugar. When I stepped outside, the breeze cooled my flushed face.

“Thanks.” He took the cup and narrowed his eyes at me, but didn’t comment. I’d only used the needles once during our relationship, and I never told him. I’d kept many things from him, though it was starting to change.

I sat next to him on the bench. We had spent many evenings like this, watching the sunset before going inside to eat or to have sex.

“I missed your view,” he said, steam rising from his cup.

“How’s Maya?” I asked, playing my part in this polite exchange.

“Still in Phoenix, but she’s doing well. Just turned eight. She asked about you a few weeks ago. Where’s Curly, Daddy?”

I smiled despite myself. “Say hi from me. Are things okay with your ex-wife?”

Hayden shrugged and took a sip of coffee. “She’s still with that douche of a husband who gets to play father more than me, but we don’t argue at least.”

Hayden was three years younger than me and used to be married to his high school sweetheart back in Phoenix. They’d ended up in LA after Hayden got a job with the LAPD, but when he came out as bi, she left him. She found out she was pregnant shortly after, but they decided it would be best for him to stay in LA.

Hayden finished his coffee and put the cup on the ground. “You’re wounded.”

“I’m fine.”

“Is it your ribs?”

“Let it go, Hayden.”

He nodded. “Then let’s cut to the chase. I still need answers.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Start with telling me where Nick is.”

“Where I was fourteen years ago.”

“Which is?”

“I don’t know. They never told me.”

“Never told you? How long were you there for?”

“About six months.”

“Jesus.” He cleared his throat. “Your videos weren’t like the one we saw of Nick. You weren’t wounded, and you didn’t…. you didn’t struggle like he did.”

A snake seemed to crawl in my guts. “What you saw was recorded after I’d been there for a while. I stopped struggling by that point.” As would Nick.

Hayden leaned forward, tension in his features. “When I got the email with your videos, you let me believe you did them willingly.”

Anger warmed my face. “I didn’t let you believe anything—I just asked you to let it go, to pretend you didn’t see them.”

“And then you told me to leave, that we’re done.”

“I seem to remember a few more words being thrown during that fight.”

Whoever sent him those videos had done so as a warning to me—there was no other explanation. I was dating a detective, and though I’d never been forbidden from doing so, I should have known better.

Had Nick been taken because of me? But why? He had nothing to do with the police.

“I need to know everything, Jonah.”

Of course he did. “You’re putting both of us in danger.”

“How? They can’t be interested in you after all this time.”

I snorted. “Is that why you got those videos of me? Is that why I still have this?” I put my foot on the bench and raised my pant leg.

“What am I looking at?”

I took his hand and placed it on the back of my calf. “Press.”

He did, his eyes narrowing. “Is this…?”

“A tracking device.”

He pulled away as if I’d burned him.

I lowered my leg. “The years that passed mean nothing.”

He lowered his voice. “Can they hear us?”

I shook my head, but it wasn’t like I knew for sure. “It can’t be that sophisticated, though I had it replaced a few years ago.”

“Why would they need to track you?”

“I must stay within the borders of LA. This mountain is pretty much as far as I can go.”

He let my words sink in. “Is that why you didn’t want to join me on a trip to Phoenix?”

“Yes.”

Hayden rubbed his face, paler than I had ever seen him. “Were you ever going to tell me any of this, or were you going to make excuses every time I asked you to leave LA with me?”

I deserved his heated questions. I had been unfair to him from the start, though my plan had been to eventually change that. “I was going to tell you around this time. I first needed to be sure that…” That he loved me more than he loved being a cop, and that he would put aside his duty and let me live my life how I saw fit. “Never mind.”

“We should get the tracker removed,” Hayden said after we were quiet for a while. “Maybe they put it there to scare you, as a type of mind control.”

“I tried to disappear a year after they let me go, and it took them about a week to track me down and drag me back.”

“Did they hurt you?”

“Yes.”

“Have they hurt you recently?” He met my eyes, and I could tell he already knew the answer.

“Someone comes here once a year as a reminder.”

“Of what?”

I dug my nails into the wooden bench. “That I still belong to them.”

“Them being?”

“The Society.”

“I’ve never heard of them.”

“You weren’t supposed to.”

We remained silent while he processed my words, likely trying to walk the fine line between being professional and being my ex. I didn’t envy him.

“I can help you get the tracker removed.”

“Then I’ll be living my life in fear that they’ll catch me. Their yearly visits sound worse than they are.”

His jaw clenched. “Are you fucking listening to yourself?”

“Cool it.” I gave him a hard look. “You know about this for, what, five minutes? Don’t pretend to be my shrink.”

“It doesn’t take a shrink to know when someone’s lying to himself.”

“Don’t patronize me.”

“I wasn’t trying to. Who comes here once a year? We might be able to track them.”

“The one who came here the other day was called Samuel, but it could’ve been a fake name. They send someone else every few years.” I saw no reason to mention that some left after the cameras stopped rolling, while others stayed until morning to keep the party going.

“Every piece of information you can give me could be crucial,” Hayden said. “Work with me here, Jonah; we might not have much time to find Nick.”

“We have time. They’re not interested in something quick. Once they have you, it’s final.”

“Final? Then why did they let you go?”

I should have been more careful with my words. “It was different for me, but it doesn’t matter now. Nick shouldn’t be in immediate danger based on what I know.”

“It’s still not a guarantee.”

He was right. I crossed my arms and forced out my next words. “When I last spoke with Nick, he mentioned going to the party with an older man.”

“Yes, we questioned him. He claims to have left without Nick, and we have the surveillance footage to back that claim. He’s clean.”

I almost laughed at his choice of words. “Was this man Eliot Fitzgerald?”

Hayden narrowed his eyes and nodded.

I couldn’t have been less surprised.

CHAPTER FIVE

1992

“Goddamnit!” I paced around my bedroom after hanging up on Agatha. “Fuck!”

That role should have been mine. For the first time in my life, I had real connections going into an audition. The same executive producer I had worked with on High Life was involved in this new production, and he claimed the role was as good as mine.

What the hell happened?

I slumped onto my bed. This week, I officially went broke, making me regret not listening to Agatha about getting a temporary second job. I was now willing to clean toilets to pay rent.

My phone rang, and I wasn’t surprised to hear Eliot’s voice as he said, “I’m sorry.”

“Good news travels fast.”

“It should have been you.”

“Story of my life. Do you know why I didn’t get it?”

“The director knew someone from previous productions, and he preferred to work with him.”

Figures. Even when I had connections, there had to be someone with better ones.

“I don’t know what to do. I’m scared.” I rubbed my itching eyes, too upset to care how pathetic I sounded. A part of me was angry at Eliot, and angry at myself for being angry at him. But if he hadn’t believed in me full-heartedly, he would have seen the logic in me finding a second job, though one must have a first job to get a second.

“Let’s meet,” he said.

I’d hoped he’d say that. In the last two months, he had become my rock. We saw each other at least twice a week and constantly spoke on the phone. What happened in the strip club hadn’t happened again, and we hadn’t talked about it after that night.

“Where do you want to meet?” I asked.

“You will come to my house for dinner. We have something to discuss, and if all goes well, you’ll spend the night here.”

It took me a few moments to digest his words. I’d never been invited to his house. “Are you serious?”

“Do you know me as a jester, Jonah Carter?”

I smiled like I hadn’t been fighting tears a minute ago. “No, sir.”

“Then you have your answer. Come hungry, please. I’ll send a taxi to get you.”

“I have my car.”

“Save some money on gas. Be ready at seven, okay?”

“Okay. Should I bring anything?”

“Just your charming self and a teddy bear if you sleep with one.”

“Oh, please. I gave up on Captain Bear weeks ago. See you soon.”

*

I got out of the taxi and stared at the huge house in front of me. I’d never been to Echo Park before, and Eliot’s house was one of the more impressive ones on the street with its Victorian style, tall windows, and dark roof tiles.

I pressed the button next to the gate. He buzzed me inside and opened the front door as I approached.

“You look normal!” I called.

He arched an eyebrow. “Meaning?”

“I’ve never seen you in regular clothes before.” He wore a white shirt and gray sweatpants, his jet-black hair still damp from a recent shower.

“Did you think I wear fancy suits in my own home?”

“Yes.”

“Sorry to disappoint.” He hugged me, and I stole a sniff of his hair, which smelled like jasmine. He led me inside, and I whistled in appreciation. Eliot’s love of art was on full display, from the dramatic paintings to the bold sculptures. I made a calculated guess that every one of those items could cover my rent.

“Your house is insane!” I followed him into the kitchen, which was as big as my apartment and cleaner.

“I’ll take that as a compliment. You can put your bag over there. Get yourself comfortable.”

I dropped my bag and shoes in the hallway. “Can I look around later? I want to see everything.”

“You can, just please refrain from going through my underwear drawer.”

“Not much point in me looking around then, is there? What smells so good?”

“We’re going full Italian tonight.” Eliot put a bottle of wine on the tall kitchen table. “We’ll eat in the garden, next to the pool.”

Of course there was a pool. “How can I help?”

“You can start by enjoying a nice glass of wine. You’ve earned it.” He handed me a glass and went to check on the food on the stove.

“I don’t think I’ve earned anything.” But I still fixed myself a glass. I’d grown accustomed to quality wine over the last couple of months and could even distinguish between different types, which pleased Eliot.

“Tonight is about the future, Jonah, not past setbacks.”

I appreciated his use of “setbacks” instead of “failures.”

“How’s your mood?” he asked.

“Dunno.”

“Don’t know. There are two words in there.”

I chuckled. I sometimes used improper English just to have him correct me. “I’m trying not to think too hard about my crappy situation, but it turns out I’m also crappy at that.”

He crossed his arms, his blue eyes holding my gaze. “It’s understandable to mourn a lost role.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve been mourning a lot in the past six months.”

He came closer and put his hands on my shoulders. “How can I help?”

He could have started by kissing me, which would have made everything better. But I’d never do anything to jeopardize our friendship, even though he had become the sole subject of my wet dreams. I didn’t even know if he was into guys; he was vague about that.

“You’re helping plenty,” I said. “I appreciate it.”

“You’re young and ambitious. Just open your mind to different possibilities, and who knows what might happen?” A knowing smile danced on his lips.

My curiosity piqued. “Are you talking about something in particular?”

He walked back to the stove. “You’ll need to wait a bit longer to know more.”

“Come on, you’ve got to tell me! What is it? Can you get me an audition?”

“I can get you dinner if you let me work.”

“I’ll tickle you until you tell me.”

“That would be unfortunate. Take those plates and start setting up the table in the back garden.”

“Oh, fine.”

Standing out back, I could picture fancy dinner parties being thrown in Eliot’s beautiful garden. Thanks to the high gate and dense line of trees, it was easy to feel fully secluded. The swimming pool was large enough for a proper swim, the water lucid and inviting. I imagined Eliot sitting out here in the mornings, drinking coffee while reading the newspaper.

I arranged the plates and silverware on the garden table before Eliot stepped out with a bowl of pasta and a plate of lasagna. He then went to bring garlic bread, a green salad, and a bottle of wine.

“You’ve made so much food,” I said as we sat at the table. I loved the rich smell of tomatoes and cheese.

“You should eat more.”

“Oh, it won’t matter. I’m naturally skinny; it’s gross.”

Eliot rolled his eyes. “Many adjectives can describe you, Jonah, yet ‘gross’ isn’t one of them. Now, let’s fill our bellies.”

Everything tasted heavenly, and not just because Eliot had made this meal especially for me. I couldn’t help but moan in pleasure.

“I think you might be the first man to climax from pasta,” Eliot said.

I raised my napkin. “Good thing I have this.”

He laughed and drank more wine. I loved how he held the glass; the way his long fingers elegantly wrapped around it. It felt as if he’d been born with class, though he’d once mentioned growing up with hillbillies. The few times I’d tried to ask about his childhood hadn’t yielded results, so I stopped asking.

I managed to keep my mouth shut about the “possibilities” he’d mentioned earlier, but it wasn’t easy. I made a rule never to ask for his help with my career—not because I was against pulling strings, but because it might come across as taking advantage of him.

Unable to take another bite, I leaned back and rubbed my belly. “That was bellissimo!”

Eliot nodded. “Thank you. I love cooking, and you are a passionate eater.”

“I’m always hungry. Maybe I’m still growing—I wouldn’t mind.” At five-eight, I was shorter than the typical Hollywood actor, and I hated that. Every little thing could make a casting director choose someone else over you, including an extra inch.

“Do you sometimes throw parties here?” I asked.

“I used to, but they were too shallow to keep my interest. I prefer to keep my social interactions more meaningful these days.”

“Am I a meaningful interaction?” I felt silly once the words left my mouth. It was my insecurity at play, my doubts about what he got out of our friendship, and my fear he’d move on to someone more exciting and successful.

“You, Jonah, are the most meaningful interaction I have.” His smile was genuine, but I caught a trace of sadness in his eyes. I didn’t want to ruin his compliment, so I didn’t pry.

By now, my patience had run its course. “So…” I tapped my fingers on the table.

Eliot nodded and put the wine glass on the table. “There’s a role I’d like you to try out for.”

I straightened, my heart beating faster. “What’s the role?”

“It’s a secret. I can’t give you any more information.”

That might have been a good sign. Big roles were sometimes kept a secret because of the press.

“When can I audition? Do you have lines for me to rehearse?”

“This won’t be a regular audition. You’ll just have to make a good impression.”

“Okay, I can do that. But when?”

“Ever so eager.”

“Oh, you have to tell me! I will tickle you.”

“The director will come here tomorrow morning, which is why I wanted you to spend the night. Once he’s here, all you’ll need to do is be your charming self and follow my lead.”

“Did you tell him nice things about me?”

“I did.”

“Like what?”

“That you ask too many questions.”

Hint taken. “What’s his name?”

“Thomas, but you will refer to him as The Director.”

“A bit pompous.”

“Perhaps, but that’s the way it is.” He clapped his hands. “No more talking about this until tomorrow. Our dessert will be popcorn while we sit and watch A League of Their Own.”

I leaned forward. “Don’t tell me you’ve got it on tape. It shouldn’t be out for another month!”

He winked. “I know a guy.”

I couldn’t stop smiling. I adored that movie and had watched it four times in the cinema. Geena Davis was epic in that role, and even Madonna was decent.

I was about to help clear the table when Eliot asked, “Would you do me a favor?”

I knew what he meant without needing him to say it. “What are you in the mood for?”

“Are you familiar with Death of a Salesman?”

“Are you kidding? I love Arthur Miller!”

His smile was warm and full of appreciation. I loved being able to impress him.

“It’s got one of my all-time favorite lines,” I said.

“Do tell.”

I stood up and approached him, his blue eyes following me. “Why am I trying to become what I don’t want to be… when all I want is out there, waiting for me the minute I say I know who I am?”

He sighed and nodded. “Thank you.”

“Well, I know more lines.”

“I’m sure, but that was all I needed. Now, help me clean up so we can go watch your B-movie.”

I pretended to be shot in the chest. “The disrespect! You wound me.”

Once we took the dishes to the kitchen, I went to change into my sleeping clothes. Sitting shoulder to shoulder with Eliot on his huge couch, a bowl of popcorn in my lap, things seemed much brighter than they had earlier. I was dying to ask more questions about the audition, but I assured myself that Eliot knew what he was doing.

Luckily, the movie was so good that I was able to stay focused despite being so close to Eliot. Once it finished, he said it was time for bed. “Take the second door to the right. I’ll be right there to tuck you in.”

I brushed my teeth in the small bathroom next to the guest room, then went to lie on the great mattress. A nice breeze blew in through the open window, much better than my ceiling fan.

“Already asleep?”

I opened my eyes to see Eliot leaning on the doorframe. He was shirtless, and I was a deer in the headlights. When I opened my mouth, words failed me. He was truly a sight with his pale and smooth skin, his chest well-defined like a swimmer’s. It felt wrong for him to walk around with clothes when such beauty hid underneath.

He came closer and dimmed the light, but I could still see him perfectly. He came to sit on the bed, and I tried my hardest not to stare at his nipples.

“Something specific you want for breakfast?” he asked, his voice a touch deeper than usual.

“Hmm, I’d like a lobster, please.”

“A lobster?”

“And some pizza, but hold the olives.”

“That’s reasonable. And for dessert?”

“You.” I froze. My careless mouth had gone rogue.

“Me?”

I swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

“For?”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

He leaned a little closer. “You need to focus on being incredible tomorrow, Jonah.”

“I will.” My cheeks were on fire, my heart drumming.

“And you will follow my lead and listen to my directions?”

I nodded, noticing that he was leaning even closer, enough for me to smell his faint aftershave.

“Are you ready to go to sleep?”

“I…yes.” Although I was bound to lay awake for hours, kicking myself for being so careless.

“Good. Oh, and about tomorrow’s breakfast...”

“I really shouldn’t have said anything. I—”

He kissed me. It took my brain a few seconds to catch on, but once it did, a wave of happiness washed over me, and I might as well have been floating. I kissed him back, sliding my tongue between his parted lips.

When I tried to sit, he held me down. “Easy, Casanova.”

“Too late. You’ve unleashed the tiger.”

He laughed. “Did I now?”

“Yes. I… I really wanted this.” Not that I knew exactly what this meant.

“I’m aware you did. As you’ve already learned, I know how to read you, Jonah Carter.”

I waggled my eyebrows. “Can you read me now?”

He stroked my cheek as another flash of sadness crossed his eyes. “This is not the time to take this further.”

“When then?”

“After you score that role tomorrow.”

“I’m gonna score it so bad.”

“I know you will.”

“Hmm, am I a good kisser? I haven’t kissed many people.”

He brushed my lips with his thumb. “You’re a wonderful kisser.”

“Good, then kiss me some more.”

He did, but only for a magical minute. When he stopped and stood up, I knew it was for the best, but I still ached for more.

“Sleep tight, Jonah. Try to clear your head.”

I would need to clear my erection first. “I’ll do my best. Good night.”

He turned off the light and left me floating in the sky.

*

I awoke to the sweet scent of pancakes. With memories of last night rushing through my head, I never jumped out of bed so fast in my life. I hurried to brush my teeth in the bathroom, then hopped into the shower, taking advantage of the expensive shampoos.

Once done and dry, I returned to yesterday’s clothes. Before leaving the room, I told myself to play it cool and tread carefully on this uncharted territory.

When I entered the kitchen, Eliot stood with his back to me, facing the stove. He wore a blue polo shirt and jeans that complemented his ass—not that it took much effort. I had dozens of witty greeting lines circling in my head, but I couldn’t decide which one to pick.

“As fascinating as my back surely is, you should still wish me good morning.”

I cleared my throat. “Sorry. Good morning.”

He turned around with a wooden spoon. “How did you sleep?”

“Great. You?”

“Like a baby. Sit.”

I did, and he placed a stack of pancakes on my plate, then poured me some orange juice. “Dig in.”

“Thanks. Is Thomas still coming?”

“Who?”

“Sorry, The Director.”

“Yes, he’ll be here soon.”

I sliced through the creamy pancakes. “Should I find something else to wear? I usually dress nicer for auditions.”

“Your personality will land you this role, not your shirt.”

“Okay.” I ate while Eliot leaned over the tall table, browsing the morning paper. “Anything interesting?” I asked.

“Bill Clinton has announced his staff members. Seems like fine people all around.” His features darkened. “How unfortunate.”

“What’s wrong?”

“AIDS is on the rise in LA again.” He met my eyes. “I hope you’re always using protection.”

“What? I…”

“Please don’t tell me you’re risking your life for—”

“I’m not having unprotected sex!” I was having the safest sex of all—none.

Eliot nodded. “I’ve seen too many good people perish because of that horrible disease. How’s your food?”

“Great.”

“Then why don’t you look happy?”

“Huh? I’m happy.”

He closed the newspaper and slid closer. “Are you really?”

I put down my fork. “It’s just… I’m nervous about meeting that guy.”

He cocked his head. “And here I thought it might be related to our kiss.”

Count on Eliot not to beat around the bush. “Well, maybe. I’m quite confused, to be honest.”

“Why are you confused?”

“Because I don’t know how to act now. What can I do and say?”

“You’re a grown man. Say and do what you want.”

“You know it’s not so simple.”

He nodded. “I can see why you might feel confused. Maybe I was out of line last night.”

I raised my fork. “If you’re taking it back, I’m attacking.”

He lowered my hand, his warm fingers resting on mine. “I’m not taking anything back. I just wish for you to focus on the audition, not on me.”

“I am focusing on the audition.” Though that wasn’t the whole truth.

He patted my hand. “Good. Focus on making a killer impression, and not on me fucking you senseless later.”

I gawked at him, then the doorbell rang.

Eliot glanced at his watch. “Someone’s early.” He gave me a nervous smile and hurried to open the door.

*

I wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, but I could tell when someone didn’t like me, and The Director didn’t like me. For the last thirty minutes, he had been talking directly to Eliot while we sat in the garden around the table. Eliot had tried, unsuccessfully, to involve me in their conversation, but it wasn’t like they spoke about anything interesting—just of people they knew and a bit of politics. What happened to talking about movies? I’d never met a director who didn’t talk about movies at every opportunity.

Thomas—though I remembered not to use his name—didn’t even look like a director. He came across as ex-military with his cold expression and frigid posture. His face was handsome, I suppose, with his high cheekbones. His short, graying hair suited him well, and his dark eyes seemed to blink once every five minutes. He wore plain, all-black clothes.

The only times he seemed less robotic were when his eyes lingered on Eliot. There was no denying the fondness there, and it clearly went both ways, for reasons I couldn’t figure out. I had met some of Eliot’s friends in the past couple of months, and they were usually more outspoken and lively.

As time crawled by, I drank more wine than I should have, but it wasn’t like I had anything better to do. The Director didn’t ask me anything, making it the weirdest audition in history. Maybe Eliot had gotten confused about this alleged role and was now too embarrassed to tell me.

With the alcohol level in my blood steadily climbing, my tongue loosened, and I ended up asking, “Were you in the military?”

The Director turned to look at me. “Why do you ask?”

“Because of how you sit and talk.” My face grew warm under his stoic gaze.

He shook his head. “I came from a strict upbringing, but it wasn’t military.”

“Oh. I came from a Christian upbringing—very strict as well.” I cleared my throat, seizing the opportunity. “So, Eliot told me you’re working on a new production.”

“Did he now?” He glanced at Eliot, who didn’t seem pleased. “What did he tell you about it?”

I scratched the back of my head, worried I should have kept my mouth shut. “Not much, just that it’s something different, and that you are very talented.”

“Going for flattery? How childish.”

My face grew even warmer.

“Jonah tends to get excited about things he’s passionate about,” Eliot said with a stiff smile.

“I see.” The Director held my gaze. “And what are you passionate about?”

I straightened, wishing I’d drank one less glass of wine. “Acting, sir.”

“What about acting? The money?”

“No, not at all.”

“You’d agree to work for free, then?”

“Well…”

“Do you think you have what it takes to make it?”

“I…yes? I mean, yes, for sure. I have what it takes.”

He shook his head at Eliot. “Too young. Too… simple.”

“He is not simple, and you are being rude to my friend.”

I’d never seen Eliot angry before, and though he remained composed, his eyes spoke volumes.

“I apologize,” The Director told me, then immediately resumed his conversation with Eliot about the economy, once more leaving me out like one of the plants.

I rubbed my face, debating whether to leave. This was undoubtedly a waste of time, but I didn’t want to be rude to Eliot, not to mention his promise of sex afterward. I wasn’t going to skip on that, shitty director or not.

I drank more wine, ignoring the dull conversation and watching the sun’s glimmer on the water in the pool.

“Jonah,” Eliot said at one point, “come help me bring refreshments.”

It was a cheap decoy, but I gladly followed him into the kitchen, where I said, “He hates me.”

“He doesn’t. He’s just concerned that you might be too…” He shook his head. “Never mind.”

“Say it. What is he concerned about? That I’m too simple in the head?”

“You and I both know how bright you are. You did nothing wrong—it’s me who should have handled it differently. He… he can be very stubborn, even when I have his best interests at heart.”

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about. Maybe I should leave. He doesn’t want me here.”

“You are not going anywhere.” He put his hands on my shoulders, his gaze intense. “I know how strong you are, how good you two can be to each other.”

What?

“I need you to trust me,” he said, almost pleading. “Just a bit longer.”

“Why? I don’t even want to work with him.”

Eliot squeezed my shoulders. “You’ve promised to follow my lead. Was that a lie?”

I took a breath to calm myself down. That so-called director wasn’t worth fighting with Eliot.

“Fine,” I said. “It’s pointless, but whatever.”

“Thank you. Let me make you a drink.”

I shook my head. “I’ve had too many.”

“One more. Trust me.”

“If I puke, I ain’t cleaning.”

“Duly noted.” He kissed my lips and went to make me a drink, this time pouring from a bottle that wasn’t wine, but I didn’t care enough to ask what it was; I just wanted to get this over with.

“Here you go.” He placed a glass with a colorless drink in front of me. “You don’t have to drink it all.”

I raised the glass and took a sip, pleasantly surprised by the sweet flavor. “It’s nice.”

“Good.”

“I don’t know why you two are even friends,” I said before I could stop myself. “You’re much nicer.”

“That's true, but since he didn’t expect to meet you today, I did put him on the spot, which was unfair.”

“You didn’t tell him about the audition?” That made me even more confused, just when I thought I’d reached the end of my confusion.

He looked away. “It seems I overestimated my influence over him, but I’m not ready to give up. Come, let’s head back.”

I took two steps before feeling a mighty wave of dizziness. My heart also seemed to beat faster, growing louder in my ears.

“Something… something’s wrong.” My voice echoed in my head.

From behind, Eliot wrapped his arm around my chest. “Nothing’s wrong. Take deep breaths and walk slowly. It will pass soon.”

Not feeling like I had much choice, I continued walking. The sun hit me hard when I stepped outside, as if someone had cranked up the brightness. Eliot helped me back into my seat, where the shade from the house made it possible to reopen my eyes. Since I could now see The Director in front of me, I missed the blinding sun.

“Do you ever smile?” I asked.

“It does take a lot.” A trace of amusement touched the corner of his lips, or it might have been a stroke.

Eliot rested his hand on my shoulder. “Jonah is much more special than you think.”

“I doubt it. Eliot, I’m sorry, but whatever you’re trying to do—”

“You know what I’m trying to do.”

“Then come back.” It was the first time he raised his voice, showing any sort of emotion.

“I can never do that. Can you really ask me that?”

The Director looked away, his jaw tight. “You’re right. I’m happy you got out, but don’t expect this… child to be your replacement.” He glared at me as if I’d offended him by simply existing. “He’s a pale shadow of you.”

I would have been offended if being a pale shadow of Eliot wasn’t a lot.

“You’ve never been more wrong,” Eliot said, “but since I’ve missed you, we should stop arguing and talk about other things. For now.”

They went on to talk about an art exhibit Eliot had seen recently, while my brain felt like a spinning washing machine. I didn’t understand their conversion about me replacing Eliot, but I didn’t care enough to try deciphering it. I just waited for this man to skedaddle out of here and leave me alone with Eliot.

The mention of the name Rodin during their conversation caught my attention, piercing through the fog clouding my mind. “Rodin’s overrated,” I blurted.

The Director frowned at me. “You know of Auguste Rodin?”

“Yeah, but I don’t like him. Donatello did similar things, only better. Botero too, but his art was more political.” I was proud of myself for speaking despite my floaty brain. I knew my way around art thanks to Nanna Ruth; she used to take me to museums and buy me art books. We need to put some art in your head instead of those damn scriptures, young man.

“You know a thing or two about art,” The Director said, for once not looking at me like an annoying fly.

“Because of Nanna Ruth,” I said. “I also studied a bit of sculpting when I was younger. My dad said it was for queers.”

“What were your favorite materials?”

“Hmm, metal and copper. Sometimes clay.” I raised my hands. “I loved fingering the clay.”

The Director let out a choked laugh, which he quickly masked with a cough.

Eliot moved his chair closer to me. “You never told me those things.”

I shrugged. “I’m full of surprises.”

“Eliot,” The Director said with a sigh, “I won’t take it easy on him. He’ll be treated like the rest.”

The rest?

“I know,” Eliot said. “Just promise to give him a chance.”

“I’ll do my best. Let’s proceed, then. And damn you.”

I was about to make it clear I didn’t want any part in this man’s productions, but before I could speak, Eliot told me, “Let me help you up.”

He led me into the house and onto the couch we sat on yesterday to watch A League of Their Own. He sat next to me, and I leaned my head against his shoulder, feeling deeply tired. I couldn’t have sex with him in this state, but I was sure he’d wait until I woke up.

“You’re beautiful,” Eliot whispered, “and you are strong, so very strong.”

“Then why do you sound sad?”

He didn’t answer.

At the sound of approaching footsteps, I cracked open my eyes and tried to blink away the blurriness. The Director watched me from a chair, with two strange men standing behind him.

“Do you see them too?” I whispered to Eliot.

“I do.” He squeezed my hand.

“Will he fight?” The one who asked that was chubby, his beard messy, and his eyes small and unkind.

“He won’t fight,” Eliot said. “Let’s get this over with.”

Over with?

The bearded man crouched in front of me, smelling of cigarettes. I watched him numbly as he held my hand without asking for permission.

“I don’t like you,” I said.

He snickered. “Oh yeah? Don’t worry; we’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other better. I’m a peach.”

I had no intention of getting to know him better, and I was about to let him know that when a sharp pain jolted me. I hissed and looked down at the syringe in my arm. I gawked, too stunned to react. When he pulled the syringe out, a drop of blood slid down my skin.

“Breathe,” Eliot said, his voice far away.

“He… he…”

“Just breathe, Jonah. You are strong; I know you are.”

With the world slipping into darkness, I didn’t feel strong at all.

CHAPTER SIX

2006

I parked in front of the apartment building in Pasadena and got out of my car, seeing no sign of Hayden. He’d asked me to meet him here without offering any further details. We parted ways yesterday after I’d opened up about my past, but I hadn’t gotten to the heart of what happened all those years ago. Hayden hadn’t pushed, but I knew his patience wouldn’t last.

Since he’d yet to arrive, I walked to a nearby Starbucks and bought a caramel Frappuccino. By the time I got back, Hayden was leaning against my car. He raised his aviator sunglasses when I approached, wearing his familiar brown leather jacket. Even though I’d come here to meet him, his presence managed to catch me off guard.

“That crap will kill you.”

“I need the sugar.”

“Didn’t sleep well?”

About an hour, and even that had been restless. “I slept enough.”

“You look nice.”

He wasn’t acting very professionally, but I wasn’t sure I wanted him to. Pretending we were two strangers would have made it harder. “Thanks, but these are my usual clothes.”

“They’re not, but I won’t embarrass you.”

I was reminded of how perceptive he could be. “Why did you want to meet here?”

“A guy who used to work with my department lives here. I want him to have a look at your leg.”

I bit down on my anger. He should have told me that before I drove all the way over. “That’s a bad idea. I don’t want anyone messing around with it. For all I know, it might explode.”

“It won’t explode, Jonah. I don’t want him to mess with anything, just see what we can learn. If this device can record what we say, I need to know.”

I couldn’t imagine them listening to me for all those years, but since I didn’t know for sure, arguing felt redundant. “Fine.”

“Thank you. I spoke with the Chief last night about my involvement in this case considering our history.”

Our history. I drank my Frappuccino, which indeed tasted too sugary. “What did he say?”

“He doesn’t think it’s ideal, but we’re short on staff. With the high crime rate in the city, one missing person won’t stay relevant for much longer.”

A selfish part of me was relieved. My carefully balanced world was unraveling, and it would likely get worse. I had little belief Hayden would ever solve this case, but I didn’t want to get in his way—he’d give up eventually on his own, without me being at fault.

“I’m going to start looking into other missing persons reports,” Hayden said. “Maybe more cases have similar patterns.”

I was sure he’d find more, though I dreaded knowing how many. “They didn’t only take actors,” I said. “They wanted men whose disappearance wasn’t likely to draw attention.” There had been one exception I couldn’t bring myself to ever talk about.

“Nick has a big family and lots of friends,” Hayden said with a frown. “He doesn’t fit the mold.”

I waited for him to imply that Nick had likely been taken because of his connection to me, but he ended up saying, “If it is also not like them to post videos of their captives online, they might’ve changed their ways, or maybe they’re just feeling too confident. Anyway, you’re ready to go inside?”

“Can I finish my coffee first?”

He glanced at my cup. “That isn’t coffee, but go ahead.”

We leaned with our backs against my car, keeping a safe distance, but his presence made me self-conscious.

“You’re going to the studio later?”

“I need to meet with suppliers downtown.”

“Does Jenny know what happened to you?”

“Nobody knows.” Hayden had been the only one I’d planned on eventually telling.

“How are your bruises?”

“Better. Are you going to speak with Eliot again?”

“Yes, once I’m done here.”

I held his gaze. “You’ll have backup, right?”

“No need. I’m meeting him in a public place.”

“Don’t underestimate him.”

“I won’t, and I won’t mention you. Last thing I need is for him to get suspicious. Are you done absorbing sugar?”

“Yes.”

We climbed to the second floor, and Hayden knocked on one of the doors. The man who greeted us was short and stocky, wearing a Hawaiian shirt.

“Damn, I forgot how tall you are,” he told Hayden, gesturing for us to come inside. His apartment was clean yet smelled of weed.

“Hal, this is Jonah.”

He shook my hand. “Nice to meet you, man. I heard about your bionic leg.”

“I did not call it a bionic leg.”

“I don’t want you to try anything dangerous,” I said, maybe a bit too firmly. “Hayden said this was just about gathering information.”

“Sure sure, don’t worry. Strictly for information. But if you want me to take your leg off, I can—”

“Hal…”

He laughed, making me worry he was as high as a kite. He waved for me to follow him. “Let’s have you drop your pants so I can see the goods.”

“It’s on his calf,” Hayden said as we followed Hal to the back of the apartment. “Pants stay on.”

The room he led us to had electronic devices scattered all over.

“Sit over there.”

I sat on the chair in the middle of the room and rested my leg on a stool. Hal pressed on my calf and said, “Yeah, I feel the little bugger. Does it hurt?”

“A bit when you press on it, but not usually.”

“Be careful,” Hayden said, leaning against the doorframe. “I need him in one piece.”

Hal rolled his eyes. “Your pretty boyfriend is in good hands.”

“He’s not my… just get on with it.”

Hal wheeled over a monitor and grabbed what seemed like a transducer probe, different from the one that Samuel had used in my house. Hal pressed the cold probe against my calf and moved it up and down. When the monitor’s black screen began to show gray shapes, Hayden came closer to watch.

“That’s a sneaky little bugger,” Hal said, although I couldn’t make much sense of what I was seeing. “Whoever put it there was careful—there are a lot of tissues and blood vessels they could’ve hit. How long have you been walking with this?”

I hesitated sharing too much with this stranger, but I’d already agreed to this examination. “I’ve had this model for about four years. The one before that was bigger and made it hard to walk fast. I’d sometimes get cramps that made it impossible to walk for a day or two, but I couldn't go to the hospital, so I waited it out.”

Hayden let out a low growl, and I realized I was being insensitive by speaking unfiltered.

“It wasn’t so bad,” I added.

“How complicated would it be to remove it?” Hayden asked.

“Well, I’m no doctor, but it will definitely require surgery. Blood vessels must have grown all around it.” Hal brought another probe; this one had a small screen attached to it. Once he pressed it to my calf, the probe beeped. The further Hal moved it around, the more the beeping grew in speed, reminding me of a ticking bomb.

He took the probe to his desk and connected it with a cable to his computer. His fingers moved on the keyboard like a piano player. “I’m comparing the reading from your tracker to other similar devices to get a better understanding of what we’re dealing with.”

I lowered my pant leg and removed my leg from the stool.

Hayden came closer. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Hal turned around in his chair. “So, the device in your leg definitely tracks your location, but since it needs to use the same source of energy for years, I’m guessing the location is only being tracked once every week or so.”

“So, not constantly?” Hayden asked.

“Nope.”

I let that sink in, feeling that this little piece of information changed so much. It didn’t mean I could go anywhere I wanted without worrying, but it granted me a level of freedom I didn’t even dare to dream of.

“How about voice recording?” Hayden asked.

“Nah, no way. No audio reception.”

“Good news.” Hayden placed his hand on my shoulder, then hurried to move it away. “Is there a way to find out where they are tracking Jonah from?”

Hal pursed his lips. “Interesting, but that will be way above my pay grade. I wouldn’t count on it, though. But if it helps, I doubt it can even track Jonah’s exact location; more likely it can zero in on the street but not the exact house.”

I needed time to process this. “Thank you for checking.”

“No problem, man.”

“Thanks, Hal,” Hayden said. “And maybe smoke a little less, okay?”

“Yeah, I know. They're gonna make it legal one day, just you wait.”

“Don’t hold your breath.”

Back downstairs, Hayden asked, “You thought it was tracking you around the clock?”

“That’s what they told me. Thanks for setting this up.”

He crossed his arms. “I would’ve set it up a long time ago if you had told me what happened to you.”

I expected these sorts of comments from him, and I couldn’t blame him. I had let him into my life, discussed our future, and now he was discovering how much I’d kept from him.

“I better get going,” I said, uncomfortable under the weight of his gaze.

“Okay. Remember to keep this between us. I’ll update you about anything I find.”

“Thanks.” I entered my car and drove away.

*

I waited two more days to fully recover before returning to the studio. Jenny was there when I arrived, her face and clothes smeared with paint. She put her fists on her hips and said, “Jonah Carter, you have a lot of nerve, young man.”

I put my bag on the floor. I’d been expecting this outburst, even though I had texted her that I was okay. “Sorry for making you worried.”

“Oh, sorry, he says, as he bats his long lashes.”

I did no such thing. “I had some things to deal with, but I’m better now.”

Her features softened before she came to hug me. I rested my chin on her shoulder, hoping that the paint was dry.

“If it’s because of a boy, I’ll castrate him.”

I kissed her cheek. “Thank you.”

She returned to her work, and I walked over to my station, breathing in the familiar scent of oil paint and metal. As I arranged my equipment for the day, my annoyance with Hayden overshadowed the joy of being back in the studio. He had sent me just one message since we parted ways, telling me that meeting Eliot hadn’t yielded any results and that he would be talking with his boss about the next steps. He’d promised to let me know how it went.

I debated whether to reach out to him, but I worried he’d see it as an invitation to investigate me further. I couldn’t be the catalyst for my own unmasking, not when I could hide in my cocoon a bit longer.

“I forgot to tell you!” Jenny called, making me jolt out of my thoughts.

I turned around. “What is it?”

“A bunch of people came over to see my stuff last week.” She placed her palm over her heart. “Being the amazing friend that I am, I showed them some of your work.” She went to pull out a white envelope from her bag. “I sold one of your pieces! Now, don’t give me that look, Jonah—it was the sea creature you wanted to throw away.”

“No way in hell that somebody paid for that.”

“You bet your perky ass they did. Five hundred bucks.” She handed me the envelope, and the beautiful bills were all inside.

I had a moment of hesitation, wondering if some of those bills had been added by Jenny, but I didn’t want to put her on the spot. “That’s incredible. Thank you!”

She pinched my cheek. “Sure thing, hon. And those people also said what I always tell you—get yourself an agent!”

I went to put the precious envelope in my bag. “Not happening. The last thing I need is an agent to deal with. I used to have one ages ago, and it wasn’t… it wasn’t the best…”

“What is it? Jonah?”

Thoughts spun in my head like a tornado, making my heart race. “I need to go.”

“But you just got here.”

“I’m sorry.” I grabbed my bag. “Thanks again for the sale. You’re the best!”

I bolted down the stairs and jumped into my car.

*

I sat in my car for a long time, numbly staring at the familiar building across the street.

I had first set foot there seventeen years ago, full of hope yet expecting disappointment. That had been my eighth attempt at scoring an agent, and I’d begun contemplating returning to Kentucky with my tail between my legs, fearing I’d end up homeless.

I didn’t like Agatha at first sight; I found her rude and too blunt, even for a showbiz agent. I needed to remind myself I wasn’t there to find a new friend but someone who would fight for my career. Agatha said she saw something in me—a fearless hunger—and she signed me up as a client on the spot. I left her office the happiest man alive, my future brighter than the California sun.

After the hellish months with The Society had ended, I returned to LA with enough money to sustain myself for a while, yet without any friends. Eliot had been the assent of my social world before the nightmare started, leaving a void I didn’t know how to fill. My acting days were done and buried, but since Agatha was one of the few people I knew, I went to see her, wishing to apologize for disappearing. It turned out she didn’t give a fuck. I might as well have been apologizing for spilling her coffee.

When I first learned Nick was Agatha’s client, I dismissed it as a coincidence, but now he was in the hands of The Society, and him being taken because we’d hooked up didn’t add up. The only other thing we had in common was Agatha, who also knew Eliot. I could have been way off, succumbing to paranoia, but every instinct in my body urged me to investigate.

I got out of my car, stepped into the building, and took the elevator to the twentieth floor. I didn’t bother checking if Agatha’s office was still there; I felt it was.

I stepped out into a bright reception area that seemed nicer than the one I remembered. Headshots hung proudly along the walls. I knew I shouldn’t look but couldn’t help it. I recognized some of the faces, though Agatha never had big names in her portfolio. Some of the headshots were from the ‘90s but none were of me. Back in the day, my face hung on this wall, my curls tousled and my smile wide.

The receptionist coughed to get my attention. She was a pretty young thing, eyeing me with suspicion. I glanced down at my plain clothes, which had color stains thanks to Jenny’s hug.

I walked over to the front desk. The words Silver Screen Talent hung with shiny letters behind the receptionist. “Hi there. I’m here to see Agatha.”

She cocked her head. “And you are…?”

“An old friend. Can you please tell her that Jonah Carter is here to see her?”

“She’s super-duper-busy today, and she doesn’t like it when people stop by without an appointment.”

“Yeah, she’s tight like that.” I leaned forward on the high desk. “Agatha and I go way back. I’d love to tell her about what I heard about the new Tarantino movie.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Tarantino?”

“I came here right as I heard. Agatha will die when she hears it.”

She chewed on her lower lip, clearly debating whether I was a charlatan and whether she was willing to risk it if I wasn’t. Eventually, she stood up and said, “Wait here. What did you say your name was?”

“Jonah Carter.”

I waited anxiously as she went into Agatha’s office and closed the door. Never one to cause a scene, I knew I would have to if Agatha refused to see me.

Maybe I should let Hayden know what I’m doing. It hadn’t occurred to me that I might be tampering with an active investigation. I reached for my phone, but the office door opened before I could.

“You can go in,” the receptionist said.

“Thank you.”

*

“I never would have guessed you’d stop by, Jonah.”

Agatha sat behind her organized desk while I sat on the other side, trying to ignore the overwhelming sense of déjà vu. Despite her smile, her body language radiated discomfort, but was it because I was a waste of her time or because she suspected what had brought me here?

“Thanks for seeing me.”

“Oh, I always have time for old clients, especially when they have news about the new Tarantino movie.”

“Sorry about that.”

“That’s okay.” She crossed her arms, her hair straight as a ruler and dyed platinum blonde. “So, to what do I owe the honor?”

Neither of us was a fan of small talk, which I always liked about her, even when her blunt words hurt. “I need to ask you something, and I need you to answer honestly.”

“I was always honest with you.”

“I’m here because of Nick.”

She cleared her throat. “Nick?”

“Nick Torres.”

“Oh, right. He did mention you and him were… hanging out.” She smiled coyly and winked. Being in the industry for as long as she had, she must have experienced the shift in acceptance toward gay actors. I’ll drop you faster than a sack of potatoes if you get labeled as a homo actor, Jonah.

By the way she spoke about Nick, I assumed that no one told her about what happened. “Nick is missing. He disappeared a few days ago.”

“I’m aware.”

I frowned. “You are?”

“A sexy detective came over to ask me about that. I wasn’t much help, but I told him it was likely a case of Nick running away to lick his wounds.”

“Why would he need to lick his wounds?”

“Isn’t it obvious? His career wasn’t taking off, and they canceled an audition he was waiting for. Nick can be very… dramatic. Oh, don’t give me that look—I like the kid! I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about.” She lowered her voice. “Come on, you and I both know he’ll never make it big. You need more than a pretty face to make it in this town.”

Her words felt personal, as if we were no longer talking about Nick. Had she said similar things about me when she held my hopes and dreams in her hands?

I inhaled to compose myself, reminding myself why I was there. “Agatha, do you know where Nick is?”

“Meaning?”

I wet my lips. The office felt too hot. “I think you might know where Nick is, like you knew where I was all those years ago.”

Something dark flashed in her eyes. A warning? She laughed, but it came out pitchy. “How the hell should I know where you’ve been all those years ago? You had a personal crisis, didn’t you? You said so yourself.”

“You sent me to Pickles, Agatha.”

“Excuse me?”

“You kept bugging me to go there, only there. You said it was the hottest place in town, but it never was. You also didn’t mention you knew the owner. Why wouldn’t you tell me that? And…” I stopped myself from saying that Nick also knew Eliot, because wouldn’t that mean I knew too much? I couldn’t make it known I was involved in a police investigation.

“Jonah, listen to me.” She leaned forward, her gaze colder than ice. “I don’t appreciate your wild accusations. Wherever Nick ran off to, it’s none of my business, and wherever you ran off to is even less. Honestly, Jonah, your career was dead in the water; no one even noticed you were gone. You need to move on before this turns even sadder.”

She meant for her words to cut, but I was no stranger to bleeding. “Eliot knew about most of my failed auditions in advance. I thought it was because he knew a lot of people, but he only needed to know one person—you. Did you feed him information about me for all those months?”

She stood up. “Get out.”

“Not until you tell me the truth.”

“Jonah, get the fuck out!”

I jumped to my feet, worried I might lose control and hit her. “You fucking ruined me!”

“You are delusional, Jonah, and it’s pathetic. Get out!”

The office door flew open. “A problem, Agatha?”

I turned to see a man by the entrance, filling the space with his massive frame, his smile as sharp as a blade.

“Jonah was just leaving.”

I turned to her. “We can still save him. Just tell me where he is. I won’t tell anyone that you—”

I was yanked back and landed on my back. Sharp pain pulsed up and down my spine.

“The lady told you to get out, friend.” The man offered me his hand, still smiling.

I wanted to wave him away, but I hurt too much. I let him help me up, my face burning from embarrassment.

“Make sure he leaves the building,” Agatha said, the anger in her voice already replaced by boredom.

“Sure thing, ma’am.”

He steered me out of the office until we reached the elevator. From behind, I heard the receptionist say, “Wait, so he didn’t know about the new Tarantino movie?”

The man stepped into the elevator with me, standing too close.

“Are you also with them?” I asked, pain and anger taking over my mouth.

He glanced at me, looking even more massive in the cramped space. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Once we reached the lobby, I hurried out of the elevator and rushed to my car, knowing I had made a huge mistake.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Jenny wasn’t in the studio when I got back. I took an Advil for the pain, though most of it had subsided on its own. As the setting sun infused the studio with a golden glow, I paced between paintings and sculptures. This was about finding Nick, I kept telling myself, but I couldn’t ignore the depth of Agatha's betrayal, furious at myself for not connecting the dots sooner. I felt nauseated remembering how I had apologized to her after returning to LA, as if I had done her wrong.

With my anxiety soaring, I sat on the floor and held my head between my legs. Since I didn’t have a needle at hand, I settled for pinching my arms as hard as I could until my flesh turned numb and hot. By the time I stopped, red marks had formed on both my arms, but at least I felt more composed.

I stood up and glanced out the window, half expecting to see someone watching me from the parking lot. I had revealed too much today to Agatha, painting a target on my back. I needed to let Hayden know about what happened. He answered my call with a tired, “I was about to call you.”

I hated it when people said that, as if it gave them a free pass. “I need to talk to you, but not over the phone.”

“You don’t sound good. Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine.” I exhaled. “I might have done something stupid.”

He stalled before saying, “Let’s meet, then. I also have news. Can I come to your place in a couple of hours? I’ll grab us dinner.”

“Okay.”

I spent the next hour working, but my mind wasn’t into it. Art could be a good distraction, but when you lack focus, you end up doing more harm than good.

I drove back to my mountain and parked outside my house. The only source of light came from the porch lights, which turned on automatically when it got dark. I walked up the three stairs, my back still aching and stiff. I slipped my key into the keyhole, but before I could turn it, the door slid a few inches open. Hadn’t I locked the door this morning? I always double-checked. Was Hayden already here? But his car wasn’t outside, and the lights in the house were off.

I took a step back, holding my breath as my heart sped up. I could hear movement from inside the house, but it might have been my imagination. I managed to take two more silent steps back when the door sharply opened. I barely caught a glimpse of the man standing inside before I turned around and jumped down the three steps. I ran toward my car, heavy footsteps following. I was halfway to my destination, my heart pounding, when I was yanked back and smashed against a hard torso. Strong arms wrapped around my chest.

Out here, screaming for help was pointless, so I tried to jab my elbows into the man’s gut instead, but I couldn’t gain enough momentum. Without a warning, he pushed me forward, sending me down to the ground. Little rocks dug into my palms and knees.

My car was a few feet away, but I would need to get up, reach the car door, unlock it, and then start the engine. I remained on the ground, willing my heart to settle down.

“A nice place you have here. Killer view.”

I pushed myself to my knees as the man from Agatha’s office walked to stand in front of me. The porch light illuminated his face with a bluish glow. I wondered if I could sprint toward the dark woods and get lost. It would be harder for him to catch me there, and I knew the area better than he did.

As if he could read my mind, the man took a step forward. “Don’t get creative. I’m just here to talk.”

“You broke into my house.”

“So? I didn’t steal anything. You better get up; when I see a man on his knees, I get all sorts of ideas.”

I pushed myself to my feet, brushing little rocks from my body. When he took another step forward, I clenched my fists, though I couldn’t take him down in a fight.

“Relax,” the man said, holding his hands up in peace. “I don’t like breaking pretty things.” He took another step forward, stopping less than two feet from me. “Why did you come to see Agatha today?”

“She must’ve told you.”

“I’m asking you.”

“A friend of mine has gone missing. He’s Agatha’s client. I wanted to check if she had anything to do with it.”

“And did she?”

We both knew the answer. “She said she didn’t, and then you came and threw me out. End of story.”

He closed the gap between us and held my chin. “Who are you working with?”

“What?”

He slapped me. “I hate repeating myself. Who are you working with?”

“No one.”

He slapped me again, sending lightning across my face.

“I’m not lying!”

“There’s a pretty steep fall behind me, and I’d rather not break your wings, little bird.”

“I’m not working with anyone!”

He grabbed my shirt and turned me around. “Do I look stupid to you?” He shoved me, and I almost lost my footing. Before I could say anything, he shoved me again, then kept shoving until the ledge was right behind me. “Stop! I don’t know anything!”

He grabbed my shirt again, and there wasn’t enough light for me to see his face—just the white glow of his teeth as he smiled. “I wonder if you can fly.”

“It was a mistake, okay? A stupid fucking mistake.”

“People pay for stupid mistakes.”

“They said I was protected! The deal was—”

“Shh, don’t yell. We’re just chatting, right?” Still gripping my shirt, he leaned me back enough to feel unstable, as if I could plunge into the dark at any second.

“You shouldn't go around throwing crazy accusations. You know that, right?”

I could hear my shirt beginning to tear as the back of my feet were past the ledge. “I'm falling!”

“You seem pretty stable to me, but I could be wrong. We’ll find out soon.”

Through the thumping of my heart, I heard a car’s engine getting close. The man turned his head toward the sound. “Company?”

He didn’t know I was working with the police, and I had to keep it that way. “A friend of mine is coming to dinner.”

The car lights shone through the darkness, but it was at least a minute away from reaching us. The man pulled me forward and let go of my shirt. I hurried away from the ledge and leaned against my car.

“I hope we understand each other. Remember, if you want peace, you need to play your part.”

A cold shiver ran down my spine. I had heard those exact same words when they let me go, which meant he knew exactly who I was. I watched him running toward the woods and disappearing into the shadows.

Finally feeling safe, I slid to the ground with my back against the car, breathing heavily as sweat drenched my skin. Hayden’s car entered my line of sight. He noticed me on the ground and stopped with a screech. Seconds later, he crouched next to me. “What happened? Is that blood on your shirt?”

“It’s paint. I’ll tell you everything inside.”

He held my chin. “Were you attacked?”

“Yes, but he left.”

He rose to his feet, his gun out in a heartbeat.

“He’s gone, Hayden. Let’s go inside.”

He scanned the woods a few seconds more before helping me up. Inside the house, I turned on the lights, expecting to see destruction, but everything was in order. I slumped on my couch as Hayden went to put a bag of food in the kitchen. He returned with a glass of water. I took it and drank, trying to stop my hands from shaking.

“Get yourself something to drink,” I said.

“You’ve got wine?”

“Yes.”

The familiar sound of him opening and closing my cabinets relaxed me. He returned with two glasses of wine and sat next to me. I leaned my head back, my legs crossed on the couch.

Hayden glanced around my living room.

“The place hasn’t changed much,” I said, although it hadn’t changed at all, really. I was satisfied with how everything was arranged, from my basic furniture to my little sculptures on the shelves. My large living room carpet had been a gift from Hayden after he complained about the floor being too cold.

“Yeah, it’s how I remembered it.” A touch of sadness reached his voice. “Just didn’t think I’d see it again.”

That made two of us.

With my pulse back to normal speed, I said, “I went to see my old agent today.”

He frowned. “You’re thinking of going back into acting?”

I snorted. “God, no. She’s also Nick’s agent.”

“You two had the same agent? You didn’t mention that.”

“It slipped my mind. I thought it was an odd coincidence when I just met him, but Agatha always worked with younger actors, so it didn’t feel all that crazy.”

“I questioned her, but she claimed to not know anything, and it didn’t feel like she cared either way. Did you get anything out of her?”

I took a sip of wine. “Sort of. She didn’t admit to anything, but her reaction was telling. Before I could push further, she had someone throw me out.”

Hayden sighed. “Should I bother saying that going there alone was irresponsible and dangerous?”

“If you want to be a dick.”

He rested his arm on the back of the couch. “What happened next?”

“I got back to my studio and called you, then I drove back here. When I got to the door, it was already open. The same man from Agatha’s office waited for me here.”

Hayden tensed. “Do you know who he is?”

“No, but I doubt regular talent agents have someone like that working for them.”

“You mean he was from The Society?”

It was still unnerving to talk openly about those people after all these years. “He must be working for them, yes.”

“By working with them you mean he isn’t a member?”

I nodded. “Members don’t work as bodyguards. I’m sure he has a criminal record—that is how The Society recruits employees, or at least they did back then.”

“They contacted them after they got discharged?”

“No, they got them discharged, then gave them a free pass to hurt others without consequences.” I took a breath, dodging painful memories like bullets. “The man who waited for me here told me to stop asking questions.”

“That likely means he didn’t come here to kill you.”

But was it because of my old agreement with The Society, or because my death could draw attention if I was working with the police?

“What can you tell me about your old agent?” Hayden asked.

“I only got the part in High Life because of her. After that, I couldn’t score any other roles, no matter how much I tried. It felt like I was cursed. Agatha kept telling me I should go hang out in a club called Pickles for mingling, and that was where I met Eliot, who owned the club.”

“It’s called Avalon now, and Eliot still runs it. Did you two become friends?”

“Yes.”

“Then lovers?”

“No, but I wanted to.” More than anything. “He was everything to me back then. Whenever I didn’t get a role, he encouraged me to keep trying, but I think… I think that it was all pointless; I was never meant to score any roles.” I wiped my eyes, today’s revelations settling down on my chest with an overwhelming weight.

“Why weren’t you meant to score any roles?” he asked quietly.

“Because they had other plans.”

“Eliot and Agatha?”

I nodded and took a long sip of wine. I could never afford the exquisite drinks Eliot and The Director had showered me with, and I was fine with that because it made it easier not to think of them whenever I had a drink.

“Is there a chance that Agatha was a member?” Hayden asked.

“I never saw women members, but Agatha always loved expensive things, and I remember thinking that it was odd how rich she was with such a short list of low-profile clients. Anyway, I didn’t say anything about the investigation to her or to her bodyguard. He tried to make me admit it, but you got here in time.”

Hayden shifted on the couch, avoiding my eyes.

“What is it?”

He put his empty wine glass on the table. “There’s a reason I haven’t spoken to you in the last couple of days. A few hours after I met with Eliot, the Chief called me to his office. He told me to stop the investigation immediately.”

There wasn’t a part of me that was surprised. “Did he explain himself?”

“He said I didn’t have any real leads to follow, and when I debunked that, he claimed there were more urgent cases piling up. When I pushed back and asked for examples, he finally admitted that the order had come from higher up, but he refused to give me names.”

“Can you really drop a case like that?”

“Nick’s case is easy to drop because no one saw him being kidnapped, and no one’s requesting ransom. Even with that video of him we found, who can say for sure that Nick hadn’t split town for a kinky porn career?”

It dawned on me how easy it must have been to make me disappear. Unlike Nick, my parents hadn’t gone to the police. My disappearance must have become irrelevant the second it happened.

“Maybe it’s for the best,” I mumbled.

“I don’t think I’ve heard you right.”

“Never mind.”

“Hey, I’m not giving up on this.”

I frowned at him. “What are you talking about? You just said—”

“What I said was that officially the investigation is dead, but I’m not giving up on saving Nick and whoever else they’re holding captive. Those monsters are hurting people. They hurt you.”

“Don’t go on a crusade because of what happened to me ages ago.”

“Ages ago? It happened last week!”

“Please don’t yell at me.”

He rubbed his face. “I don’t understand you, Jonah, and believe me that I’m trying. Please make me understand. What happened when they took you?”

I crossed my arms, my skin prickling. “It doesn’t matter now.”

“It very much does.”

“You won’t save the day, Hayden. Those people have more influence than you can ever imagine.”

“Because they’re rich? Rich people go to prison all the time—I’ve sent some there.”

He really didn’t get it, but it wasn’t his fault. I leaned forward to grab some old newspapers from the table. I flipped through the pages until I reached the political section, then pointed at a photo of a group of Republican senators. The article was about a bill they were trying to block. “I remember those two.”

Hayden leaned closer. “Remember them how?”

“They were members of The Society. I don’t know if they still are.”

“Shit, those are big names. Can someone just leave The Society?”

“I heard of it happening, but I don’t know what it involves.” I tried to articulate my perception of them. “They act like an inner society, a hub of people with influence who want to run the world—or at least to manipulate it. I remember conversations about elections, bribes, and even wars they were meddling in. The rest of the captives and I were there for entertainment—we didn’t exist outside of their games.”

“They considered torture entertainment?”

“Yes. The Director once told me that men who can have whatever they want are bound to seek illegal things to satisfy their needs. I don’t think it’s true for all men, but it was true for those people.”

Hayden shook his head. “This shit is just getting darker and darker. I need more wine.”

And I needed my needles—but less than I expected. In truth, I was surprised that sharing my truth hadn’t caused my anxiety to soar. If anything, I felt lighter.

Hayden came back with a full glass of wine. The bags under his eyes made it clear the last few days had been rough on him too. He seemed troubled and restless. As I thought of what to say to make him feel better, he met my gaze and asked, “Do you hate me?”

I blinked, not sure I understood. “Why would I hate you?”

“The things I said when we broke up…”

‘Why didn’t you tell me you used to do those things, Jonah? And who the hell sent me those videos? A jealous ex-boyfriend? Your pimp?’

I crossed my arms, hating how fresh the memory felt and how deeply it still cut. “Yes, well, I didn’t make it easier by not answering your questions.”

“You didn’t owe me the truth.”

“I did owe you the truth; I just needed time to prepare myself, but you were… you were so angry.”

“I know. I lost it.” He cleared his throat. “Why did they send me those videos?”

Wasn’t that the million-dollar question? “I don’t know for sure, but my guess is they found out I was dating a cop, and that was the least violent way to break us up.”

He rubbed his face before taking a sip of wine. I knew he preferred beer, but Samuel had drank the last one I had.

I hesitantly asked, “Is there a point in asking you to drop the case?”

“You know me better than that.”

“Why do you have to be so stubborn? You can lose your job because of this—hell, your life.”

“I didn’t choose this career to look away from evil.”

That had been one of the things that scared me the most about dating him—his uncompromising sense of justice, whereas I was living in the gray. I put my face in my hands and grunted, “You’re hopeless.”

He moved closer and rested his warm palm on the back of my neck, causing me to tense.

“Since I’ve officially dropped the case, everything I’ll do from now on is off the record. When I have enough evidence, I’ll go straight to the FBI. My aunt still has a few connections there.”

I raised my head and leaned back, but his palm remained on my skin. “And if the FBI tells you the same?”

“Let’s cross that bridge when we get to it. All I need from you is honesty. You have every right to refuse, but I’m asking for a chance to make this right.”

It dawned on me that I could keep my dark Pandora’s box private, but it no longer felt sealed tight. And if Nick had been taken because of me…

“Okay.” The word felt heavy in my mouth, larger than its vowels. “I’ll tell you more about them, but it needs to be at my own pace.”

He nodded. “Thank you. We can talk about it more once we’re done.”

“Done with what?”

“Having sex.”

I held his dead-serious gaze. “You don’t need to fuck me for information.”

Hurt flashed in his eyes. “You really think that of me?”

I didn’t. Not him. “I’m sorry.” I grew aware of how close his body was to mine. “Is this a good idea?”

He pursed his lips. “I honestly can’t think of a better idea than having you naked and sweaty with me in bed. Can you?”

Despite sitting perfectly still, I felt lightheaded, goosebumps rising across my skin. It was reckless and irresponsible to further complicate things, but passing on this opportunity scared me more than any possible ramifications.

I exhaled. “I think you should kiss me now.”

He leaned toward me, stalling right before our mouths met. A fucking tease. His warm breath tickled my face, and the second I smiled, he kissed me.

My being was reduced to the currents swimming back and forth between our lips. Kissing him was everything I remembered it to be. I let him explore with his tongue while his hands held firmly to my head, as if worried I might change my mind.

When we stopped to breathe, I said, “I should go take a shower.”

“Okay. I’ll go in after you.”

“No.” I sniffed his neck, inhaling the faint scent of aftershave and sweat. “I like your smell.”

“I know you do.” He brushed my lips with his thumb. “It was a test. I’ll wait for you in the bedroom, Joe.”

I loved it when he called me that, and he knew that. I moved to stand on shaky legs, feeling him watching me as I walked away.

CHAPTER EIGHT

It was dark in the house when I got out of the shower, a towel wrapped around my waist. A line of golden light shone beneath my closed bedroom door. I put my hand on the handle and took a deep breath, too many thoughts, doubts, and memories buzzing in my head.

But I wanted this, logic be damned.

I opened the door and stepped inside. Hayden rose from the bed wearing boxers, his body a play of light and shadows. Music played from my stereo, an instrumental track with acoustic guitars.

“Come here.”

I walked to face him, flinching when he placed his palms on my waist. “Sorry. I’m nervous.”

“That’s okay. I’ll take care of that.” He tugged at my towel until it dropped to my feet. His eyes slid up and down, making me aware of every part of my body, making my skin warm. He raised his hand and held it between us. “Ask me.”

I swallowed. “Please touch me.”

“Where?”

“Wherever you want.”

He placed his palm over my heart, my pulse beating against his touch. He traveled down and pinched my nipple, knowing how hard I liked it, though I still gasped when he twisted it.

“Problem?”

“No.”

He pulled me closer until my smooth chest rubbed against his hairy one. His erection pressed against my stomach, tucked inside his boxers. I wanted nothing more than to sink to my knees and take him into my mouth, but this was his to lead.

He kissed the side of my neck, pulling me closer against him, his hands stroking my back before moving lower to my ass.

I cleared my throat. “It’s been a while since I’ve been on the receiving end.”

“And who was the last man you received?”

“A truck driver by the side of the road.”

“Jonah…”

“You were the last, which means it’s been a minute.”

He nodded. “Okay. Lie on your back.”

The bed felt different, or maybe I was more aware of the sheet underneath my naked skin.

“Oh, Jonah,” he breathed. “Beautiful.”

He knew I didn’t like compliments, but I was willing to allow it for the sake of this moment. His fingers rested on my stomach, tugging gently at my narrow treasure trail. “Hands.”

I raised my hands behind my head, and his fingers traveled higher, reaching my armpit and toying with the hair underneath my arms. I moaned into the quiet of the room.

“Good,” he said. “About time I heard you outside of my dreams.”

He sank to his knees and lowered his face to my crotch, his nose brushing against my pubes as he deeply inhaled. Until now, my nervousness kept my cock from reaching full erection, but blood was beginning to rush downward.

Hayden snickered. “Good morning, old friend. Did it miss me, Jonah?” His warm breath stroked my hardening cock.

“Yes.”

“And did you miss me?”

“I did,” I said and left it at that, not the type to make romantic statements, and he knew that about me.

He kissed the tip of my crown. “The prettiest cock on the mountain.”

“It’s mostly raccoons who live here, but thank you.”

I gasped as he slid me into his mouth, clutching the pillow with my fists. He sucked slowly, as if reacquainting himself with an old dance. His tongue joined in, swirling and brushing against my slit. I arched my back, shaking from my scalp to my toes.

He raised his head and rubbed his stubble against my cock. I gasped, clenching the pillow tighter. “Unfair,” I hissed.

“I never promised to be fair. Did they miss me?” His warm breath stroked my balls.

“They didn’t notice you were gone.”

He chuckled. “Is that so? I guess we’ll need to create new memories.”

He sucked on my right testicle, and I could do nothing but yelp at the intensity. He stayed on the delicate line between pleasure and pain—a line I’d never known anyone to tread so carefully. With my balls in his mouth, he pinched my nipples until they were erect, reducing me to a squirming, pleading mess.

“Did I refresh their memory?”

I exhaled. “They remember now.”

He rose to his knees and watched me, looking bigger from this angle. When he raised two fingers close to my face, I eagerly took them into my mouth, sucking until he finally lowered his boxers. It took all of my self-control not to reach for his erection. He pulled his fingers from my mouth and rubbed them over my chest. “I want it deep, Joe.”

I nodded, my eyes glued to the familiar thickness of his cock. I waited for him to slide himself into my mouth, but he stalled. Even with barely any light, I caught his hesitation.

“What is it?”

He sighed. “Nothing.”

“Are you wondering where I learned to suck cock like a pro?”

He didn’t react, but he didn’t dismiss my words either. Back when we’d been together and I contemplated sharing my past with him, I foresaw such moments.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Don’t be. And yes, it happened when I was with them, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t fuck my mouth like both of us want.”

He leaned down to kiss me. “If anything I do feels too—”

“I’ll tell you.”

“Okay.” He moved to sit on my chest, not with his full weight. I stuck out my tongue and swirled it around his wide crown, occasionally tickling his slit. He sighed and leaned with his hands on the headboard, granting me the perfect view of his clenched biceps.

“I want to touch you,” I said.

“Go ahead.”

I ran my fingers through the dark hair on his chest, opposite to my smooth skin. I wrapped my lips around the tip of his cock while pinching his large nipples, using force because I knew he could take it. Now it was Mr. Control who was shivering and moaning, dancing to my beat. I reached to press his biceps, my palms failing to wrap around them, and he was flexing to make it even harder. I moved to tug at the dark hairs of his armpit, enjoying the faint dampness of his skin.

He leaned forward, sliding his cock deeper down my throat. I focused all my effort into controlling my gag reflex, but taking Hayden was always a challenge.

“Damn you,” he breathed, his waist moving back and forth, his thick pubes brushing against my nose. He continued to fuck my mouth until I tapped over his heart—our sign to ease up. In less than two seconds, he slid out, and I took a lungful of air before saying, “Please fuck me.”

“Oh, Joe, a SWAT team couldn’t keep me away from your hole. Where’s your tongue?”

I stuck out my tongue for him to suck on. My face melted, my eyes rolling back to view the inside of my head. Hayden shifted his body down to cover mine, his erection brushing against my stomach. He kissed down my chest and stomach, leaving wet spots on my skin.

My legs were in the air seconds later, bent above my head. I grabbed hold of my ankles, as exposed as one could be. He ran the tip of his finger around my opening in teasing circles, and it took all I had not to beg him to fuck me already. Luckily, he was just as eager, reaching for my nightstand drawer to take out a condom and lube.

He rubbed a bit of lube on my opening before sliding a thick finger inside, sparking a wave of heat down my spine. He watched my face intently until I nodded for him to continue. A second finger filled me, bending in ways that made me groan and bite my lips. When a third finger slipped in, my precum began to drip onto my chest, mixing with my sweat. “I’m ready.”

“You sure? I was thinking of grabbing a coffee.”

“Either you do it now or I’m calling the truck driver.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’d be here in minutes.”

“Fuck me. Please.”

Pain had no right feeling so good, I thought as he slid his cock into me, slow and steady. I wrapped my arms around his broad back, my legs spread and bent. When it became almost too painful, I bit down on his shoulder until he was fully inside.

We lay like that for a while, with him licking the side of my neck and further relaxing my body.

“Every part of you was made for me,” he said. “You know that, right?”

“I know.” I spread my legs farther, encouraging him to continue.

His thrusting demolished what little self-control I still had left, reducing me to a moaning, groaning, and pleading form. He swirled his hips in ways that helped his cock hit deeper, pressing from different angles. He might have fucked with his cock, but his hands and mouth didn’t rest for a second. Where I had skin, I had Hayden.

We usually had sex in different positions, but tonight had already been too intense.

Hayden came inside me, his mouth pressed against the crook of my neck. His weight on my cock was all the friction I needed to shoot between us. His body slacked on top of me, sweat mixing with sweat. I held him tight as a sudden sense of loss overwhelmed me. He was still inside me, but I already feared that this would end up being a one-time thing.

As if Hayden could read my mind, he kissed my cheek and said, “Next time we’ll have you up against the wall.”

“Yes. Next time.”

*

I lay staring at the ceiling while Hayden finished drying off in the bathroom. The scent of sweaty bodies lingered in the air as I lay on a fresh set of sheets, but the breeze from the open window would soon take care of that.

Hayden returned naked to the bedroom and lay next to me, smelling of soap. Even after all these months of anger and separation, it felt natural having him in my bed. His cell phone rang on the nightstand—his daughter’s ringtone. It was their usual time to talk before her bedtime.

“Mind if I take this?”

“Go ahead.”

He reached for his phone and answered. “Hi, Princess. What? Oh, that’s amazing! The highest in your class? Did she really say that? Well, she’s the teacher; she knows what she’s talking about.” He glanced at me. “Hey, Princess, remember Curly? I’m with him now.”

I didn’t know if it was smart of him to mention me, but maybe he wanted to send me a message.

He whispered, “She wants to say hello, but feel free to say no.”

“It’s okay.” I took the phone. “Hi, Maya. I heard you’re the smartest girl in class.”

For the next five minutes, I said very little as Maya talked my ear off. It felt good hearing her voice again. Hayden lay facing me, making me self-conscious. I signaled him to look away, and he responded by sucking on my nipple.

The call ended when Maya’s mom told her it was time for bed.

“Thank you,” Hayden said and put his phone away.

We lay in silence, my body tense as I waited for him to ask me to share more of my past. He eventually said, “We can wait until tomorrow to talk.”

Knowing I wouldn’t be able to sleep with that conversation looming, I said, “Let’s start and see how it goes.” I turned off the light next to my bed, washing the room in darkness. “Please don’t interrupt me when I speak, unless you feel you have to.”

“Understood.” He covered us with a blanket but kept his distance.

I shut my eyes and began to speak.

CHAPTER NINE

1992

“Good morning, sunshine.”

Bo shut the metal door behind him, the impact echoing through the small room. I remained motionless on the thin, dirty mattress.

“Hey, I said good morning.”

I had no way of knowing if it was morning or night; the only source of light was a single bulb, casting a milky glow that never turned off.

“Morning,” I mumbled, my tongue dry and sticky.

“Brought you food and water. Are you gonna eat, or should I shove it down your throat again?”

My pathetic attempt at a hunger strike hadn’t been fruitful, and I was doing myself no favors by staying weak. “I’ll eat.”

He placed the tray and a bottle of water on the floor next to my head. Vegetables, cheese, bread, and two boiled eggs. It smelled good, and not just because it was the scent of something other than my unwashed flesh. I moved to sit and grabbed the bottle of water, drinking half of it before I could stop.

Bo sat next to me on the mattress, grunting because of the low height, yet he hadn’t brought a chair in all the time I’d been here. He said it had been two weeks, but I didn’t trust him.

I ate while he watched, my stomach grumbling.

“You know that you can get a better room, and aren’t you sick of this dirty underwear?”

The same promises every day, tempting me with better conditions if I only agreed to play along.

“I don’t know where we are, and I won’t tell anyone you took me. Just let me—”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Prey. They told me you were smart.”

“Stop calling me that,” I hissed.

He chuckled and patted my knee. “The day you get to tell me what to do is not today.”

I took a breath to control myself, reminding myself of what happened the last time I’d made him angry. I still carried those bruises.

Bo moved his palm higher, rubbing my thigh. I hated the growing familiarity of his touch. “As long as you’re stuck in this smelly room, I also need to be here.”

“You don’t have to be here.”

“Sure, I do. I’m responsible for your ass.”

“Then you’re doing a horrible job.”

He laughed. “Why’s that? You want me to hug you and whisper empty promises? I ain’t Eliot.”

The mention of his name hit harder than a kick, making the fresh food in my stomach swirl. “I want to speak with him.”

“He knows where you are, Prey. Nothing’s stopping him from coming here.”

Since the moment I woke up in this place, dazed and terrified, I refused to accept Eliot’s betrayal, refused to believe that the man I’d trusted so profoundly had manipulated me from the moment we met. No one could be so evil, and the Eliot I knew was a good person. For a few wonderful hours, I believed that our friendship was turning into something more.

“Are you crying again?”

I wiped my eyes. “Can’t you just leave me alone?”

“Nope, but what I can do is tell you that slowly killing yourself in here is a shitty way to go. If you want to give up, just say the word, and I’ll smash your head against the wall. It won’t be pretty, but it will be over in less than a minute.”

I shivered at the thought of dying in this filthy room, believing that Bo would do it in a heartbeat. I looked down at my pale skin, decorated with bruises and little cuts, my ribs standing out. I was fading more with every passing day, and I had nothing to show for it.

This is not how I survive this.

“When does he want me?” I asked, forcing the words out.

“He’s waiting for you right now.”

I leaned my head back against the stone wall, soaking in the feeling of defeat. “Okay. Let’s get this over with.”

Bo rose to his feet and offered me his hand. “Good boy, Prey. Let’s make you a star.”

*

The three-man crew was already down in the dungeon, checking on the filming equipment. They had all seen me fight, beg, and suffer, yet none of them tried to help.

The dungeon was one floor beneath the estate, the air cold and stale between the brick walls. The “set” was at the end of the wide, eerie space, where they kept the different torture equipment. A leather sling hung from the ceiling next to a wide bed.

“Hey, come here.” Amanda signaled me over to the makeup station. I sat in front of the mirror, startled to see my reflection. My skin looked ashy, my cheeks sunken, and my eyes were hollow with dark circles beneath them. If I had been reduced to this after a couple of weeks, I dreaded what could happen in two months.

“Do something about his eyes. It looks like he hasn’t slept a week.”

Through the mirror, I watched a man approaching. He was muscular, his skin glimmering with some sort of oil. Spider tattoos decorated his torso.

“Sure thing, Master Derek!” Amanda chirped.

“So, you’re Jonah.” He leaned down, his square jaw hovering above my right shoulder. “I’ve been hearing a lot about you.” He lowered his voice. “They say you like to play hard to get. I can’t wait to see that.”

I swallowed. “I won’t play hard to get.”

He patted my shoulder. “Doesn’t matter; I’ll just pretend that you are. Got to keep our viewers happy.”

And who the hell were our viewers? Nobody told me anything.

“Go on, let me get to work,” Amanda told Master Derek. “I’ll make him pretty for you.”

“It shouldn’t be hard with this one.” He winked at me and walked away.

I rubbed my face, determined not to give him reasons to get too rough, although I feared it was out of my hands.

Amanda began to rub the makeup over my face, not being gentle. She was young, blonde, and batshit crazy. She covered the bags under my eyes, curled my eyelashes, and put lip gloss on my parched lips.

Unease ran through me at the sight of The Director walking in and sitting on his chair at the back of the dungeon, facing two monitors. As always, he wore black, his face expressionless. Seeing him made me think of Eliot, and my rage grew hot. My recollection of that horrible day was hazy, but I did remember how Eliot had pressured The Director to “give me a shot.”

“Are you excited?” Amanda asked, running her fingers through my hair with some sort of gel.

“No.”

“Well, you definitely should be. Master Derek is a professional!”

“Then why don’t you take my place?”

She giggled. “As if! That’s why you’re here, silly.”

“Then why are you here?”

She pursed her lips in thought. “They take good care of me. Back at the orphanage, Headmistress Bella used to say, ‘You’re not pretty or smart enough to land yourself a rich man, Amanda Tulip, so settle for whoever is willing to take good care of you.’ That fat cunt sure knew what she was talking about, let me tell you. It’s a crazy world outside!”

I didn’t know how to respond, and seconds later, she announced that I was ready and walked away.

“Yo.” Bo came closer, chewing on an apple. Some of the juice dribbled down his beard. “You cool?”

I shrugged off his stupid question.

He glanced around before leaning closer. “Take this.” He held out a small vial with purple liquid inside it.

“What is it?”

“A little something to help take the edge off. You’ll thank me later.”

“I don’t do drugs.”

“You also didn’t used to do torture porn.”

I crossed my arms. “I don’t trust you, and I don’t want your drugs.”

“Listen.” He leaned his face down even farther, watching me through the mirror. “I’m on your side this time.”

“I doubt it.”

“I’m gonna hurt my back if I keep fucking you on that crappy mattress. Just drink this, and you’ll feel much more relaxed. It will also hurt less.”

That caught my attention. The coming storm of pain petrified me. I eyed the vial. Though I had zero trust in Bo, knowing he had something to gain from my success helped calm my suspicion.

“Fine.” I took the vial, uncorked it, and drank what was inside. The taste was bitter, almost making me gag.

Bo took the vial back and shoved it into the pocket of his baggy jeans. “Let it do its magic.”

“We’re ready to start!” one of the crewmen called.

The floor felt less stable when I pushed up from the chair. The edges of my vision brightened, but I still felt in control of my body. I walked carefully to face The Director where he sat. Master Derek came as well, looking even taller and bulkier when he stood next to me. The oil on his skin smelled bad, and I hated the thought of having it rub all over me.

“Jonah, I was told you’d do your part today,” The Director said doubtfully.

I nodded stiffly, recalling how I had tried to impress him at Eliot’s, believing he could help with my career. My naivety weighed heavily on my chest.

Based on my past two experiences in this dungeon, I didn’t understand why he was referred to as The Director; he didn’t do much as far as directing went.

“Since Jonah is showing growth, try to take it easier on him,” he told Master Derek.

“And if he changes his mind midway through?”

“I’m sure you’ll manage to overcome the challenge.” The Director moved to look at the monitors, dismissing us.

With that out of the way, we started shooting.

*

“Here we go.” Bo used a key to open the door.

I limped inside to sit on a chair next to a small table, waiting for my heart to settle down. My body was a battlefield of bruises, inside and out. A so-called doctor had come to check on me once we finished shooting, but all he did was give me a painkiller.

Once I could breathe with more ease, I looked around at my new room. After weeks in a smelly cell, it didn’t take much to impress me. I immediately zoomed in on the wide bed with the pillows and the cozy-looking blanket. My aching body couldn’t wait for a good sleep. The cream-colored walls were bare but not dirty. A side door seemed to lead to a bathroom, and the possibility of a decent shower sparked a flame of excitement in my chest. A pile of clothes lay on the bed, plain gray and clean looking. It was finally time to dispose of the dirty underwear I’d been wearing since I got here.

“Told you it’d be worth it,” Bo said.

He was right, but I wasn’t willing to admit it. The drug he’d given me had helped me handle the hell in the dungeon, providing a layer of protection around my body and senses.

Taking in my new surroundings, I almost missed the food on the table: fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and a bottle of water. “I’m vegetarian.”

Bo snorted. “I’ll be sure to alert the chef.” He moved closer and picked up a piece of chicken. I was starving, but the scent of meat made me ill.

“Open up, Prey.”

“I’ll just eat the—”

He shoved the chicken into my mouth. With his other hand, he grabbed my hair so I wouldn’t squirm away. My eyes watered as I chewed and swallowed, fighting my gag reflex and my churning stomach. Pick your battles.

Bo removed his hand, and I wiped the grease from my lips.

“Don’t think that getting this room means you can turn into a princess.” He picked up another piece of chicken. I forced my lips to part and ate what he gave me, focusing on getting my strength back.

When he saw I was playing along, he wiped his hand on the table and sat on the second chair in the room. I drank the water and finished all the food, feeling fuller than I had in weeks.

“Can I take a shower and go to sleep?”

“You can take a shower, but you aren’t sleeping until we inaugurate this bed.”

I glanced at my new bed, fearing it might end up being more of a trap than a reward. “You’ll have a better time when I’m not so open.”

Bo tugged at his messy beard. “Yeah, you’ve got a point. Go grab a quick shower, then; you smell like a sewer filled with cum.”

The bathroom was small, but it had what I needed, including a new toothbrush and toothpaste. I brushed my teeth until my gums bled, then stepped into the narrow cubicle where the water was cold but heavenly. I knew I shouldn’t keep Bo waiting, but it was hard to pull myself out of the current. When I finally managed, I dried myself with a soft towel and stepped out naked, my modesty but a distant memory.

“Can I get dressed?”

Bo shrugged. “Whatever.”

I hurried to put on the gray clothes before he changed his mind, the feeling of fabric against my body strange after all this time. I ran my palms over the front of my shirt.

“Prey, it ain’t a gown. Sit your ass back down.” When I did, he asked, “Did my little gift help?”

“Yes.”

“I can get you more for next time.”

I had hoped he’d say that, but I worried about giving him another card to hold over me. “You’ll do that out of the kindness of your heart?”

“Hardly. I’m new to this gig, and I plan on making it work. If drugging you is the way to do that…”

“How did you even get this job?” With my newfound energy, my mind shifted gears, eager to collect every piece of information.

Bo took off his shoes and placed one foot in my lap. “Make yourself useful.”

I began to press and rub like I knew he liked it.

“They came to me while I was in prison.”

I wasn’t surprised he’d been to prison. “What were you in for?”

“It’s rude to ask.”

I glared at him. “You want to talk about rude?”

He chuckled and placed his hands behind his head, giving my crotch a stroke with his heel. “Fair point. Press harder. Ooh, that’s nice. I was in for rape.”

I almost expected him to say that, yet it still turned my blood cold.

“Don’t look at me like that, Prey—it wasn’t real rape. We were both wasted, and she didn’t remember going home with me. If her father hadn’t found out about it the next day, she would have kept her mouth shut. Hell, she’d have probably come back for more.”

“Did she say no?”

He shrugged. “Maybe once or twice, but she still moaned like a bitch all the way through. I can tell when someone isn’t into it, and she was into it. Anyway, they locked me up for eight years—no chance of parole. During my third year, the guards took me to a private room where a fancy-looking man waited. He said he could get me discharged in a matter of days if I accepted his offer. I told him I wasn’t allowed parole, and he said it wouldn’t be a problem.”

He wriggled his toes for me to continue massaging. “I can usually tell when I’m being bullshitted, but this guy seemed legit. He said I’d need to cut ties with the outside world and come work for a group of powerful people—The Society. My job would be to keep people well-behaved and obedient.” He winked at me. “He promised full freedom to do what I wanted with those unfortunate bastards, and after a few years, I’d be free to move on with a generous compensation. I still had five years in prison, so the deal was a no-brainer.”

It would not have been a no-brainer if he were a decent human being. I wondered if they only offered the job to rapists or if murderers were also an option.

“How many others like me are in here?” I asked, dreading the answer yet determined to discover more.

“Less than twenty, I think. I don’t know all of them. Don’t care, really.”

“Twenty? So they must be filming someone every day.”

“About two or three a day, I reckon.”

I tried to imagine The Director watching people being tortured every single day. Did he get off on it? Did he even care by that point?

“Are they all actors?”

“Nope, just random unlucky fuckers.” He lowered his foot and placed the other one on my lap.

“What did they tell you about whoever runs this place?” I asked.

“That double-crossing them would be the last thing I’d do, and you bet your ass I believe that.”

Since he seemed to be in a decent mood, I asked, “Can you get me some books and newspapers?”

“Newspapers? Why do you care about the news?”

I looked away in embarrassment.

“Fuck, Prey, don’t tell me you think your pretty face is on the front page! Nah, they wouldn’t let that happen. This is a one-way ticket for you.”

I wanted to call him a liar, but I couldn’t find my voice.

*

I slept better than I had in weeks, deep enough to avoid being tormented by dreams. When I woke up in my new bed, still hurting, I felt a hand stroking my head from behind. I’d managed to make Bo wait earlier, but his patience had clearly run its course. I turned on my stomach with my eyes still closed, waiting for him to pull down my pants and underwear.

Another minute passed, and Bo continued to stroke my head and play with my curls. “If we’re not doing this, I’m going back to sleep.”

He moved closer, his warm breath on the back of my neck. “Ever so eager.”

My eyes shot open, but the rest of my body froze.

“It’s okay,” Eliot said. “Take your time.”

I tried to calm myself down, but all my fears and hopelessness came spilling out, reducing me to a sobbing mess.

Eliot waited quietly until I regained my composure. Once I felt stable enough to face him, I turned around. All I could see were his blue eyes. How many times had I wished to wake up next to him?

“I hate you.”

“I know you do. I wanted to give you time to adjust, but when I heard about your first successful shoot, I came right away.”

“To free me?”

He smiled sympathetically. “No, Jonah.”

“Why are you doing this?”

He sighed and touched my cheek. “I’m so proud of you.”

I wanted to slap his hand away, but his touch was the first gentle thing I’d felt in this place. “You lied to me from the start.”

“I never lied about how special you were to me—still are.”

“I don’t know what to say to you.” Which was ironic, since all I had been thinking about was what I’d tell him, and how I’d make him see reason and release me. Seeing the lack of remorse in his eyes made it clear my pleas would go unanswered. What little hope I still carried was reduced to dust.

“I had tea brought for us,” Eliot said in a lighter tone. “Would you join me?”

My anger ignited at his audacity, but I fought to hold it back. Kicking him out would not help me get more information, and I wouldn’t be able to escape without knowing more about what I was facing.

“Okay,” I said, noticing the faint scent of tea.

We got out of bed and sat by the small table. Eliot elegantly poured tea into our cups—an act of normality that felt ridiculous.

“There you go. It’s mint, just as you like it.”

“I like freedom more.” I took the cup, wanting his conscience to bleed, but I wondered if he even had one.

“I put a stack of books in the drawer next to your bed,” Eliot said. “You haven’t read them yet.”

That statement nearly made me throw the tea in his face. He knew me so well because he’d been studying me for months, gaining my trust until I followed him blindly to my doom.

We drank in silence. I couldn’t stomach looking at his face, but I wasn’t going to get information by staring at his hands. “Are you part of The Society?”

Eliot set down his cup after barely taking a sip. “In a way.”

“I can’t talk to you if you’re being so vague.”

“You’re right. Yes, I am a part of The Society, but I never officially joined. My adoptive father was an important member, and the decision had been made for me when I was very young.” He hesitated before adding, “The decision had been made for my brother as well—my adopted brother. Father has… acquired us—for lack of a better term—at the same time.”

I quickly connected the dots. “Is The Director your adopted brother?”

“He is. Thomas is a wonderful man in a complicated situation.”

“Your brother is anything but wonderful, and you know it.”

He smiled tightly, a flash of anger in the cracks of his smile. I wanted him angry, to drop this act of politeness and self-control that I’d once admired. His guarded composure was an insult to my rage.

“Why is your brother The Director and not you?” I asked.

“Our father held that position before him, and he wanted a legacy. Such a position has been more important decades ago, before porn was easily accessible at video stores.”

“Then why do you still need it?”

“We don’t, if you ask me, but my opinion doesn’t matter. Old societies have their traditions, and those outlive logic.”

“Bo said there are more people like me here. Did you betray them too?”

My words didn’t seem to affect him. “I had something to do with a few of them, yes.”

Did you also take them to the cliff to look at the ocean? Did you speak with them for hours on the phone, take them to plays, invite them to your house, and then kiss them?

I pinched my thigh to regain focus. “The Director said he didn’t want me here, that I wasn’t right for this, but you insisted.” I held his gaze, daring him to look away. “Why?”

He leaned on the table. “I spent most of my life with The Society, Jonah, aware of their horrific acts. A child should not hear screams echoing through the hallways of his home. When I grew older, I knew I had to leave, but my wish created a problem. You see, my brother and I were a precedent, an anomaly. We never chose to join The Society and never possessed power or influence that could benefit its members. We were the adopted children of an important man, and we knew too much to be set free once he passed away.” He picked up the teacup and took a sip, his fingers slightly trembling. I felt an unwelcome urge to pity him, but I refused to fall into another trap.

“The High Council offered my brother to replace our father as The Director, and they made it clear he had little choice in the matter.”

“The High Council?”

“They are the ones pulling the strings. The original five members of the High Council founded The Society almost a century ago. They hold the right to choose who will take their place when they are unable to continue their work. After they made my brother The Director, it still left me—the other anomaly. They offered me a type of freedom—for a price. Everything worthy always has a price, and nothing felt more worthy to me than freedom.”

My rage grew hotter. Here I was, without my freedom, thanks to his actions. I bit the inside of my cheek, waiting for him to continue.

“I was ordered to provide The Society with men in exchange for my freedom.”

I wet my dry lips. “How many?”

“One or two a year. The methods didn’t matter to them. You can hate me, but I was faced with an impossible choice, and I made my decision. What I didn’t expect was the constant pain of being away from my brother. Unlike me, he isn’t allowed to leave the estate whenever he wants, and life can be painfully lonely around here.” He smiled sadly, as if remembering something. “He wasn’t always so… cold. But one cannot uphold his duties in this role without paying a toll. I know he’s happy for me, but he also resents me for leaving, and I can’t blame him for that.”

“Is that why I’m here? To replace you?”

He raised his hand to touch my cheek, but I slapped it away. “I asked you a question.”

He leaned back. “Yes, Jonah. That’s why you are here.”

“Well, your sick plan clearly didn’t work, unless your brother also hasn’t spoken with you at all.”

Eliot frowned. “He doesn’t speak with you?”

“No! I only ever speak with fucking Bo—who’s a rapist—but I’m sure you knew that!” I jumped to my feet, causing the chair to fall backward. I paced around with my fists clenched, needing to break something, needing to tear something apart. “You don’t… you don’t have the right to give me as a gift to your sick brother! You don’t have the right to kidnap people!”

“Jonah, please calm down.”

“The police must be looking for me.” I glared at him. “I can’t wait for you to rot in prison.”

“No one is looking for you. You’re smart enough to know that.”

“Agatha must have noticed I’m gone.”

He pushed his chair back. “You’re upset, and I don’t want to upset you any further. It was good seeing you. I promise I’ll come visit again when I can.”

“Don’t bother.”

He gave me a sad smile and walked toward the door. “You are strong, Jonah. Remember that.”

“And you’re a horrible person, Eliot. Remember that.”

Bo entered the room shortly after Eliot left. I sat on the bed, drained to my core, my rage still hot and unrelenting.

“Nice reunion?” Bo asked, smug as usual.

“Lovely.”

He came to stand in front of me. “Did he get you the books you wanted?”

“Yes, but I don’t want…” I couldn’t finish my words because I wanted books almost as much as I wanted the sun on my skin and the wind on my face.

“You like being spoiled, don’t you?”

I stood up. “Does it look like I’m being spoiled?”

He closed the distance between us. “Not everyone gets books after one good shoot.” He glanced around. “And not everyone gets such a big room.”

If this room was considered big, I dreaded seeing the smaller ones. “Nobody’s doing me any favors. If they were, I wouldn’t have you.”

“Is that so? And here I thought we were becoming a hot item.” He held my chin. “Don’t you want to be my sweetheart?” His breath smelled like an ashtray.

“You don’t care what I want.”

“Oh, come on. You can pretend I’m Eliot if it will get you wet.”

I shoved him back. “Fuck you!”

He laughed and punched me in the face.

*

I was led to the basement four days later—enough time for the thought of losing my room and books to terrify me. When Bo offered me the drug, I drank it without hesitation.

They chained my hands to the ceiling, and I could barely stand on my tiptoes. The harsh lights hurt my eyes and made my skin hot. Master Derek stood behind me, whispering vile things in my ear as the crew checked on the cameras.

Even with the drug, I couldn’t hold back my screams as he shoved things into me, each bigger than the last. Some had spikes, some vibrated, and some produced electricity that shot up my spine and made me howl. My body was being torn apart, and the people filming had the audacity to look bored. The bright light made it impossible to spot The Director sitting at the back, but I knew he was there, seeing everything.

The hardest part was knowing how much worse it could get. All around me were torture devices, the kinds that could leave scars and wounds.

When Master Derek finally stopped with the toys and fucked me, it was almost a relief. He grabbed my hair from behind, rocking my body while the shackles kept my arms high and immobile. After he came, he made me face one of the cameras. With his semen dripping down my thighs, he jerked me off until I came on the filthy floor.

I used to love cameras, but they had been turned into weapons, and I was defenseless against them.

*

Bo woke me up later that day.

“The Director wants to see you.”

I shivered under the blanket. “I can’t do another shoot.”

“You can do whatever you’re told, but it’s not about that. Get up and come with me.”

He led me down hallways I’d never seen before. It made me realize how ridiculously large and eerily quiet this place was.

“Here.” Bo stopped in front of a door at the end of a long hallway. “Take my advice and don’t be snarky.”

“You’re not staying?”

“No.”

Uneasiness ran through me. I hadn’t been alone with The Director before.

Bo knocked on the door, and The Director’s monotone voice invited us in. I stepped into a wide office, pleasantly warm thanks to the burning fireplace. The Director sat in an armchair, holding a glass of wine and wearing his signature black clothes.

My eyes traveled to the framed portrait hanging on the wall. An old man with a white, well-groomed beard; his narrow eyes seemed to be staring at me in disdain.

“Thank you, Bo. You can leave us.”

Bo gave me a final warning glare before closing the door behind him.

“My father,” The Director said, looking at the portrait of the old man. “Theodore. A complicated man.”

“He adopted you and Eliot.”

The Director nodded, twisting his lips in annoyance. “Eliot told me he'd shared too much with you. Sit.”

I stopped myself from saying I preferred to stand and went to sit on the long leather couch, feeling more of the warmth from the fireplace.

“How do you find your new room?”

“Fine.” It was more than fine compared to where I’d been forced to stay before, but he already knew that.

I noticed a hint of suspicion in the way he watched me, as if he didn’t want me in his personal space. I recalled what Eliot had said about me being here to fill the void he’d left behind.

“Did Eliot ask you to talk to me?”

“Does it matter?”

It didn’t really, so I let it go.

“Would you like wine?”

“Yes,” I said, almost too fast.

He walked to the minibar by the side of the room.

“Not that one,” I said when he picked up a bottle. “The one next to it.”

“This one’s Eliot's favorite.” He almost sounded confused as he picked up the second bottle, but my taste in wine was a direct result of my time with Eliot.

He poured the wine into a tall glass and brought it to me, then sat on the other side of the couch. This whole situation felt surreal and wrong.

I took a sip of wine before asking, “Am I here to have sex with you?”

“You are very direct, and no, you’re not here for sex. I would like for you to watch your latest videos and review your work.”

My work. I tasted bile. “I don’t want to see it.”

“Jonah.”

“I’m not watching that! What’s wrong with you?”

“I suggest that you calm down. Have you ever taken acting classes?”

“Of course I have.”

“And were you not expected to watch your work so you could improve?”

I gawked at him. “Are you really comparing the two?”

“I understand that this is difficult, but I must insist.”

In other words, shut up and watch. “Can I have more wine first?”

“Wine is not soda. Drink slower.” But he still went to pour me another glass.

Back on the couch, he pressed on a remote that made Theodore’s photo slide aside, revealing a hidden television. He turned it on and played the recording of me from a few days ago, when I gave up and stopped resisting. I sharply looked away at the pitiful sight of myself naked and bruised. This was a whole new kind of torture. Not trusting The Director’s patience, I took a deep breath before forcing my eyes to return to the screen. “You want me to just sit and watch?”

“How did it usually work in your classes?”

It’s not the same thing!

“We were supposed to stop the video when we had a comment, or the teachers would stop if there was something they wanted to point out.”

“Okay. Then you will stop when you have a comment, and I will do the same.”

I took another sip of wine, glad to feel the alcohol tickling my senses. I never wanted more to be drunk in my life. “You can play it.”

He did, and I watched while gripping the glass tight enough to risk shattering it.

“Here.” He stopped the video. “You refused to look at the camera.”

On the screen, Master Derek was pounding into me while I lay on a wooden table. He was gripping my hair and trying to make me look to the front.

Sick to my stomach, I said, “The lights hurt my eyes. You made them too bright.”

“It’s a dark set.”

“Doesn’t matter. You need the right kind of light, not just any bright light. It also made me look too pale.”

“You are pale.”

“You know what I mean.” Even Master Derek, with his darker skin, seemed milky.

The Director nodded. “I see your point. We’ll adjust that. You were also trying not to shout.”

“So?”

“It made Derek hurt you more. Shouting is a part of this.”

Of course it was. I wished for more wine, but I knew he would refuse. “I’ll try shouting more,” I muttered.

He resumed the video and once more forced me to sit through hell. I tried to pretend I wasn’t watching myself, but it didn’t work.

He stopped the video a few minutes later and said, “When you start feeling pleasure, let it show.”

“There wasn’t any pleasure!”

“Keep your voice down, Jonah. And yes, by that point, you were feeling pleasure, even if it was against your will. I’m only asking you to not hold back.” He scowled at the screen. “Were you using drugs?”

I shifted in my seat. “What?”

He met my eyes. “Are you taking anything?”

That was my chance to screw Bo over, but what would that achieve? He’d only become meaner, and I still wanted what he’d been giving me to counter the pain.

“I don’t do drugs, and I don’t appreciate the accusation.”

He seemed mildly amused by that. “Okay. Do you have any more productive comments?”

I didn’t know where to start with how bad it all seemed. “The cameras.”

“What about them?”

“They were all over the place, and the zoom levels were too aggressive. I already told you how bad the lighting is, but the sound is also muffled most of the time. When you’re shooting in a place with an echo, you need the right equipment, like lavalier microphones. They’re not hard to find.”

He considered my words before nodding. “Those are all valid points. Did you study photography?”

“A bit.” I’d hoped it would give me an advantage, and I loved knowing more about the craftsmanship that went into films.

The Director seemed thoughtful as he watched me. “I’d like for you to help with the productions.”

I frowned, my anger growing. “You mean to help make the other prisoners look better on camera for your sick viewers? Forget it.”

He didn’t seem surprised or affected. “Think it over. You’ve seen that good behavior is rewarded.”

“Will it get me out of here sooner?”

“It won’t,” he said flatly.

“It’s not fair. I didn’t do anything wrong!” The alcohol unmasked my emotions, putting my heart on my sleeve.

“I can be cruel and lie to you, Jonah.”

“You are cruel. And evil.”

“Perhaps, but we can’t always control our destiny. The best advice that I can give you is to adjust and make the best out of a very bad situation.” He moved to stand. “Thank you for your time.”

“Wait. If I help you, does it mean I’ll have to speak with the others… the others like me?”

“You won’t need to.”

“Then I also want you to stop Bo. He’s a monster.”

He shook his head. “I can’t do that. The Society has an arrangement with its employees, and I can’t intervene unless something drastic is taking place.”

“Something drastic is taking place.”

“Bo is new to this job. He’ll get bored with you eventually—give it some time. Come, I’ll walk you to your room.”

“Can I have more wine? It will help me sleep better.”

“You’ve had enough.” He cleared his throat. “Next time, if you behave, you’ll get more.”

And just like that, I wished to return to his office, into the lion’s den.

I got to my feet and followed him outside, knowing I’d just made a deal with the devil.

CHAPTER TEN

2006

I woke up to an empty bed. On the sheet next to me, Hayden’s body was still faintly imprinted. I ran my fingers over the cold fabric, not hearing any movement around the house. I didn’t remember falling asleep, but my brain must have shut off at some point. I hadn’t told Hayden half of what I’d planned, but that must have been enough to make him sneak out. I was sure he’d left a note or a text, but I wasn’t in the mood to check.

I pushed myself out of bed, put on boxers and a shirt, then went to brush my teeth. My stomach growled, reminding me I’d skipped dinner. I entered the kitchen, the sunlight making me squint. I kept telling myself to buy curtains, but I never did.

The food Hayden had brought was still in the fridge, but I wasn’t going to eat Chinese so early. Our wine glasses were still on the living room table. I hadn’t yet fully processed last night, but I knew I felt no regrets. Whatever happened next, I’d needed that.

I was about to make myself a salad when I noticed the sound of approaching footsteps. I picked up a knife and turned around. Was the front door even locked? Before I could check, the door opened, and Hayden walked in shirtless, sunlight dancing on the sweat on his skin.

“Good morning. What’s up with the knife?” He closed the door behind him and wiped his brow.

I put the knife on the counter, my cheeks warm with embarrassment. Of course he’d gone running; he always used to do that when he slept over.

He came closer, his sweat dripping through the dark hairs on his chest, down to his flat and smooth stomach. “Hope it’s okay that I borrowed a pair of your shorts.” He crossed his arms. “Why are you looking at me funny?”

“What? Nothing. I just thought you left.”

He frowned. “Without saying goodbye? You know me better than that.” He glanced at the kitchen counter. “I can help you fix breakfast, but I can also leave if you prefer some privacy—I didn’t even ask if I could spend the night.”

“What? No, I don’t want you to leave.”

“Then it’s high time you got your butt over here and kissed me, isn’t it?”

I closed the distance between us and kissed him hard, his sweat soaking into my shirt. He grabbed the back of my head and squeezed me closer, his scent manly, raw, and familiar.

He stopped the kiss and held my face. “I know that last night wasn’t easy on you, but I appreciate what you’ve told me. When you’re ready to share more, I’ll listen.”

I was grateful that he didn’t pressure me. “Okay.”

“You’ve mentioned that the people who worked there were ex-convicts.”

“Yes, most of them.”

“Then they should have records and mugshots that we can find.”

“Mugshots? I’m not even sure I knew their real names.”

“Do you know any of their crimes?”

“Just Bo’s. He was in for rape.”

“In which state?”

“I don’t know, but I think he grew up in California.”

He stroked his chin. “And you met him in ‘92, right? How old did he look to you?”

“I think he was in his early thirties back then.”

“Then we can assume he was arrested in the mid-‘80s.”

I wondered if that was what detectives did—assumed things and hoped for the best.

“I’m fine looking at mugshots,” I said, hoping that was true, “but won’t people at the station get suspicious?”

“Good point. I’ll need to find the right time to bring you. I’ll keep you updated.”

“Okay.”

I was about to start making breakfast when he said, “Would you mind going for a drive after we eat?”

“Where to?”

“To get you a gun.”

I gawked at him, hoping he was joking, but his face made it clear he wasn’t. “I don’t want a gun.”

“You were attacked yesterday.”

“To send a message, not to kill me. Shooting him would’ve made everything worse.”

He put his hands on my shoulders. “Whether we like it or not, they know you’ve been asking questions. A gun should be a no-brainer.”

“I don’t even have a license.”

“You only need one if you’re going to carry a gun in public, not if you keep it in your house.”

I crossed my arms, growing nauseated. It had been many years since I’d last held a gun, and I couldn’t picture myself doing it again. But I also didn’t want to argue about that. “I’ll think about it.”

“Okay. And I also want you to move somewhere else for a while.”

“What? Hayden—”

“Hal said that the tracker isn’t transmitting your precise location. You can stay over at my place, or at Jenny’s, or at a motel if you prefer.”

I took a breath, reminding myself he was only acting out of concern. “This is my home.”

“It won’t go anywhere, Jonah. Listen, I know I’m being bossier than usual, but I’m not going to pretend that the threat isn’t real.”

I put my hands on his arms. “You need to understand something. If they want me dead, they’ll kill me. Hiding somewhere for a few days won’t change that.”

He took a step back. “Jesus, are you listening to yourself?”

I looked away. I shouldn’t have been so blunt, even though my words were true. “I’m sorry. I’ll think about staying somewhere else.”

Hayden reluctantly nodded, looking anything but pleased, but that was the best that I could offer.

“I’m going for a shower,” he said and walked toward the bathroom.

“Wait. My shorts.”

He turned around. “I’ll drop them in the laundry basket.”

“I would like them now.” I held out my hand.

“You’re very possessive of your things.”

I remained silent, still holding out my hand.

He ran his fingers under the waistband, then slowly pulled down the shorts. I knew he wouldn’t be wearing underwear on his run, which left his cock fully exposed. It hardened under my stare, thickening above his large, dangling balls.

I sucked in a breath as he took two steps to reach me, placing the damp shorts in my hand. “Better?”

I glanced down, the tip of his erection almost brushing against my shirt. “Yes. Now you can—”

He picked me up and carried me to the bedroom, just as I had hoped he would.

*

I stood in front of the gun store for over ten minutes, trying to convince myself to step inside. Owning a gun didn’t mean I would ever use it, but just having one in the house scared me. Yet I couldn’t dismiss Hayden’s warning or his logic. I had to have some sort of protection.

“Fuck it.” I stepped inside, glad of being the only customer. The grumpy-looking man behind the register nodded at me, indicating he wouldn’t bug me. I walked around among rifles, shotguns, and handguns, all locked behind glass. I needed help because I wasn’t going to choose based on the prettiest gun.

I walked over to the register and cleared my throat. “Hi. I’m here to buy a gun.”

“Your first one?”

“Is it obvious?”

He shrugged and put down the magazine he was reading, which was unsurprisingly about guns. “You walked around like you were shopping for shoes, so yeah, it was obvious. What are you in the mood for?”

I didn’t know how to answer that, but I also didn’t want to stall and look suspicious. “I’m looking for something easy to handle and maybe something that doesn’t make a lot of noise.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You mean with a suppressor?”

“What? No, just not something very loud.”

“Are you on a budget?”

Did I look poor? “Yes.”

“I have a few on sale.”

I left the store with a gun and some ammo, hoping to feel safer but feeling like a walking target.

*

“Someone’s in a good mood,” Jenny declared as I entered the studio the following day.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She eyed me before nodding knowingly. “You had sex. No doubt about it.”

I shrugged and walked to my station. “A gentleman never tells.”

“That’s for ladies.”

“Then I’m a gentlelady.”

“You sure are!”

I turned on the stereo, which Jenny had decorated with stickers of flowers and kittens, always adding her personal touch to anything she found plain. I expected her to try decorating me eventually. “Mind if I put on some music?”

“Put on Meat Loaf.”

“Too dramatic. Oasis?”

“I’ll settle for Coldplay if we’re taking a trip to bloody Britain.”

“Coldplay it is.”

I worked for three hours on a new sculpture that one of my anonymous clients had requested. When my muscles started aching, I took a break and updated my eBay page. It was ridiculous how quickly my silly jewelry sold, even after I’d raised the prices a few times. I’d need to make more of those.

Toward the end of the day, Jenny and I took a break to share a joint next to the open window. I wasn’t a fan of anything that reduced my self-control, but Jenny’s weed wasn’t strong.

“So…” She nudged me with her elbow.

“So?”

“Don’t play coy with me, Jonah. Who was the one who deflowered you?”

“A man.”

“Well, of course it was a man. Cut the mystery, Nancy Drew.”

I sighed. “It was Hayden.”

“Hayden Hayden? Oh shit! Are you two back together?”

“We’re not.” I couldn’t allow us to get carried away while so many things were uncertain. Just having him back in my life felt like a lot.

“You never told me why you two broke up. It came out of nowhere.”

It had. One day, he showed up at my house, flushed and trembling, demanding to know about the disturbing videos of me that someone had sent him anonymously. I had always been a quick thinker, but seeing the rage in his eyes paralyzed me. He grew angrier, and I switched to survivor mode, lashing back with everything I had.

That hellish fight still echoed in my head.

My phone rang where I’d left it at my station. I handed Jenny the remaining joint before going to answer the call. It was Hayden’s number. With my heart beating slightly faster, I picked up the call. “Hey.”

“Hey, you. Still at work?”

“Yes, about ready to head home.”

“Cool. It’s been ages since I’ve been to the studio. Got any new pieces on display?”

He used to say “stuff” and “things” when referring to my work, but I’d taught him to say “pieces” instead.

I looked around. “A few.”

“Is the ‘Hipster’s Mattress’ still there?”

I smiled. “Yeah, it should still be here somewhere. When can you stop by?”

The big entrance door slid open. “Is now a good time?”

I hung up and walked to him, still not used to his presence after all these months. “I can find an open slot for you.”

“Please do. Hi there, Jenny.”

“Hayden!” She waved while still holding the joint, then realized what she was doing and hid it behind her back.

“Too late, young lady. I could smell it from downstairs. You’re leaving me no choice but to frisk Jonah.” He pulled me into a deep kiss. Jenny whistled in the background.

“Do you always frisk with your tongue?” I asked when he released me.

“Whenever I can.”

I would never feel completely natural sharing public affection with a man, even if the public was just Jenny. I had grown up when the world was less tolerant of people like me, and although things had changed a lot in the last few decades, it was too late for me to grow out of my instincts.

“All right, you two, I’m out of here.” Jenny picked up her purple bag. “Good seeing you again, detective. Try not to leave too many stains around—the maid was just here.”

“Jesus,” I grumbled.

Once Jenny left, Hayden said, “Sorry for not giving you a heads-up. I was in the neighborhood.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“Well, I was in a neighborhood.” He leaned to sniff my neck. “Seems like Jenny wasn’t the only one being naughty.”

“Are you going to arrest me?”

He held my gaze. “I don’t need to arrest you to tie you up.”

A pleasant shiver ran down my spine, settling in my crotch.

Hayden cleared his throat. “Sorry. I should be more careful with my words.”

“What do you mean?”

“The tying-you-up thing.”

It took me a few moments to understand his meaning. “If you can’t speak freely with me, I don’t think we should speak at all.”

“Jonah—”

“I’m not a delicate flower, and I can’t have you walking on eggshells around me. It’s not fair to either of us.”

He raised his hands in surrender. “Okay. I hear you. No eggshells. Promise.” He glanced at my side of the studio. “Show me what you’ve been working on.”

I went over my recent pieces—those I needed to send to buyers, and those I was hoping to sell so they wouldn’t end up collecting dust. Hayden listened to my explanations, asking questions about my technique and running his fingers over metal and copper. When we started dating, I thought he was only humoring me by pretending to care about my art, but he insisted on learning about my work, and I grew excited to share it with him.

After I finished going over everything, Hayden hugged me from behind, resting his chin on my head. “I can listen to you talk for hours, but I wouldn’t mind a nude demonstration next time.”

I turned around to face him. “I did it once because you bugged me for weeks, and I told you not to get used to it.”

“If I remember correctly, I made it worth your while—right here on this desk. And on the couch. And against that wall…”

“Okay, I remember!” Nobody could make me blush like he could. “Want to head up to the roof? The mattress should be in the closet.”

“Lead the way.”

The ‘Hipster’s Mattress’ was hidden behind some of Jenny’s junk. I’d received that mattress as a gift from a dance group that used to practice on the first floor. They called themselves ‘The Hipsters,’ which wasn’t a name real hipsters would ever use.

When we got to the roof, we wiped the dust from the mattress and lay down next to each other. It was already dark, but there weren’t a lot of stars so close to the city. At least the moon was almost full. We were far enough from the road to enjoy a peaceful silence.

“I bought a gun,” I said, wanting to get it off my chest.

He turned his face to me. “Really? You were less than thrilled when we talked about it.”

“I still don’t like it, but there’s no point pretending I’m not in danger.”

“Which one did you get?”

“A Glock 19.”

“Good choice. Let’s make sure you’ll never use it.” He cleared his throat. “I tried to talk to the Chief about the investigation again.”

“How did it go?”

“Horribly. It turned into a fight until he threw me out of his office.”

“Please don’t lose your job because of this.”

“I won’t lose my job. At least now I know his decision is final. Anyway, I pulled out all the missing person cases in LA from the last twenty years involving male actors. You said not everyone they kidnapped came from acting, but I wanted to narrow the search. I came up with eighteen names, almost all of them from over ten years ago. Seems as if The Society has either slowed down or shifted the focus elsewhere.”

“I remember hearing that their numbers were dwindling.”

“Really? Interesting. I also found another thing most of those men had in common.”

“Agatha?”

“Yes.”

I rubbed my face, not surprised but shaken by how many had been ruined because of that woman, caught in her web. “How come nobody figured out that something wasn’t right? It’s not a small coincidence.”

“Twenty years is a long time for any investigator to miss a pattern. If they had been missing children, or even missing women, someone would’ve investigated more thoroughly.”

Good to know.

“The number could be higher,” I said. “Not every missing person gets reported, right? Like me.”

“True. I still find it hard to believe no one reported you missing.”

“I barely had any friends back then. I stayed away from the gay scene, and my interactions with people in the industry were superficial. Once I met Eliot, I didn’t want to make more friends—he was enough.”

Hayden sighed. “Well, if it helps, I can see why you fell for him; he’s charming like the devil.”

Bile burned in the back of my throat. “I’m glad you’re impressed.”

Hayden held my hand and stroked it with his thumb. “Strictly an observation. I’m putting together everything I can before going to the FBI. Agatha is shaping up to be our strongest link, but I prefer to see what else we can find.”

“Will your aunt be able to get you access to the FBI? You mentioned she doesn’t work there anymore.”

“Yeah, it was a mess when she left, but she can probably direct me to the right people.” He didn’t sound fully convinced.

“I’m sure The Society has people in the FBI who’ll get in your way.”

“That is why I’m taking it slowly. At the moment, I only care about gathering information without drawing attention. I’m still working on those mugshots based on what you’ve told me about Bo. I’ll get an update once they’re ready.”

There was something I needed to ask—something that had been nagging at me ever since Hayden returned into my life. “I’m going to ask you something, and I want you to think before answering.”

“I don’t believe I’ll like that question, but all right.”

“If I weren’t involved in this case, would you still go through with the investigation despite being told to drop it?”

He remained silent for a long time before finally saying, “I would have dropped it. There are other cases waiting on my desk.”

I exhaled, not surprised but troubled. “Then please rethink your decision. I don’t want you to risk your job or your life because of me.”

“And what’s the alternative? You’ll wait another year for them to show up and hurt you? You’ll keep walking with a tracker for the rest of your life?”

“Yes. I’ve been doing that for over a decade, and I’m fine.”

He snorted. “You’re not fine, Jonah. Have you ever been to therapy? Did you talk to anyone about what happened?”

My skin grew hot. “I spoke with a shrink.”

“How many times?”

“For four years. I’m not fucking stupid, Hayden; I knew I should talk to someone.”

“I don’t think you’re stupid. Why did you stop going?”

“Because I was fine.” Though I never told Rebecca about the needles that calmed me down, the tracker in my leg, or the yearly visits. “I went to her when I could afford to pay. After a few sessions, she offered me a discount, so I kept seeing her for years, every single week. Rent, bills, food, and Rebecca—that was how I spent my money.” She had been the one who encouraged me to try sex again, something I had refused to do for years. Since being let go and returning to LA, I had perceived sex as an act of evil, a means of control and degradation. It took a long time and a handful of bad experiences before I could once again enjoy another man’s touch and intimacy.

“I’m glad you got help.”

“Why wouldn’t I? They didn’t break me. Don’t act like I’m broken.”

He moved swiftly and lay on top of me, his face looming above mine. “I don’t think you’re broken. I think you’re so fucking strong it makes me feel weak. Hey, look at me.”

My eyes itched, my vision turning blurry. “I can’t.”

He kissed my chin. “I want so badly to be with you in this, but I’m terrified of saying the wrong thing and driving you away again.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Not if I could help it.

“Good. Just promise to let me know if I ever hurt you.”

“You can start by not squashing my balls.”

“What? Oh.” He slid away.

“Can we just stay quiet for a bit?” I wiped my eyes.

“Sure.”

I leaned my head against his shoulder, feeling lighter as another piece of my past lay bare between us. I wonder how much more I could reveal and still have him stay. At what point would dark become too dark?

When I was about to suggest we go eat, Hayden’s phone rang. He pulled it out and answered. “Yeah, Sue? For real? That was fast… great, thank you… did you remember to keep this between us? You’re the best.”

He hung up and moved to lean on his elbow. “The mugshots I asked for are ready.”

My stomach churned. I thought we had more time. “Oh.”

“You can look at them whenever you’re ready. No pressure.”

If I had to think about those mugshots waiting for me, it would drive me crazy. “Can we go now?”

“Are you sure you’re up for it?”

“No.” I pushed myself to my feet. “But I want to get it over with.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Due to the late hour, the station was relatively quiet. The few cops we saw asked Hayden why he was there so late, and he said he’d forgotten something in his office. He led me up the stairs—the same ones I couldn’t bring myself to climb a few days prior.

His office was spacious, but he shared it with another detective who wasn’t currently there. He pulled back his chair for me to sit, as if we were on a date.

“Can I see the menu first?”

“I’ll order us pizza.”

His desk was very clean and organized, with a framed photo of a smiling Maya, resembling him by the shape of her eyes and nose. He also had a few stress relief toys. I grabbed one shaped like a banana, figuring I’d need it.

“Before you start with the mugshots, do you mind looking at the photos of the other missing actors? You might recognize some.”

I squeezed the banana. “Okay.”

He pulled out a folder from his drawer. I opened it and browsed through photos of handsome men, some younger than others. They were all smiling in their photos, likely believing their best years were ahead of them, their dreams right around the corner. “I don't recognize any of these men.” Though I could barely recall the faces of the other captives, their hatred had likely driven me to hide them in a dark part of my brain.

The sudden knock on the door startled me. I hurried to close the folder as a young female officer entered.

“Hi, Sue.” Hayden put a hand on my shoulder. “This is Jonah.”

She came to shake my hand. “Hi, I heard a lot about you.” She said to Hayden, “Everything you asked for is in your inbox. Delete it once you’re done. The Chief was loud and clear about this case.”

“Yeah, he was definitely loud.”

She snickered. “You know you’re still his favorite. Anyway, I’m out of here. Nice meeting you, Jonah.”

After she left, Hayden started his computer. His desktop background was of Robocop, his favorite film. He had made me watch it twice with him, including the shitty sequels. He was about to open one of the folders when there was another knock on the door.

My breath caught in my throat when the Chief walked in. He was as tall as Hayden, with gray hair and a gray mustache. While Hayden wore civilian clothes, the Chief wore his uniform like he had been born in it. His hawk nose set under two dark eyes that looked straight at me. I’d met him twice in my life, and he’d been friendly, but the circumstances were different now.

I hurried to my feet, though that might’ve made me seem even more suspicious.

“Working late?” The Chief’s voice was as deep as a rolling thunder.

“We’re not working,” Hayden said stiffly, “just searching online for good places to eat.”

“I see. Jonah, nice to see you again.”

“Hello, sir.” I cleared my throat. “We can’t decide on where to go for pizza. Any recommendations?”

“Are you still vegetarian?”

His memory caught me by surprise. “I am.”

“Try Alfred and Sons. Thick slices, plenty of cheese. They’re generous with their vegetable toppings.”

“Sounds good,” I said. “We’ll go there.”

The Chief nodded and asked Hayden, “Is everything okay with you?”

“Sure. Any reason it shouldn’t be?”

He narrowed his eyes. “You tell me.”

“Everything’s fine, sir.”

“Okay, then.” He turned around. “Have a nice evening, you two. Enjoy your pizza.”

Alone again, Hayden slumped onto the chair next to me, rubbing his face. I wondered if I should offer him the banana toy.

“He shouldn’t have seen you here,” he muttered. “Fuck.”

“We got out okay.”

“He didn’t buy it.”

“Then maybe we should leave.”

“No.” He turned to face me, the familiar stubbornness in his eyes. “We’re doing this.” He opened the file with the mugshots. “I know we’re searching for Bo, but you might also come across other people who worked there. Don’t dismiss a face you don’t immediately recognize. I’ll go order pizza. Be back in a sec.”

Once alone, I grabbed the banana toy and squeezed it.

Just photos. I was just going to look through some photos in the hope of coming across the monster I had fought years to forget. Easy peasy.

Hayden returned as I began clicking between rapists’ mugshots. He moved behind me and placed his hands on my shoulders. I flinched and shook him off. “I don’t want you touching me while I’m looking through rapists.”

He stepped back, and I continued to click.

*

Two hours passed before my body froze in shock. Bobby Doyle, arrested at the age of twenty-five in Oakland for rape. He seemed younger than when I’d met him, but I would recognize that angry glare for as long as I lived.

“It’s him.”

Hayden slid closer with his chair. The pizza carton lay closed, with some slices still inside. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” I took my chair back to give him room, then stood to stretch my legs while Hayden clicked through more screens.

“It’s like you said—he got out on parole after three years for good behavior. There’s usually more information about the parole process and the committee’s ruling, but I don't see any of that on his file. It’s as though someone just decided to set him free.” Almost apologetically, he added, “It was easier doing things off the record back then. I don’t think they could pull it off today.’

I was positive they still could.

“I’ll try to find his address tomorrow.” He shut down the computer and stood to face me.

“Don’t go looking for him on your own.”

“I won’t do anything without you knowing. Thank you for going through this. Can I touch you now?”

I nodded, expecting him to kiss me, but he pulled me into a hug. “I’m proud of you, Joe. Ready to go home?”

I’d never been more ready to return to my mountain. “Yes.”

“To my home.”

“I won’t be good company tonight.”

“I'll take the risk.”

Too tired to argue, I agreed.

*

We parked our cars in front of Hayden’s three-story building. It was a small, quiet neighborhood, so finding a good parking space wasn't as rare as winning the lottery.

“You have a new couch,” I said once we stepped inside.

“I do. You hated the old one.”

“It was lumpy.”

“Well, there you go.”

The living room was on the smaller side but arranged to feel homey. Hayden's acoustic guitar had an honorary place next to the television. His bookcase carried four books and around two hundred DVDs, mostly of cop flicks. When we started dating, I’d been upfront with him about my short run at acting, leaving out what had caused me to stop and simply stating that it hadn’t worked out.

“I’m going for a quick shower. Join me?”

I wished to stay alone for a bit, to try to stop Bo’s face from floating in my mind. “I’ll go in after you.”

Looking slightly disappointed, he nodded and walked to the bathroom.

I slumped onto the couch, tired and low-spirited. I could still vividly recall opening my eyes for the first time in that cell, seeing Bo as I lay naked and dazed. I demanded to know where I was, and he responded with his fists. For six months, he’d been my personal demon, using my body and toying with my mind while exploiting my every weakness.

And now I was searching for him.

I pinched my arm to put out the growing fire. It dawned on me that the perfect distraction was close by, taking a shower. I had been so focused on my own shit that I hadn’t thought of how this must be affecting Hayden, who also had his life turned upside down.

I can be his distraction, too.

I took off my clothes and walked to the bathroom. Opening the door, I was caught in a thick cloud of steam. Hayden still liked to shower in lava. I barely managed to see his silhouette through the glass door. I left the bathroom door open to let some of the steam out, then walked closer to the cubicle and slid open the door. “Can I still join?”

He wiped water from his face, his naked body a glorious sight. “Depends. Can I soap you everywhere?”

“You may.”

“Wait. I’ll make the water less hot; you’re sensitive.”

“No, you just have the skin of a hippo.”

He lowered the temperature and moved to give me room. The water hit the tight muscles at the center of my back. I shut my eyes and sighed, my body relaxing.

“Doesn’t take much to make you purr.”

I opened my eyes and lowered my gaze, Hayden’s beautiful cock pointing at me like an invitation. I sank to my knees.

He stroked my face and tilted my head to meet his eyes. “Don’t do anything you don’t want to do.”

“If you keep acting like I’m a delicate flower, I’ll bite your cock off.”

“Okay.” He brushed my lips with his thumb, the water splashing on the back of my head. “Open your pretty mouth for me.”

I did, but instead of sliding in his cock, he slid in two fingers. I breathed through my nose as he reached down my throat, challenging my gag reflex. I held his gaze, my sight turning blurry until Hayden slowly pulled his fingers out and licked them.

“Did I pass?”

He answered by sliding his cock into my mouth. I worked my throat to take him deep until his wet pubes tickled my nose. I held onto his strong thighs for balance, encouraged by the growing tremble in his muscles. Through the sound of flowing water, his moans slipped into my ears. He held my head firmly but still left me in control of the rhythm of my sucking.

“Fuck, Jonah. Fuck, I missed this.”

Unable to speak, I held his balls and gently tugged them, pulling more moans from the center of his body. I reached behind his scrotum to massage the skin, my tongue swirling around his crown. The tremble in his muscles turned into a quake, his moans growing into groans. A minute later, he pulled out, his erection slick with my saliva. “I don’t want to come yet.” He helped me up and turned me around, grabbing a bar of soap. I moved the showerhead to aim at the wall and rested my palms against the tiles, my back arched in invitation.

He rubbed the soap up and down my back. When he reached my ass, I spread my legs, gasping at the intimate feeling of the soap brushing against my opening. Hayden moved it in small, teasing circles, spreading currents all across my body. I pushed my ass back to feel more, but he kept his movements slow and steady, driving me crazy.

“Bastard,” I breathed.

He reached with his other hand to grab my erection, stroking firmly and making me squirm. His other hand found its way between my legs, soaping from my ass to my crotch. It took all I had to remain steady and conscious. Luckily, he showed mercy and stopped before I completely lost control.

He washed the soap from my skin before sinking to his knees. “You have the best ass in the world.”

“I doubt it.”

I gasped when he spanked my ass and said, “That wasn’t a question. Say it.”

I cleared my throat. “I have the best ass in the world.”

He spanked me again. “Say it like you mean it.”

“I have the best ass in the whole fucking world! Poets write sonnets about it!”

He kissed the spot he’d spanked. “A bit pompous, are we?”

I braced myself when the tip of his finger pressed against my opening. “Let’s clean you up in there.”

I bit down on my bottom lip as his entire finger slid into me. He gave me time to adjust, then slowly—so freaking slowly—pulled his finger out. He did that a few more times, using water to clean me while loosening my muscles. When he bent his finger inside me, I growled and wished for something solid to hold onto instead of the smooth tiles.

I was losing myself to the rhythm of his slippery finger when I suddenly felt his tongue. It pushed into me, melting me into a puddle. He grabbed my ass cheeks, spreading them wider. I unclenched as much as I could, rewarded by another slippery inch inside.

“Oh, God… I…”

He fucked me with his tongue, his stubble brushing against my sensitive skin. I felt out of my body yet strangely aware of every molecule. I wished to stroke myself but failed to move my palms from the tiles, which didn’t stop me from dripping precum onto the floor.

Hayden pulled his tongue out and stood, turning me around to face him. “Alive?”

“Barely.”

“Good enough.” He ran his finger around my crown and scooped up my precum. With our eyes locked, he licked his finger clean. “You taste like pizza.”

“Gross.”

“Raise your hands.”

I did, and he picked up the bar of soap and slowly rubbed it over each of my armpits.

“You’re going to be shiny and clean for me, Joe?”

“Y-yes.”

“But only until I fuck your brains out, right?”

I nodded, barely feeling the floor beneath my feet. “Right.”

He adjusted the water to wash away the soap, then leaned down and closed his teeth on my nipple. I gasped, embracing the pain. “Harder.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

The growing pain turned my vision white-hot, slicing through my chest. “Harder.”

I would have fallen if not for his arms wrapped around me. He switched back and forth from biting to sucking, an intoxicating cycle of pleasure and pain.

“I’m getting dizzy.”

He stopped and straightened, frowning down at my chest. “I went too far.”

I looked down, my pink nipple now red. He’d cut me with his teeth. “You didn’t go too far. It’s fine.”

He adjusted the water to wash away the blood. “I sometimes wish to go too far with you. It’s scary how easily I lose myself.”

I closed the short distance between us and rested the side of my face against his chest, his heartbeat strong and steady. “You’ll never go too far with me, and I’ll be okay with wherever you take us.”

He kissed the top of my head. “That might be the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Must be the rimming.”

He laughed. “You’re as clean as you’re going to get—inside and out.”

“I’m ready.”

“It’s been a long day. We can stop and go to sleep.”

I grabbed his cock. “I dare you not to fuck me.”

He sighed and slid open the door. “You know me too well, Joe.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

1992

“It’s gonna be fun,” Bo said as I finished getting dressed, “as long as I don’t have to speak to any boring rich folks.”

I stopped myself from saying that no Society member would waste a second talking to Bo. The event he was excited about was due to take place in a couple of days, with members coming by the dozens. I’d been to four similar events during my three months of captivity, and they had all involved humiliating sexual games that left me and others hurting for days. The guests would spread between different lounges throughout the estate, discussing business and politics while taking turns using one or more of the captives.

We were their entertainment, our suffering part of the menu.

“I’m ready,” I said, wearing my simple gray clothes.

Bo pulled me closer. “Ready for what? Making another poor bastard look good on camera?”

I bit my tongue, knowing he was trying to press my most sensitive buttons.

“Are you giving me the silent treatment, Prey?” He squeezed me against him until I hissed in pain. “I love seeing what a cold motherfucker you’ve turned out to be. Makes me proud.”

He let go, and I took a step back. “We’re late. He’ll get angry.”

Bo snorted. “Angry at you? His prodigy?”

“I’m not his prodigy; I’m just doing what I’m told.”

“Oh, please. You’ve only had to perform once in the last few weeks.”

I wasn’t going to pretend that wasn’t the truth, but if that was The Director’s way of showing his appreciation, I wasn’t about to question it.

“Can we please just go?” As much as I hated spending time in the dungeon, at least there I wasn’t alone with Bo. In the last month, he’d become nastier and crueler, clearly taking offense at my upgraded status.

“Yeah, let’s go. We’ll catch up later.”

The threat in his voice was hard to miss. I swallowed my fear and followed him through familiar hallways. As the days passed and blended together, my life before this place grew vaguer. Not long ago, my biggest worry was paying rent.

When we reached the dungeon, I immediately sensed tension in the air. The crew members—now mostly redundant since I started helping—didn’t speak to each other, their eyes cast down as if they were trying not to get noticed. Even Amanda stood quietly by her makeup station, and that nutcase never shut up.

I glanced at The Director, who was sitting next to someone I didn’t recognize.

“Damn,” Bo whispered. “He’s from the High Council. They don’t usually come here.”

“Jonah,” The Director said, his voice sterner than usual, “you’re late. Come say hello.”

I was late because of Bo, but I kept my mouth shut and stepped closer.

“The famous Jonah Carter,” the man next to The Director said. His skin was ebony black, and his gray suit was the same color as his short hair. He flashed pearly white teeth.

“Jonah, this is Mr. White from the High Council. He came for a surprise visit.” I noticed the subtle disapproval in The Director's tone and that he was sitting stiffer than usual. I wondered if Mr. White was his real name or if it was meant to be ironic considering his dark skin.

“I’ve been hearing good things about your contribution, Jonah. I don’t usually watch these little videos, but our members seem pleased with the improvement.”

It didn’t escape me how he referred to people’s suffering as “little videos.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I still think that you should skip this shoot and watch the next one,” The Director told Mr. White. “He’s still adjusting and has been proving… difficult.”

From that alone, I figured he was talking about Nathan, and I could understand his concern.

“Oh, I’m sure it will be fine,” Mr. White said with a wave of his hand.

“Let go of me! Fucking perverts!”

All eyes turned toward the entrance, where two guards dragged Nathan in. Since he hadn’t yet earned the gray clothes, he was naked, his skin covered in dirt and bruises. He was still being held in my old cell despite being here for well over a month. I couldn’t imagine being locked in such a place for so long; I’d barely lasted two weeks.

“Nathan,” The Director snapped, silencing him. It was rare for him to lose his cool. “It’s about time you got your act together. I’ve been clear about—”

“You’re wasting your fucking time!” Nathan had to be held back when he tried to kick The Director. I moved aside to avoid getting hit, noticing Mr. White watching with amusement, almost in giddiness.

Nathan’s broad chest heaved, his copper hair sticking to his forehead. “Take me back to my wife and son, you bastard! I won’t say a word about this to anyone!”

I was struck by his words. A wife and a son?

“We’re not getting into this now,” The Director hissed. “Derek, get him ready.”

“Sure thing, boss.” Master Derek walked to Nathan and smashed his fist into the side of his head. I flinched and looked away as they dragged him to the front of the room. With the sound of a loud impact, I jolted and turned my head to see that they had accidentally knocked over two cameras.

The Director rubbed his face. “Dammit. Jonah.”

I hurried to where the cameras were being raised and began to check on them, Nathan’s shouts and curses relentless in the background. It dawned on me how much easier it had become for me to tune out others’ suffering.

I love seeing what a cold motherfucker you’ve turned out to be.

I made the mistake of locking my gaze with Nathan’s. He spat blood on the floor, his hands tied to the ceiling, barely allowing him to stand on his tiptoes.

“What are you looking at, you fucking traitor?” The hatred in his eyes paralyzed me. “You like selling out for perks? Hey, don’t look away! You’re just like them, you know that? Hell, you’re ten times worse!”

I let go of the camera and walked away, on the verge of throwing up. Air failed to reach my lungs, and I could feel all eyes on me.

“The traitor can’t handle the truth!” Nathan’s voice followed me like a shadow.

“I want to go,” I said, and since I wasn’t sure anyone heard, I shouted, “I want to go!”

“Bo,” The Director said, “take him to his room.”

Without waiting for Bo, I ran out of the basement.

*

Hours later, I lay in bed, curled up and shivering.

In Nathan’s eyes—in all of their eyes—I had switched sides and become a part of this sick operation. But I couldn’t fathom going back to how things had been. My guilt couldn’t trump what I was getting out of this arrangement.

Bo entered my room as I lay tucked under the blanket. “Get up, Prey.”

I’d been expecting The Director to want to see me after I embarrassed him in front of a High Council member. I pushed myself out of bed, but before I could take a step, Bo said, “Mr. White is waiting for you.”

“What? Why?”

He shrugged. “No idea, but you better act extra careful with him.” His nasty smile widened. “After your little meltdown, he might stop your sweet arrangement with The Director. I’m sure Nathan would be happy to hear that.”

I clenched my fists, hating how well he knew my buttons. “Should I tell Mr. White you’ve been keeping him waiting?”

He smacked the side of my head, but at least he stopped yapping and led me out. We walked down familiar hallways until Bo took a turn onto a path I’d never seen before, through a hallway with brick walls. “Where are we going?”

“The lab.”

“What lab?”

“The one they use for experiments, duh. Didn’t The Director tell you about that?”

My stomach tightened. “You’re lying.”

“Am I? Guess you’ll find out.”

I tried racking my brain for any mention of a lab, but I got nothing.

We climbed up a flight of stairs, making me question my perception of the estate’s layout since I never thought there was a second floor. At the top of the stairs was another short hallway with a single white door at the end. The faint sound of classical music echoed between the walls, and my heart drummed faster with every step I took.

“Don’t fuck this up, Prey,” Bo said and knocked.

The classical music grew louder when Mr. White opened the door. He wore a dark button-down shirt that emphasized his narrow frame.

“Thank you, Bo. Come in, Jonah.”

I stepped inside, deeply relieved to not see a lab, though I still frowned at the sight of the small dining table. Food waited on two plates, and a candle burned at the center. I glanced at the wide bed at the side of the room, a pang of dread hitting my chest as I realized what was expected of me.

“Don’t let the bed fool you,” Mr. White said. “We will not be having sex.” He held my chin and tilted my head from side to side. “As lovely as you are, I don’t find the weakness of the flesh appealing.”

That made me relieved, but it also made this dinner stranger.

“I was told you’re vegetarian.” He moved to sit by the table. “I had the cook prepare something nice for you.”

“Thank you.” I sat on the other side of the table, the candle burning between us. My plate had vegetables, quinoa, and tofu. Mr. White was having what seemed like a veal cooked rare.

“I heard you have a taste for fine wine.” He picked up a bottle and poured me half a glass. “A few sips and you’ll feel less nervous. You are nervous, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Nervousness is a sign of a healthy mind.”

“I don’t know if my mind is healthy.”

“As a psychologist, I’m eager to find out for myself.”

“You’re a shrink?”

He raised his glass. “A psychologist, yes. Let us toast to your mind, Jonah Carter.”

Still jittery about this whole thing, I clinked my glass with his. The wine was stronger than what I usually drank with The Director, but it was still rich in flavor. I knew I was supposed to wait for Mr. White to ask questions, but I decided to take the lead. “I was told you’re in the High Council.”

“Yes, and have been for many years. It’s much less interesting than you might think.”

I cut a piece of tofu. “What are you supposed to do exactly?”

“A whole lot and nothing—if that makes sense.”

“It doesn’t.”

He sliced his veal elegantly, making me think of Eliot. “We govern, which is a fancy way of saying we make decisions that can affect our members. I’d be lying if I said we needed to make any major decisions recently, but that’s what you get with old societies—they either tick like a clock or fall apart. I’m assuming that we will begin to fall apart in… oh, a few years give or take, but we should be safe for the rest of the evening.” He winked.

“Why will you fall apart?” I asked, too curious to continue eating.

“Oh, many small reasons, all resulting in a dwindling number of members. We can’t just publish an ad in the newspaper, and with how fast technology is developing, it becomes a greater challenge to keep things hush-hush. Have you ever heard of cell phones? Very exciting technology, but once we start carrying our phones with us, what will stop nosy people from spying on us?”

“Eliot has a cell phone in his car. Do you know him?”

“Eliot? Of course. We first met when I became a member, a few years after he’d been adopted by dear Theodore. A wonderful man. Eliot, that is—Theodore was a pretentious ass, and that says something coming from me. I was the driving force behind Eliot gaining his freedom, though he has never been a prisoner, simply… limited.”

That meant that he had likely been the one to ask Eliot for a steady supply of captives. My wariness of him intensified, as did my disgust.

“I hate Eliot.” The words slipped out of my mouth.

Mr. White nodded. “He’s the reason you’re here.”

“He betrayed me.”

“Well, yes, I assume that’s accurate. Were you in love with him?”

“Yes.” I drew in a sharp breath, hardly believing my own openness.

“Love does tend to complicate things. Eliot loves his brother more than anything.”

“That’s why I’m here—as a twisted, fucking gift to him.”

“Well, I can think of less enjoyable gifts than you. And wasn’t Eliot right to choose you? The Director seems quite fond of you.”

“It doesn’t matter if he was right!”

Mr. White watched me calmly, unaffected by my outburst. “Tell me, how did you feel earlier about Nathan’s accusations toward you?”

Why did he have to bring that up? I crossed my arms, losing my remaining appetite. “I felt bad.”

“Because you were insulted, or because he was telling the truth?”

“He told the truth, but it’s not my problem he keeps on fighting. He only hurts himself.”

Mr. White nodded. “He does, but every man can break, some faster than others. Tell me, how do you and Bo get along?”

My blood warmed just from thinking of him. “He’s a monster. Can you make him back off?” If The Director couldn’t, maybe this man could.

“What makes him such a monster?”

“He… he hurts me. He makes me wear women’s clothes. He chokes me and spits on me. He…” I bit my lips, dumbstruck by my unfiltered flood of words.

“It’s in your food,” Mr. White said.

I looked down at my plate. “What?”

“A truth serum. No side effects for you to worry about.”

“Why… why did you give it to me?”

“As I said, I am a man of the mind. Is there a better way of learning one’s mind than to hear one’s uncensored truth?”

I rubbed my face, feeling violated. “You’re an asshole.”

“I’ve been called worse. Now, about Bo. This place puts two groups of men together: one to obey and one to rule. This dynamic always brings out the worst in people. Some try to fight it; others gladly embrace it. You, by rising above your station, have challenged the norm. To put it plainly, you’re making Bo feel small.”

“I’m not responsible for his fragile ego.”

“That’s beside the point. Either find a way to reinstate his sense of control or find a way to take him out.”

I leaned forward, the candle dancing at the bottom of my vision. “I like the second option better. Can you help me?”

He leaned forward as well, as if we were sharing a secret. “What would you like me to do?”

“Kill him.” The words slipped out of my mouth with ease.

“And how would you go about it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Jonah.”

“I’d choke him. Slowly. He should feel it happening.”

“Would you be able to do it?”

“Me? I… maybe. No. I can’t.” I tasted bile, the food gushing in my stomach.

“Do you feel weak, Jonah?”

“Yes. I’m weak. Shit.” I wiped my eyes.

“Don’t be harsh on yourself. Truth is never easy, but always liberating. As I said, if you can’t get rid of him, empower him. Nourish his ego.”

“I’ll try.”

“Good. May I give you a gift?”

I nodded suspiciously.

He walked to the side of the room and pressed a button next to the bed. “Look up.”

I raised my head to see the ceiling split open, revealing the night sky through a glass dome. I’d never seen so many stars in my life, blinking in the endless black. It had been months since I’d last seen the sky. It made me realize this place couldn’t possibly be close to a city, or the stars wouldn’t have shone so brightly.

“You’ll hurt your neck. Lie down.”

Still mesmerized, I made my way to the bed and lay facing the sky. The room around me disappeared as I floated in space. “It’s beautiful.”

Mr. White climbed onto the bed to lie next to me. “We should all look at the sky more often. It’s humbling.”

It felt cruel of him to say such a thing while I was locked in here.

“How does seeing this make you feel?” he asked.

“Sad.”

“Sad?”

“I’m beginning to believe I’ll never leave this place.”

“Never seems like an awfully long time. For now, take joy in the unusual path you’re paving.”

“Is that why you wanted to meet me?”

“I am a man guided by curiosity—to a fault, some might say.”

“Can you get me pills for anxiety?”

“What does your anxiety feel like?”

I wet my lips. It was easier to speak without looking at him. “Like I’m burning. Like there’s something inside me that wants to get out. It hurts in my bones. I can’t breathe, but I can’t pass out either.”

He remained silent for a few moments before saying, “I can help you, but not with pills.”

I tilted my head at him. “Then how?”

He reached for his shirt pocket and took out a small pin of the American flag. He moved to face me, resting on his elbow. “Controlled pain, Jonah, is a powerful cure and less risky than psychoactive drugs.”

“I have enough pain in my life.”

“I’m not talking about that kind of pain. Keep still now.”

I watched in shock as he brought the pin to my arm and stuck it into my flesh. “It hurts!”

“Focus on your breathing. Don’t look away.” He didn’t raise his voice, but he didn’t need to. As strong as the pain was, my fear of him was stronger. I bit my lips, moaning as he spun the tip inside my flesh. My sight filled with blinking lights, but I still saw the first drop of blood slide down my skin. An unexpected sense of relief washed over me.

“Better?”

I hesitantly nodded. “It still hurts.”

“I know.” He pulled out the pin, then stuck it lower in my arm.

I grimaced, heat swimming underneath my skin. Still aware of the pain, a part of me became detached, an observer rather than a participant. We didn’t speak as he kept poking, and soon, thin rivers of blood soaked into the bedsheet.

“Has anyone ever told you how strong you are, Jonah?”

Feeling lightheaded, I said, “Eliot did, but he’s a liar.”

“We all lie, some better than others.” He held the bloody pin above me. “Show me how strong you are.”

With shaky fingers, I took the pin.

“Show me,” he said again, and I did.

*

“I’m thinking.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You were about to.”

The Director twisted his lips in amusement.

A minute later, I moved my queen on the board. By the time it took me to lean back in my seat, I realized I was screwed. “Shit, I—”

“Language, Jonah. And checkmate.”

I rubbed my face in frustration. That had been my best game yet. “You can let me win from time to time.”

“I don’t reward failure.”

Harsh. “I think I’ve earned another drink, at least.”

“Half a glass.”

I rose from my seat in front of the fireplace and poured myself half a glass of wine before sitting back down. I took a long sip, feeling comfortable and sleepy, enjoying the warmth from the dancing flames.

“Have you been taking your vitamins?” The Director asked. Since I had no exposure to sunlight,the other captives and I needed to take vitamins regularly.

“I’ve been taking them.” I sipped more wine, wondering why he hadn’t yet asked about my meeting with Mr. White two days prior. Maybe he didn’t know about it, or maybe he was waiting for me to bring it up. I touched my arm, where the puncture marks had all but healed. Yesterday, I returned to my room to find a small box with needles on my bed. I hadn’t used them yet, but it was only a matter of time.

“I’ve met with Mr. White.”

The Director gave a slight nod, the fireplace making his graying hair seem golden. “I’m aware.”

“I don’t think you like him.”

“I don’t need to like him to respect his role.” He held my gaze. “Did he hurt you?”

I hesitated. “Not… physically.”

He sighed like he knew what I meant. “No one’s better at messing with your head than him. He doesn’t come here often, at least.”

I wondered if Mr. White had made him take the truth serum as well.

Someone knocked on the door, and my stomach dropped at the sight of Eliot. I hated when he came unannounced, but The Director had likely known and chosen not to tell me.

“Am I interrupting?” Eliot asked as if he cared.

“Jonah was just showing me how much he still has to improve in chess. I thought you’d be arriving tomorrow.”

Eliot shut the door and sat on the couch. “Another night in your company sounded better than another night in my empty house.”

“You should arrive in the mornings. I don’t like it when you drive all this way in the dark.”

“I’ll try to do better, big brother. Hello, Jonah.”

I asked The Director if I might be excused.

“Not yet, and you know how I feel about a lack of manners.”

I drew a breath and turned to look at Eliot. “Hi.”

He smiled, as handsome as always. “I brought you something.”

I knew better than to refuse, so I silently took the box he handed me and opened it. Inside were three strawberry almond rusks from what I assumed was my favorite bakery in LA. I hated how well he knew what I liked. “Thank you.”

The Director leaned forward and took a rusk.

“Since when do you eat sweets?” Eliot asked.

“Mr. White was here.”

Eliot sighed. “Then sweets and alcohol are indeed in order.”

“Why?” I asked. “He gave you your freedom, didn’t he?”

Eliot crossed his arms. “Please keep in mind that my ‘freedom’ came with limitations and that Mr. White doesn’t do anything without a motive.”

Like befriending someone so you could gift him to your brother? It took all I had not to say that out loud.

“He had dinner with Jonah,” The Director said.

Eliot watched me with concern. “Oh dear. Are you okay?”

Hearing that shattered my self-control. “Am I okay? Are you really asking me that?”

“Jonah.”

I ignored the warning in The Director’s voice and threw the two remaining rusks into the fire. “I don’t want your dirty gifts!”

“Okay.” Eliot raised his hands. “I understand. Please calm down.”

He was giving me a way out of punishment, and I knew better than to refuse it. “I don’t feel well. Can I go?”

The Director shook his head. “You feel fine, now zip your lips and listen. Nathan is proving to be a more difficult case than I expected, and now I have Mr. White who’ll undoubtedly be checking up on his progress.”

“Then why did you bring him here in the first place?” I couldn’t stop myself from asking. “He has a family.”

“It wasn’t my decision. Nathan used to work for a company owned by one of our most successful members. He saw Nathan and decided he wanted him here, logic be damned.”

It rattled me how easily a man’s life could be destroyed by someone more powerful, but all around me were living proof of such behavior, and hadn’t what happened to me been the same?

Noticing my bleak expression, The Director said, “It’s too late to change what happened, Jonah, and I would like for you to speak with Nathan.”

“Me? But he hates me!”

“He hates everyone here, but you are the best example of what good behavior can achieve. Make him see sense—it’s for his own good.”

I wanted to argue because I knew it was pointless, but the decision had been made. “Fine, I’ll speak with him.”

“Thank you. Before you go…” He held the remaining strawberry almond rusk in front of my face, either to embarrass me for acting out or because he knew I wanted a taste. He shook his head when I tried to take it from his hand. I opened my mouth instead and ripped a piece with my teeth, dropping crumbs on the floor. It annoyed me how good it tasted.

“Thank Eliot.”

I finished chewing and mumbled, “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.”

I left them before Eliot’s presence could taint me more.

*

The following day, Bo took me to see Nathan.

“What do you think I should tell him?” I asked as we walked toward my old cell.

“Tell him to stop being a drama queen.”

“He has a family.”

“Had.” We took a left turn and continued walking. “I got a new wig for you to try out—redhead this time. Super hot.”

I remembered what Mr. White had advised about making Bo feel bigger. “Can’t wait to try it out.”

He glanced at me. “You’re making fun of me, Prey?”

My stomach tightened. “No. It… it could be fun.”

He glanced at me again. “Fun enough for you to make those noises I like?”

I swallowed and forced out, “Depends on how hard you’ll fuck me.”

He snickered and patted my ass. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but you won’t hear me complain.”

We stopped in front of a metal door I remembered too well.

“Shout if he starts to bite.”

“Maybe you should go in with me.”

“Nope. The Director wants this to be a date.”

He unlocked the door, and I hesitantly entered, immediately hit by stuffy air and the foul odor of unwashed skin. Did I ever smell so bad?

Nathan lay on my old, thin mattress, naked and bruised. Some of the marks on his skin seemed fresh and angry, while others were fading. He lay with his back to me, his dark copper hair almost black from being unwashed. Freckles dotted his shoulders and upper back.

Bo shut the door behind me, but it didn’t sound as if he locked it. “Um, hello?”

Nathan slowly turned onto his back, watching me through one eye while the other remained shut tight. “What the fuck do you want?”

Maybe I should have brought water and food to calm him down.

“I came to talk.”

He pushed himself to sit with a grunt, running a hand through his messy hair. “Whatever you’re here to sell, I’m not buying. Get out.”

“I’m not here to sell anything, and you have nothing to lose by hearing me out.”

He sighed and leaned his head against the wall, his knees bent with his cock dangling between them. One of the first things we lost in this place was modesty.

“Did your boyfriend send you to see me?”

“Who?”

“You know who. The one who runs this place. The one you love working for.”

I dug my nails into my palms, telling myself he needed to let some of the rage out. “Yes, The Director sent me, but that doesn’t mean I’ll lie to you.”

He shrugged. “Whatever. Speak.”

“You’re wasting your energy by fighting. They won’t let you go because you’re being difficult—I’ve tried that from this same dirty room.”

“Will they kill me?”

I stalled, not sure what they might do and too afraid to ask. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

He shrugged. “That’s one way out of this place.”

“A coward’s way.”

He pursed his lips. “A coward, huh?”

I tensed when he moved to stand, almost losing his balance. “I’m not here to fight,” I said, my nervousness growing. “You have nothing to lose by trying. It will make your life here easier. Maybe someone will end up rescuing us—do you want to be dead for that?”

“Is that the bullshit they’ve been feeding you? Is that why you switched sides?”

“I didn’t switch sides. My life here is also hell.” Though it didn’t feel right claiming that given his dire state.

He took a step toward me. “Doesn’t look like it. You’re gay, right?”

“What? Yes. So what?”

He snorted. “Maybe you asked to come here. Plenty of cocks for you to play with.”

“Fuck you!”

He lunged at me. I didn’t think he could move so fast. His body crashed against mine, smashing my back against the wall. I opened my mouth to call for help, but he blocked it with his dirty hand. “Shut the fuck up. I may be weak, but I can still beat your ass. You get me?”

I nodded, shaking against his naked body. His stench was overwhelming, especially when I could only breathe from my nose.

“You make me sick,” he hissed into my face. “Coming here and trying to mess with my head. What did they promise you to make me play along? A bigger room? A foot massage?”

I shook my head as much as I could.

“You go and tell your boyfriend that—unlike you—I won’t break. They can either let me go or snap my neck. You hear me, little faggot?”

The door opened. I glanced aside with Nathan still blocking my mouth, relieved to see Bo for once in my life.

“Problem?”

Nathan tensed. “I was just telling this little sellout you won’t make me give in.”

Bo shrugged. “Whatever. You’re a pussy, anyway.”

What the hell was he doing?

With his hand still blocking my mouth, Nathan narrowed his eyes. “You think I’m a pussy?”

Bo glanced at me. “A real man would’ve beaten the shit out of him instead of throwing empty threats like a bitch.”

I never hated him more than I did right then.

Nathan’s eyes darted from Bo to me. “Are you going to get in my way?”

“Nah, I’ll just watch. I won’t let you kill him, though.”

“I’m not a killer, but I’ll take you up on your offer.”

He removed his hand from my mouth and took a small step back. Before I could try to flee, he sent his fist at the side of my head. Pain exploded, slicing through my skull. I tried to push him back, but he didn’t budge. I had never been in a fight in my life, but I had to do something. I sent my fist at his face, but he brushed it away before I could hit him, retaliating with a knee to my crotch. I gasped and sank to the floor, struggling to breathe.

“Careful with his pretty face.” Bo shut the door behind him. “And don’t rush it. We have time.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

2006

Hayden called when I was sitting at my station, making yet another pair of earrings. I muted Tori Amos on the stereo and answered with, “Jonah Carter’s Jewelry Services. How may I help?”

“Hmm, I’m calling about a nipple piercing.”

“We pride ourselves on being a respectable business, sir. I’m afraid we can’t cater to your nipples.”

“That’s a shame. Many people told me they were top tier.”

“Many?”

“A few dozen give or take. Is this your final decision, then?”

“I’m afraid so. May I interest you in a cock ring instead?”

He laughed, which meant I won.

“Doing jewelry again?”

“Yeah, I don’t have anything major I feel like working on.”

“Well, you always said it was a great way to switch off the brain.”

“True. I haven’t had a single thought in three hours.”

“Good.” He went quiet, and I felt that something was up.

“What is it?”

“I found him, Jonah. I know where Bo lives.”

We hadn’t talked about him since I’d identified his mugshot a few days ago. I’d almost gotten used to spending time with Hayden without obsessing over the case, both of us trying our hardest to talk about anything else.

“Based on the records, he doesn’t live far, and he also made it very hard to find him.”

“Where does he live?”

“Lakewood, on a street called Hardwick. It seems he has a family.”

“A family?” I snorted. “You’ve got the wrong guy.” There was no way in hell that Bo had a family, unless it was a family of hyenas.

“I think it’s him, but I could be wrong. I hope to know for sure this evening.”

My stomach clenched. “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t have the authority to question him, so I’ll park close to his house and try to take some photos. When I have something, I’ll show it to you. Once you confirm it’s him, it will help with our case for the FBI.”

“Are you planning on going by yourself?”

“Yes.”

“You need backup.”

“Joe—“

“I’m coming with you.”

“The hell you are. You could barely stand to look at his mugshot, so seeing him in person? Come on.”

He had common sense on his side, but I didn’t care. “It will just be us sitting in a car, right? I’ll be fine.”

“Yes, physically.”

I rubbed my temple in frustration. “You promised to stop treating me like a delicate flower. Was that a lie?”

He moved the phone from his mouth, but I could still hear his muffled curses. Once calmer, he said, “Can I pick you up from the studio in thirty minutes?”

So soon? “Yes.”

“You can still change your mind by the time I get there.”

“See you soon.”

*

It was already dusk when Hayden drove his car into the parking lot.

“Hi,” I said and climbed into the passenger seat.

He frowned at the cardboard box in my hands. “What’s that?”

“Doughnuts. Isn’t that what cops eat at stakeouts?”

“Fat cops.”

“I can throw it away.”

“Let’s not be hasty. Show me the goods.”

I opened the box, releasing a sweet pastry scent into the car. The two doughnuts I’d brought for Hayden were heavily sprinkled with cinnamon, while I’d gotten chocolate ones for myself.

“You know me well, Joe, even when you’re being fucking stubborn. Come here.”

We kissed, then headed off to Lakewood, leaving the city streets behind in favor of the suburbs with their white picket fences. The further we drove, the more ridiculous it seemed for Bo to be living in an area like this. I never expected him to stay with The Society for the rest of his life, but a man like that should either be living in a dumpster or dead in a ditch.

Hayden glanced at me. “You okay?”

“Yes.”

“I can still drop you off if—”

“You just want my doughnuts. I’m fine.”

He sighed and kept driving.

We parked in a quiet street, similar to the ten others we’d passed through on our way. “This one.” He pointed at a dark, two-story house farther down the road. “Maybe they’re out on errands.”

“It doesn’t look like the kind of place Bo would live in.”

“I’ve seen my share of monsters who blend in like normal people. This house tells us nothing of whoever lives inside.” He reached for the glove compartment, took out a camera and placed it on the floor next to his legs.

“What now?” I asked.

“We wait.”

“For how long?”

He chuckled and patted my leg. “It really is your first stakeout. There’s no way of knowing how long we’ll have to wait or if we’ll get anything.”

“Maybe they’re on vacation.”

“I called the house earlier and a woman answered—likely the wife, Donna. Maybe they went out to eat. Speaking of food…”

I opened the box for him to take a doughnut. “Hmm, that’s good. Taste.” He held it for me to take a bite.

“I don’t like cinnamon, but it’s nice.” I returned my gaze to the house. “Do you have your gun?”

“I do, but we won’t need it.”

“Even in self-defense?”

“We’re two people sitting in a car; there’s nothing to defend ourselves from.”

He was talking rationally and making me feel even more irrational. I tore my gaze from the house and looked back at Hayden, who had finished the first doughnut, leaving his lips glossy. “How was your day?” I asked.

He pulled out a napkin to wipe his hands. “It was busy. We’re working on a big drug bust downtown. We caught two dealers and got them to snitch, so now we have our opening.”

“I hope you didn’t catch whoever sells Jenny her pot; she’ll be pissed.”

He laughed. “It’s a bit more serious than Jenny’s pot. I’m just happy it’s putting me back on the Chief’s good side.”

“He cares about you.”

“Not as much as I thought, and not when it mattered the most. Anyway, Maya’s coming to LA next month. I told her she’d get to see you again. Hope I didn’t speak out of line.”

A month from now felt like a lifetime away, but it was nice to be included in his plans again.

“I’ll need to grow my hair back.” She loved my curls.

“You definitely should.” He lowered his voice. “You know how I like to grab them when…” His eyes narrowed. I followed his gaze. The car that had driven past us was slowing down before turning right into the driveway of Bo’s alleged house.

Hayden picked up his camera as I leaned forward, holding my breath. The light in front of the house was enough to reveal two young boys getting out of the backseat. They seemed to be about five or six, clearly twins.

“No running!” a woman called. She was chubby but carried her weight well.

“That must be Donna,” Hayden said.

I barely heard him. My entire focus was on that car, waiting for Bo to climb out, but he didn’t. Seconds later, the woman and her two children vanished into the house, and the lights inside were turned on.

“Damn,” Hayden said. “He’s not with them.”

I exhaled, my chest aching from holding my breath. I was about to suggest we leave when Hayden said, “I’m going to talk to her.”

I grabbed his arm. “You’re kidding.”

“I’ll say that I’m an old friend and ask where I can find him.”

“What if he comes home in a minute with their other car?”

He shook his head. “They have one car, a whole lot of debt, and one paycheck coming from Donna’s teaching job.”

Things made more sense if Bo was doing a shitty job providing for his family. I felt bad for that woman and her children, but I couldn’t help feeling satisfaction knowing that Bo was still Bo.

“It sounds like he might have left her and the twins,” I said.

“Yes, but I need to be sure.”

I unbuckled my seatbelt. “I’ll go with you.”

Now it was his turn to grab my arm. “Your bubbly butt is staying right here, Jonah. Bo might have been sleeping for all we know, which means he could be awake now. The last thing I need is for him to see you.”

The thought was gut-wrenching. I couldn’t imagine how I’d react if I were to face him again.

“Be careful,” I reluctantly said.

“Always.” He kissed my cheek. “Be back in a few.”

I watched him walk toward the house, moving with authority. He knocked, and seconds later, light spilled out as someone opened the door. Hayden smiled as he spoke, but I could sense his nervousness. His face turned serious at a certain point, like he’d heard bad news. I sat straighter, nervous and agitated. I only allowed myself to relax when he finally walked back toward the car.

He got back inside and said, “Bo—or Bobby to her—disappeared two years ago, leaving her and her sons behind. They’re not his biological children, but he was the only father they knew.”

“Does she know where he could be?”

“She claimed he left with another woman he was cheating with, likely to Boston where she has a family.”

“Did she say what Bo did for a living?”

“He lived off an alleged inheritance for a few years until the money ran out.”

So he was likely unemployed after leaving The Society, which didn't shock me.

Hayden started the car. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Can you take me back to the studio to get my car? I’ll sleep at my place tonight.”

“You sure?”

I nodded and looked out the window. I didn’t plan on using my needles, but I yearned for the peace and quiet only my house could provide.

We listened to the radio while we drove, some silly program where listeners called in to ask questions. When we reached my studio, Hayden killed the engine and asked, “Are you disappointed or relieved?”

“I think I’m both. Are we dropping the Bo line of investigation?”

“I’ll try to search for his current location, but since I’m doing everything under the table, I can’t utilize the same resources I usually have.”

In other words, it was likely a dead end.

“Can you think of anyone else who worked there back then? Any other name that I can search for?”

I closed my eyes and tried to focus. “I only knew first names, and I wasn’t as familiar with the others as I was with Bo.” On the radio, a caller was asking for dating advice, saying that she wanted to find a man who would take care of her because she was a hot mess.

Her words sparked something in the back of my mind, blowing away dust from a long-buried memory.

‘You’re not pretty or smart enough to land yourself a rich man, Amanda Tulip, so settle for whoever is willing to take good care of you.’

“Amanda,” I blurted. “Amanda Tulip!”

“Who’s she?”

“A makeup artist—a God-awful one—but she was there for most of the shoots.”

“Okay, good.” He took out his BlackBerry and wrote down notes. “Try to tell me everything you remember. Focus on one thing and let it lead you to another.”

“I think she was a few years older than me. Blonde. Sort of pretty. Not altogether sane.”

“Do you think Amanda Tulip was her real name? Sounds like a porn star.”

“She said the headmistress at her orphanage had called her that.”

“Hold on. If she grew up in an orphanage, that narrows down our search. Are you sure it was an orphanage and not a group home?”

“I… yes. She said orphanage. Does it matter?”

“Group homes replaced orphanages. They stopped using the term orphanage in the late 1980s.”

“She grew up in the early 1970s, maybe in the 1960s.”

“Then it adds up. It’s honestly a lot to go by.” He leaned forward and kissed me. “I love working with you.”

And I loved working with him, but I wished it was on any other case.

I unbuckled my seatbelt. “I should head back home. Keep me updated.”

“Of course. Let me know if you remember anything else.”

*

“I’m not sure about that.”

“Hon, you need to get out of your comfort zone,” Jenny said on the phone. “It will just be ten people. Fifteen tops. Maybe seventeen. And since it will be in our studio, you’ll feel more comfortable. I’ll bring wine and finger food.”

I sipped my tea on the porch, watching the sun set in the distance. “I’ll need to arrange my things first; maybe put up a stand for the jewelry.”

“Yes, we’ll need to spend the morning prepping up the place.”

“Can I wear regular clothes?”

“Nope, it’s a fancy event. How would Hayden want you to dress for a date?”

“Naked.”

“Well, let’s call that plan B. And speaking of the handsome devil…”

I sighed, not surprised that she would pry. She’d been there throughout my entire relationship with Hayden, though I never told her the real reason for our ugly breakup.

“We’re dating again. I think.”

“And what brought him back into our peaceful lives?”

“Circumstances.”

She chuckled. “Do you possibly have a vaguer answer? But never mind. As long as he puts a smile on your face—and a cock in your ass—I approve.”

“Always classy, Jen. See you tomorrow.”

“Wait. Is that a yes for the party?”

“Oh, so it’s a party now? But yeah, fine.”

We hung up, and I finished my tea. If this were any other time, I would have been worried about an event full of strangers, but it seemed insignificant given everything else going on. I was about to head inside when Hayden called.

“How are you?” he asked.

“I’m watching the sunset and drinking tea. I think I’m turning eighty.”

“I’d still do you when you’re eighty. Did you put too much sugar in your tea?”

“Maybe. Hmm, Jenny is organizing an event at the studio tomorrow evening. She’s inviting a few art lovers who could end up buying some of our stuff.”

“Sounds great. Didn’t think it was your style, though.”

“It’s not, but she knows how to push the right buttons. Do you… I mean, if you’re not too busy, do you—”

“Yes, Jonah, I’d love to spend an evening watching you play a polite host.”

“Dick.” But I was glad he’d be there.

“I have news.” His voice became serious.

“You found her?”

“I think so. Can I send her mugshot to your email?”

“Yes.” I waited for almost a minute for the email to arrive because of the weak reception. When it finally did, my body turned cold. I’d expected a mugshot of Amanda from before she was recruited by The Society, but her mugshot had clearly been taken a few years after I last saw her. Her blonde hair was a mess, and her eyes were puffy and red. Zits dotted her chin.

“It’s her. Was she doing drugs?”

“She was a junkie, yes. Her then-boyfriend called to report she’d burned down his car.”

“Jesus. Is she in prison now?”

“No, in a highly secured psychiatric department. She was found to be mentally unstable and a risk to herself and her surroundings. They sent her to Patton State Hospital.”

“Where’s that?”

“San Bernardino. I have some time off work the day after tomorrow, so I’ll drive over there and try to meet her. And no, you’re not coming with me.”

“We said—”

“I don’t want her to recognize you, and there’s no reason for you to waste your day driving all the way back and forth. I’ll try my luck and update you later.”

“Fine, but I don’t like it.”

“I’ll make it up to you.”

I glanced again at the mugshot of Amanda, feeling a twisted sense of joy at her downfall. She had it coming. They all had.

*

As expected, Jenny had invited more people than she’d promised. Around twenty well-dressed guests wandered around the studio, chatting among themselves or inquiring about the various pieces on display. We had lit scented candles around the studio, their flames creating dancing shadows on the walls. We also had jazz music playing in the background because Jenny claimed it was what sophisticated people listened to, or at least pretended to.

It was a good sign when the guests ignored my jewelry and focused on the sculptures instead, asking about my methods, inspirations, and choice of materials. I wasn’t used to discussing my work with strangers, especially not with strangers who knew their craft. After stumbling over my own words at the start, I grew more confident, almost like remembering a language I hadn’t used in a long time.

When Hayden walked in, I stopped mid-sentence. He wore a black blazer and dress pants that sat nicely on his frame. He was letting his stubble grow out these days, looking even manlier than usual. He seemed self-conscious as he gazed around.

“Excuse me. I’ll be right back.”

“The place looks great,” Hayden said when I reached him. “Even smells less like a dorm room.”

“Don't get used to it. You look very handsome.”

“Yeah? Not too much?”

“You can take something off if you prefer.”

He leaned in close to my ear. “Is that a dare, Joe?”

The way he lowered his voice sent a shiver through me. “Not a dare. Let’s get you something to eat.”

“Wait. People are watching us.”

I glanced around, noticing the curious stares.

He whispered, “Since we have their attention…”

I shook my head. “Don’t—”

He kissed me, making me lean back with his arms around my back. People cheered while Jenny called, “Told you there’d be entertainment!”

“You’re hopeless,” I said once he let me go, my face warm.

He patted my ass. “Go back to charming your guests. I’ll walk around.”

True to his word, Hayden didn’t need me to hold his hand. He mingled naturally and struck up conversations with ease, helping me sell one of my most expensive sculptures.

Toward the end of the evening, I noticed an older man standing alone at the side of the room, massaging his chin as he watched one of my sculptures intently. I didn’t want to bother him, but I was curious.

“Is everything okay?” I asked.

He glanced at me and nodded. “Yes, of course. Thank you for inviting me.” He kept observing the sculpture. It was a figure of a man stretched backward, his arms transforming into two waterfalls that merged into one. It had taken me forever to complete it, mostly because sculpting water was exhausting.

“How did you name it?” he asked.

“I don’t like to name my work; it feels limiting.”

“I never thought of it like that. This is truly a wonderful piece. I’ll buy it, of course—just name your price.”

“Wow. Thank you!”

“I am curious, though. Your work reminds me of other pieces I’ve seen at an acquaintance’s house. Did you make a bronze sculpture of a man with one angel wing?”

I knew what he was talking about. “Yes. I sold it a few months ago to an anonymous client. He buys a lot of my work.”

The man nodded, seemingly proud of himself for making the connection. “It makes perfect sense. Eliot always had an eye for fresh talent. You should be proud of yourself.”

*

I somehow survived the rest of the evening. When Hayden and I were finally alone, I told him what I’d discovered. We sat on the couch in the middle of the studio, jazz music still playing in the background. I turned on my laptop so we could go over every email Eliot had anonymously sent me since we started corresponding eight years ago.

“I have other anonymous clients,” I said, feeling ill. “Maybe they’re all him.”

“Maybe.” Hayden put his hand on my bouncing leg. “Don’t take it too harshly.”

“How can I not? I’ve been emailing him for years! We talked about plays we liked, books we read, and… shit. I’m so stupid!”

“Hey, cut it out. You had no way of knowing. I’d rather have him sending you emails than trying to meet you in person. From what I can see, there’s nothing incriminating in his emails that we can use against him.”

“I’m going to block his address.”

“Don’t. As far as he knows, you’re not on to him. Leave it alone for now.”

I sighed and turned off my laptop. The thought of my work being displayed in Eliot’s house was unnerving. How many bills had I paid thanks to his generosity?

“Other than this, did you have fun tonight?”

I forced my anger to subside, unwilling to let Eliot sabotage my successful evening. “It was better than I thought it’d be. It helped that you were here.”

“Please, you had them enchanted before I got here.”

“Still.” I leaned my head against his shoulder. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I love seeing you with people.”

“I felt rusty.”

“No one could tell. I felt proud seeing you in action—not that I have the right to feel pride about that.”

“You have the right.” I kissed his cheek.

He smiled and nodded. “Good to know. How many pieces did you sell?”

“Three, and expensive ones.”

“And how much would you have sold if we’d given them a sex show?”

“Hmm, maybe four.”

He laughed. “That’s it?”

“Could be five.” I cleared my throat. “Do you still want to drive to see Amanda alone tomorrow?”

He stroked my cheek. “Yes. You’ve had enough stress lately. Let me take this one.”

He was right. I’d only been able to sleep because of pills, and I hated taking them. “Just remember to update me the moment you can.” I glanced around at the mess. “Mind helping me clean?”

“Sure, but only if you do it naked. That’s non-negotiable.”

I rolled my eyes and rose to my feet. With his eyes watching me closely, I removed my clothes.

*

The aftermath of the dinner party didn’t fade the following day. I got dozens of phone calls from guests who wanted to order new pieces or to offer me a spot in their galleries. One even insisted on publishing an article about me in a fancy art magazine, and I found myself fighting my instincts and agreeing. It was overwhelming and wonderful, making me forget about Hayden’s visit to see Amanda for a few hours. Around noon, he texted me that he’d met with her and that it had been a waste of time. “She’s crazier than a bag of cats.”

I wasn’t surprised—she had been on the wrong side of sanity even back then. It dawned on me that another lead had just died, bringing us one step closer to the uneventful conclusion of this investigation. I once again felt selfish for wishing this to be over, but I couldn’t help it, and I owed no explanations in the privacy of my own mind.

Hayden promised to give me more details later that evening, but I returned home exhausted and fell asleep before we could speak.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

A loud knock on my front door woke me up. Groggy, I glanced at my phone and saw it was nine o’clock. Since it was a Saturday, I had no reason to wake up early. There were no missed calls from Hayden, even though we were supposed to speak yesterday, so it was likely him knocking.

“Coming!” I pushed away the blanket and put on a shirt, then made my clumsy way to the living room, where I once more vowed to buy some curtains. I unlocked the door, but it wasn’t Hayden on the other side.

“What happened?”

Wearing his uniform despite it being a Saturday, the Chief gave me a stern look. “May I come in?”

I moved aside to let him in, then asked again, “What happened?” He wouldn’t have come all this way if everything was okay.

“When was the last time you spoke with Hayden?”

Oh, God.

I leaned against the wall, my pulse pounding in my ears.

“Jonah, answer me.”

“We texted yesterday at around noon.”

“What did you talk about?”

“We…” Was this a trick?

He took a step toward me, deliberately intimidating. “No more games. Tell me everything.”

“We talked about the investigation.”

“The one I told Hayden to drop? The one I warned him about?”

I nodded numbly.

“Damn you, you and him both.”

“What happened? Fucking tell me!”

“I don’t exactly know.” He went to sit on the couch.

I unglued myself from the wall and slumped into my armchair. “Where is he?”

“Missing.”

I shut my eyes and drew a breath. Don’t panic. Just find out everything you can. “You said you don’t know what happened, so how can you be sure he’s missing?”

The Chief ran a hand through his gray hair, and I figured by the bags under his eyes that he hadn’t slept. “Hayden called yesterday morning to say he’d be late for work. It turns out that he visited Patton State Hospital and met with one of the patients.”

“With Amanda Tulip.”

Anger flashed in his eyes. “Yes. Who is she?”

There was no point in withholding information; secrecy felt like a childish privilege I no longer had. “She worked for The Society when I was there. Hayden and I were looking for people who might know where they’re keeping Nick.”

“Did you speak with Hayden after he left the hospital?”

“Like I said, we texted.”

“Show me.”

I went to get my phone from the bedroom, the familiar itch pulling me toward the bathroom where my needles waited. I pushed back the urge, grabbed my phone, and then returned to show the messages to the Chief. He read them before putting my phone on the table. “This tells us nothing. You wrote that you’d speak with him last night.”

“I fell asleep right after I got home.”

The Chief leaned back. “One of Hayden’s neighbors called the station last night to report sounds of struggle from his apartment. When the police arrived, there were signs of a fight but no trace of Hayden. We didn’t find fingerprints.”

Did they know he’d gone to see Amanda and decided he had crossed the line?

Still somewhat composed, I said, “Okay, so we know he’s been kidnapped. What do we do now?”

He shook his head. “Do you think I have any idea how to bring him back?”

“You do. The same people who told you to drop this investigation know where they’ve taken him.”

“You and I both know they’re untouchable. Besides, those orders trickled down the chain without involving specific names.” He rubbed his face. “Damn you, Jonah. I did everything I could to protect Hayden, while you pressured him behind my back.”

I opened my mouth to defend myself because I had also wanted Hayden to stop, but what was the point? I’d been working alongside him.

“Tell me everything about your investigation. Maybe there’s something we can use before it’s too late.”

Too late. My pulse continued to escalate, my fragile calm cracking like glass beneath a boot. I began to stand. “I need to use the bathroom.”

“Sit your ass down and start talking.”

I reluctantly sank back into my seat. “We… we wanted to gather information so that Hayden could go to the FBI with the help of his aunt. I spoke with my former agent, who’s also Nick’s agent, and she… she…” I began to scratch my arm, trying to relieve some of the heat that started growing beneath my skin. “Agatha said she had nothing to do with Nick’s disappearance, but I… I could tell that she was lying. She sent someone to threaten me, and I told him I wouldn’t ask any more questions.” I scratched harder, the heat beginning to fade. “There was someone named Bo who worked for The Society when I was there. We found his address, but his wife said he disappeared with another woman. Then I—”

“Jonah—”

“I remembered Amanda Tulip who also worked there. Hayden found out that she’d been locked up in an asylum. He wanted to go see her alone, and I—”

“Jonah, you’re bleeding.”

“What?” I looked down at my bloody arm. “Shit.”

“Go get yourself sorted. Take your time.”

I hurried to the bathroom, where I washed away the blood and covered the scratches with band-aids. I couldn’t afford to fall apart, though all I wanted was to pass out and wake up to a different reality. Still lightheaded, I returned to the living room and sat back down. While I’d been gone, the Chief had placed a glass of water on the table. I picked it up and drank.

“Do you know anything else about Hayden’s visit with Amanda?” I asked, forcing myself to meet his eyes, knowing he must have found me pathetic. “She may be the last person who saw him.”

“I spoke with her psychiatrist. He said not to believe a word coming out of her mouth. She claimed that Hayden tried to rape her, but it seems she says that about everyone.”

I rubbed my face. “Okay, so what’s next?”

“I’ll go visit your former agent if you think she has something to do with this. I’ll make it clear that I don’t care about any secret organization, only about a missing detective.”

I dared to hope that a visit from a police chief would carry more weight than a visit from me, but it was impossible to know with someone like Agatha.

“What can I do to help?” I asked.

“Keep your head down and let me know if anyone tries contacting you. Do you think they might be interested in a switch?”

“A switch?”

“Letting Hayden go and taking you instead.”

“Do you think they have any problem taking me whenever they want?”

“Then why didn’t they?”

“I don’t know.”

He watched me with suspicion but luckily didn’t press the matter. “Is there anyone else we can speak with?”

I nodded. “Eliot.”

“Fitzgerald? Hayden said that he was clean.”

Eliot was anything but clean.

“I’ll speak with him,” I said, knowing I was the only one who could get anything out of him.

The Chief nodded. “Do you know how to reach him?”

“Yes. I should also try to speak with Amanda, but I’ll do that as a last resort if she’s that crazy.”

The Chief was about to stand when an idea popped into my head. “Wait. Hayden’s aunt worked for the FBI. Maybe she can help us.”

He snorted. “Have you ever met that woman?”

“No. Why?” Hayden had always been vague about her.

“She was let go years ago, or rather kicked out. I met her once or twice, and God help us if we need to count on her for anything.”

I wasn’t willing to give up on any option, but I didn't push the matter. “Please keep me updated. I’ll do the same.”

We exchanged numbers, and before he opened the door to leave, he turned around and said, “A missing detective can easily make headlines, but I can’t let that happen.”

The wheels in my head began to race. Could this be my way of getting the truth out in the open? The police would have to get more cops involved if people knew about what happened to Hayden.

As if he could read my mind, the Chief took a step toward me. “If news of this goes out to the public, what do you think those people will do? A missing person can spark interest for a long time, while a murder investigation will fade out much faster.”

I crossed my arms, hating the logic in his words. “I hear you.”

*

Eliot,

I know this is your email address. I need to speak with you. You know why. When and where can we meet?

Dear Jonah,

I’d be happy to see you this evening at seven o’clock where we first met.

*

I couldn’t stay in my house any longer, so I drove to the ocean to wait until evening. I sat on the beach, the music in my headphones loud enough to drown out the sounds of bystanders, seagulls, and the waves.

I had zero appetite, but I couldn’t afford to face Eliot when I wasn’t at my sharpest, so I bought a sandwich and absently chewed it. If there was ever a time to wake up from a bad dream, this was it. They should have taken me instead. Maybe they’d thought that by getting Hayden out of the way, they were leaving me powerless, a non-threat.

The hours passed, and the air grew colder with the setting sun. When it was time to leave, I wiped the sand from my pants and returned to my car. Since the Chief had turned my life upside down that morning, the world seemed to move slower, with a fuzzy haze wherever I looked. I might have been in shock, but shock wouldn’t bring Hayden back.

When I parked in front of Avalon, formerly known as Pickles, I realized I had no recollection of the drive from the beach. I shook my head and slapped myself. Focus. I couldn’t face Eliot's sharp mind when I was out of my element.

I walked toward the entrance, noticing the restaurants that had opened since I was last here. I used to come to Pickles often, though Eliot and I used the club as a meeting spot before driving off to quieter places.

“You’re a bit early,” the bouncer said, standing up to his full six feet. He gave me a once-over, unimpressed by my plain jeans and blue flannel shirt.

“I’m here to see Eliot. He’s expecting me.”

The bouncer nodded. “Yeah, he told me you’d come. He should be here soon. You can go have a drink at the bar in the meantime. On the house.”

I thanked him and walked inside. My eyes darted in an attempt to piece together the gaps between my memories and the current state of the club. It looked completely different, making being here slightly easier.

A young bartender wiped glasses as I approached, his blonde hair standing in spikes. He noticed me and said, “Hey, man. We’re not officially open yet.”

“I’m waiting for Eliot.”

“Oh, right, the special guest! I’m Brandon. What can I get you?”

“Do you have orange juice?”

“You mean like with vodka?”

“I mean like with oranges.”

He made a face. “We have the best liquor in the world, man—don’t do this to me!” He sounded dramatic, and I wondered if he was an aspiring actor, working here when he wasn't drifting from audition to audition. A dark thought crossed my mind. Why hadn’t Eliot sent him instead of Nick?

Feeling bad for thinking that, I reluctantly said, “A bit of red wine, then. Barolo.”

“Fancy! Coming right up, handsome.”

I ignored his comment and took the opportunity to look around. The dance floor was larger than it used to be, and the booths now had seats covered in green velvet instead of red.

“There you go.”

As I expected, Brandon had poured too much. I took a few sips, acknowledging the high quality.

“Have you known Eliot long?” Brandon asked, leaning on his elbows and watching me with curious green eyes.

“Yes.”

“He’s great, isn’t he? I love how he talks. So smart.”

“Yeah.” I swirled the wine, glancing at my watch. Eliot was only a few minutes late, which was very much like him.

“Were you two a thing back in the day?” He kept his voice down, as if we were gossiping. “Though you’re much too young.”

I gave him an impatient look. “We weren’t.”

“Oh. Then you’re not gay? It’s hard to tell with some. I’m gay, but it’s like saying I’m blond—you can just tell.”

I chuckled despite myself. Even in LA, there had been a time when you couldn’t just ask someone that.

“Yes, I’m gay.”

Brandon clapped. “Wonderful! We should totally go on a date. You can choose the place—I’m terrible at making decisions, ask anyone.”

I opened my mouth to inform him there wouldn’t be a date, but the sound of approaching footsteps stopped me. “Brandon, are you harassing my dear friend?”

My skin crawled. I held the glass tightly enough to risk shattering it.

“Harassing? Me? Never!”

A hand on my back—a casual gesture he had no right making. I couldn’t bring myself to speak or even turn to look at him. Nothing could have prepared me for the storm inside my body. I’d been a fool to think I could face him.

But this is not about me.

Brandon frowned. “You okay?”

I managed a stiff nod as Eliot moved to stand beside me. His delicate fingers closed around my glass. He gently took it from my numb hand and had a sip. “Barolo. A fine choice.” There were a few more lines around his lips and at the corners of his eyes, but that did nothing to dim his beauty. His blue eyes were as vibrant and enchanting as the day we first met. He put the glass down and smiled. “Jonah, you’re still a sight. Isn’t he, Brandon?”

“Definitely! I was just hitting on him until you ruined it for me.”

“How will you ever forgive me?”

“A raise should help.”

Eliot waved his hand. “You’re making more than enough. Jonah, let’s go somewhere more private.”

I followed him deeper into the club, relieved he didn’t lead me down to the basement, like on the first night we met. I remembered Steven Nixson, the talented director who’d gotten a blowjob next to me, and who had later died a few years later from a heart attack while having sex with two prostitutes in Romania.

Eliot led me to a back office. I immediately noticed one of my sculptures standing on a shelf—an open palm holding a human eye. I had sold it to one of my anonymous clients three years ago.

Eliot sat behind his desk, following my gaze. “I never buy anything just to be nice. I cherish your talent, and I wanted to be surrounded by it.”

Despite myself, I appreciated him not trying to apologize. I sat on the other side of the desk.

“How did you find out I was behind that email address?” he asked.

“I had an event in my studio, and one of the guests recognized my work from your house.”

Eliot nodded. “I knew it was a matter of time. Rest assured that your art is presented with the utmost respect.”

“I don’t care. I’m here because of Hayden.”

“Who?”

I sat straighter, refusing to fall for his games. “You know who. Hayden. My… the detective who came to see you.”

His confusion seemed sincere. “I remember him, but I’ve no idea what brings you here to talk about him. Do you two know each other?”

What is happening? I leaned forward, my palms on the desk. “I need you to be honest with me, Eliot. Please.”

He nodded. “I’ll be as honest as I can, but you also need to be honest with me. Are you wired?”

“What? No.”

“Show me. I would not risk speaking freely otherwise.”

I sighed and stood, lifting my shirt before turning around. “Okay?”

“Almost.” His eyes traveled down.

“Jesus,” I hissed and dropped my jeans.

“Thank you. One can never be too careful.”

I raised my jeans and sat back down. I had so many questions, all battling on the tip of my tongue. I chose the most important one. “Do you know where Hayden is?”

“No. Why on earth would I know that?”

I believed him. God help me, but I did. “Hayden and I are together. He was investigating The Society, and yesterday he was kidnapped from his apartment. We dated last year until someone sent him an anonymous email with my old videos, edited to make it look like I was being willingly sexually tortured. We broke up after that and have recently gotten back together after Nick disappeared.”

Eliot cocked his head. “Does that mean you know Nick as well? Interesting.”

How could he not know that?

I bit my tongue and waited. I clearly had many missing pieces in my puzzle, and I needed him to help me solve it.

“Why would they send those videos of you?” he finally asked. “Because you were dating a cop?”

“Probably, but isn’t that something you can easily find out?” His cluelessness was hard to believe, given how deeply involved he’d been with The Society. Unless…

“Are you no longer with them?”

Eliot leaned back and sighed. “Well, isn’t that a loaded question? The short answer is no—I’m no longer with The Society. A lot has changed since you left.”

Dread grew in the pit of my stomach. If Eliot couldn’t help, what chance did I have to find out more? “If you’re no longer with them, then why did you give them Nick?”

He had the nerve to look apologetic. “Just as you have a cross to bear, so do I. In your case, it’s in the form of a tracker and a yearly brutal visit. In my case, my freedom was granted in exchange for delivering one young man to them each year.”

“You were doing that regardless.”

“While I was still with them, yes. But I wanted to leave completely, to sever my ties with them, and that was their price. They hadn’t asked me to deliver anyone for almost three years, and I began to believe that I was finally done with that part of my life.”

“So, what happened? Did Agatha tell you to give them Nick?”

He nodded. “She did, and I see that you’ve figured out her involvement. Nick’s case was peculiar because The Society had never asked me for anyone specifically. Since I’m no longer in contact with them, I couldn’t ask them directly about it, and Agatha agreed that this was indeed odd.”

Then it meant she hadn’t been the one to choose him. I was gaining more questions than answers. “I first met Nick a few weeks before he disappeared,” I said. “Do you think they knew about that?”

He shrugged. “Perhaps, although I can’t see why they’d care.”

I didn’t either. Seeing Nick a few times wasn’t the same as dating a detective. “Why did they put Nick’s video on the darknet? It makes no sense.”

He narrowed his eyes. “What video?”

“A video of him being tortured in the dungeon. The police found it.”

He shook his head. “I can honestly say that I’m shocked. That goes against everything I know about them.”

“Well, what about The Director? Can’t you speak with him and find out more?”

“Oh my.” Eliot sighed. “I have so many things to tell you.”

“I’m listening.”

“There’s no point, Jonah. If they’ve taken the detective, he’s gone. You know that. Let it go.”

“I’m not going to do that. If you tell me where the estate is, I’ll—”

“I don’t know.”

I smacked my fist on the table. “What the fuck does that mean? You’ve been there many times!”

He raised his hands. “Calm down.”

“They took him, Eliot. Hayden, he… shit.” I wiped my eyes frantically, my defenses crumbling. “His boss told him to drop the investigation, but he insisted on solving it behind his back. I tried to make him change his mind, but I didn’t try hard enough, and now…”

“Now he’s paying the price for his stubbornness, but if you end up dead, how would that help him?”

I couldn’t see myself moving on knowing that they had him, knowing what he was going through. That scar on my conscience would never heal. “How can you not know where they are?”

“The Society changes the estate every decade or so. When a new location is ready, they destroy the old one. Last time was about four years ago, but I was no longer a member by then.”

“And The Director?”

He shook his head. “My brother can’t help you, I promise.”

I stopped myself from asking why because the less I knew about Eliot and his brother, the better. “Then who can tell me? Someone must know.”

“They are out of your reach, Jonah. I can’t help you. Unless…” I didn’t like the look in his eyes, how they sparked with intent. “Unless we can help each other.”

I hated the thought of helping him, but we both knew I had no choice. “How?”

“Meet me tomorrow at noon.” He took a piece of paper and wrote down the address of a place in Simi Valley, over two hours’ drive from my house.

“Why there?”

“Ever so eager, Jonah. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

I called the Chief when I returned home, even though it was late. “I met with Eliot.”

“Was he helpful?”

“At the moment, no. He claims he’s no longer with The Society and that he didn’t know that Hayden and I were together. He wants us to meet again tomorrow.”

“Why?”

I was about to say that he needed my help, but my instinct told me to keep my mouth shut about that, at least until I learned more. “I’ll know more tomorrow. Did you meet with Agatha?”

“Yes. She didn’t give me any helpful information, but she did insinuate I was wasting my time.”

“Did you try to pressure her?”

“I know how to do my job, Jonah.”

Sitting on my couch, I leaned my head back, not surprised that Agatha had kept her mouth shut. That left Eliot as my only shot. “Are there any other leads?” I asked. “What about his aunt? Did you try speaking with her?”

“I won’t be doing that.”

“Why not? She can help with the investigation.”

“There is no investigation, and it makes no sense bringing more people into this damn mess.”

I got up and paced around, fighting to keep my temper under control. “She’s his aunt, and she was with the FBI. It’s not like you’ll be speaking with the press.”

“I don’t trust her. She’s unpredictable.”

“This isn’t about her or you.”

He took a breath, his annoyance almost telepathic. “I understand you’re upset, but you need to start accepting that this isn’t likely to have a happy ending.” Before I could respond, he added, “Meet with Eliot tomorrow and let me know how it went.”

He sounded like he wished I wouldn’t contact him at all.

*

Thanks to LA traffic, it took me nearly three hours to reach the address Eliot had given me. I drove with my window down, a nice summer wind blowing. I was aware of the risk I was taking by leaving LA’s borders, but I believed Hal’s assessment that I wasn’t being tracked around the clock and that the tracker wasn’t completely accurate.

I drove past a billboard for the latest X-Men movie. I couldn’t help but feel a flicker of bitterness every time I passed by one of those things, as if the world was rubbing my face in what I almost had. I had no way of knowing what would have happened if things had played out differently; I might have been a washed-up actor regardless of ever meeting Eliot, but since I couldn’t know for sure, the uncertainty still tasted sour.

“What the hell?” I slowed down as I reached my destination, which turned out to be Innerjoy Hospice Care, a two-story building. I eased my way into the parking lot as Eliot got out of his car. My stomach tightened at the sight of his beautiful turquoise convertible, Gloria. The memory of our time on the cliff resurfaced, followed by the memory of my last night of sanity at Eliot's house. He’d made a wonderful meal for me before I recited to him my favorite line from Death of a Salesman: “Why am I trying to become what I don’t want to be… when all I want is out there, waiting for me the minute I say I know who I am?”

I shoved the memories to the back of my mind and exited my car. Eliot walked toward me, wearing a simple button-down shirt. The touches of gray in his jet-black hair suited him. Everything suited him.

“I’m glad you’ve made it.”

“This is a hospice.”

“Indeed.”

“Why am I here?”

“Please follow me.”

Of course he’d drag the mystery. I followed him inside, where the AC was downright freezing. The elderly receptionist stood up and smiled broadly at Eliot. “I didn’t expect to see you here today.”

“Hello, Debbie. This is my dear friend, Jonah Carter.”

I hated the thought of anyone thinking I was Eliot’s friend, but I nodded and kept my mouth shut.

“Nice to meet you, Jonah. It’s the first time I’ve seen Eliot bring a friend with him. Why don’t you two go right ahead?”

I once more followed Eliot as he led me through quiet hallways. The photos of flowers on the walls weren’t enough to make the place any less depressing. The unpleasant scent of cleaning products mixed with fresheners made me queasy.

Eliot stopped next to a room at the end of a hallway. He opened the door and gestured for me to go inside. I had barely taken two steps when my body locked up. A man was lying on a bed, but I saw two versions of him. One was little more than a skeleton, his skin wrinkled and ashy, an oxygen mask covering his mouth and nose. The other version was of the man I once knew as The Director. With each passing second, the man from my past deteriorated, leaving behind this feeble form.

An oxygen machine filled the room with a monotonous humming sound, yet I could still hear my drumming heart. Eliot closed the door and walked past me, stopping next to the bed. “How are you, old man?”

I held my breath as a thin arm rose. Eliot held The Director’s hand, which seemed like it might snap under a bit of pressure.

“I’m the same as yesterday.” His voice was an echo of his former self, breathless and weak.

“I brought someone special to see you.”

My head spun. I wanted to flee the room, but I couldn’t move.

Eliot turned to me. “Please come say hello.”

This is not about me, I reminded myself, gathering the courage to move. Four heavy steps brought me to the foot of the bed.

“Oh my.” The Director removed his oxygen mask, gawking at me through milky eyes. “Have I traveled back in time?”

“Not quite,” Eliot said, “but this is as close as it gets.”

“Hello, Jonah.”

My tongue lay dead in my mouth, my lips glued together. Eliot cleared his throat, and I managed a feeble, “Hello.”

“I can tell by your face that you weren’t told what to expect.”

“No.”

“Well, I’m sure my brother has his reasons.”

Eliot smiled. “I always do.”

“Why am I here?” Now that my shock had somewhat dwindled, anger took its place. “You promised me answers.”

“Answers?” The Director coughed. “What answers can you possibly want after… after so many years?”

“Things have been happening,” Eliot said. “It seems that The Society has been reckless.”

The Director let out another bubbling cough. “You’re making no sense. Start from the beginning.”

I waited quietly, looking at anything but The Director’s face as Eliot filled him in.

“Putting that video online makes no sense,” The Director said. “But they’ve been falling apart for years. I wouldn’t be surprised if someone made a mistake. Still, snatching a detective… that’s the kind of risk they wouldn’t normally take. He must have come close to finding out something if they’ve taken such an… such an action.”

Eliot placed the mask over The Director’s face, waiting for him to take a few deep breaths.

“Do you believe this detective of yours is alive?” The Director asked once he’d removed the mask.

“Yes.”

“Is this your brain speaking or your heart?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

His cracked lips stretched into a smile, revealing yellowish teeth. “You were always stubborn, but maybe you should walk away from this before it’s too late.”

“I came here for answers, not advice. Who replaced you after you left?”

“We don’t know,” Eliot answered. “Mr. White and the rest of the High Council agreed to let Thomas and me leave after his cancer worsened, but we never learned who took over instead—nor did we care.”

“Then how can I find out where they took Hayden?”

The Director turned to Eliot. “They brought down the old place years ago. Do you know where they moved to?”

“No, but I will steer Jonah in the right direction.”

“That’s kind of you. You always had a soft spot for him.”

“As did you, eventually.”

The Director looked at me with fondness. “True.”

I gripped the bed’s railing hard enough to hurt. “Why the hell am I here?”

“You are here to do what I am too weak to do myself,” Eliot said quietly, almost like an apology.

The Director frowned, then his eyes flashed with understanding. “You wicked devil.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m ready. Hell, I’ve been ready for a long time. The question is, are you?”

Eliot opened his mouth, then closed it and covered his face. I stared numbly as he sobbed, beginning to understand why I’d been brought here.

“No.” I took a step back. “Forget it.”

Eliot wiped his face. “Does this mean you agree?” he asked his brother.

“Yes, and I’m proud of you. You were always the strong one.”

Eliot chuckled bitterly. “That’s the morphine speaking.”

“I’m not fucking doing this!”

“You are.” Eliot met my gaze, determination in his eyes. “This is the only way I’ll agree to help you.”

“It isn’t worth it.”

“Then leave.” He gestured with his head to the door. “Go and find Hayden on your own.”

In my head, I stormed out and left this madness behind me, but in reality, I didn’t move an inch. It had been over a decade since I last saw these people, and the moment I stepped back into their domain, their darkness once more consumed me.

“You owe me this help,” I said through gritted teeth. “I gave you enough!”

“I know, but I must be unfair to you one last time.” He came to stand behind me, resting his hands on my shoulders. “I need you to be strong for me, Jonah. I have no right asking you for anything, but I am begging you to show me and my brother this mercy.”

Like the mercy they have shown me?

My stomach swirled, sweat breaking across my skin. Knowing that the dying man in front of me deserved it didn’t make it easier, though I wished it had. “How… how should I do it?”

“I have a syringe. Inject him with—”

“No.” The Director cleared his throat. “No evidence. We can’t risk anyone finding out what happened. Use a pillow. I have barely any air left in my useless lungs as it is.”

Eliot sighed behind me. “Jonah?”

I gave a stiff nod. The decision had been made; the details were irrelevant. I would be leaving this room with blood on my hands, and if Eliot ended up lying about helping me find Hayden, I might have more blood on them soon.

Eliot went to kiss The Director's forehead. “Until we see each other again, brother.”

“Take your time. I can wait.”

Eliot went to the closet and pulled out a pillow, staring at it before saying, “Oh my. This is really happening.” He looked at me with glossy eyes. “Please take this pillow, Jonah. I’m afraid my feet are refusing to move.”

My own feet were also not cooperative, but I managed the few steps I needed. I took the pillow from him and walked to stand next to the bed. The Director tried to meet my eyes, but I hissed, “Don’t look at me.”

“I’m proud of you, Jonah, and I am sorry for everything.”

I wanted to call him a liar, but I couldn’t because I believed him. I shut my eyes to control my nerves, and in the darkness of my mind, his old office emerged, with the fireplace and the long leather couch. The bottles of expensive wine and the chessboard he used to love. And among all those things was I, hating this man yet unable to deny the safety his presence had provided.

It made me hate him even more.

I opened my eyes, my throat tight. “You should’ve said no. When he asked you to take me, you should’ve said no.”

He looked away. “I know.”

Eliot moved to stand by the foot of the bed, his face pale and his palms gripping tightly to the railing. He was going to witness this.

There was nothing more to say. I wished for this to be easy, but it took everything I had to press down the pillow until it was over.

*

I sat on a wooden bench outside, waiting for Eliot to finish whatever one does in this situation. By the time he finally came out, the sun had begun to descend. I looked away from the hollowness in his eyes, pushing down the urge to say something comforting.

He sat next to me and leaned with his elbows on his knees. “Lovely people. They are sad to say goodbye to Thomas.”

I always knew his name, but it never felt right to call him anything other than The Director.

Eliot pulled out a thin metal box from his pants pocket. “Want one?” I took a cigarette and waited for him to light it for me. We smoked in silence as employees from the hospice began to leave, chatting like there wasn’t a corpse lying close by.

Once we finished smoking, I said, “I’m listening.”

Eliot turned on the bench to face me. He seemed exhausted yet focused. “Amanda’s your key.”

“Amanda?” My anger flared. “I already know where she is. I was going to speak with her anyway. Is that your help?”

“Calm down. What were you planning on doing?”

“Try to find out what she knows.”

“Didn’t Hayden try that?”

I hesitated. “He did.”

“And that turned out great. Now, be quiet and listen. Amanda is being watched. Ever since she got in trouble with the law, The Society has been paying staff members to keep an eye on her. Why they haven’t killed her is anyone’s guess, but I doubt it will stay that way for long after she got a visit from a detective. They might wait a while to avoid raising suspicion, but she’s living on borrowed time.”

“How will I get the information Hayden couldn’t?”

“By not trying to talk to a highly sedated woman.” He slipped his hand into his back pocket and pulled out an envelope. “Take this.”

I peeked inside at the stack of bills.

“That’s three thousand dollars,” Eliot said. “Give it to a man named Frank. Tell him you need to speak with Amanda—the real Amanda. He’ll know how to bring her back to a somewhat functioning state, at least for a little while. Be there an hour before visiting hours close; that’s when Frank is the only employee with ties to the Society.”

“Maybe he changes his shifts.”

“I called yesterday to check.”

“You told him I was coming?”

“I didn’t speak with him; I pretended to be working for the hospital’s insurance company and asked for everyone’s schedule so I could set up appointments.”

“But why would Frank help? Doesn’t The Society pay him more than three grand?”

“Frank has no idea who pays him a few hundred bucks a month; he just knows what they expect of him. He’ll appreciate the three grand, especially if he’s still gambling like he used to. Once he helps you, he won’t snitch on himself.”

I glanced again at the stack of bills, my confidence slowly growing now that I had a plan to follow. “Anything else?”

“Yes. Amanda will still be hazy, so you’ll need to steer her to get anything of value. People like her were never told the location of the estate.”

“What? Then how—?”

“They get picked up from a motel and are not allowed to see the way. Once The Society moves their estate, they find a new motel and shut down the old one. Since Amanda worked with The Society until three years ago, she should know the location of the current motel. Once you find it, you’ll be one step closer to finding the estate.”

“Can’t you find out the location without having me bribe people in an asylum? You know about Frank, so obviously you’re still involved.”

“I am not involved; I simply make sure to keep track of those who might one day open their mouths about The Society, and indirectly—about me.”

“People like me?”

He smiled sadly. “My lingering interest in you has nothing to do with fear, Jonah.”

I leaned back and collected my thoughts in light of this new information. I’d hoped Eliot would provide me with clearer answers, but he was giving me the best he could.

“Is there anything else you think I should know?” I asked.

“Yes. You are a fool for not letting this go. Something is clearly happening over there, and this is not the time for you to go looking for them. Their decline started years ago—let them die on their own.”

In other words, let Hayden die with them.

I rose to my feet. “Please let me know if you hear anything else. Otherwise, stay away from me. That includes your anonymous emails.”

I walked away before he could respond.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Agatha was found dead at her apartment.

I learned about it while checking for news online, right before I was about to leave to see Amanda. The article didn’t say much, just that she was found by her maid, and her cause of death was assumed to be suicide. I watched her smiling face for a long time. The photo was taken at a red-carpet event a few years back, long after she’d sold me to The Society. I searched deep inside myself for any sort of emotion, but found only cold apathy.

My past was rapidly dissolving around me, and it remained to be seen if I was destined for a similar fate.

The Chief called as soon as I closed my laptop. I had texted him yesterday that I'd gotten a lead from Eliot about Amanda and The Society’s motel.

I answered the call. “I’ve heard.”

He sighed. “A real shitshow this is turning out to be.”

“Someone must have seen you going to talk to her, or maybe she told the wrong people about that.”

“Either way, she’s dead. Overdosed on sleeping pills. No signs of struggle, but the security cameras in the building malfunctioned for thirty minutes last evening.”

“How convenient.”

“I’m not taking this further, Jonah. I see where this is heading, and I won’t die for this cause.”

I let his words sink in, surprised by how little effect they had. In a way, I was relieved not having to count on someone I didn’t fully trust. He could have easily fed me false information.

“I’m not stopping,” I said.

“That’s up to you. Just know I’ll deny any connection to this. But still, I wish you luck.”

There were many things I wished to tell him, but I had more important things on my mind. I hung up and hit the road on my way to madness.

*

It took me close to an hour to drive to San Bernardino, where Patton State Hospital was located. From a search I’d done online, I found out it was built in 1890 and had been referred to as “The Insane Asylum” for years. The place had been demolished after the 1923 earthquake and then rebuilt.

I had expected more traffic and ended up arriving too early. Eliot had said I should be there when the morning shift was about to finish. To pass the time, I went to eat at a small taco place. In the last few days, I’d been mostly surviving on caffeine, too stressed to eat proper meals. I suspected I’d need all my energy for what lay ahead.

When the sun showed signs of descending, I headed to the hospital, the three thousand dollars in my back pocket making walking uncomfortable. It was easy to get lost, but I’d checked in advance for the psychiatric ward location. It was a one-story gray building behind the actual hospital. I walked past security, then made my way to the reception desk, where an older woman with gray hair sat reading a magazine about knitting. She slowly raised her eyes over thick glasses. Her name tag read, “Sherlyn.”

“Hey,” I said.

“How can I help you?”

“I’m here to see a patient.”

She cocked her head like she was trying to remember if I’d been there before. “Which patient are you here to see?”

I’d been debating whether to ask to see Frank, but since he could just come out to meet me, it would make it harder to enter the ward later. “I’m here for Amanda Tulip.”

She frowned and put her magazine down. “Amanda? Are you also a cop?”

Damn. I hadn’t counted on anyone remembering Hayden’s recent visit. If I had claimed to be a cop, she would likely ask for a badge. “I’m not a cop, just an old friend.”

She leaned back and crossed her arms, watching me closely through her glasses. “I didn’t know Amanda had any friends. I’ve also never seen you here before.”

I kept my face blank. “I didn’t know she was here until recently. We lost touch.”

“I see. Well, did you get your visit cleared with her psychiatrist?”

“Um, no.”

“Only family members can see patients without clearance, and even that is not recommended.” She glanced at her magazine, clearly ready to move on from this conversation.

I cleared my throat. “But Amanda doesn’t have a family. She’s an orphan; that was where we met.”

Her face softened a bit, her eyes no longer glancing at the magazine. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

I leaned on the counter. “We all deal with the cards we’re dealt with.”

She sighed. “Ain’t that the truth?”

“Amanda and I used to talk about getting out of that place and making a good life for ourselves. I hoped she’d succeed, but then I heard she was here.”

Sherlyn nodded sympathetically. “She won’t be making a good life for herself any time soon, I’m afraid.”

“That’s a shame. I live in San Jose and thought I’d come to say hello, to let Amanda know not everyone has forgotten about her.” I looked down. “I guess it was dumb.”

“No, no. Your heart was in the right place, dear. And San Jose, you say? That’s a five-hour drive!” She glanced around, although it was clear we were alone. “I tell you what: visiting hours are almost done, but I can slip you in without all the bureaucracy. Just promise you’ll keep this between us, capisce?”

I gave her a grateful smile. “You’re a peach, Sherlyn.”

She waved her hand, slightly blushing. “Let me holler for someone to take you in. We don’t let anyone walk around unsupervised. Some of our patients can get riled up easily.”

I nodded and took a step back as she picked up the phone. If anyone other than Frank came out, this would end up being a waste of time. I couldn’t imagine slipping in again without official clearance.

“I have someone here to see Amanda,” Sherlyn said on the phone. “Amanda Tulip, you dummy—we only have one Amanda.” She rolled her eyes. “He’s waiting at the reception. Don’t keep him waiting.” She hung up. “He’ll be here in a heartbeat.”

I opened my mouth to ask who was coming, but that would’ve been suspicious. “Thanks a million.”

She smiled and returned to her magazine. I waited anxiously for the nearby iron door to open. When it finally did, a tall black man walked out. “You’re for Amanda?” He sounded ready to be done with his shift.

“Yes.”

“Come with me.”

I walked toward him and was about to read his name tag when he turned around and started walking. Annoyed, I hurried to follow him through an overly bright hallway. He walked quickly, his legs longer than mine. I almost had to jog to keep up.

“I’m Jonah,” I said.

“Hi.” He kept walking.

“Wait. I think I forgot something in my car.” I stopped and made a show of tapping my pockets.

He turned around. “What did you forget?”

I hurried to read his name tag. James. Damn it.

“Never mind.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Okay…”

We continued walking. I hoped to get through to Amanda regardless of her state, but I wasn’t optimistic. Hayden had said it was pointless. We reached another door that James needed to open with a security tag. Two men were on the other side, leaning against another reception desk and talking. James walked past them, but I slowed down to read their name tags. One was called Andy, and the other one was Frank.

I halted in front of them, causing them to stop talking. Frank appeared to be in his late forties, the owner of a beer belly and a crooked nose. His dark hair was long and unkempt.

I cleared my throat. “Hi, Frank. Haven’t seen you in ages.”

“Huh? Do I know you?”

I was painfully aware of three sets of eyes watching me. “C’mon, you remember. We met at Eliot's party.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You’ve got the wrong guy. I don’t know any Eliot.”

Well, fuck me sideways. “Sorry. I must’ve gotten you mixed up with somebody else. I’ll just head over to see Amanda Tulip.”

I returned to James, who seemed impatient. We barely took five more steps when Frank called, “Hey, wait! I remember you now. Yo, Big J, I’ll take him to see Amanda.”

James didn’t need much persuasion. “Be my guest. I’m heading out.”

Frank hurried to catch up, then led me deeper into the building. The pressure in my chest subsided with another hurdle taken care of, yet the biggest challenge still lay ahead.

Frank stopped walking when we reached an empty hallway. “What’s going on?”

“I need to speak with Amanda. Eliot told me you could help.”

“Why me? You were about to see her anyway.”

“I need her sharp.”

He snorted. “She’ll never be sharp—not in a million years.”

“I know you can do it. It will just be for a few minutes; enough time for me to get some answers.”

He rubbed his bearded chin. “Do the Shadow People know you’re here?”

Shadow People? I remembered Eliot saying Frank had no idea who The Society was. “They don’t know, and I need you to keep your mouth shut about it.” I pulled out the envelope and handed it to him. “Three grand.”

He whistled and peeked inside. “Sweet. I don’t know why people are interested in Amanda all of a sudden. There was a detective here a few days ago.”

A dark realization hit me. “Did you see him?”

“The detective? Sure. I called the Shadow People right away.” He glanced at the envelope before sliding it into his back pocket. “Nothing for you to worry about, though. I’m a man of my word. Hmm, you okay?”

I needed to stop glaring at him with murder in my eyes, but it was difficult. If I got a chance to snitch on him to The Society, I would do so in a heartbeat.

“I’m okay,” I said.

“Cool. Visiting hours are almost done. We’ll need to be quick.”

“Then let’s be quick.”

*

I waited outside the room while Frank did whatever was needed to make Amanda carry on a short conversation. After about ten minutes, he returned. “I did what I could in such a short time. Whatever you want from her, you better get to the point quickly.”

I nodded and entered the room. Amanda sat on the only bed, wearing a bluish hospital gown, her pale arms wrapped around her bent knees. She rocked back and forth, humming a tune I didn’t recognize. Her long, blonde hair was filled with tangles and bald spots.

How many men had she rubbed cheap makeup on before cheerfully sending them off to go through hell?

I drew a breath and cleared my throat, but she didn’t acknowledge me. I took a step closer. “Amanda?”

After a few seconds, she slowly tilted her head at me. Her eyes seemed hazy, a bit of drool dripping from her slack mouth.

Is this supposed to be her lucid version?

“Do you remember me?” I asked.

She narrowed her eyes, still absently rocking back and forth. “No. Are you here to finger me?”

“No.”

She winked—or tried to. “Do you wanna?”

“I don’t. I’m Jonah Carter. We met a long time ago.” I took another step forward, but not close enough in case she tried attacking.

“Jonnnnah.” A shred of recognition flicked in her eyes. “Oh, I remember you! Pretty Jonah. Where are your curls?”

“I cut them.”

“With a sharp knife?” Her eyes lit. “Did you bleed?”

“No. I need to ask you something. It’s about The Society.”

She scowled and shook her head. “I ain’t talking about that.”

“I just have one question, and then I’ll leave you alone.”

She shook her head more frantically. “Nope. Not talking. Not a peep. They’ll take out my tongue and make me eat it.”

“Amanda, please. Just one question. I know you had to stay at a motel for them to take you to the estate. Where was the last motel?”

She began humming loudly, her eyes shut tight. I was losing her.

“Amanda, do you remember The Director?”

She stopped humming and opened her eyes, looking more curious than before. “The Director who got sick?”

“Yes.”

“Is he still alive?”

“He… yes, but he needs your help.”

I finally had her full attention. “How can I help?”

“The medicine he needs was left at the motel. If you tell me—”

“Liar! He never knew about that motel. He left before they started using it. Liar!”

I raised my hands to calm her down, afraid that Frank or someone else would barge in to drag me out. “Amanda, I never said he was there, but the medicine is—he told me that. Do you want him to die?”

She looked away, once more humming. It took all I had not to shake her. I worried she was already slipping back into whichever drugs they were feeding her.

“Just tell me where the motel is, and I’ll tell The Director you’ve helped me. He’ll be so happy.”

“Will he get me out of here?”

“Sure.”

She smiled nastily, making me worry she could see through my lies. “I’ll tell you where the motel is. Come closer.”

My instincts told me to stay back, but she must have sensed my desperation. I forced my legs to carry me forward until I was next to her bed. I remained still when she raised her hand and brushed her fingers against my cheek.

“I saw them fucking you,” she whispered. “You were very good.” Her fingers traveled lower, reaching my chest.

“Where is the motel?”

“It’s not a very nice motel.” She circled my nipple through my shirt. “I saw bugs there and a rat, but it might have been a kitten. They don’t let me have a kitten here, but they sure love my pussy.”

“Please tell me where—”

A knock on the door. “Hey, hurry up.”

Shit. “What do you want?”

She reached down and cupped my crotch. I grabbed her hand. “No.”

“Ooh, dirty Jonah wants to. I know you do.” She squeezed harder. “Take it out. I know you’re queer, but I’ll make it hard.”

I hissed and reached my hand between her legs, under the hospital gown. Amanda gasped and leaned back, spreading her legs and letting go of my crotch. She wasn’t wearing underwear. I swallowed my bile and massaged near her entrance. “Feels nice?”

“Y-yes. Go inside. It feels good inside. There’s rainbows inside.”

I slid two fingers into her, twitching them until her eyes rolled back. She rocked her hips back and forth on my fingers, moaning and groping her breasts. The bed squeaked.

“If you don’t tell me where the motel is, I’ll stop.”

“No, no. Don’t stop. Touch my rainbow.”

I slid my fingers deeper. “Tell me.”

Between breathless moans and groans, she finally did.

*

Despite my latest heated conversation with the Chief, I hoped to change his mind with what I’d discovered. I called him on my way back from the hospital, but he didn’t answer. I called him again once I was back home, and it went straight to voicemail. I knew he was ignoring me, but he was a fool to think I’d give up. I’d march straight to the station if needed.

I took a long shower, scrubbing Amanda off of my skin. The second she’d given me the location of the motel, I left her spread-eagled and pleading on the bed. Discovering the motel’s location wasn’t like finding the estate itself, but it was a whole lot better than what I had before.

After I’d eaten, I tried again to call the Chief, and this time he answered.

“Yes, Jonah?” He didn’t try to hide his impatience.

“I spoke with Amanda. I know where the motel is; where The Society picks up the employees from.”

He stalled before saying, “Can you be sure they still use the same place?”

“Eliot said they don’t change it frequently. It’s the best lead we have. Can you set up a team to survey the place? It’s in Tecopa, close to Vegas. The motel is called Delight's Hot Springs Resort.”

“A team?”

“Yes. I can’t do it by myself.”

“Wasn’t I clear this morning when I told you I was done with this?”

I dug my nails into the table. “I know what you’ve said, but I got the information we needed. If we can just track down those people at the motel, we’ll find the estate and Hayden.”

“Jonah, I’m not sending a team to the desert because you talked to a crazy woman.”

I hated how he dismissed my efforts. “I believe her, and if we end up wasting our time, no harm done.”

“No harm done? Do you think I have extra manpower lying around?”

“I don’t need ten people. One or two should be enough.”

“The answer’s still no.”

My leg began to bounce, my heart beating faster. “I know you’re trying to bury this, but I won’t let you.”

“It’s not up to you.” He drew a breath, and my body tensed before he dropped the bomb. “Hayden was abducted in relation to a drug investigation. We don’t have any further leads at the moment.”

My mouth went dry. “What?”

“This will be the statement the department sends out tomorrow. It’s over, Jonah.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I’ll reach out to every news outlet in LA and tell them the truth.”

“They won’t—”

“Most would think I’m crazy, but this is LA, and people here love a good scandal. I just need one reporter to believe me, and then your delicate house of cards will start tumbling down.”

“If you get your story into the news, how long will it take The Society to kill Hayden?”

“He’s as good as dead either way, and I’d rather take you down with him.”

“You’re playing with fire.”

“I have nothing else left to play with.”

He remained quiet for a long time. I expected him to hang up, but he eventually said, “I’ll help you get hold of his aunt, Tammy.”

I opened my mouth to say that wasn’t enough, but Hayden’s aunt was my best chance at reaching the FBI, as Hayden had planned on doing. I couldn’t help but feel this might be a trap, but I was desperate.

“Okay,” I said. “Where can I find her?”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Even with a strong pill, my sleep was restless. I woke up feeling like I hadn’t slept a minute. Sitting at my kitchen table, I gulped down a strong, bitter coffee, refreshing all the major local news websites. When Hayden’s name finally appeared on my screen, it felt as if I’d been electrified.

‘Local detective, Hayden Scott, has gone missing in what is believed to be a drug-related incident.’

I read on, barely stomaching the lies the police had fed the press.

‘The police are asking anyone with possible leads to come forward.’

A troubling thought surfaced in my mind. Had the police just made it easier for The Society to kill Hayden? They had practically given them a cover story, so what stopped them from killing him and dumping his body for the police to find? Case closed.

I snapped my laptop shut, almost hitting my fingers. I couldn’t let such thoughts set roots, not when every minute was crucial.

The Chief hadn’t given me Tammy’s phone number, just her address. When I searched for it online, it didn’t seem as if anyone lived on Cotharin Road in Malibu—at least not on the section of the road where Tammy allegedly lived.

I was about to get ready to leave when Jenny called. I picked up, and she immediately exclaimed, “Oh my God, I just saw the news! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I—”

“Oh no! Don’t tell me you haven’t heard yet. Am I breaking it down to you right now? Please don’t say that I’m doing that!”

“Calm down; I know already.”

She let out a breath. “Good—I mean bad! This is very bad. Do you know more than what they’re saying on the news?”

I itched to share the truth with her and unload some of this burden, but I couldn’t put her in danger. “I don’t know anything else. The police… they’re investigating.”

“They better! Are you coming to the studio?”

“No, I have things to take care of.”

“You shouldn’t be alone, Jonah. I can come over to your place.”

“Thanks, Jen, but I’m okay. I’ll speak with you later.”

“I’ll be waiting for your call. You’re not alone in this, okay, hon?”

That one got to me, making my eyes sting with gratitude. But like it or not, I was alone in this, unless I’d get Hayden’s mysterious aunt to help. I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Thank you.”

*

For someone who had spent years mostly driving from his house to his studio, I’ve been seeing more of California lately than I have in ages. And if it meant I might catch the attention of The Society, so be it. It could end up being my fastest way to their estate—or to a bullet in my head.

I didn’t know whether Tammy would be home. The woman was an enigma, and even Hayden had been vague about her story. LA’s wide roads grew narrower the farther I drove. When I reached Cotharin Road, I slowed down so I wouldn’t miss the address, though I didn’t notice any houses around. It was the kind of road you drove along to reach somewhere else. Was that why Tammy chose this place?

If it hadn’t been for the faded red mailbox on the side of the road, I would have missed my destination. I squeezed the brakes and drove back, glad there wasn’t any traffic behind me. Beyond an iron fence and between clustered trees, I could just barely spot a house. The number on the mailbox confirmed I was at the right place. Since I couldn’t park on the side of the road, I eased my way through the gap in the fence, which was barely wide enough for my car to squeeze through.

I slowed to a stop when I reached the front of the one-story house. The walls had been painted blue, but time had faded them into pale gray. An old Ford was parked close by, next to a small, well-tended vegetable garden.

I killed the engine and climbed out. An angry flock of birds chirped as if urging me to turn back. Before I could take one step, I heard the approaching sound of footsteps on a wooden floor. The front door creaked open, and an older woman stepped out. The first thing I noticed was her shotgun, aimed at the floor—for now. She stood stiff like a pole, emphasizing her six-foot height. She wore black sweatpants and a denim jacket with patches, her long, gray hair blowing in the warm wind.

“Whatever you’re here to sell, you’ve come to the wrong place.”

The birds grew quiet as if to listen.

“I’m not here to sell.”

She sized me up, her face stoic and unreadable. She might have been pretty back in the day, but her demeanor was too frigid now. “Then what do you want?”

“Are you Tammy?” It felt polite to ask, although I had no doubt.

“Who’s asking?”

“Jonah Carter. I’m a friend of Hayden.”

“As in my nephew Hayden?”

“Yes.”

She sized me up again. “I assume you wouldn’t have come here if everything was okay.”

I nodded. “Can we talk inside?”

She gestured with her head for me to come in, then turned and walked inside. I exhaled and followed her. The second I stepped inside the house, I noticed the smell of herbs—not unpleasant, but overwhelming. The kitchen was small and packed with too many plants. The living room was on the other side, slightly bigger but with even less furniture than I had.

“Tea?” she asked.

I was about to decline, but this was going to be a long talk. “Yes, thank you.”

“You like your tea fruity.” A statement, not a question, but she was right. I sat at the small kitchen table, my hands on my knees. Like in my house, there were no family photos on the walls.

Standing with her back to me as she prepared the tea, she asked, “Are you Hayden’s lover?”

“I… yes.”

“He mentioned you a while back. I thought you two were over. It didn’t sound like a pleasant breakup, though he didn’t go into the specifics.”

“It wasn’t pleasant.”

I heard her crumbling leaves. “And now you two are back together?”

“Yes.”

“Sex must be good.” She put a kettle on the stove.

I didn’t know if she expected an answer, but I asked instead, “When did you last speak with Hayden?”

“He stopped by a few months ago for my birthday. He brought a carrot cake that was almost inedible, but the gesture was sweet.”

“Were you two close when he was younger?” It felt like I should know her better before confiding in her.

The kettle began to shriek. She picked it up and poured hot water into a teapot, then placed it on the table. She brought two porcelain cups and poured tea into them.

Once we both had our tea, she sat down on the other side of the small table. “Hayden and I were never close when he was growing up.” She held her cup as if oblivious to the heat. “His father was—well, is—a righteous asshole who preferred to keep his family away from his particular sister. When Hayden grew older and began rebelling, I was already with the Feds, and he found that interesting. When he joined the police in Phoenix, I told him he was wasting his time in the kiddie league, but he wanted to start from the bottom. At least they were smart enough to promote him to a detective quickly.” She took a sip. “Drink. It’s not too hot.”

I lifted the cup and took a sip. It was too hot, but it was also the best tea I’d ever tasted, and I knew my way around tea. “It’s good.”

She took another sip, then went to open the cabinet, from which she plunked out a pack of cigarettes. She pulled out one and stood next to the kitchen window. “You smoke?”

“I’d rather not.”

She lit the cigarette and took a lungful, holding the smoke in her lungs for almost ten seconds before blowing it out the window. “What happened to my nephew?”

“He’s been kidnapped. The police released a statement today that it had something to do with a drug investigation, but that’s a lie.”

“And you know that how?”

“I know who kidnapped him.”

She took another long drag. Despite her stoic expression, I could spot the tension in her bony shoulders. “Who told you where I live?”

“Hayden’s boss.”

“Ray?”

In the back of my mind, I remembered that was his name. “Yes, the Chief.”

“Why would Ray send you to me instead of doing his job? He’s a capable policeman, and he likes Hayden.”

To explain that part, I needed to open up about the events that had led me here. I dreaded going through that tale again, but I could tell she wouldn’t help unless she could trust me. “Are you in a hurry?” I asked. “It will take some time.”

“I think I can push back my meetings at the country club. Go on.”

*

It was getting dark outside by the time I finished recounting the main events leading up to that moment. A nice, cool breeze blew in through the window, making the curtain dance. At the start of my story, Tammy had listened without interrupting, but her FBI instincts quickly kicked in. She didn't doubt my words, but she did ask for further clarification, which at least meant she wasn’t taking this lightly.

“Has anyone from The Society tried to contact you since Hayden was kidnapped?” she asked from across the table, an unlit cigarette between her fingers.

“No, and I don’t expect them to. This isn’t about sending me a message. Hayden went too far and came too close to the truth, so they decided to get him out of the way.”

“You said you wanted him to drop the investigation.”

“I did. I feared something like this might happen, but Hayden was…”

“Stubborn like a mule? Yeah, that’s my nephew.” She lit the cigarette and watched me closely. “So, they kidnapped Hayden and killed your former agent. No offense, but doesn’t it make sense for them to take you out as well? If they wanted to keep their existence a secret, I’d start with getting rid of you.”

Her question poked too close to what I wasn’t willing to share, not even with Hayden. “I don’t know why I’m alive, but maybe they don’t know of my involvement. Hayden’s visit to Amanda could have been what got him. He went there blindly, while I bribed my way inside with Eliot’s help.”

“Can you be sure Eliot doesn’t know where they are?”

“Yes.”

“What about the man you bribed? Can we get anything out of him?”

“From Frank? He calls them the Shadow People. He doesn’t seem to know anything about who they are, but we don’t need him.”

“Because you have the location of the motel?”

“Yes. That’s our best chance at finding them.”

She leaned forward, holding my gaze. “That brings us to the most important question—is Hayden even alive?”

I swallowed my anger, knowing that question had to be asked. ”He’s alive. I’m sure.”

I couldn’t read her expression as she blew smoke from the corner of her mouth. “One thing still bugs me, though. That video of Nick that appeared on the Darknet—it goes against everything you’ve told me about them.”

“There was no such thing as the internet when I was there, so maybe they were reckless. It could be that one of their members has posted it.”

“Hmm.” She stubbed out the cigarette and crossed her arms. “I don’t have a way to dig into that. The internet was just picking up speed before I left the FBI. Let’s leave it as a question mark in this investigation.”

“This is not an investigation. Investigations are slow—this is a rescue mission. I’ve done the investigating part, and it has led me to that motel.”

She cocked her head. “About that. You didn’t explain how you got Eliot to help you find the motel. You just mentioned it had something to do with his brother, The Director.”

I shifted in my seat. “It doesn’t matter.”

“If you want my help—”

“You’ll help me regardless because this is your nephew—unless you’re a cold, heartless bitch.”

Her nostrils flared, and I prepared myself for a fight, but she ended up asking, “Are you hungry?”

“I… what? Yes, I think so.”

“Still vegetarian?”

“Hayden told you that?”

“Might’ve mentioned it.”

“I still am.”

“My condolences. A salad and an omelet, then.”

“You don’t have to cook.”

She rose to her feet. “It’s not a five-course meal.”

I watched as she opened her old fridge and took out some vegetables. She placed them on the counter and started cutting. With her back to me, she asked, “Did Hayden talk about his family?”

“A bit. I know he has issues with his father.”

She snorted. “I guess you can put it like that. Mark’s the last man on earth who’d be okay with having a gay son. He was always as straight as an arrow, while I was the opposite. My parents used to hate that about me. They thought I was a dyke for a while, as if that could explain my behavior. When Mark had Hayden, I kept my distance. It was clear he’d raise the boy to be his spitting image, and I wasn’t going to waste my time watching it happen. By the time Hayden finished high school, I was already with the FBI. He came to visit me in LA, which gave us a chance to talk. It turned out my nephew wasn’t a reflection of his dreadful father.”

“Did he want to be a cop back then?”

Tammy started the stove and took out eggs from the fridge. “He wanted to help others, but his grades weren’t good enough for medical school. Maybe if he hadn’t been pushed into football by Mark, he would’ve had more opportunities to use his brain.”

She placed a bowl of salad on the table. I was glad to see she used avocado.

“Tell me more about your plan for that motel.”

I opened my mouth and quickly shut it. I didn’t have much of a plan, and a former FBI agent would easily realize that. I cleared my throat. “The place is called Delight’s Hot Springs Resort, out in Tecopa. I want to rent a room there for a few days to gather information. Once I find out when they’re picking up the employees, I’ll follow them as far as I can, hopefully to The Society’s current estate.”

She remained quiet for a few moments, then placed two plates with an omelet on the table and sat back down. “Their estate is likely somewhere in the desert,” she said. “It won't be hard to catch you tracking them. But assuming you end up finding the place, then what?”

“I’ll call the Chief, or whichever local police they have there. They’ll search inside and find Hayden and whoever else they have locked in there.”

“You’ll need a warrant for anyone to search inside, which might give them enough time to get rid of anyone they’ve been keeping there. Not much of a plan.”

I gripped my fork tighter. “I thought that getting help from a former FBI agent would help me with the planning part.”

She shrugged. “Never said I was good at my job. Eat.”

I sighed and began eating. The food might have been basic, but she added an extra kick to everything. I was a slow eater, but she was even slower. We ate in silence, and when I finished, I asked, “Why aren’t you with the FBI anymore?” I knew it was a loaded question, but if I was going to put my life in her hands, I needed to know what had caused her to end up in the middle of nowhere.

“I destroyed the life of my captain,” she said after a long pause. “He ended up blowing his head off.”

“What do you mean by destroying his life? I’m sure you didn’t do that on purpose.”

“That depends on who you’re asking.”

“I’m asking you.”

“Did I want him to commit suicide? Of course not. But he was a coward, and cowards aren’t known for making brave decisions.”

“What happened that made you go after him?”

She put her fork down, her omelet half-eaten. “He cut corners in places he shouldn’t have, and that made me suspicious. I kept an eye on him for a while, until I discovered he was sabotaging certain investigations, all connected to a specific crime organization we’d been trying to bring down for years.”

“Did he work for them?”

“That was never proven, but money had changed hands between them. When I had enough evidence to take him down, I went straight to the top and laid it all on the table. I didn’t expect a medal, but I also didn’t expect to be treated like an inconvenience. It was the late ‘80s, and the FBI was very much a boys’ club. When I realized a few weeks later that they were trying to bury the case and transfer him to a different department, I raised hell. They ended up charging him, but he killed himself before he could stand trial.”

“Did they fire you?”

“No, but there are ways to make someone leave without dealing with bureaucracy. I was a persona non grata, and my career was going nowhere. Since I wasn’t going to make their lives easy, I negotiated an early retirement settlement.”

By the way she said it, I gathered that hadn’t been enough to sweeten the pill.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

She shrugged. “Old water under a rusty bridge.”

“I want to drive to the motel tomorrow. I don’t know how long I’ll need to stay there, but I could use a backup. Will you join me?”

She rolled her eyes. “No, I’ll stay here drinking tea while my nephew’s life is in danger. Fuck off, Jonah.” She added a wink at the end of her outburst, taking the edge off her words.

I exhaled, my body lighter. I already felt less alone in this.

“That thing in your leg—are we sure it isn’t tracking you now?”

I shook my head. “I can’t be sure, but we’re not that far from LA.”

“And when we’re at the motel?”

“I don’t know. I guess it’s a risk we’ll need to take. I don’t have time to go through surgery.”

“Hmm.” She nodded to herself like she’d made a decision, but all she said was, “It’s getting late.”

I glanced out the window, noticing it had gotten dark while we spoke. “I better head back home.”

“We should leave early tomorrow, so best for you to spend the night here. I have a spare room. We’ll make a stop to see a friend of mine on the way to the motel tomorrow. He used to work with my unit back in the day.”

“Okay. I have a bag with clothes in my car.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“I was thinking of driving straight to the motel if you’d refused to help.”

Tammy nodded and stood up. “I’ll go make up your room. You’ve been sleeping poorly lately.”

She didn’t say it as a question, meaning I must have looked as beat as I felt. I went to bring my bag from the car, then waited in the kitchen until she returned. “Room’s ready. The birds wake up early around here, so it’s a good time to call it a night.”

She also seemed tired, reminding me I hadn’t been the only one who unpacked today.

Lying in her small guest room with the cold breeze blowing through the window, I was out within minutes, one step closer to finding Hayden.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Tammy hadn’t been exaggerating about the damn birds. They woke me up at five in the morning while it was still dark outside, but it meant I’d slept for over eight hours—a downright miracle. I stretched my stiff muscles, noticing the sound of movement from outside the room. I pushed myself out of bed and walked into the kitchen, rubbing my eyes.

“Morning,” Tammy said, already dressed for the day and sitting at the table. By the smell in the kitchen, she had been awake long enough to have at least one cigarette. “There’s coffee.”

“Thanks.” I poured myself a cup and went to sit at the table.

“You slept okay?”

I nodded and took a sip. “It might have been a coma. You?”

“I don’t need much sleep. Do you have a gun?”

That woke me up faster than the caffeine. “Yes, it’s in my bag.”

She nodded, pulling her gray hair into a tight ponytail. “We won’t have much chance in case of a firefight, but we should still be armed.”

I sipped my bitter coffee. “I’d rather avoid a firefight. Did you tell your friend that we were coming?”

“Yes. Ben’s expecting us soon. Take a shower and make yourself a sandwich for the road. We’ll take my car.”

I didn’t like leaving my car behind. It wasn’t much to look at—or to drive—but I drew comfort from having it with me. “I prefer to drive in my car.”

“I don’t do well with other people behind the wheel. If we’re taking yours, I’ll be driving.”

I nodded. “Fair enough.”

“I did a search on Delight’s Hot Springs Resort. It will be a four-hour drive from Ben to there. They don’t have many reviews online.”

“If The Society is paying them, they might require them to keep a low profile.”

“Could be. Seems that the motel is divided into small cabins, spreading over a large area. I’m not sure if it’s good or bad.”

“I’d say it’s good.”

“Why’s that?”

I shrugged. “Because I can’t do anything about it.”

That almost earned me a smile. “Finish your coffee and go get ready. It’s going to be a long day.”

*

I’d never seen anyone follow the speed limit so religiously as Tammy. Even when the early-morning roads were wide open for her to accelerate, she stuck to the traffic signs as if God had placed them there.

“Ben lives close to Bakersfield,” Tammy said as we drove north through the vast expanse of the San Fernando Valley. The hills surrounding us seemed dry yet striking against the deep blue sky. “He has a small farm for raising horses. Always felt to me like he preferred them over people.”

I noticed fondness in her voice and stopped myself from asking if there had ever been something between them.

“Why do you think he could help?” I asked, still getting used to someone else driving my car. It felt as though my body had been misplaced.

“Besides horses, Ben’s into electronics.” She glanced at me through her large sunglasses. “I want him to take a look at your leg.”

I tried to keep my annoyance at bay. “Why? I told you that Hayden already had someone examine it.”

“I don’t know that person, but I know he ain’t Ben.”

I let it go, knowing it was bound to be a waste of time. As long as we reached the motel today, I was willing to humor Tammy and her horse-loving friend.

When we passed a sign indicating Bakersfield was a few miles ahead, Tammy turned right. We drove on a dirt road I wasn’t sure was meant for cars, but Tammy drove with confidence. A few minutes later, I spotted a ranch house ahead. It looked like a painting—a hidden gem in the open plains. The closer we drove, the more horses I noticed roaming freely.

“Should they be walking around like that?” I asked.

“Ben thinks a horse dumb enough to leave should do so.”

We parked in front of the two-story ranch house, where an older man was sitting on the porch in a rocking chair. He stood up, wearing a red flannel shirt, faded jeans, and a cowboy hat.

“Anything that I should know before talking to him?” I asked, unbuckling my seatbelt. “Something I shouldn’t say?”

“Don’t comment on his tail.”

“His what?”

She shook her head. “A joke.”

We climbed out into the smell of fresh hay and earthy manure. Two nearby horses turned their heads to watch us.

“How long has it been, you old bat?” Ben walked down the stairs.

“It’s been a minute, you hillbilly fart.”

They hugged warmly, then Ben sized me up. “And this handsome young man must be Jonah.”

I stepped forward and offered my hand. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

“Ben will do just fine.” He shook my hand, his palm as rugged as I expected. His bright, green eyes appeared younger than the rest of his face.

“Come inside. I made iced tea.”

Despite the warm morning, the house felt cool. It was hard to miss the rich collection of firearms decorating one of the walls.

“Just for show,” Ben said in response to my stare.

We sat in the wide living room—Tammy and I on a crimson leather couch, and Ben in an old armchair in front of us. I held my iced tea, expecting Tammy and Ben to dive into reminiscing, but Tammy wasted no time. “I’ve told you the gist of what we’re facing. Do you have any more questions?”

Ben held my gaze. “I met Hayden once. He seemed like a fine man. Once we find him, you two are welcome here to ride the horses.”

Once we find him. He couldn’t have known how much I appreciated hearing that. “Thank you. Will you be coming with us to the motel?”

“No,” Tammy said firmly, as if they had already argued over that. “We can’t draw more attention to ourselves. Ben will be our backup if we need him to be.” She glanced at me. “We’ll focus on gathering intel for the time being, not on engaging with The Society.”

I waited for her words to sink in. “Not engage? How are we supposed to free Hayden, then?”

“Once we find out more about their location, we’ll rendezvous here and decide on our next steps. I may have lost my contact with the FBI, but Ben hasn’t.”

Ben winked. “The curse of being so damn likable.” He saw my somber expression and cleared his throat. “I know the clock is ticking, but I think we can all agree that Hayden is either dead or still has some time. We need to do this right.”

“Fine, but I don’t understand why you need to look at my tracker.”

“Maybe I don’t, but that’s not the real reason why Tammy brought you here.”

My muscles tensed. I turned to Tammy. “You lied to me?”

“Relax, Jonah. Listen to the man.”

But the man didn’t say a thing, just picked up a thick folder from the floor and handed it to me.

“What is it?”

“Have a look. It will speak for itself.”

I hesitantly opened the folder. The first photo made it clear what I was looking at. “That’s Theodore. He used to be The Director. He adopted Eliot and Thomas.”

“Who?”

“Eliot was the one who set me up. He betrayed me. Thomas was The Director while I was there.”

“I didn't know they passed the role from father to son.”

I stopped myself from saying that Thomas had never wanted that role. I had a flashback of pressing down the pillow until his feeble body stopped twitching, but I pushed the memory aside.

“There was at least one more Director before Theodore, going back to the early 1900s,” Ben said.

“Were they kidnapping people even back then?” Tammy asked.

“Based on what we learned, yes. Their agenda is the rule of the elite over the common man, giving them the right to take and abuse whoever they deem beneath them.”

I couldn’t bring myself to look further into the folder, knowing it would consume me. “Was the FBI investigating them?”

Ben gave a stiff nod. “We investigated them for over a decade. The deeper we dug, the more names kept piling up—people you’d never imagine getting involved with something like that.”

He’d be surprised by what I could imagine. “Did you arrest anyone?”

Ben shook his head. “The bigger it got, the more pushback my team received. By the time I realized the higher-ups were trying to bury the investigation, I’d lost the momentum to fight back.” He took a breath. “I probably could’ve tried to rattle the nest, but that was around the time Tammy was trying to take down her crooked boss, and I saw firsthand what fighting against the system could do to one’s career.” He gave Tammy an apologetic look, which she returned with a grim smile.

“They ended up offering me a different department to lead, claiming it was a budget thing. I swallowed their bullshit until I retired the first chance I got. Horses can sometimes smell, but at least they’re trustworthy.”

I rubbed my face, resenting everything Ben had said. If those who were supposed to stop The Society had done their fucking job, I and others would not have wound up in hell.

“You’re the first person I’ve heard who got away from them,” Ben said, a trace of suspicion in his voice. “I’m sure there’s an interesting story behind that.”

“It doesn’t matter. Do you know of Mr. White?”

“Never heard of him.”

“He was a member of the High Council.”

Ben leaned forward. “You were in contact with the High Council?”

“Just with him. He came to the estate from time to time.” I couldn’t help but feel a tingle of needle-hunger whenever I thought of him, even after all these years. I asked Tammy, “So you knew who I was talking about this whole time?”

“Not at first, but the more you spoke, the more it sounded familiar. I was never involved in Ben’s investigation.”

I ran my fingers over the thick folder. “Can I look at it later?”

“You can take it with you to the motel, but it hasn't been updated in years. No one knew I took it, which goes to show how much they didn’t give a damn.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

“I’d still like to have a look at your leg before you hit the road.”

I followed him into a room with a lot of computers. He gestured for me to sit on a chair in the middle of the room. Tammy stood close by as he pressed on my calf, then scanned it with a similar device to the one Samuel had used in the last yearly visit. A monitor showed my bones and the small tracker that seemed out of place. Ben told me to hold the scanner to my calf while he worked on his computer, switching between screens with numbers and graphs. He turned to me after a few minutes. “Like you said, it’s pretty much dormant. It does seem very advanced, but it still has some limitations.” Ben took the scanner from me and put it on his desk. “Mind giving me and Tammy a few moments to talk? You can wait out back. The view is something.”

I stood up and crossed my arms. “I’d rather stay and listen while I’m the topic of conversation.”

Tammy cleared her throat. “Jonah, it’s best to hold back information in case one of us is captured and is made to talk.”

By “someone,” she meant me. Still irritated, I left the room and walked out back. Ben had been right about the view: vast fields stretched all around me, with distant ranch houses dotting the landscape. I frowned at the old, dusty helicopter Ben had parked like an old car. I walked around it, wondering if it could still fly.

Tammy and Ben joined me a few minutes later.

“She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” Ben smiled broadly at the helicopter, which was once red before turning dusty brown.

“Can it still fly?” I asked.

Ben pursed his lips. “On paper, yes. Mary Sue loves the open sky, but I haven’t dared try her out for a while.”

Tammy shook her head. “Did you really call that rusty old thing Mary Sue?”

“I sure did, woman, and you should show some respect.”

“Don’t hold your breath. Jonah, we better get going.”

“Hold on now,” Ben said, “it’s still early. Have you ever ridden a horse, Jonah?”

“Once, when I was six.”

“It’s like riding a bike.”

“I fell from the horse.”

Ben twisted his lips. “We’ll take it slow, then.”

“Is this really the time?” Tammy asked him.

“It’s always the time for horseback riding. Jonah, come on.”

I knew it wasn’t about riding but about him wanting to talk to me. I followed him to the front of the house, where he showed me how to saddle one of the horses—an impressive brown beast he promised was as calm as a kitten, despite being named Storm. We slowly rode through fields that had been recently plowed. Once we reached an old wooden fence, we slowed to a halt. Ben climbed down and helped me as well. We went to lean on the fence, watching the faraway mountains.

“Those are the Sierra Nevada,” Ben said. “They get snowy in wintertime.”

“You wanted to show me the mountains?”

“Hardly.” He glanced at me, his face somber. “I wanted you to know that I’ve been in your shoes before.”

“Meaning?”

He slid his hand into his pocket, pulling out an old photo and handing it to me. A young, handsome man with a lot of freckles smiled at the camera, his arm around a much younger Ben. “That’s Elijah. We served at the Bureau together as field agents. I was good, but Elijah was phenomenal.”

Suspecting this story didn’t have a happy ending, I asked, “What happened to him?”

“An arrest gone wrong. Our intel claimed there were six gang members at the scene, but there were close to twenty. Elijah and three other agents were shot. He lay in a coma for a few weeks, and I had to pretend to be a colleague every time I visited him rather than what I truly was.”

“His lover?”

Ben nodded. “Three years and four months. Best years of my life. We thought that he would wake up and get better, but his system began to crash, and after one hellish day, it was over.”

I couldn’t look away from the sorrow and loss in Ben’s eyes. “How many knew you were together?”

“A few, but remember we’re talking about 1974. The few who knew had no idea what to say to me, and it wouldn’t have mattered either way.” He took the photo from my hand and smiled at it before sliding it into his pocket. “Now I’m an old man, and Elijah is forever young and full of freckles.” He cleared his throat and held my gaze. “You go after your man, and you bring him back safely. But don’t dare let anger guide your actions. Think. Every single step, you stop and you think. You understand me, Junior?”

I nodded, eyes itching. “I’ll act smart.”

He stroked my cheek, his rugged skin comforting. “Good boy. Ready to ride back a bit faster?”

“I won’t be able to help Hayden with a broken neck.”

But we did end up riding faster, fast enough for me to fear I would fall, yet I stayed steady on Storm, hanging onto the pommel and smiling broadly despite how bleak my world was.

When we returned to the house, I dismounted on my own and stroked Storm’s neck in gratitude. Tammy walked out, shaking her head at me. “You’re going to smell like a horse.”

“I’ve smelled worse.”

“Are you still driving like a snail?” Ben asked her.

“Yes,” I answered instead, which granted me a glare from Tammy.

“Let me fix you some food for the road.”

Twenty minutes later, we were back in my car, leaving the dirt road behind in favor of the smooth highway. I tried asking Tammy about her private conversation with Ben, but she just turned up the radio.

I sighed and leaned my head against the window, watching the world pass by while thinking of a young man named Elijah.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

“One room for two people? Sure thing, we have one available,” the receptionist said cheerfully, her curly, dyed blonde hair smelling of hairspray. Her name tag read “Cherry,” with a smiley face doodled beside it. She typed on her keyboard and asked, “How long would you be staying?”

“Three nights should be enough,” Tammy said. “My son and I might want to extend our stay, but we’ll be sure to check with you first.”

“Oh, that won’t be an issue—it’s rather dead here this time of year. How did you hear about us, by the way?”

“We decided to be spontaneous and stop somewhere in the area,” I said. Since they were keeping a low profile online, we weren’t likely to find them through a regular search. I gave Cherry a once-over, trying to detect anything out of the ordinary about her, but this middle-aged bundle of perkiness didn’t strike me as a collaborator of The Society, though it made sense for her boss not to share such information with his employees.

“Okay, super,” Cherry said. “I’m putting you in one of our best cabins. You’ll have a bit of a walk to the swimming pool, but it should be quieter—not that it gets noisy out here.” She handed Tammy two keys. “There you go. Have fun!”

We thanked her and stepped into the cool desert evening air.

“No one’s around,” Tammy said as we walked past dark brick cabins, coyotes howling in the distance.

“She said it was dead this time of year.”

“What’s so special about this time? It’s spring. This should be their busiest season.” She eyed me. “It’s a sign we’re in the right place, but it also makes us stand out.”

We reached our cabin, which was indeed farther from the rest but closer to the parking lot. Tammy unlocked the door and flicked on the light. The room was simple but clean, with two single beds and an old-looking television. Tammy put her bag on the floor and went to check on the sliding door leading to the patio out back. She tested the strength of the lock until she was satisfied.

“Which bed do you prefer?” I asked.

“I’ll take the one close to the window in case someone tries to break in.” She sat on the bed, stretching her neck and yawning. It wasn’t late, but we had been on the road for hours.

“I’m going to take a shower,” she said. “Hide your gun underneath the mattress, but make sure you can easily pull it out.”

“Okay. I’ll go over Ben’s file out back.”

“Don’t lose yourself in what’s there.”

“Meaning?”

“Nothing you’ll see there is personal—just facts. Treat them as such.”

Before I could reply, she walked to the bathroom.

I hid the gun underneath my mattress, put a jacket on, and stepped outside with the folder. The light on the patio was weak, but I angled the chair so I could read. It was fully dark by now, not even streetlights in the distance. It felt like being stranded in the middle of an endless sea. I watched the stars for a while, glittering brighter than they did closer to LA.

My phone showed bad reception, but I still sent Jenny a message to tell her I was okay and had taken a few days off to clear my head.

I opened the thick folder, struggling to accept how much information was available, waiting all these years for someone to do their goddamn job. I flipped through the photos, a few old enough to be in black and white. Behind each photo, someone—possibly Ben—had written things like, “A politician,” or “On the board of Wells Fargo.” Some of the written documents were hard to understand, using terminology that went over my head, but I got the impression that all their leads had run cold—dead end after dead end.

Toward the bottom of the folder, I came across two photos of young boys. Eliot was easy to recognize with his blue eyes and jet-black hair, but The Director took a bit more observation, maybe because his dying image still floated in my mind. Behind each photo, someone wrote, “Adopted, likely illegally. No trace.” I searched for more information about them but found nothing. I also wondered why I hadn’t seen any mention of Mr. White in the dozens of documents. The High Council was mentioned a few times, but Ben’s team had clearly known less than I did about them. It must have been frustrating working for years on a case that went nowhere, fighting against forces that operated from the shadows.

I closed the folder, my head aching. I needed a shower and a good sleep. The thought of being surrounded by The Society’s employees was terrifying, but it would be even worse to discover I was at the wrong place and not any closer to finding Hayden. I wondered if he believed I was coming for him, and whether that belief brought him comfort or dread.

Tammy stepped out, her gray hair still damp. “Found anything helpful?”

“No, but I don’t understand most of it.”

“I’ll have a look.” She lit a joint, spreading a strong scent of weed.

“Shouldn’t we be sharp?” I asked.

“I’ll be sharp tomorrow.” She handed me the joint, and I took it and inhaled. It was strong enough to put Jenny’s joints to shame, and it would likely knock me out until morning.

“What are the chances of anyone recognizing you?” Tammy asked as I handed her back the joint.

“I don’t know. It’s been a long time, and I doubt they expect to see me here.”

She nodded. “I’ll wake up early and have a walk around the area. Later, we should head over to the shopping center we drove by to eat and ask the locals about this motel.”

“Okay.”

I took one more puff and went to wash the day from my skin.

*

“This place is a ghost town,” Tammy said as she entered the room. I had just finished getting dressed after getting a decent night’s sleep.

“You didn’t see anyone?”

“One or two people, but they kept to themselves and drove their own cars. It might be that they were driving somewhere else to get picked up by The Society, but I’d rather wait a day or two before following anyone in your car.”

“Should I also go look around?”

“Don’t bother. Let’s just drive to the shopping center—I’m starving.”

I was too. This time, she agreed to let me drive, and I took it as a sign of trust. It took us about ten minutes to reach the shopping center, which was a miniature by LA standards.

We sat at Applebee’s with only three other customers. When a waitress came to take our order, Tammy put on a friendly smile and said we were looking for a place to stay and were considering Delight’s Hot Springs Resort.

“Oh, you can do better than that place,” the waitress said, hands on her hips. “Nobody goes to Delight’s anymore—lord knows how it’s still open. They used to be more popular back in the day, but it’s like they stopped trying!” She seemed thoughtful. “They do have their regulars, though. I frankly can’t imagine why anyone would stay at the same motel for such a long time, but to each their own, I suppose.” She recommended two other nearby motels, and we pretended to consider them.

After we finished eating, we walked around and asked more people for a good place to stay, specifically about Delight's Hot Springs Resort. Most didn’t know the place, but those who did either thought it had been closed or that it wasn’t worth our time.

It all boded well for us staying at the right place, but it didn’t bring us any closer to finding out where The Society was taking its employees.

Back at the motel, Tammy went to take a nap while I walked around the premises, wearing a hat in case I was seen. It was hot, but not humid. The swimming pool caught my eye. The water seemed clean, and the open sandy plains in the background made for a peaceful scenery. But I hadn’t brought sunscreen, and the sun was high in the cloudless sky, meaning I’d need to wait a few more hours.

Before heading back to the cabin, I decided to go to the reception desk and pretend to be searching for activities for “mom” and me. Cherry was behind her desk, listening to a local radio station and reading a magazine. She looked startled when she noticed me, as if the concept of people walking into the reception area was rare—which I was sure it was.

“Hey there,” I said cheerfully and walked closer, enjoying the cool AC.

Cherry put her magazine down, which may have been Playgirl from the glimpse I got. “Oh, hi! How are you and your mom doing?”

“Super. We’re debating what to do around here tomorrow. Any interesting places you can recommend?”

“Oh, you’ve come to the right place.” She grabbed a stand with pamphlets and placed it between us. “How much walking are you interested in? Some of the trails around here can be brutal.”

“Oh, none of that. Mom’s hip ain’t what it used to be.”

She gave me a sympathetic look. “Of course. Same with my old man. He owns this place, but he slipped in the shower last year, so now it’s mostly me running this show.”

I returned a sympathetic look as I processed her words. As the owner’s daughter, there was a strong chance she knew of any shady dealings. “Sorry about your dad. Must be hard running this whole place by yourself.”

She waved her hand, and I noticed a diamond bracelet around her wrist. “It’s really not so bad. Some days I don’t see anyone, but I have my magazines and books to keep me company, and the paycheck’s great.” Her face turned somber, likely realizing she’d said too much.

Our gaze lingered a few seconds too long until I looked down at the pamphlets. “So, let’s see about trips without too much walking…”

Ten minutes later, I returned with two pamphlets to the cabin. Tammy was still taking her nap, so I ended up taking one as well. When I woke up an hour later, Tammy was smoking out back. I stepped outside to see that the sky had turned from blue to deep orange.

“I spoke with Cherry the receptionist,” I said.

Tammy blew smoke. “Did you advise her to change her silly name?”

“No, but it turns out she’s the motel’s owner’s daughter. He got injured last year, so she’s taken over. She mentioned that some days she doesn’t see any guests, but she let it slip that the money’s great. She was also wearing a diamond bracelet.”

Tammy nodded. “Nice work. You think she might be suspecting us?”

“I don’t think so. We mostly talked about trips around the area. Oh, if you see her, try to limp a little—I told her you have a bad hip.”

She rolled her eyes and gave me the finger.

“Mind if I go for a quick swim before we head off to eat?” I asked.

“Go ahead, but keep a low profile. And if we’re going to stay here for a few days, we should get some groceries.”

“Okay, we can do that at the shopping center.”

I grabbed a towel from the bathroom and stepped outside. Like before, I walked between quiet and dark cabins, feeling like the only guest around. It was highly possible that The Society’s employees only stayed here every few weeks, which put me in a tight spot. I’d go broke if I didn’t work, and Tammy didn’t come across as wealthy.

As expected, the pool was empty of people, and the setting sun provided a perfect backdrop. I took off my clothes and stayed in my boxers, then jumped into the pool. After the hot day, the water was warm but still refreshing. I floated on my back, watching as stars gradually appeared in the dimming sky. With my ears beneath the water, I might as well have been floating in the middle of the ocean. I began to swim lazily back and forth, my stiff muscles grateful for the exercise. As dusk settled, lights flickered on around the pool, though the area remained mostly dim. I could picture Hayden and me swimming here, touching beneath the water, his fingers slipping into me because that was what he’d likely do in a public swimming pool. I missed his touch, the way he kept me on my toes, and how he never hesitated to show his desire and affection. My weaknesses were his strengths, and I loved that. It felt cruel to have him back in my life for such a short time, but I had no right feeling sorry for myself knowing what he must be facing.

A little while later, I heard footsteps approaching, likely Tammy coming to call me for dinner. I swam to the edge of the pool and craned my neck to relieve some of the tension from swimming.

The footsteps grew louder until a figure came into view on the path ahead. It wasn’t Tammy, and it didn’t seem like the man had noticed me. My muscles clenched in an instant. Even in the dim light, I recognized the dark and handsome face of Samuel, whom I’d last seen when he left me hurting after the yearly visit. He walked casually toward what was likely his cabin.

I didn’t realize I’d stopped breathing until my chest began to hurt. I wanted to duck under the edge of the pool, but I worried that any movement might catch his attention. I waited for him to pass so I could climb out and return to Tammy. Based on the direction he was walking, we could narrow down the location of his cabin and then focus our surveillance.

Despite standing perfectly still in the water, Samuel must have sensed my lingering stare. He slowed down and glanced my way. There was barely any light, and I was standing with just my head above the water. I turned around slowly, my stomach churning, feeling like a sitting duck. I held my breath, dreading Samuel’s approaching footsteps, but the seconds passed without a sound. I dared to turn back, only exhaling when I could no longer see him.

I climbed out of the pool, the chilly air making my wet skin prickle with goosebumps. I grabbed my towel and listened for any footsteps, relieved to hear nothing but faraway coyotes howling in the distance. Not stopping to dry off, I snatched my clothes and hurried back, my eyes darting at every shadow. When I reached the cabin, I locked the door behind me.

Tammy rose from her bed, fully dressed and ready to leave for dinner. It only took her one glance at my face to ask, “What’s wrong?”

“I saw someone from The Society.”

“Did he see you?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe. I was in the pool and there wasn’t much light. He kept walking, so I don’t think he saw me.”

She didn’t look convinced. A second later, she reached for the gun underneath her mattress. “Is he dangerous?”

“Yes.”

“Get dressed. We’ll take the car and park it farther away, then walk back to survey the cabin for any visitors.”

With my skin still damp, I hurried to put on my clothes and shoes, then grabbed my phone, wallet, and gun.

“Ready?” Tammy asked impatiently.

“Yes.” I followed her outside and locked the door behind me.

We walked quickly toward the parking lot, where only three cars were parked. My keys dangled in Tammy’s grip as she moved toward the driver’s door.

I almost tripped at the sudden blast of gunfire. I swirled around, gun in hand. Despite the near-total darkness, Cherry’s puffy curls were easy to spot. She held her shotgun aimed at the sky, meaning she wasn’t trying to kill us—yet.

“I knew there was something off about you two!” Gone was the perkiness in her tone. “How ‘bout you come closer so I can see you?”

Through the thumping of my heart, I heard footsteps coming from the side.

“Tammy—”

“I hear it. Get ready to reach the car.”

“Hi, wasn’t I clear? Get your asses over here and—”

Cherry’s head exploded in a splash of blood, her body crashing to the ground.

“Now!” Tammy shouted, the gun in her hand smoking.

I turned around to close the last few feet to the car, but before I could reach it, the passenger's window shattered. I tried to stop mid-run, ending up tripping and crashing to the ground. The gun flew from my hand.

Close by, Tammy fired two shots toward the shooter’s direction, but he was invisible among the shadows of the trees.

“Get in!” she called and leaped into the car. With my ears ringing, I rose to my feet, giving up on the gun that I could no longer see. I opened the passenger door, but pain exploded in my thigh before I could jump in. I screamed and tumbled backward.

“Jonah!”

Another shot flew above my head, hitting the car. “Get out of here!” I shouted at Tammy through the burning pain. I couldn’t bring myself to climb into the car, and a silhouette of a man was coming closer, his gun raised toward us.

“Fuck,” Tammy hissed and started the car. “I’ll find you!”

Unlikely, I thought, as another bullet hit the car, this time smashing another window and sending rain of glass on my head. My thigh burned like lava, my body drenched in sweat. I could swear I felt the bullet in my flesh, buried inside a broken bone.

Tammy slammed the paddle, sending gravel everywhere as she sped away. More shots followed, and right when I thought Tammy was going to escape, her scream pierced the air. I couldn’t see where she’d been hit, but the car swayed violently before disappearing into the night.

“Are you armed?” Samuel asked, his footsteps getting closer.

“No!”

His features became visible, his face tense and alert. When he saw me lying on the ground, he lowered his gun. “How bad is it?”

“It’s in my thigh,” I wheezed. “I’m bleeding. Please call an ambulance.”

“Let me see.” He crouched down, smelling of gunpowder. “It’s not pretty, but you’ll live. How many others have you brought with you?”

“No one.”

He put his hand on my thigh and squeezed. Fire of hell consumed me, and I screamed into the night. “How many, Jonah?” he calmly asked.

“There’s no one else!” Sobs escaped me, my self-control reduced to nothing.

“Calm down. You won’t die. Possibly.”

“Is Hayden okay?”

He snorted and rose to his feet. “I think you have bigger problems than him.”

“Just tell me!”

He took out his phone, casting a bright light on his dark face. “He’s alive. Now shut up.” He made a call as I squirmed on the ground, my consciousness slipping.

He’s alive.

“Hey, it’s me,” Samuel said from far away. “I need someone to pick me up. Yes, now. We have a fucking problem.”

*

When I awoke some time later, my mouth tasted like ash, and my head was spinning like a washing machine. I was lying on a hard mattress, a thin blanket covering me. When I tried to move my right leg, a sharp pain sliced through me. I gritted my teeth, carefully reaching to touch the bandage around my thigh. It felt tight and secure. I was wearing only underwear and a gray shirt, the same kind of shirt I’d worn years ago. Anxiety and relief collided inside me. I achieved my goal of reaching Hayden—assuming he was truly here—but the plan had not been to end up a prisoner as well.

Tammy. I had no idea how severely she’d been hit or if my damaged car could have taken her to safety.

I glanced around, taking in the small, windowless room with the bare beige walls. A toilet and a shower cubicle were on the other side of the room. A nightstand next to my bed held a bottle of water. I reached for the bottle, but my unsteady hand caused it to fall to the floor and roll away.

“Dammit.”

I lifted the blanket and tried to sit up, grimacing at the awakening pain in my thigh. With my back against the headboard, I called, “Hey!” I needed information and for someone to help me pick up the bottle. “Hey!”

No one answered, and my head pounded from raising my voice. I carefully maneuvered my legs off the edge of the bed, then placed my left foot on the floor. With that accomplished, I gingerly placed my right foot down as well, trying not to put pressure on it. Pain shot up immediately, but not enough to stop me. I rested my hand against the wall and moved to stand, then hopped on my left foot closer to the bottle, which had rolled to the other side of the room. I managed three hops before my head began to spin, the walls shifting around me.

Shit.

Trying to keep myself stable, I couldn’t avoid putting pressure on my right foot. A lightning bolt shot up my spine, and I collapsed to the floor with a cry. The door opened seconds later, but I was in too much pain to look up.

“Give him a shot,” Samuel said.

“No!”

“It’s for the pain, Jonah. And where the hell were you trying to go?”

“Water,” I wheezed as another man I didn’t recognize crouched next to me. He injected me with a syringe above my bandaged wound. Moments later, the pain began to subside, and what felt like a thick cloud spread behind my eyes.

“Don’t fight me,” Samuel said as he leaned to pick me up. He placed me on the bed and went to retrieve the water.

“Call me if he needs more shots,” the other man said. “He shouldn’t stand for a few days.”

“Didn’t you say you’d bring a wheelchair?”

“Did I? Oh, yeah. Knew I forgot something.”

The shitty doctor left, and Samuel handed me the water. I drank most of the bottle before catching my breath.

“Do you need to use the toilet?” Samuel asked.

“No.”

“We got the bullet out, but you shouldn’t put any weight on that leg.”

“Fine. Do you know what happened to the woman I was with?”

Samuel shrugged. “She could be dead. I didn’t stick around to look for her, but I know for sure she didn’t follow us. Who was she?”

“Someone. Where’s Hayden?”

“Somewhere.”

I bit back my anger. “Who can I speak with about him?”

“You’re pushing it.”

“Then hit me, but tell me who I can speak with.”

He sighed. “He doesn’t want to speak with you yet; he’s waiting for you to get stronger.”

“The Director?”

“Yes. Now rest.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe you were stupid enough to come looking for us.”

“You took what’s mine.”

He snorted. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate your help.”

“I want to see him. Please.”

“He’s… occupied.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Get some rest, Jonah.”

He turned to leave, but before he could reach the door, I asked, “What’s The Director’s name?”

He glanced at me, his expression somber. “It’s Bo. I think you two know each other.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

1992

“The camera you’ve picked should arrive tomorrow. Make sure to test it before the shoot.”

“Yes, sir.” I took a sip of wine, a pleasant tipsiness nesting behind my eyes. These days, it took a lot more alcohol to affect me, but The Director had luckily grown tolerant of my need to unwind. He still made his disapproval known, but it was more for show.

I took a bite of tofu, fried just right with soy sauce. Even after six months of captivity, I didn’t know who prepared the food. My world had become a bubble of familiar activities and responsibilities, all revolving around The Director’s needs. Whenever I found myself resenting my existence and dwelling in self-pity, I only needed to watch the other captives and their daily hell. Bo liked to say I walked around with invisible armor, but that didn’t stop him from finding ways to pierce it.

The Director took a bite of his steak and glanced at my plate. “You need protein.”

“Tofu’s protein.” I cut a juicy piece with my fork and offered it to him. “Try.”

He eyed the tofu as if I were holding a dirty sock, but he still ate it from my fork. We were sitting at the dining room table, ridiculously large for two people. Classical music played in the background.

“I suppose it’s fine,” The Director said once he finished chewing. “If you don’t care much for flavor.”

“I won’t tell if you want more.”

“Don’t push it.”

I snickered into my wine. “Do you have time for chess later?” I still wasn’t a fan of the game, but it usually went on for a long time, keeping me away from Bo.

“I can find the time, and remind me to give you the new poetry books that Eliot has sent for you.”

“Hmm, thanks.” I hated how he remained a presence in my life and how I had to bite my tongue about him.

“What a heartwarming sight.”

I froze mid-bite. The Director tensed, his lips twitching.

Mr. White walked into the dining room, wearing an immaculate dark suit. “I hope I’m not interrupting. This looks romantic.”

“Jonah and I were just talking about work,” The Director said and shook Mr. White’s hand.

I swallowed the food in my mouth, glancing at the burning candle and the two glasses of wine. It did look romantic.

Mr. White took the seat next to me. “Jonah, you look as lovely as ever.”

I forced myself to meet his eyes. Many things scared me, with Mr. White being high on the list. I’d only met him a handful of times, and he invited me to the room with the sky each time. He always made me take the drug that pulled the truth from the depths of my soul, and it always ended the same way—with needles. He would either use them on me or watch me use them on myself.

“What brings you over?” The Director asked, his posture stiffer than usual.

“I was just in the neighborhood.” He chuckled. “You know how much I enjoy my visits. I own three houses, but it’s here that I feel the most… myself.” He plucked a piece of tofu from my plate and held it in front of my mouth.

I drew a breath and leaned down to grab the tofu with my teeth.

“Any update on our troublemaker?” Mr. White asked, picking up another piece. “Is he still playing hard to get?”

I leaned forward again to eat what he held between his fingers, my face growing warm.

“Nathan isn’t showing progress,” The Director said flatly.

Ever since Nathan had attacked me when I tried to speak with him, I pretended he didn’t exist. Despite my work at the dungeon, I had an unwritten understanding with The Director about being excused from Nathan’s failed shoots.

“It might be time to move him somewhere else,” The Director said. “I’ve done what I could.”

“Oh, I’m sure that’s not true. You know we can’t just ship people away like we used to with this being our only estate. No, this needs to be handled here, unless we decide that death is the only other option. Am I right, Jonah?”

Death? I didn’t want my opinion to carry any weight in making such a decision.

When the silence grew awkward, I met Mr. White’s gaze. He rarely blinked, making me more aware of my own blinking. The candlelight illuminated the left side of his dark face. “I’m sorry, what was the question?”

“The question was whether you think that Nathan should be given more chances to improve, or whether killing him is the logical course of action.”

I crossed my arms, feeling queasy. “I don’t think anyone should be killed.”

“Even after how he treated you? I was told he cracked two of your ribs.”

“Three, and it’s not about me. But I do agree that we should find a different solution. We’ve tried to make him see sense, but he doesn’t listen.”

Mr. White arched an eyebrow. “We?”

I clamped my lips shut and held my arms tighter around me.

“You’ve done well with our Jonah,” Mr. White said. “However, I have been hearing from several of our members that they miss his videos. Some even thought he was no longer with us.”

I nervously glanced at The Director, who said, “I wasn’t aware of such concerns.” He gave a tight smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll be sure to amend that.”

Mr. White stroked my cheek. “I, too, hate the thought of seeing precious Jonah hurt, but we all have our roles to play, don’t we?”

I nodded numbly. “Yes, sir.”

“Would you mind calling Nathan over?” Mr. White asked The Director. “I’d like to have a word with our stubborn friend.”

The Director cleared his throat, and one of the guards approached. “Please bring Nathan over, Anton.”

“Yes, sir.”

“How is your dear brother?” Mr. White asked, still gently stroking my cheek. I knew his acts weren’t sexual; he had plenty of opportunities to sleep with me. This was about making me uncomfortable so he could feed on my reactions.

“Eliot is busy with his club.”

“You see him more often than before, I’m hearing.”

Someone had been keeping him updated, and my gut told me it was Bo.

“He might be visiting a bit more often,” The Director said, a touch of irritation in his voice. “He’s always welcome.”

“Of course. Eliot is dear to all of us. You both are. Have you read any interesting books lately, Jonah?”

“I’ve been reading a bit of Benjamin Jonson. He was—”

“I know who he was. Your taste in literature is impressive. Have you read—?”

He stopped talking at the sound of approaching footsteps. Anton half-led, half-dragged naked Nathan into the dining room. Unsurprisingly, he was covered in bruises, his right eye almost swollen shut. He’d lost even more weight since I last saw him. Despite how he’d almost killed me, a pang of remorse still hit me at the dreadful state of him.

Anton led Nathan to the side of the table, close enough for me to smell his stench. He met my gaze, his smile crooked with half his front teeth broken. There was a spark of madness in his eyes that made me wish for a protective glass between us. Don’t they see how crazy he’s become?

“Hi, little traitor. Enjoying your fancy dinner?”

I looked away, biting the inside of my cheek.

“Nathan, lovely to see you again,” Mr. White said calmly.

“You’re the asshole who talks like you’re a lord or something. You’re here to tell me how I should improve my ways and be more like him?”

Mr. White glanced at me. “I doubt you could ever reach Jonah’s level. He’s adaptive and intelligent, while you are not. But your jealousy of him is understandable.”

“Jealousy? I’m not fucking j—”

Anton smacked the back of his head to shut him up.

Mr. White cleared his throat. “We were just having an interesting discussion about what to do with you.”

“How lovely.” Nathan glared at me. “And what were your conclusions?”

“That we ought to find a different way of dealing with you, or simply cut our losses and end your life.”

Nathan’s eyes grew wide. For months, he had been claiming he’d rather die than submit, but I knew it was crap—he could have killed himself by now.

“All of you are sick,” Nathan hissed. “I don’t even know who you are. Just let me go, and—”

“Enough!” The Director slammed his fist on the table. “We’ve been over this dozens of times, and this is your last chance. Get your shit together, or you’re done. I can’t be any clearer than that.”

Nathan’s chest heaved, his nostrils flaring. A bad feeling grew in the pit of my stomach as the madness in his eyes took over. He growled and smashed his elbow into Anton’s chin, causing him to stumble back with a cry of pain. I caught Nathan’s eyes zeroing in on the steak knife right before he snatched it. As he raised it toward The Director’s face, I jumped to my feet and grabbed his hand, using all my strength to pin it to the table.

My face exploded in pain when he hit me in the mouth. I shook my head and tightened my grip, positive he was about to stab me. The Director sent his fist into Nathan’s head, causing him to let go of the knife. A second later, Anton grabbed him from behind and slammed him onto the floor.

I slumped into my chair, my torn lips trickling blood down my chin and onto my lap.

“Are you okay?” The Director asked, his hand on my shoulder.

“I’m…” Trying to speak made me swallow blood. I spat on the floor, trying not to vomit.

“Oh my,” Mr. White said, “what an interesting turn of events. Go clean yourself, my dear boy. You’ve been very brave.”

“Traitor!” Nathan shouted from the floor. “You’re worse than all of them!”

I forced my limbs to move and stumbled my way out of there.

*

“Heard you were a hero,” Bo said and shut the door behind him.

“You’ve heard wrong.” I was lying in bed, hugging my pillow. It had been a couple of hours since the fiasco with Nathan, but I couldn’t fall asleep, and not just because of the lingering pain in my mouth.

Bo sat on the bed. “Let me see.” He held my chin and tilted my head. “You’re still pretty if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m worried about.”

He let go and glanced at the needles on the nightstand. They hadn’t been much help, even though I’d dug them deeper than usual. “I knew you had a crush on The Director, but saving his life? That’s a serious relationship right there.”

I exhaled, not willing to bite.

“They’re talking about you now, some interesting things.”

I looked at him. “What were they saying?”

He shrugged. “I didn’t get most of it, but Mr. White seemed to be thinking of something, and it got The Director agitated.”

I didn’t like the sound of that.

“Anyway, what are you so upset about? You hate Nathan.”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

He leaned next to my ear, making me tense. “I understand just fine, Prey. You’ve officially switched sides, no better than any of us.”

My eyes stung at the weight of his truth. “Leave me alone.”

“Say it.” He licked my cheek, raising goosebumps down my back. “Say that you’re no better than me, that you’re just as rotten. Hell, I think you might be worse than I ever was.”

My rage began to pulse, turning my vision red. “You’re a loser and a rapist. No matter what I do, I can never be worse than you. Now, fuck off.”

He forced me onto my back. I tried to shove him away, but he grabbed my hands above my head and shifted on top of me.

“You think you can tell me what to do?”

“Get off!”

He squeezed my wrists, the pain piercing through my bones. “Oh, I’m about to get off, alright.” He rocked his hips against mine. “You still think you’re special, Prey? A good person in a bad place? Can’t you see that’s crap?”

“Get off!”

He rocked his hips faster, his weight making it hard to breathe. His messy beard filled my vision, the bottom of it rubbing against my chin.

“You and I are gonna have some fun.” He twisted my wrists, the pain so fierce I feared they might snap. “Are you gonna play hard to get?”

Through the pain, I hissed, “No!”

He chuckled and eased his grip, moving his hands to rest on my chest as he sat on my stomach. “I heard you’ve bled a lot.” His eyes focused on my lips. “Sorry I’ve missed that.” He winked. “Let’s see if I can fuck you hard enough to bleed.”

My rage pulsed stronger, overpowering my fear and clouding my thoughts. A predatory urge rushed through my body, slipping into my veins and reaching my heart. “You love blood so much?” I reached for a needle on the nightstand. Bo caught my movement and began to lean back, but I was quicker.

His eyes grew wide, making it easier to slide the needle into his left eye. I gripped his beard with my other hand to keep him in place, jerking the needle inside his eye socket. For the second time today, blood filled my mouth, mixed with whatever else leaked out of Bo’s ruined eye. His screams must have echoed throughout the estate, but I wanted all the fuckers to hear.

He managed to get free of my grip and crashed to the floor, leaving some of his beard in my fist. He squirmed, holding his face but failing to stop the flow of blood.

Feeling out of my body, I stood up and stepped over him on my way to the bathroom, warm blood underneath my bare feet. The cold water turned red until my face was clean. Blood still clung to my shirt and hair, but I didn’t care. In the background, Bo’s screams faded into sobs, with the occasional threat to kill me.

I wiped my face with a towel and stepped out of the bathroom. Without looking at the pathetic form on the floor, I exited the room and closed the door behind me, welcoming the eerie silence. With no destination in mind, I walked barefoot down the dim and familiar hallway, leaving bloody footprints in my wake.

“Jonah.”

I stopped, surprised I hadn’t noticed Eliot standing in front of me.

“What happened?” He hurried toward me. “Are you hurt?”

“No.”

“Then whose blood is it?”

“Bo’s.”

He sighed in relief. “Is he alive?”

“Yes.”

He touched my shoulder. “I came to take you to see Mr. White and my brother. They would like a word with you.”

“Then we shouldn’t keep them waiting.”

*

“Quite a day you’ve been having,” Mr. White said after I told them what I’d done.

The Director had sent someone to check up on Bo, but none of them seemed overly concerned, making me think I should have maimed the bastard long ago. We were sitting in the dungeon for some reason, the four of us in a circle. The Director and Eliot seemed tense, glancing at each other.

“Why am I here?” I asked.

“You’ve created quite a predicament,” Mr. White said. “Saving the life of a Society member must never go unrewarded, however, we rarely find ourselves in life-and-death situations these days, and they never involved someone in your… position.”

“I don’t understand what you’re saying, sir.”

“You deserve a reward, Jonah, and I have the means to grant it to you.” Mr. White held my gaze. “What would you wish for?”

I shook my head. “You can’t give me what I want.”

“Ask,” The Director said, his voice rasping.

Next to him, Eliot nodded in encouragement.

I rubbed my face. They were playing with me, fucking with my head. But I was exhausted, mentally and physically, and I had nothing to lose by saying, “I would like my freedom back.”

None of them seemed surprised, and why would they? It wasn’t like I was going to ask for nicer clothes. I waited for them to say that it could not be done, but Mr. White’s next words sent a shockwave through my heart. “That can be arranged.”

I watched his mouth, waiting for a crooked smile, for a laugh. He said, “However, it might require a bit more convincing for the other High Council members to agree. We will need to be creative and show them how truly worthy of freedom you are.”

“You’re lying,” I spat. “You won’t ever let me leave this place. I’m not stupid.”

“He’s telling the truth.” Eliot sounded as if he could barely believe it himself.

I opened my mouth to call him a liar—because wasn’t he the biggest liar of all? But I couldn’t deny the honesty in his eyes, and it rattled me to my core.

“What… what do you mean by being creative?” I asked Mr. White, scratching my knees with my nails, wishing for a needle.

“We need to know that we can trust you, Jonah, that you won’t speak about your time here to anyone.”

“I won’t.” My eyes began to sting, my breath quickening. “I swear.”

“Actions speak louder than words, as they say.” Mr. White turned to a guard by the entrance. “Bring him.”

When the guard left, I asked, “Who’s he bringing?”

“Our creative solution, of course.” Mr. White glanced to the front of the room, where men were tortured every day. “Is the recording equipment working?”

“Yes,” I said warily.

“Then please turn on the cameras.”

I tried to meet The Director’s eyes, but he was staring at his hands. I pushed myself to my feet, the lumps of blood on my shirt beginning to clot. I went to turn on the four cameras, all aimed at the staging area.

It’s a trick, I kept telling myself. The cruelest punishment imaginable for daring to hurt one of their own. But how could that be, since Eliot had come to get me before he knew about Bo?

I turned around at the sound of struggle. Two guards dragged naked Nathan down the stairs. His skin was slick with sweat, his face bruised and bleeding.

Watching him made the pieces fall into place. I was going to torture him on camera—to fully transform into one of them. And if I ever spoke of these people or this place, they would have proof of my participation in their horrible acts.

Mr. White signaled me to come closer. I returned to face the three men who held my life in their hands.

“Do you understand what is required of you?” Mr. White asked.

Neither The Director nor Eliot met my eyes.

“I understand,” I said. “I can do it.”

Mr. White nodded. “Good. I knew you were special, and now the world will once more get to enjoy your presence. We shall discuss the technical terms of your freedom after we’re done with this unpleasant affair.”

I managed a stiff nod, beginning to believe that this might truly be happening.

“Get him ready,” Mr. White told the guards.

They dragged Nathan to the front of the room and chained him to the ceiling, making him stand on his tiptoes. His dark copper hair had grown long enough to reach his shoulders, all tangled and filthy.

I took a breath to steady my heart, but I’d lost control of its drumming. I asked Mr. White, “Should I start?”

“No time like the present, but you’ll first need this, of course.” He reached inside his blazer and pulled out a gun. I took a step back, almost losing my footing. He chuckled. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were surprised.”

“What… what do you want me to do with that?”

He cocked his head, frowning. “Oh, my. We don’t seem to be on the same page here. Let me be even clearer. You are to shoot Nathan until he turns into a corpse. Better?”

My eyes darted from The Director to Eliot, their stoic expression indicating they had known about this.

“I… I can’t kill him!” My panic surged, tightening my throat. “I’ll hurt him, but—”

“There’s no ‘but,’ Jonah.” Mr. White raised the gun for me to take. “One way out, and one way only.”

And what if I shoot you instead? By the smile on Mr. White’s face, he was reading my thoughts and finding them amusing.

Shooting him wouldn’t get me out of here; shooting Nathan would.

“Please don’t make—”

“I’m losing my patience, Jonah, and I find your ungratefulness insulting. If we’re done here—”

“No!” Nothing scared me more than losing this chance of freedom. I forced my shaky hand to close around the gun. It felt heavier than I’d expected.

“How do I… how do I use it?”

“The safety’s off,” Mr. White said. “You just point and shoot.”

“You can do it, Jonah.” Eliot attempted a reassuring smile, but his nervousness showed.

Did he think that by regaining my freedom, his sin would be forgiven?

With the gun heavy in my hand, I walked to face Nathan, aware of the stillness in the air and the tightness in my lungs.

With both his eyes bruised and almost shut, Nathan said, “You should’ve let me kill him.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It doesn’t matter now. I’d have done the same in your place. Fuck, I really thought I could wear them down.” He lowered his eyes to the gun in my hand, his Adam’s apple moving. “Aim for the head, okay? Make it nice and quick.”

“I’m sorry,” I said again, my words hollow and my tears unworthy. My heart beat so fast it felt like it might burst.

“I’m sorry too.” He wet his lips. “If I could be as soulless as you, I would’ve been the one standing in your place. Go on. Stop wasting my—”

I blew his head off.

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

2006

Hours had turned into endless days. They kept me locked in the same room, making me worry I’d lose my mind. I slowly walked from wall to wall, forcing my healing leg to soldier through the pain. Whenever Samuel came to check on me, I pretended I couldn’t walk, making him carry me to use the toilet and to take a shower. He wasn’t cruel or violent, but he refused to answer any of my questions.

It drove me crazy being so close to Hayden without seeing him. Dark thoughts began to blossom in my restless brain, and with nothing to do but wait, my fears morphed into panic attacks, and there were no needles to help.

On what felt like the fifth day, Samuel arrived with a wheelchair. “Bo’s waiting for you.”

Meeting him meant that things were finally moving, yet it remained to be seen toward what outcome. I’d been waiting for days for this moment, and now I wished I’d done more to prepare, but who was I kidding? Even after all these years, nothing could prepare me for Bo.

I leaned against Samuel as he helped me into the wheelchair. “When can I see Hayden?”

“Fuck, you’re annoying. Ask Bo that. I don’t call the shots.”

For the first time, I saw a different part of the estate. My mouth opened in surprise when Samuel wheeled me through a hallway with windows.

“Wait. Can I look outside?”

He sighed and wheeled me closer to a window, then helped me up so I could see. Everywhere I looked, I saw sand. Dunes and dunes. I squinted at what seemed to be the faraway skyline of Las Vegas. It must have been a few hours’ drive from here. When I pressed my face to the window, I could see more of the estate, which was shaped like a U. It didn’t seem nearly as large as I’d expected, and only had a single floor.

“They didn’t used to have windows,” I said, almost to myself. I had gone through months without seeing the sun. Even Mr. White’s rare invites were during nighttime.

“That’s a bummer. Sit your ass down.”

I did, and Samuel wheeled me farther into the heart of the estate.

“How many people do you keep captive?” I asked, not expecting an answer but feeling too nervous to keep quiet.

“Four.”

“Four? Does that include Hayden and Nick?”

“Yes.”

So few?

“Here we are.” Samuel stopped in front of a wooden door and opened it without knocking. The office was wide and cozy, reminding me of the office I’d spent countless hours in with The Director, but this one didn’t have a fireplace or anything resembling art. At least it had a window, letting in sunlight.

“Where is he?” I asked as Samuel wheeled me in.

“He’s coming. Sit on the couch.”

I shifted from the wheelchair to the leather couch. In front of me was a tall mirror with a golden frame. I looked paler than usual, and my hair had begun to grow long enough for curls to reemerge. Hayden would like that.

The door opened behind me, and my body turned to stone.

“Leave us,” Bo said, followed by the door closing.

He walked around the couch and stopped in front of me, leaving me with no choice but to raise my gaze and meet his single eye. The other was covered by a black eye patch. He was still stocky, still with a messy beard that now had streaks of gray. He wore nice clothes: a black button-down shirt and clean blue jeans. Yet no lipstick could help this pig.

“I hoped you’d be less pretty,” Bo said and glanced at my leg. “You can’t walk?”

“No.”

“Good thing you’ve nowhere to walk to.” He took a chair and sat close to me. “Who else knows you’re here?”

“No one.”

“Prey… don’t lie to me.”

My blood grew hot. “Don’t call me that.”

He arched an eyebrow, the one above his missing eye. “Should we have a talk about what I can and cannot do to you?”

I shook my head, recomposing myself. Back then, there was only so much he could do without The Director intervening. Now, there was no one to hold him back, and I had to remember that.

“I worked with a former FBI agent who is related to Hayden. We tried to find this place, but Samuel saw me at the motel, and it all went to shit.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that—you’re here, after all.” His smile was as nasty as I remembered.

“Where’s Hayden?”

Bo shrugged. “How would I know? You think I keep tabs on all the people we have here?”

All four of them? As always, Bo was full of shit.

“Are you the one who sent Hayden the videos of me?”

He shook his head. “That was your old friend, Mr. White. But what did you expect, dating a detective? I mean, yeah, he has a big cock, but still.” He crossed his legs. “Mr. White has become more paranoid in his old age. Too many members left, and you can never know when someone might say the wrong thing to the wrong people.”

I crossed my arms, pondering Bo’s words. Mr. White could have told me directly to break up with Hayden, but he chose to play his little games. “Then the High Council still calls the shots?”

“White’s the last remaining council member. He reached out to me a few years ago and offered me this gig. Between you and me, it didn’t feel like he was swimming in options.”

“Then The Society really is dying?”

“It sure is, and I saw it coming years ago. Some things die slowly.” He took off his shoes and placed his foot in my lap. “You know how I like it.”

I sighed and began massaging his foot. “Was Mr. White the one who chose to kidnap Nick?”

“Nah, that was me.”

I gave him a hard look. “Why?”

He smiled at my anger. “Agatha suggested him as an option, and when she mentioned you two were fucking, I couldn’t resist.”

Even though I had no way of controlling what happened to Nick, a flame of guilt stirred in my chest. “Who had Agatha killed?”

“Mr. White took care of that after she told him the police were on to her. If there was ever anyone who knew too much, it was her.”

“And who was stupid enough to put Nick’s video online?”

Bo narrowed his remaining eye. “Which video?”

Interesting. “His torture video.”

“How the fuck do you know about that?”

“The police found it on the Darknet.”

He growled and rubbed his face. “That’s the last time I try selling things over there.”

“You did it for money?”

“No, for the love of art. Of course, for money. If this place is going down, I want to walk out with enough cash to keep me happy till I’m done and buried.”

“You’re going to use some of that cash to support your family?”

He pulled his foot from me, and I knew I should have kept my mouth shut.

“You’ve been snooping, Prey. Did you tell them anything about me?”

“I didn’t speak with them directly.”

He leaned down and put his hand on my knee, close to my bullet wound. “You feel entitled to play high and mighty with me? You, who helped film all those poor fuckers being tortured?” His hand climbed higher. “Aren’t you the one who blew Nathan’s head off to get out of here?” He squeezed my wound. I screamed and dug my nails into the couch, my common sense preventing me from pushing him away.

When he finally let go, I fought to remain conscious, my body drenched in sweat. He’d reopened the wound, and now blood was soaking into my pants.

“Fuck, I missed our little games, Prey.”

I rubbed my damp face, my head spinning as the pain slowly subsided.

“Remember this?” He raised his eye patch.

Bile shot up my throat, but I didn’t look away from the deformed skin inside his empty eye socket.

“They needed to scoop out what was left of my eye. Fun times.”

If he was trying to shock me, he was missing the mark; I felt nothing but pride.

He lowered the patch. “Still a cold bastard, I see. Good. I was worried you might’ve gotten soft.”

“Where’s Hayden?”

“You don’t need him; I’ve got all the cock you could want.”

“Bo, where is he?” I inhaled. “Please.”

His smile chilled me. “What do you mean? He’s right here.”

I looked around in alarm, but Hayden wasn’t in the room, and I was falling into Bo’s twisted games.

“Take me to see him.”

He sighed. “Do you like playing dumb? I told you he was right here.”

I glanced around again until my eyes landed on the tall mirror in front of me.

No.

Bo chuckled. “Knew you’d catch on eventually. He heard everything we said.”

Then he now knew about my involvement in those videos, and how I’d killed Nathan to regain my freedom. I rubbed my flushed face, the air barely reaching my lungs.

“See that little button over there? Press it.”

I never wanted—yet dreaded—anything more in my life. I spotted the small button next to the mirror’s frame, still partly convinced that Bo was lying. I maneuvered myself back into the wheelchair, absently aware of the blood trickling down my leg. My ghostly face stared back at me, growing larger as I wheeled myself forward. I raised my hand, hovering over the button.

“Prey… don’t keep him waiting.”

I pressed the button.

The mirror’s glass slid aside, revealing another glass layer—a transparent one. I grabbed the edges of the wheelchair, sitting still yet feeling as though I was falling.

“It’s almost one hundred degrees in there,” Bo said through the ringing in my ears, “that’s why he’s so sweaty. I made it freezing yesterday—you should’ve seen how tight his balls got.”

I put my palm on the glass, overwhelmed by rage and guilt.

Hayden’s gaze was hazy, unable to focus despite the recognition in his eyes. He sat naked on a chair in the middle of a closet-sized space, his arms shackled to the ceiling. An infusion bag was attached with a needle to his vein. He didn’t have a lot of bruises, but he’d lost so much weight, his ribs were poking out, and his beard couldn’t hide his sunken cheeks.

“How…” I cleared my throat, but it felt filled with ash. “How long have you been keeping him like that?”

“I have him put there whenever I’m in the office, so I’d say around six hours a day—sometimes more if I forget he’s there.” He came to stand next to me, his hand on my shoulder. “I love watching him. I tell him all about the fun times you and I had. He gets a real kick out of those stories.”

“Bo—”

“Hold on; check this out.” He took a small remote from his pocket. At the sight of the device, Hayden’s eyes grew wide with fear. He shook his head frantically, mouthing “no.” Bo laughed. “See how excited he gets? He loves it!” He turned the dial on the remote. Behind the glass, Hayden began to squirm, his face clenched as he gripped the chain that kept his hands raised.

“It’s up his ass,” Bo whispered. “So high, it must be tickling his stomach. In two minutes, he’ll get hard. Wait another few minutes, and he’ll shoot all over himself. I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve milked him like that.” He turned the dial again, and Hayden squirmed harder. The shame in his eyes was louder than sound.

“Stop. Bo, stop!”

He did, and Hayden’s head slumped, his chest heaving. Beads of sweat slipped down his body.

“Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you’re getting soft, Prey. You’ve seen worse.”

I wheeled myself back, needing to think without letting my emotions pilot my mouth. “What do you want?” I met his smug gaze. “What will make you leave him alone?”

“I don’t negotiate when I don’t have to.”

“Bo.” I closed my palm over his crotch. He flinched but didn’t shove me away. “I want you to let him rest.” I massaged his cock through his pants. “You’ve got your kick out of him, and now you’re getting bored.”

He snorted, hardening against my palm. “You think I’m bored?”

“You get bored easily, and now you have me.” I leaned my face and sniffed his crotch, aware of Hayden seeing and hearing everything.

“I don’t need to let him out to get what I want from you.”

“You don’t need to,” I said, raising my face, “but it will make it more fun to make me work for it.”

He grabbed my jaw, pressing until the pain caused my eyes to water. “Fuck you, Prey. You know me too well. We’re gonna give the world’s shittiest detective here one hell of a show, or I’ll make him melt in there.” He let go of my face and gave me the remote. “Make him dance.”

I glanced at Hayden, who nodded his approval, though he seemed close to passing out. I took a breath and turned the dial up, watching Hayden's face contort, his body twitching and quivering on the chair.

I’m sorry.

“Prey…”

I tore away my gaze and lowered Bo’s zipper, knowing how to dance this dance.

*

In the quiet of my room, I pushed my brain to its limit, trying to recall all that I’d learned from my hellish time with Bo. It was hard to concentrate with images of tormented Hayden circling in my head, but there was too much on the line for me to dwell in remorse.

There were two things that Bo had said earlier that gave me hope, although they weren’t necessarily connected. One was about how and why Nick’s video found its way to the Darknet, and the other one was about Mr. White, who’d apparently been growing paranoid in his old age.

The door opened, and Samuel walked in holding a tray. He had wheeled me back to the room earlier after stopping to get my wound restitched. I had a hefty dose of painkillers in my system, but my leg still throbbed. Samuel gave me the tray with the same tasteless food I’d been having for days. Before he could turn to leave, I said, “Wait.”

He sighed and crossed his arms. “What is it?”

“I know what Bo has been doing to Hayden.”

His expression softened. “He shouldn’t have snooped.”

“He’s a detective.”

“And how’s that been going for him?”

I held back my anger because I needed his help. “Bo promised to let Hayden out after we… he promised.”

Samuel nodded. “Yeah, he’s out. Resting.”

I exhaled, both relieved and surprised Bo had gone through with his promise. “Thank you for telling me.”

He turned to leave.

“Wait. Do you know Mr. White?”

“Yeah, I’ve met him a few times.” It sounded like he would have preferred not to have met him at all.

“I need you to send him a message from me.”

“Sure. Should I add a fruit basket with that?”

“Bo is putting this operation in danger.”

Samuel rolled his eyes. “Here we go. Bo warned me you’d try to pull off something like that.”

Of course he did. “Did he also tell you he’s been selling videos on the Darknet?”

Samuel narrowed his eyes. “Explain.”

“When the police started to investigate Nick’s disappearance, they found a video of him being tortured on the Darknet. Bo confessed to me that he was the one who sold the video for money. If you tell that to Mr. White, he won’t let it slide.”

Samuel chewed on his bottom lip, face troubled. “I think that I should speak with Bo before starting something that might kick me in the ass later.”

“Go ahead.” I shrugged to mask my dread. “I’m sure he’d be fine with having one of his employees know his secret. He definitely won’t kill you for that.”

He took a step forward, and I readied myself for pain. “You’re playing with fire, Jonah. I’ve tried very hard to be cool with you, but you’re pushing it.”

“I’ve got nothing to lose, and I’m telling the truth. I don’t know how many other videos he sold, but he is putting all of you in danger. Please tell that to Mr. White. You know he’ll reward you for speaking up.”

He snorted. “You think you know him?”

“As much as one can know a psychopath.”

Samuel seemed thoughtful, and I used the opportunity to ask, “What were you in prison for?”

He leaned back as if I’d hit him. “Fuck, you have nerves.”

“They offered you freedom, didn’t they? That’s how they do it.”

“It was different for me.” He shook his head. “Why am I even talking to you?”

I remained silent, and eventually he exhaled and said, “My twin brother used to be in a gang. No matter how much my mother and I begged him to stay away from that shit, he always thought he knew best. When one of their leaders killed someone, they pressured my brother into taking the blame, to show his loyalty. I asked why the fuck he cared about loyalty if he was gonna end up in prison, but he feared that refusing would get him killed. He got twenty years for pleading guilty. About five years later, Mr. White came to see me.”

I frowned. “He came to see you in person?”

“Yes, maybe because mine was a special case.”

“He offered to free your brother if you came to work for him.”

He nodded. “He wanted ten years, but I got him down to seven. My mother was dying of cancer, and giving her that gift felt worth it. So I agreed, and my brother got out a few months later.”

“Why didn’t he offer this job to your brother?”

“I asked the same thing, and he said he only needed a few people, and working with criminals had proved problematic in the past.”

Yet he still made Bo The Director.

“How long ago was it?” I asked.

“About four years ago. Last year, my brother returned to his old gang. Didn’t take long for him to end up dead with six bullet wounds in an alley.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Fucker had no value for other people’s sacrifices. Anyway, that’s life. I should have asked more questions before signing up for this, that’s for goddamn sure.”

“Then can you please speak with Mr. White before it’s too late?”

Samuel sighed and shook his head, then exited the room, leaving uncertainty in his wake.

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

I was scared by the lack of violence.

Bo had never been one to control his temper, and even though years had passed since we last met, a tiger did not change its stripes. Even yesterday, when he fucked me in front of barely conscious Hayden, I felt him holding back.

But why?

I had learned how to handle Bo at his meanest, and this calculated and tamed version of him terrified me. I had no doubt he loved every second of keeping me boiling in dread.

When Samuel walked into my room with the wheelchair, his somber expression signaled bad news. “Where are you taking me?”

“Just get in the chair.”

“Did you speak with Mr. White?”

He pulled me off the bed and into the wheelchair. The dormant pain in my leg erupted, making me yell.

“Sorry,” he said. “Just don’t make this harder.”

Grimacing, I didn’t struggle as he wheeled me out, but I couldn’t shake the menacing feeling of being taken to my execution.

“I wasn’t lying,” I said. “He put those videos online.”

“Shut up, Jonah. Just… don’t act stupid, okay? He’s not playing.”

“What is he planning?”

“I don’t know.”

We stopped in front of two large wooden doors. I was sure that whatever awaited on the other side would determine everything, and I didn’t feel ready for the upcoming war.

Samuel opened both doors, the bright light blinding. I rubbed my eyes and soaked in my surroundings. We were in a conservatory, the desert sun shining through the glass walls and ceiling. The scent of soil was strong in the air because of the rich vegetation all around.

And in the center of it all sat two bound men, wearing the same gray clothes as I. Hayden had a gag deep in his mouth, stretching his lips. His eyes seemed sharper than the last time I saw him, but seeing him so helpless and weak churned my stomach.

“Jonah?”

I shifted my gaze to the young man sitting in the other chair. “Hey, Nick.”

“Jonah! What the fuck? Did they get you too? And why are you in a wheelchair?” I didn’t get a chance to answer before he broke into sobs. “It’s horrible here! The Director’s a monster, and some of the others, but Samuel’s okay.”

“Nick, enough,” Samuel said from behind me, a subtle fondness in his voice.

Nick took hold of himself, paler and skinnier than when I’d last seen him, but he had clearly been treated better than Hayden.

The doors opened behind me, then closed again with a loud thud. I held my breath as Bo entered my line of sight, moving to stand between Hayden and Nick. While Hayden sent daggers with his eyes, Nick looked away, trying to make himself smaller.

Bo wore dark clothes, his hair neatly combed and his beard groomed.

As if he was going out to an event.

“Bring him closer.”

Samuel wheeled me forward, and it took all my self-control not to reach out to touch Hayden. He seemed petrified, making me even more determined to keep myself composed. Bo stood behind Hayden and placed his hands on his shoulders. “I’m not an expert in rescue missions, but this has got to be one of the shittiest ones in history.”

“Wait.” Nick watched me with wide eyes. “You came here to rescue me?”

Bo burst into laughter. “You think he’s here for you? Nah, Jonah likes them manlier.” He grabbed Hayden’s hair and turned him to look at Nick. “He came all this way to help his detective boyfriend; not you, Nicky boy.”

Nick looked away. “Oh.”

“Don’t worry; he’ll get a chance to be your friend in a bit.”

I watched Bo closely. Something about his last words sent a shiver down my spine.

“Have I told you how I lost my eye?” Bo asked Nick.

“No.”

“Jonah did it with a needle.”

Nick gasped at me. “What?”

“You heard me. He stuck it deep inside, then wriggled it until my eye leaked all over him. He held me by the beard until he was sure he got everything. When I screamed on the floor, he stepped over me and left me to bleed.”

Hayden sat very still, looking at me with wariness in his eyes, but also pride. By now, he knew the monster I had to deal with.

“Jonah was here before?” Nick stared at me in disbelief.

“Not in this exact place, but yeah, a long time ago. He got The Director before me wrapped around his little finger.”

“Bo, why are we here?” I asked, sounding calmer than I felt.

“Why?” He looked around him. “Seems like as good a place as any to celebrate karma, doesn’t it?”

I remained quiet, anxiety spreading in my chest as my blood grew colder.

Bo walked to the back, disappearing from my line of sight. I used the opportunity to reach out to Hayden, placing my palm over his. His skin was alarmingly hot, his chest heaving. I wanted to whisper something reassuring, but we were past lying.

I removed my hand when Bo returned, pushing a medical tray stand. He wheeled the stand between Hayden and Nick, and we all stared at the two items lying on the tray: a long metal needle and a spoon.

My face remained composed, but underneath my skin, everything quivered.

Bo picked up the needle, holding it under the sunlight like a diamond. “It’s bigger than the one you used on me.”

“Bo—”

“And why the spoon, you ask? Well, how else would you scoop out all the gross parts?” 

I gathered saliva in my mouth because it had grown drier than the desert outside. “You know I won’t do it.”

“I know you better than anyone, remember? You’ll do it.” He put his hand on Hayden’s shoulder. “One eye from him.” He put his other hand on Nick’s shoulder. “Or two eyes from him.”

Nick bursts into sobs, making it hard for me to concentrate. Bo had known I’d choose to hurt Nick over Hayden, which was why Nick was at risk of losing both his eyes and why Bo hadn’t gagged him—so I could hear him begging.

“Sir.” Samuel cleared his throat. “That’s taking it too far.”

Bo gave him a chilling glare. “Stand back if you can’t stomach it.”

I heard Samuel’s footsteps, but since the door remained closed, he must have gone to stand at the back.

“My eyes,” Nick sobbed. “I don’t want to lose my eyes!”

“Well, yeah, it sucks.” Bo ran his fingers through Nick’s blond hair. “You have to be a real psychopath to take out both of someone’s eyes instead of one. A real, cold-blooded psychopath.”

Hayden jerked in his chair, pulling at his bindings. Bo smacked the side of his head. “Quiet, you. You’re getting out easy, unlike poor Nicky.”

Nick’s sobs grew louder, and God help me, but I wanted him to shut up so badly. I couldn’t think, couldn’t plan.

“Pick up the needle, Prey. Time to get to business.”

I shook my head, my vocabulary a blank page.

Bo picked up the needle and held it in front of Hayden’s face. I stopped myself from reaching out to grab his hand. He ran the tip of the needle across Hayden’s bearded cheek. “Why are you being dramatic, Prey? He’ll be fine with one less eye, and I’ll have him back behind the mirror in no time.”

Hayden remained still, his breaths shallow and rapid, beads of sweat sliding down his face.

“Oh, I know what the problem is; you forgot how to use it!” He grabbed Hayden’s shirt and tore it open. I held my breath as he pinched Hayden’s nipple, pulling it forward while bringing the needle closer.

“Bo, stop!”

“Then how else will you remember?”

Hayden screamed into his gag as the needle pierced his skin. I gripped the armrests of my wheelchair, fearing that any attempt to stop Bo would make this worse. He roughly twisted the needle inside Hayden’s flesh, drawing blood. “Did he ever tell you he used to do this to himself?” Bo asked Hayden, who moaned in pain, his eyes tightly shut. “I used to find bloody needles in his room all the time. He said it helped relax him.”

He finally pulled the needle out, then scooped the blood with his finger and brought it to my face. “Sit still.” He smeared it at the corners of my mouth, drawing a bloody smile. “Now we have a happy, smiling Prey.” He placed the needle back on the tray. “Okay, now get to work.”

“Fuck you,” I hissed, the blood quickly drying on my skin.

“It’s either an eye or a bullet to the detective’s head—something you’re also familiar with, aren’t you?”

Hayden made a sound to get my attention. When our eyes met, I understood what he wanted me to do.

“I can’t.” I had no right to cry, but my tears didn’t care. “I can’t, Hayden.”

It sounded like he was saying, “You can.”

“I’m… I’m feeling sick.” Nick threw up on himself.

Bo sighed. “Wonderful. Prey, do your thing before we start smelling like puke.”

I forced myself to look at the bloody needle. My hand weighed a ton as I reached to pick it up. Bo stood too far for me to reach, likely knowing I’d try to attack.

“Who will it be?” he asked like a host in a twisted game show.

Hayden tried to keep his panic at bay, but he couldn’t control the heaving of his chest or the grayness that took over his face. His bravery could only go so far.

I would have fought harder if I had any doubt about Bo’s willingness to shoot Hayden. I glanced at the needle in my hand. In the back of my mind, an idea began to form, and with it, I could finally breathe easier.

I raised the needle and brought it close to my eye.

“Prey… what the hell are you doing?”

“An eye for an eye.”

He shook his head. “Noble of you, but that won’t cut it.”

“It will.” I brought the needle closer, enough to see the tip as a blur. “My eye instead of theirs.” I wasn’t naive enough to bargain for our freedom, but I just needed to survive this bloody battle and buy us more time.

Bo chuckled. “You know, I think I dig this little plot twist.” He tapped Hayden’s shoulder. “But only if the detective here gets to scoop up the leftovers. Let’s make it a team effort.”

Hayden jerked violently, yelling through his gag and trying to catch my gaze. I blocked him out because this wasn’t about him—it was for him. He never would have forgiven me if I had hurt Nick to spare him.

“You’ll need to wriggle it inside,” Bo said. “Make everything nice and mushy.”

My stomach churned, pulse drumming. My idea seemed simpler a minute ago, but I was quickly losing my shit and failing to keep my hand steady. No going back. I gripped the armchair with my other hand and drew a tight breath, the blur growing larger as I prepared myself for unfathomable pain. I feared I couldn’t hold on to the needle once it penetrated my eye, meaning I’d need to do it again until Bo was satisfied.

“Sir, you have a phone call.”

I stopped, wondering if I’d imagined Samuel’s voice.

“What?” Bo snapped.

“Mr. White would like a word.”

I dropped my hand with a weary exhale, the needle hitting the floor without making a sound. My body ached, my heart smashing against my chest.

“You fucking called him?”

“He was already on his way over, sir. I don’t think it’s wise to keep him waiting.”

Bo growled and strode past me. I rubbed my damp face, fighting to stay conscious as my blood pressure dropped.

Bo spoke on the phone, but the buzzing in my ears drowned out his words. Shortly after, he shouted, “Get them back to their fucking rooms!

*

With Bo gone, I pushed myself up from the wheelchair and limped to Hayden.

“Bastard,” Samuel said from behind, “I knew you could walk.”

I pulled the gag from his mouth and gently wiped the saliva from his chin. “Are you okay?”

The man who hated showing weakness said, “I’m not doing so great.” He managed a feeble smile. “Getting better, though.”

I pressed my forehead against his, my hands on both sides of his face.

“Jonah, Mr. White asked that you stay here until he arrives,” Samuel said.

“Can Hayden stay with me?”

“No.”

I kissed Hayden’s chapped lips. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Don’t do anything reckless, Joe, or more reckless. I mean it.”

“Okay.” Though he should have known I’d do whatever it took to get him out of here.

I turned to Nick, who looked very young and rattled, his puke soaking into his shirt. “Are you okay?”

“I… yes. I think. I’m happy to see you.” I could almost hear him thinking, ‘Even though you aren’t here for me.’

I went to untie Nick as Samuel untied Hayden. When Nick was able to stand, we hugged. “Sorry about the puke,” he said, sobbing on my shoulder.

“It’s fine.” I wondered if he’d already figured out that his involvement with me had been the reason why he was chosen for this.

Hayden needed to lean on Samuel as he let him and Nick out of the conservatory. Once alone, I slumped into the wheelchair, my leg throbbing.

Time passed, and it dawned on me that I would soon meet Mr. White again. The man who had stuck the first needle into my flesh, granted me my freedom, and later destroyed my relationship with Hayden, was once again holding my life in his hands.

I breathed in the rich scent of soil and plants to calm myself down. With the desert spread before me, I could almost feel an imaginary wind stroking my face.

When the doors finally opened, Mr. White entered wearing a white suit. He walked slowly using a cane to help him reach the chair next to me. He let out a weary sigh as he settled. His short, white hair was striking against his dark skin, and his eyes were as sharp as the day I last saw him, when he sent me back into the world with a tracker in my leg and an oath to follow his rules.

He scanned my face. “You look ridiculous.” I assumed he meant the fake smile of blood. “Is that puke on your shirt?”

“Yes.”

“Lovely.” He glanced at my leg. “I was told your running days are behind you.”

“I was never much of a runner.”

“Yet you still found your way here.” He shook his head, both palms gripping the golden handle of his cane. “Your impulsiveness is astonishing, Jonah. Wasn’t my gift to you generous?”

“You took Hayden.”

“Did your snooping detective leave me any other choice? I tried to separate the two of you months ago, but perhaps I was too subtle.”

“There was nothing subtle about those videos you sent.”

“I can name a few less subtle methods if you prefer.” His eyes hardened. “You should have kept him away from us.”

“I tried.”

“And you failed. Now, here we are, with a mess on our hands.”

I couldn’t deny that. “How desperate were you to give Bo this job?”

He chuckled. “Quite, but in my defense, we both knew his role would be short-lived. With the number of members at an all-time low, this place—our entire organization—has become meaningless.”

“Then you need to let it die already.”

He sighed. “You are as blunt as you are correct. My beloved Society is all but a memory.”

I felt encouraged hearing that, knowing he had no real reason to keep us here. “So, what happens next?”

He watched me with rare uncertainty. The man who had been controlling the game for decades now needed to deal with pieces that didn’t fit. Fearing what he might say, I blurted out, “Bo has been—”

“I’m aware of Bo’s actions. Samuel informed me of your little discovery.”

I straightened. “I gave you information, and I deserve something in return.”

He snorted. “I can’t honestly think of anyone in a worse position than you to negotiate, but I appreciate the attempt.”

“I want to walk out of here with Hayden and Nick.”

“I’m sure you do.” He waved a finger. “Two handsome men, Jonah? Someone was being greedy.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Well, it’s none of my business, but what will become of the three of you is.” Our eyes remained locked, and it became clear I wouldn’t be leaving this place alive, and neither would Hayden and Nick.

“I’m sorry, Jonah. I’m an old man, and I wish to spend my remaining days in peace. There are already too many loose threads out there, and I’d be a fool to add even more. This estate holds enough explosives to blow it to pieces—as did all of our previous estates. One can never be too careful.”

I failed to find my voice; the sense of failure was devastating.

“I’ll let you have one more day together,” he said, but I could barely process his words. He suddenly narrowed his eyes and turned his gaze toward the sky, watching like a hawk. Seconds later, I heard the strange sound too—a buzzing that quickly grew louder. We watched in tense silence as the dot in the sky took the unmistakable shape of a helicopter. It seemed that Ben’s old Mary Sue could still fly, although she sounded like a tractor.

“Friends of yours?” Mr. White asked warily.

“Yes, it’s the FBI.”

He snorted. “As someone who knows the FBI thoroughly, I can assure you that the struggling thing in the sky is not them.” His eyes fixed on my leg. “Did you let someone poke at your tracker?”

There was no point in lying. “Yes.”

He sighed. “Well, now we know how they found us.”

I recalled Tammy wanting to speak with Ben in private after he’d checked on my tracker. Had they already decided back then to track me?

“Well, this does complicate things,” Mr. White said as the helicopter passed overhead, vanishing from sight yet still loud in the background. He stared at the back of his weathered hands, his shoulders slumped.

“It’s over,” I said. “You know it is.”

He met my gaze, his eyes hard. “Because of a helicopter? By the time they manage to get in here, you and the rest will be gone.” He glanced at the rich vegetation. “Why do you think they grow so well out here?”

My skin warmed as I scanned the soil, trying to spot bumps in the ground. “You’re lying.”

“Am I?”

“They’ll follow my tracker.”

“Yes, and much good it will do you.”

I could no longer hear the helicopter. Did it fly away, or was my heart pounding too loudly to hear?

As I struggled to find what to say, I began to hear shouts from inside the estate, growing louder by the second. Mr. White and I turned our heads as the doors flew open. Bo burst inside, his face bloody.

“Sir!” He tripped and fell to his hands and knees.

Samuel walked behind him, blood smeared on his shirt.

“Sir, I know I’ve fucked up, but I’ve been loyal to you. I—”

“Acted like an idiot for greed—yes, I know.”

Bo crawled forward on his hands and knees, blood trickling from a cut on his cheek. I wheeled my chair back, afraid he might try to attack me.

“Sir, I can make it right. You know we still have a couple more years here.” He glanced at me, hatred peeking through his fear. “Some of the old members would love seeing him in action again.”

Mr. White looked away in thought, rubbing his chin. I gripped the armrests of my wheelchair, hating Bo with every fiber of my being.

“Sir,” Samuel said, “you can’t trust him.”

Mr. White nodded. “You’re right. Bo, I explained to you how crucial trust is for this role.”

“I know, but—”

“I had to have a LAPD detective kidnapped because of your recklessness.”

“But it’s done, sir. We have him!”

“What we have is a helicopter flying overhead, and God knows who else is coming.”

“We can hide them until it blows over. We…” I followed the direction of his gaze as it landed on Mr. White’s cane. After all these years, I knew how to read Bo, so I wasn’t surprised when he sprang forward and snatched the cane. Still on his knees, he swung it toward Mr. White’s head, but I was close enough to grab it before it could land.

My palm burned with the impact, but I didn’t let go. Samuel pulled Bo back, forcing him to let go of the cane. I looked at the beautiful wooden stick with the golden handle, feeling a strong sense of déjà vu. With a level of clarity I didn’t know I possessed, I thrust the tip of the cane into Bo’s right eye.

Once more, I watched him writhing on the floor, holding his face as his remaining eye bled out.

“Pathetic.” Mr. White took the cane from my hand. “Samuel, put the man out of his misery before I get a headache.”

Samuel dragged screaming Bo out of my line of sight. Even though I braced myself, I still jolted at the deafening sound of a gunshot. My ears rang, but the world felt quieter like after a storm.

I composed myself and said, “Ask me.”

Mr. White frowned. “Ask you what?”

“What I would like as a reward. I just saved the life of a Society member, didn’t I? Again.”

He laughed. “Oh my. There’s never a dull moment with you.”

“I deserve it.”

“No, Jonah, you deserve nothing. You had your chance.” He pushed himself to his feet with the cane. “Samuel, I expect we’ll have company soon. It’s time to clean up, and quickly. Start with Jonah, then meet me at the basement. The rest will be dealt with by the explosion.”

He made his way toward the door, and I locked my gaze with Samuel, praying that I was reading the hesitation in his eyes correctly. “He won’t let you go after this,” I said, aware that every word could be my last. “You know too much.”

Mr. White turned around, smiling in amusement. “Honestly, Jonah. I take good care of my men.”

“But he isn’t like your men.” I wheeled myself closer to Samuel, trying not to look at the gun in his hand. “He has no more use for you after this, and you know so fucking much. You saw what he’s willing to do to tie up loose ends. Let me finish this.”

“Samuel, enough with this nonsense. End him.”

Samuel raised the gun toward me. Holding my breath, I blinked in surprise, hoping I wasn’t imagining it. He offered me the grip of the gun.

“Samuel!”

I took the gun from him, my hand shaking enough to risk dropping it. I couldn’t help but remember Nathan. Like then, I had everything to lose by failing, but this time, I felt no remorse.

Mr. White sharply turned back. He tried to walk as fast as he could toward the door, and just as he was about to open it, I fired.

He fell to the ground, blood spreading across the back of his white suit. Before I could bring myself to shoot him again, he gave a final choking breath, then lay still.

I let my hand drop, my body covered in sweat. Samuel came to take the gun from me.

“Thank you,” I said.

“There are two more captives here. I’ll tell them they are being freed in exchange for their silence.”

“What about the others who work here?”

“There are only two of them. I’ll give them a chance to leave now that nobody’s left to pay them.”

“And if they refuse?”

“You know the answer.” He leaned down, his face leveled with mine. “Can you get whoever flies that helicopter to get you and the rest to safety?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Once we get everyone out of here, I’ll blow this place up—I know where the bombs are. But first, I need you to swear to me that you’ll never say a word about this to anyone. Let it die, Jonah.”

I glanced at Mr. White, trying to convince myself that ending him would have to be enough of a payback for what had been done to so many innocent men, though nothing would ever be enough.

“I promise,” I said. “I’ll let it die.”

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

“Is there too much sugar in your tea?” Hayden asked as he walked toward me from his car.

I was sitting on my porch, my healing leg itching inside the cast. “My tea has the right amount of sugar, thank you.”

He walked up the stairs, still looking thinner than usual. Behind him, the sun was setting, painting the sky in streaks of orange and red. He leaned down for a kiss, then sat beside me, a folder tucked under his arm. “How’s the leg?”

“It itches, but it doesn’t hurt.” During my stay at the hospital, the tracker had been surgically removed, accompanied by a flood of questions I refused to answer until they finally stopped asking. I’d likely have a limp for the rest of my life, and, as someone had recently told me, my running days were behind me.

“At least it looks nice,” Hayden said.

I glanced down at my cast, covered in cat drawings. “It’s grotesque. How’s Tammy?”

“She’ll be out of the hospital by the end of the week, unless they kick her out sooner. There are only so many times she can get caught smoking in the bathroom.”

I snickered and finished my tea. “Stubbornness runs in your family.”

“True.” He glanced at me. “How are you with the news?”

The news. “I don’t know.”

“You’re allowed to mourn.”

“Am I?” I’d wished him dead for years, and now I couldn’t shake an unwanted sense of loss, which left me frustrated.

Hayden held my hand. “Do you think he did it?”

“Took his own life? Yes, I think so.” I remembered the hollow look in his eyes after his brother’s death. I hated Eliot, but a part of me never stopped loving him, and that part was mourning, remembering the joy he’d brought into my life before taking it all away.

“Did you talk to Nick?” Hayden asked.

“Yes. He’s doing better. His parents are sending him to Italy to rest.”

“Well, that sounds…”

“Rich?”

He nodded. “That’s the word.”

Nick had promised not to tell what had happened to him, and I hoped he’d stay true to his word. The Chief had done his part in pushing back any attempts to investigate what happened.

Hayden cleared his throat. “I resigned today.”

I frowned at him. “What?”

“I’m no longer with the LAPD.”

“Why?”

“Why?” He chuckled without humor. “Joe, come on. I can’t work with the Chief after what happened.”

“What did he say about it?”

“Not much. He hasn’t been able to look me in the eye since I got back, so I’m sure he’s relieved to see me go. It feels like the right time for a fresh start.” He exhaled, and I realized how nervous he was.

I looked down at the folder under his arm. “What’s in there?”

“A fresh start, if you’re willing.” He handed me the folder.

I hesitated before opening the cover because things were finally stable, and wasn’t that enough of a fresh start? With the cover open, I frowned at the stack of photos, flipping through houses, rooms, and backyards.

“What am I looking at?”

He cleared his throat. “Those are houses in Phoenix that we can rent. Not all of them, obviously—one will do. They all have space for your studio.”

My studio. My house. My mountain.

Hayden caught my hesitation, though it felt more like panic.

“We’ll stay here if you don’t want to move,” he said, and I believed that he meant it. “I just thought that after everything that happened, you’d want to leave LA behind.”

It made sense for him to think that. For years, I hadn’t allowed myself to ponder the possibility of leaving, scared of the looming consequences. Even now, with the tracker no longer a part of my body, such thoughts felt dangerous.

And there was another thing standing in my way, floating between us and yet to be discussed. “In Bo’s office, you heard things about me. About what I did.”

“I might have heard a thing or two.”

“I killed a man, Hayden.”

“As did I, more than once.”

“That’s different.”

“Is it?”

He was letting me off the hook too easily, and I didn’t want him to. “You have the right to ask questions.”

“Do I also have the right to trust that you did what you had to do and not let it matter to me?”

“Well, yeah, I suppose you have that right.”

“Okay, then. But I want you to promise that if you ever feel like using a needle, you talk to me first. Let me try to help.”

Feeling transparent under his gaze, I nodded in acceptance. I flipped through the photos again, taking my time as Hayden sat still beside me, radiating tension. My initial panic slowly subsided, and through the cloud of dread, I began to see glimpses of what he was offering—for us to have a life together, unshackled by our past.

Though it would be foolish to think that our past wouldn’t cast a shadow over our lives. Hayden hadn’t returned the same from his time at the estate. A new heaviness hung over him, moments when the light in his eyes would dim, and he’d turn silent and thoughtful.

“We didn’t talk about what happened to you,” I said quietly, feeling hypocritical because I had kept similar information from him for much longer.

“It was hell,” he said flatly. “A nightmare that I need to work through. When I have a bit more distance from what happened, I’ll share more with you. That’s a promise.”

“Okay. I won’t push. But what about your career? Do you think you’ll find work in Phoenix?”

“The force there would love to have me back.”

“It won’t be as exciting as LA.”

“True, which means we’ll need to have more sex.”

“I don’t follow your logic, but I’m sure it makes sense to you.” I held up the photo of a house with a white porch and tall windows. “I like this one.”

“Well, shoot, that’s the most expensive one.”

“I don’t come cheap, mister.” I put the photo down and ran my fingers over it, trying to picture myself living in that house. I couldn’t quite make it work, but I was willing to keep trying. “You’ll need to be with me when I tell Jenny.”

“You play a dirty game, Jonah. Is that a yes, then?”

I watched the setting sun, just as I had done countless times from my fortress of solitude. I was scared of risking what little I had, but I couldn’t think of a risk more worth taking.

“It’s a yes,” I said, and the world felt bigger.

EPILOGUE

2007

“When is it going to start?”

“Any minute now.”

“It’s been a minute since the last time you said that. And where are the other kids?”

“Princess, I warned you it wouldn’t be your kind of thing.” I look around, and sure enough, Maya’s the only child in the small theater.

“I want to see Jonah act!”

“And you will, in a minute.”

She grunts and crosses her arms.

Despite Death of a Salesman not being appropriate for her age, having her here helps keep my nerves under control. I was the one to suggest that Jonah should try out for a local theater group. He firmly refused, but a few weeks later, he announced that he’d gone to audition and was offered a role in Death of a Salesman. It was the role of the son, Biff, Jonah’s favorite character in the play.

“There he is!” Maya squeals next to me.

I follow the direction of her finger, and sure enough, Jonah’s curly head pokes between the curtains, his eyes darting around the room. He’s nervous; I can tell with a single glance.

“Wait here,” I tell Maya, hoping she’ll listen. I only need to make four people stand before reaching the narrow path leading to the stage. I climb onto it and make my way backstage.

“You can’t be here,” Jonah says as he walks toward me, slightly limping from that damn bullet. Behind him, actors and crew members are finishing getting ready. I smile at Jonah’s costume—a farmer’s clothes, down to the dirty work boots.

“You look great.” With his baby face and curly hair, he makes for the most adorable farmer.

“Thanks, but you still shouldn’t be here.”

“Why are you nervous?” I ask instead.

“Why am I nervous? You know why.”

His face is pale, his brow damp beneath a thin layer of makeup.

I put my hands on his shoulders. “You have nothing to lose by fucking up.”

He cocks his head. “Is that your pep talk?”

“What I mean is—focus on the fun. Nothing hangs in the balance. It’s just going to be you having a blast on that stage. Fuck everything else.”

He crosses his arms and looks away, his jaw tight. “I shouldn’t be doing this. It brings up too many things.”

I feel a pang of guilt, angry at myself for putting this idea in his head in the first place. Despite going through hell and back with this man, his younger years are still a mystery, and I should have known better than to poke where I didn’t belong.

“You can walk away from this,” I say, “if that’s what you think is right.”

He looks around at the other cast members. “It’s too late now.” He draws a breath. “Worst case, I’ll just fuck up.” He winks.

More relieved than he can know, I ask, “Is there a policy against sexually harassing the lead before the show?”

He gives me a warning look. “I’m not the lead, and yes, there is. Go back to your seat before Maya comes here too.”

He has a point, but I still kiss him before returning to my seat.

“Did you see him?” Maya asks.

“Yep, he’s great.”

A minute later, the lights dim. I can barely breathe properly until the second scene starts and Jonah’s on stage. My nervousness vanishes when he begins to act, even though it takes him a few minutes to unwind and lose himself in the character.

Maya clenches my hand tightly, watching intently. She hasn’t been this quiet since the womb.

The only time Jonah almost breaks character is during the second act. It’s a heavy scene between Biff and his father, Willy. When Jonah’s supposed to deliver his next line, his gaze loses focus as if he’s drifting into recollection. The sadness on his face is painful to watch.

Just when I begin to worry, he clears his throat and says, “Why am I trying to become what I don’t want to be… when all I want is out there, waiting for me the minute I say I know who I am?”

END SCENE

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I first began to write Jonah’s tale about seven years ago, when I needed a break from writing my first book, Chaos in my Wake. Back then, End Scene was supposed to be my second book. When I returned to finish it after releasing Chaos, I struggled to embed myself in the story, so I decided to put it aside and write something else.

That something else has turned into the Unbreakable Ties trilogy, and as much as I enjoyed writing those books, Jonah’s tale kept floating in my mind. I couldn’t let his story become just another file on my computer, so I dove back in, and what followed was the book you’ve just read.

The most challenging part of writing End Scene was portraying Jonah as a man living in two different states—the hopeful dreamer of his youth and the battle-weary man of his older years. I hope I did both versions justice.

I would like to thank Diana, Suzy, and Sarah for being a priceless part of my process, and a big shout-out to the wonderful people on Instagram who work hard to promote and shine a light on new authors (you know who you are).

If you enjoyed my work, feel free to follow me on Instagram or Facebook to hear more about upcoming releases. You can also check out my little website and sign up for the newsletter.

Thank you for letting me into your busy reading schedule,

A.V. Shener.