Indigo Sky

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

I didn’t remember falling asleep on Nate’s couch, but I woke up to the living room shrouded in darkness and the shower running in the bathroom.

What time is it? I reached for my phone. It was nine o’clock at night. I didn’t know how long I’d been out, but it was too long. I imagined the entire club was pissed at me. I imagined they were all spreading the tale of what’d transpired between Kate and me. Saul would be calling at any minute, and he’d be out for blood.

“We don't want them hurt, and we don't hurt them. We hurt the people who hurt them. Do I make myself clear?”

I had hurt her.

I had broken her heart … and there was still someone out there, following. Watching. And who the fuck knew how far they’d go? And now, I wasn’t around to save her.

“Fucking jackass,” I said aloud, laying a hand over my brow.

The shower turned off. My stomach growled, and I went to the kitchen to find something to shove down my throat.

Nate stepped into the living room, a towel around his waist. “Oh, hey, you’re up.”

“Yeah,” I muttered, opening the fridge and peering inside.

Some leftover Chinese. A pack of cold cuts. A carton of eggs. A container of milk.

“I need to get to the grocery store,” he said over my shoulder. “You wanna order a pizza?”

I closed the fridge and looked at him. “You haven’t eaten yet?”

“Nah, I was waiting for you to wake up. Figured you’d be hungry.”

I stared at him like I was trying to figure him out, put his pieces together. He looked vaguely like the guy I had known. Sounded like him too. But this man standing in front of me wasn’t the same boy I had grown up with. The one filled with rage and hatred. The one who had gotten himself in trouble as an act of revenge, to have fun.

No, this guy was thoughtful. He was a lot calmer, a lot more compassionate. It wasn’t an unwelcome change, but it was like whiplash to stand here with him and adjust to this new Nate.

“What?” he asked with a chuckle.

“I just don’t understand what happened to you,” I admitted, bewildered and … happy.

“I already told you. A good doctor and a better woman,” he said easily before walking past me and toward his bedroom door. “I’m gonna throw some clothes on. Then, we’ll order some food.”

“Yeah, sure,” I muttered, watching his back as he disappeared through the door.

***

We sat at the same small table we had shared when we lived together with an open pizza box between us. I’d sort of thought he would’ve gotten some new furniture to accommodate his new life with Crystal and her son, but so far, I couldn’t find any evidence of that.

Nate brought the topic up himself.

“I’m moving out of here soon,” he said, grabbing his second slice of meat lovers and extra cheese.

“You’re gonna live with Crystal?”

He seemed to study the slice, drowning his thoughts in the melted mozzarella, when he said, “Her name is Cassie.”

“Cassie,” I repeated, picturing the small blonde with a loud voice and fondness for cowgirl boots.

“She’s been living with her mom since Jagger was born. Even through … a lot of bad relationships with guys that …” He burst with a laugh and shook his head. “Honestly, I was gonna say they were worse than me, but that’s probably not true. Back then …”

Shame touched his cheeks, and he shook his head. “Anyway, my lease is almost up on this place, and even though she could move in here and Jagger could take your old room, we wanted something … new, you know.”

“I get that.”

“So, we’re renting this little house in Bay River. Two bedrooms, two bathrooms. Nice living room, kitchen, a whole-ass dining room. And there’s a backyard with a playground and everything.”

He took a bite, but even his chewing couldn’t contain the smile tugging at his lips.

“That’s awesome, man,” I said, reaching into the box for a slice. “Honestly, I’m happy for you. You …”

“Don’t say I deserve it.”

The pizza lingered between my mouth and the box as I lifted my gaze to his. “All right, I won’t.”

“I should be in prison,” he muttered, then took a bite of his pizza. “Hell, I should be fuckin’ dead .”

I didn’t respond right away because he wasn’t wrong. For all intents and purposes, the chance of Nate getting his own happy ending was slim to none, considering the way he’d been living his life before.

A swift, odd sense of jealousy hit me then. Because how was it fair that Nate Manning could find himself on the other side of his shit, but I was still somehow taking responsibility for it? When had he ever paid for his own actions? Sure, he’d been arrested a few times, but apart from a few overnights in a holding cell and a couple of sizable fines, he hadn’t truly suffered any consequences.

Then, I remembered what he’d told me. What his mother and her boyfriend had put him through. The trauma. The pain. The lifelong sentence of living with those memories. And I thought, I think he’s suffered enough .

“Hey, so did you ever look into that guy?”

“Which one?” I asked, shoving those thoughts of jealousy and resentment into a dusty drawer to be buried and hopefully forgotten.

“Kate’s old stalker,” he said. “The guy who did time.”

I shook my head. “She said she already did and that it wasn’t him. The guy’s living down south with his mom.”

Nate grumbled a thoughtful sound, then asked, “But does it hurt to look anyway?”

“I mean—"

From the couch, my phone began to ring. The shrill chime seemed to echo through the apartment. I let it ring and go to voice mail. It was probably my parents or—God help me—Saul. I didn’t feel like speaking to either of them right now, and I’d call them back later.

When the ringing stopped, I looked back at Nate and opened my mouth to speak, only for the chime to begin again. It seemed even louder this time, like it was saying, Answer me now, motherfucker.

I groaned and shoved the chair out to stand. I stalked toward the phone and snatched it from the couch, and just as I’d expected, it was Saul.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I repeated, gripping the offending device in my hand. “He’s gonna kill me.”

Nate only shrugged, his face telling me I should just get it over with, and I groaned loudly before answering the call.

“Hey, Saul.”

“Is she with you?”

“Kate?”

“No, Princess Diana,” he deadpanned. “Of course I’m talking about Kate. Is she with you ?”

I looked around the living room, as if, by saying her name, I’d manifested her into the space. But I hadn’t, and the undertone of alarm in Saul’s voice sent my heart racing at a rate that should’ve left me dead on the spot.

“No,” I answered. “She’s not here.”

“Where the fuck are you, Revan?”

“I’m at a friend’s place.”

“Why aren’t you here ?”

I swallowed. He didn’t know what had happened. He didn’t know that Kate and I had broken up. He didn’t know—well, he didn’t know anything from the sound of it. And I wasn’t sure right now was the time to divulge when we had a more pressing issue.

“When did you last talk to Kate?” I asked, turning back to the kitchen and seeing Nate focusing his attention on his phone.

“She called me this morning,” he replied quickly. “Don’t change the subject. Why aren’t you—"

“You haven’t heard from her since then? And she didn’t show up for work?”

I pulled the phone from my ear to check the time. It was after ten at night. The club had been open for over two hours. And Kate never skipped work if she could help it.

Howard, was the first thought to cross my mind.

Had something happened to her father? My heart ached at the thought that the old man could’ve died in his sleep while she and I were … fighting? Breaking up?

Could her heart survive that?

I sank onto the couch and held my head in the palm of my hand.

“What did she say?” I asked when he didn’t answer right away. “Was she okay?”

“I should be asking you that, asshole.”

The tension and brashness in his tone told me he knew something . More than he was letting on. I sighed. I wasn’t getting into this now.

“What did she say ?”

He huffed into the phone. “She said you two got into a fight, and she was going to pick up her car before going to Crystal’s place for the day before work.”

“Okay,” I said, standing abruptly. “This is good.”

“Is it?” he said with a snort.

I nodded as I walked toward Nate. “Did Crystal—"

“She’s not working tonight, but if you’re going to ask if Kate got to her house, I don’t know. I tried calling, but she was taking Jagger to the movies with her boyfriend.”

I narrowed my eye at Nate. “Huh. Okay. I’ll call you back.”

I hung up before Saul could reply, and I asked Nate, “You were supposed to be at the movies with Crys—Cassie?”

He looked up from his phone and nodded. “I told her I couldn’t make it. I didn’t wanna leave you alone when …” He shrugged, not wanting to finish the sentence, but I understood, and I appreciated it.

“Can you get in touch with her now?”

“I already did.” He held his phone up. “Kate never showed up.”

A thousand obscenities flew through my brain as I turned, shaking my head. Every worst-case scenario was there, playing before my eye, blinding my view of the apartment.

“Listen,” Nate said, his voice serious. Grave. “I looked up that guy, Jason Peters. Cass gave me his name.”

I turned back to him to find him tapping across his phone.

“I agree with you. I don’t think he’s the guy we should be looking for. But look at this.”

He held his phone out to me, and I took it. There was an article, a headline written in bold font— Man Accused of Stalking Exotic Dancer Claims Innocence . My brow furrowed, my head tipped, as I took the phone and scrolled through the article, skimming the words.

“ Jason had been at the club ,” I muttered, reading aloud in broken sentences. “ Pursued the dancer who wasn’t interested … his behavior became volatile … kicked out of the club … accused of stalking her outside of the club, breaking into her home … insists he was wrongly accused .”

I looked up, about to speak, but Nate wagged his finger at the phone.

“Keep scrolling. I don’t think the guy did it, man. I mean, maybe he went to the club and acted like an asshole, but the rest of it …” He looked doubtful. “Just look at his picture.”

I did as he’d said and found the photograph of Jason Peters. A mugshot. Dark hair. Heavy, sunken eyes. An angular, gaunt face that belonged in a Tim Burton movie.

My heart pounded in my ears. My hand began to tremble and sweat.

Nate waited a moment for me, allowing time for realization to sink in. Then, he asked, “Look like anyone we know?”

“It’s a coincidence,” I insisted, shaking my head. “I mean, yeah, it’s weird, but—"

Her dad knew Roy. She knew …

"Donny." I uttered his name, then swallowed and threw the phone onto the table. “She went to pick up her car,” I said, my voice quaking and higher-pitched. “Holy fuck , Nate! She went to pick up her car !”

He was already standing, tossing the rest of his pizza into the box. He grabbed his keys from the counter and headed toward the door while declaring, "I'll drive."

***

We drove in near silence until we got to Roy's shop. Kate's car was still parked outside … and so was Donny's truck. Exactly where I'd left them that morning.

A sickening, sinking feeling of dread wrapped its cold, gangly, dead fingers around my gut and squeezed. I wanted to puke, and my lips trembled around the need to heave.

"I have to tell you something," Nate said as he killed the headlights and pulled into the parking lot, stopping in the blanket of shadows.

" Now ?" I hissed, envisioning every depraved thing Donny might be doing right now.

Maybe she's already dead.

Shut up.

He's had all day, and she's still here .

"Yeah, just in case." He reached across the car for the glove compartment, opened the hatch, and dug around until he found a black drawstring bag. "Do you remember that night when my mom's house went up in flames?"

He pulled the bag open and unveiled a black handgun, gleaming in the moonlight.

"Yeah," I muttered, my eye transfixed on the gun.

Nate had had a gun once before. The airsoft gun, the one he'd used to threaten Roy's old buddy—what was his name? Fuck, I couldn’t remember, but he was the one who'd gotten me fired.

Anyway, that gun wasn't like this one.

This one was real.

This one could kill.

Nate sniffed, checked the chamber, made sure it was loaded—it was—and clicked it shut. He moved like he knew what he was doing, like someone who had done this before, and when he followed my gaze, he huffed a chuckle.

"Don't worry. It's legal."

"Oh, that makes me feel a lot better," I deadpanned while my brain lingered somewhere inside the shop, wherever Kate was. Alive. Hurt. Dead.

God, please don't let her be dead. Even if she's hurt, even if she's scared, just don't let her be dead.

"That night was the first time Jim raped me," Nate said, turning to look at me.

He hadn't said that word before. Rape . He hadn’t been able to. But he said it now without hesitation, so matter-of-fact, and that sick, nauseated feeling lurched and swelled. And with it came a deep, untouchable sadness for my friend. My brother .

"He raped me, Rev. He had done shit before … beaten me, made me do shit to him … did shit to me … but he fucking raped me that night. And I felt like … I could live with all that other shit, but … I couldn't live with that. Anything but that. I couldn’t go through that again."

"So, you set the house on fire," I said so he didn't have to.

"Yep." He nodded, and the moonlight reflected off the tears brimming in his eyes, blackened from his broken, swollen nose.

Just like that, this car had become his confessional. If we were going to walk in there together, if we were going to die— I don't want to die —his last horrible secret was out there, shouldered by someone else. Me. His brother.

I was glad to carry the weight.

"It's okay," I told him because it was. "You did what you had to do."

He huffed a bitter laugh and shook his head. "I killed my mother, and you say it's okay."

"Yeah, well … fuck her. Fuck both of them."

He met my eye and barely nodded. "Yeah," he whispered into the dark as one rogue tear fell from his eye. "Fuck them."

Then, he cleared his throat, wiped the back of his hand over that tear, and gripped my shoulder, the gun in his other hand. "Call the cops," he instructed me. "Then, we're going in there, and we're rescuing your woman."

I tightened my grip around my phone as I said, "You're assuming she's still alive," putting words to the dread coalescing with my blood.

"I'm choosing to believe she is," he replied. "Now, come on, Captain. Let's take back what's yours."

I dialed 911 while Nate got out of the car and tried the front door of the shop.

The operator asked for my emergency, and all I could say, in a calm voice that surprised me, was, "I think someone is holding my girlfriend against her will. Send someone over, please ."

I gave them the address and told them to hurry. I left the phone on the dashboard to keep them on the line, to track my phone's signal if they needed to, and I got out of the car.

Nate met me outside, and we crouched together in the dark. He wagged a finger at the front door and shook his head. It was locked. He redirected that finger at me, then pointed at the side door.

"You go through there," he commanded in a voice I barely heard. "Take the gun."

I shook my head and hissed, "I don't even know how to use that thing."

"It's not that hard. You point it at him and pull the trigger."

I blew out a trembling breath. I didn't want to take the damn thing, but I took it anyway. "What are you gonna do?"

"There's another gun in the office," he whispered. "I'm heading there, praying to fuckin' God Donny didn't get to it first. But, listen, keep your head down and keep quiet."

"You too."

He reached out, gripped the back of my neck, and said, "I love you, brother."

My throat felt thick and choked as my eye met his. Jesus, fuck, don't die . "I love you too."

"All right. Go. Through that door. Should be open. Quiet , Revan. Like a fuckin' mouse." Then, hunched over, he hurried away, his boots softly crunching over the gravel.

Quiet, Revan.

I blew out a heavy breath and imagined every mystery and suspense movie I'd ever seen. I gripped the gun in both hands and crept forward, keeping my head down and out of the light as I reached the side door. As Nate had suspected, it was unlocked, but I liked that less than my easy entry.

He knows I'm coming.

But would he count on Nate being with me? I doubted it. As far as Donny was concerned, Nate's and my friendship was over. He'd seen the murderous look in my eye, and he'd known where I was heading, but he didn't know what had transpired between us.

I stepped into the shop, careful to not let the door slam shut behind me. Everywhere I looked was darkness. I knelt beside the door, out of the light shining through the window, and I listened. The refrigerator in the break room whirred, the clock in the waiting area ticked, and somewhere, farther in the shop, came the tinny, crackling sound of Roy's old speaker.

" Oh my darlin', oh my darlin', oh my darlin' Clementine …"

The whistling in my dreams. That tune. Fuck.

I had known I knew the song. I had heard it almost constantly while working under Roy's weathered gaze.

God, what the hell, Donny?

What the fuck happened to you?

Logic told me to follow the music, that I'd find what I was looking for wherever it came from, but that horrible dread told me to run, to wait for the cops, to wait for someone who was better equipped for something like this.

But I’d promised Kate. I had sworn I'd protect her. I had sworn I wouldn't let anything happen to her. I had to show her I was a man of my word. I had to try, or I wouldn't forgive myself.

“I would cease to fucking exist if I let something happen to you.”

It had been a little overly dramatic at the time, but now, faced with the possibility, I wasn’t sure how I’d go on. How I’d live with the guilt, the pain.

Stop thinking about it and go.

I pushed forward, tiptoeing over the linoleum floor I hadn’t seen in years. Keeping my eye on the shadows, waiting for any shifts or changes in the darkness and light.

I came to the break room. The door was closed, and I pressed my ear to the steel. If someone was breathing inside, they didn’t make themselves known. I tried the knob, felt it give beneath my palm, and turned. I pushed it open and swung the gun inside, but the room was empty.

Shit .

“Nate! Hey, man,” I heard Donny say from somewhere in the shop.

“The hell are you doing, sitting alone in the office? In the fuckin’ dark?”

The office. He was in the office. Kate wasn’t with him. She was somewhere else.

“Didn’t sleep much last night,” Donny replied sheepishly. “I just closed my eyes for a couple of minutes, and then—hey, what time is it?”

Nate was quiet for a second, then said, “It’s almost eleven thirty, bro.”

I ran quickly through the other places she could be. There was a car on the lift. She could be in the trunk, in the back seat. There was a small cellar—about ten-by-ten feet, used for storage—a cleaning closet, and a shed out back.

“Wow, shit, I gotta get going,” Donny said, followed by a loud yawn. “What the hell happened to you, by the way? You look like shit.”

Nate huffed a laugh. “Fuckin’ Revan, man. Psycho attacked me out of fuckin’ nowhere today.”

“Ah, yeah, he was here this morning. Looked like he was gonna kill you. He’s finally lost his mind, I guess. Well, anyway, I’m outta here.”

I nodded to myself and snuck around the garage to the broom closet. The door was open, and it was empty.

Fuck .

“Whatcha got going on tonight?” Nate asked.

Footsteps approached, and I hurried to the other side of the building, back to the waiting room, as Nate and Donny entered the garage.

“I have some shit to take care of,” Donny said with a sickening amount of indifference.

Fuck, Kate, where are you?

I glanced out the window and saw Donny’s pickup. He had pulled into his usual spot before, but now, he had backed in, the bed closest to the door. It was concealed by a retractable cover—had it been like that before?

Fuck, fuck, fuck , I chanted as I hurried toward the side door where I’d come in.

“Anything I can help—"

I didn’t hear what else Nate had to say, whatever he was doing to keep Donny occupied, as I slipped through the door and hurried around the front of the building to Donny’s truck. I glanced at the garage doors, made sure I couldn’t see Donny through the windows, then listened and heard … nothing .

“ Kate ,” I whispered as loudly as I could without drawing attention to myself. “Kate, if you—"

A slew of muffled cries came from … somewhere. I looked around, focusing on my surroundings, trying to pinpoint where the sounds were coming from, only to reach the conclusion that …

Her car .

I scrambled to crouch beside her sedan, listening to wherever Donny might be. Nate was keeping him distracted—I hoped. He was keeping him inside long enough …

A scream erupted from inside the trunk of her car. “Revan! Oh God, Rev—"

“Shh,” I hushed loudly. “Kate, listen to me. You—"

“I-i-it’s Donny. D-Donny … oh God … h-h-he—"

“Sweetheart, you need to be quiet, okay?”

She sobbed, her breath coming out in shallow, shuddered gasps. “Okay, okay, okay,” she whispered repeatedly, exasperated.

She was going to work herself up to hyperventilation. She needed to calm down. She needed to—

“I really need to get going, man,” Donny said from the side of the building. He was outside. “Got a long night ahead of me.”

“Ah shit.” Nate’s voice.

“What?” Donny sounded impatient, exasperated.

Careful, Nate. God, please be fucking careful.

“My keys. I left them in the office. Can you—"

“Yeah,” Donny grumbled. “Sure.”

A few seconds. We had a few seconds.

“Kate, there’s a latch—"

“M-my hands a-a-are tied. I-I-I can’t—"

“You have to try, okay? Look for a latch or a cable. Pull it. Whatever you find, pull .”

“Thanks, man. You can get out of here. I’m good,” Nate said.

I froze, expecting footsteps to come toward me at any second.

“Rev—"

“ Shh ,” I shushed her, pressing my finger to my lips as if she could see me.

“Nah, I’ll come inside with you,” Donny said, his voice now suspicious and wary.

He was onto something. He was onto Nate. Did he know I was here?

I didn’t think so. He’d be more proactive. No, his concern was Nate. Nate finding something. Nate … what? What was he afraid of Nate seeing?

Don’t think about that.

“Kate,” I whispered, my voice barely sounding like my own, “did you find—"

“I can’t,” she replied, shrill and panicked. “I-I don’t feel anything . I can- can’t .”

I looked around, my eye on the ground. “Okay,” I whispered. “Okay, hold on. Let me … let me think …”

I needed something to pry the trunk open. Inside the shop, there were more than enough tools to get the job done, but out here, I seemed to be left to whatever was on me. Which wasn’t much, apart from the gun and my wallet.

Fuck, where are the cops?

I crawled around the car and tried the door, thinking there might be something inside to help, but the car was locked. Donny had the keys, I assumed.

“Goddammit,” I whispered, knowing I was running out of time.

But maybe the cops would get here before he could leave. Maybe—

“All right, for real this time, I’m out of here,” Donny said, and then came the sound of crunching gravel.

“Okay, dude. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I hurried to the side of the building without a second to spare. Donny unlocked Kate’s car with the fob and got into the front seat. I listened to her scream as he started the engine. I prayed and prayed she wouldn’t say my name and give me away, and she didn’t.

Good girl.

Donny peeled off toward the road, and I hurried around the back of the building to Nate’s car.

“Motherfucker nust have the gun. And—wait, he didn’t take his car,” Nate said, confused. “Why—"

“Kate’s in the trunk,” I said hurriedly, struggling to hold on to my sanity. “She’s in the fucking trunk .”

“Of her car?”

“Yes!” I pulled the driver’s door open. “Give me the keys. We have to go.”

“But the cops—"

“They don’t know where to go, Nathan! But we can follow. Look at my phone. See if they’re still on the line.”

Nate got into the car as I did and tossed the keys my way. As I tore out of the parking lot, my lead foot weighing down on the pedal, I caught his reluctant smirk. One that looked almost like pride.

“The fuck are you looking at me like that for?”

“Nothin’. Just drive faster.”

***

I caught up to Donny but kept what I assumed was a safe distance. It was easy enough to blend in on the highway he’d turned onto, but after ten minutes, he turned off toward the suburbs.

“Where the hell is he going?” Nate asked, holding my phone in his hand.

At some point, the battery had died, losing the connection with the 911 operator. I tried not to think about it now or the fact that Nate’s phone was also dead and useless—the bastard could never keep that thing charged. If I let myself think about it, the terror of knowing there was no help coming would consume me and get in the way of what I needed to do.

And that was save Kathleen McLaughlin, Indigo Sky … Kate .

“I don’t know,” I answered Nate as Donny rolled up to a Stop sign in the near distance.

Wherever he was headed, he didn’t seem to be in a hurry. Not wanting to grab any unwanted attention, I figured.

But then I started to recognize my surroundings. The houses looked familiar, then the buildings. And soon, Donny was pulling up to the gated community Kate called home.

“Fuck,” I muttered, stopping the car far enough away to keep his suspicions lowered.

“What?” Nate asked, watching as Donny stalled for a moment.

“Her dad—"

Donny opened the car door. In his hand was a gun, not unlike the one in Nate’s. He popped the trunk and hurried to round the car. I tensed behind the wheel, my heart pounding louder than a time bomb as Kate’s long legs kicked out and a scream ripped through her throat.

Fight, sweetheart. Fucking scream , I sent out to her, doubtful she’d hear me.

Donny remained calm and reinserted the gag that she had worked out of her mouth. He pulled her close and said something to her—too low for us to hear with the windows open—and he wrenched her away from the trunk. She spat in his face, and he whipped her across the cheek with the gun, then dragged her by the hair to the keypad.

I jolted behind the wheel, ready to run.

Nate’s grip was on my arm. “Easy,” he said as my jaw locked and my teeth ground and my hands held so tightly to the wheel that my knuckles cracked.

“I’m going to kill him,” I said through my clenched teeth, hardly able to believe I was still sitting in that car.

“That’s fine,” Nate said. “But you can’t kill him right now. He’s got a gun pointed at her. If you run up there right this second, that’ll be it,” he warned.

He was right. Fuck , I knew he was, but desperation warred with logic as I watched Donny force Kate to punch in the code to raise the gate to her father’s home.

He shoved her into the open driver’s side and made her climb over to the passenger seat as he got in, and then they drove in, the gate dropping behind them.

Not only was Kate unsafe, but Howard and Angela would be too.

My brain kicked into overdrive, putting the pieces together as I gnawed on my bottom lip.

Nate asked me what I wanted to do.

“Hold on,” I said, putting up a staying hand.

I looked at the fence surrounding the community. It wasn’t very high, maybe six feet. Stone. I could climb it and drop to the other side. A sign warned that trespassing would trigger the alarm, calling the police. But that was exactly what we wanted.

Every one of these units had a back door leading to a small yard of land. There were no fences separating the little plots of land from each other. It was all open, one unit blending into the next. I could run across the back, maybe go undetected, and get into Kate’s house through the back door.

It seemed like a plan, more of one than I’d had moments ago, and I turned to Nate and told him what I was going to do.

“And what do you want me to do?” he asked.

“Go home.”

He barked a laugh. “Fat fuckin’ chance. I’m not leaving you alone to do this shit yourself.”

“Yes, you are,” I argued.

“Nope. I’m not leaving you. We’re brothers, Rev. Brothers don’t abandon each other. They might … grow apart for a while or—I dunno—need space, but we don’t leave . And I’m not fuckin’ leaving.”

“You’re a stubborn asshole—you know that?”

He slugged me in the shoulder. “Yeah, but you need me. Now, tell me what to do.”

I swallowed, full of premature regret and guilt. “Distract Donny.”

He grinned, his eyes wild and mischievous. “Aye, aye, Captain.”

“Take the gun,” I demanded.

“Nah, you take it. I have a crowbar in the trunk. I’ll take that.”

“No. I’ll take the crowbar. I don’t want you walking into a fuckin’ gun fight without a gun.”

He rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

So, I gave him the code to get into the community, and I climbed out of the car as he got behind the wheel. He extended his hand, grasped mine, and held tight. “I love you, Rev.”

It was the second time tonight that he had said it. I thought about rolling my eye, thought about telling him to shut the hell up and to get out of here before we wasted any more time, but I stopped myself.

“I love you too.”

“All right. Get the fuck out of here. I’ll see you on the other side of this shit.”

I took off running for the fence as he drove forward. There was a decorative boulder, one I wasn’t sure would hold my weight, but I used it to give me a leg up and jumped the fence, falling to the grassy ground with a thud. I watched for a moment as Nate stopped at the gate, and I waited to see if he remembered the code. When the gate lifted and he drove through, I took off running again. Avoiding the lampposts but appreciating the light they shed over the dark grounds, dodging barbecues and lawn chairs and Belgian blocks until I reached the row of townhomes where I knew Kate's house was.

At first, I worried I wouldn't know which one was hers from the rear. These units were less discernable from the back than they were from the front. Every one looked identical without the house number or the odd bird feeder to give it away.

But I found it anyway.

All I had to do was follow her screams.

I hated the sound. Hated how she cried. But she was alive . That was all I told myself. She was still alive, and as long as she could scream, there was hope.

I tiptoed between the shadows as I approached the back door. There was a lantern beside the kitchen window that threatened to give me away had anyone pulled back the curtain, so I held tight to my crowbar and swung it as hard as I could. The sounds of the busting glass and the popping bulb, of the iron crashing against the brass fixture, rang through the night, and just as the light blinked off, I ducked, hiding behind a bush, and waited.

And I guessed the sound could've alerted Donny. He might've come to the back door, could've looked outside, searched for a minute, and found me behind this shrub that did little to conceal my identity.

All of that might've happened … had Nate not made his presence known at that exact time. Almost as if we'd timed it perfectly … but we hadn't. It was pure, dumb luck. Some might even call it fate.

"The hell is going on, Donny?" Nate asked from deeper in the house.

"How the fuck …" Donny was stunned.

Kate cried, "Nate! Oh my God, Nate! Help us, help—no, no, stop!"

She screamed; another scream joined hers.

Angela .

"Shut up! Shut up! Everybody, fucking shut up!" Donny shouted.

I couldn't wait any longer. I stood, my back hunched, and quietly went to the back door and tried the knob. Locked.

"Fuck," I hissed. "Fuck, fuck, fuck …"

"Donny, look at me. Look at me, all right? There you go. Keep looking at me. Put down the fuckin' gun, man, okay? What the hell is going on, huh?" Nate asked, his voice tense but steady.

"Isn't it fucking obvious?!"

"No, man, it really isn't. Why don’t you explain it to me? Let's sit down. Put the gun down—"

"Don't you fucking tell me what to do! You cocky motherfucking asshole! All you do is tell me what to do! All anyone ever does is tell me what to fucking do!"

As Donny screamed, I gritted my teeth and took the moment to swing the crowbar at the back-door window. Broken glass scattered everywhere, and I hurried to duck behind the bush.

"That's what this is about?" Nate asked. "You're looking for, what? Control? A power trip or something?"

"I'm taking what's fucking mine—that's what I'm fucking doing!"

I blew out a quivering breath and tiptoed back to the door, crunching over glass shards and reaching through the broken window to unlock the door. I turned the knob, quietly swung the door open, and blew out a breath from my aching lungs.

"What in this room is yours, Donny? You're fuckin' terrorizing these people who did nothing to you—"

"Nothing?! Nothing! Let me tell you what nothing they've done, Nathan. This bitch! This bitch and her father! They stole from me! She lied to me!"

I squeezed my eye shut, inhaled deeply, and emptied my lungs before walking into the kitchen, lit only by the night light above the stove. From where I stood, I saw Howard and Angela, sitting in chairs from the kitchen, their hands tied in their laps, their ankles tied to the chair legs, and their mouths taped shut. There were moving shadows, darkening the horror on their faces. Donny. Nate maybe.

Where's Kate?

I took solace in knowing Donny hadn't killed anyone. They were all alive. But there was the silhouette of a gun shadowed on the wall, held in his waving hand. He was a loose cannon, and one of us—Nate or me—had to act now before he exploded.

When are the cops getting here?

"How did she lie to you, Donny?" Nate asked as I walked quietly toward the open doorway and pressed my back to the wall beside it.

Angela shifted her gaze, catching sight of me standing only three or four feet from where she sat. Her eyes barely widened with recognition, and I immediately pressed a finger to my lips. She diverted her attention once again to her bound hands resting in her lap, avoiding the eyes of the crazed man before her.

“She told me she wanted me! She always said she wanted me!”

“W-w-wha-what?” Kate stammered through tears.

She’s alive, she’s alive, she’s alive …

“Oh, don’t you play fuckin’ stupid with me, you goddamn whore,” Donny growled, low and menacing. “You were always telling me how we were gonna be together. Oh, Donny, we’re going to get married. We’re going to have babies ,” he mocked in a high-pitched tone.

“Donny,” Kate whispered, so meek and small, “w-w-w-we were kids— "

Donny’s shadow moved fast, and Angela jolted. I took a chance and peeked around the wall to find him leaning over Kate, his back to me. Nate was standing near the door, the gun raised. He met my eye.

Shoot him , I mouthed, but Nate held up a finger, signaling for me to wait.

Wait? Wait for what?!

“You promised me! You fucking promised me, you cunt! Just like your mother promised my dad! All of you—you’re all full of fucking promises, and you break every”—he hit Kate in the shoulder with the butt of his gun—“single”—again—“one!”

“Stop! P-p-please! Stop!” she screamed.

“Just like this asshole.” His attention turned to Howard, and I quickly hid behind the wall again, pressing my back against it. “Promised he’d get out of the business after his wife—his sweet Patty —fucked my dad, that he’d sign it over. But you didn’t, did you, you piece of shit? You wanted to keep the fuckin’ money for yourself and your little slut . Look at me. Look at me!”

There was another open doorway on the other side of the kitchen with a clear view of the hallway. I quietly moved in that direction as Donny stalked closer to where Howard sat, silent and shaking.

“What? You got nothing to say to me, asshole? You had a lot to say to my father though, didn’t you?”

From the doorway, I could see Kate, bloodied and clothes torn. I couldn’t think about why. I couldn’t think about what had happened to her. I could only focus on how she shook, how her eyes were wide and aimed at Donny as he waved his gun around in front of her elderly father and his nurse.

“Hey,” I whispered so low that I feared she wouldn’t hear me, but—oh, thank God—she did.

Her head shifted, her big, tear-filled eyes rounding at the sight of me. Her mouth fell open like she wanted to say something, but I held up my hand, stopping her, and shook my head.

“I’m here,” I whispered. “It’s gonna be—"

“What was it you said that one time, Howard? Oh, that’s right. Don’t give anything to Donny. Donny’s got a short fuse. Donny’s one bad day from going insane. Donny, Donny, Donny! ” He pressed the barrel of the gun to Howard’s forehead.

“Donny!” Nate roared, trying to get his attention, trying to get through. “Knock it the fuck off! Look at me, you psycho son of a bitch! Look at me !”

Kate turned her attention from me to her father and screamed, “No! No, please !”

“Sweetheart,” I whispered, my voice and hands and lips shaking uncontrollably. “Kate, look at me. Look at me, okay?”

She turned reluctantly, her sobs escalating, her tears endless. She looked up and held her eyes to mine as she shook her head, repeating that one word over and over. “No, no, no …”

“Just look at me,” I whispered. “Keep looking at me.”

“How’s this for a short fuse?!”

Nate raised the gun in his hand. “I will fucking shoot you, Donny! I swear to God, I will blow your fucking head off right now! Get the hell—"

BANG!

A blast of blood hit the wall behind Howard McLaughlin’s head, and the old man cried out behind the tape over his mouth, his eyes squeezing shut as the lifeless body of his nurse slumped to the side.

Kate screamed again and again, pressing her eyes shut and curling her body in on itself.

“Don’t look, baby,” I said, my eye lifting to Nate’s and the tears that had begun to stream down his cheeks. “Don’t look.”

Donny spun around, his crazed stare meeting Nate’s horrified expression. “What was that?”

Nate shook his head, his movements erratic. “N-nothing. It was me, Donny. It was—"

“It came from over here.” Donny crossed the living room. “You bring backup, Nate? Who is it, huh? That one-eyed whore-fucker?”

I scrambled backward on my ass out of the doorway, out of his view, my boots slipping against the tiled floor.

“No!” Kate screamed as Donny raised the gun again. “No! Rev—"

“Hey, Donny!” Nate tried to grab his attention.

I couldn’t see. I didn’t know what was happening. My chest heaved. I gulped for air. I prayed the cops were on their way.

“Donny!” Nate roared. “Think fast, asshole!”

BANG!

My ears rang from the blast of another gunshot, and I sat still, waiting. Listening.

Then, Kate began to choke on a mix of sobs and screams.

Someone else began to groan.

“Oh, too bad,” Donny said, and my lips parted with a stifled, strangled cry as I hurried to stand, tripping over my feet in the process.

Nate. Nate-Nate-Nate.

“I guess you were too slow,” Donny said, and as I reached the doorway, I watched him lean over Nate’s crumpled body, choking for air. “But oh well. You were next anyway.”

I moved past Kate, raised the crowbar over my head. Blood bubbled from Nate’s mouth as his eyes met mine.

“Hey, Donny,” I gritted out from between my clenched teeth.

I didn’t let him respond before bringing the crowbar down on his head.

Somewhere, I heard someone screaming.

I thought it might’ve been me.

Donny went down heavily with that first blow. Sirens sounded as I brought the crowbar down on his head again, again, again, until my arms tired and my legs stumbled.

Then, I collapsed beside Nate and pressed my hands to the sides of his face.

“I’m fine, asshole,” he whispered. “Don’t be a dick. Go rescue your princess.”

“You’re not fine,” I choked, my throat constricting. “God, Nate, there’s so much …” Blood . It was blood, and it was everywhere, but I couldn’t bring myself to say it.

“Listen. The cops are here. They’re gonna take care of me,” he said. “What the hell are you gonna do, huh? You a doctor now?”

I stared into his eyes, holding his gaze. A thousand things I wanted to say raced through my mind, every one of them fighting to be said first— pick me, pick me —but all I could say was, “Don’t you fucking die, Nate.”

He laughed, and my stomach lurched into my throat at the sight of the blood bubbling past his teeth.

“Only the good die young, dude,” he choked. “And there ain’t anything good about me.”

I stared for a few seconds longer, grasped his hand in mine, then squeezed wordlessly. Kate’s whispered cries behind me broke through the rush of panic and sadness and dread in my heart, and I tore myself from Nate’s side to go to her.

“Hey, hey, hey,” I whispered. “I got you.”

She looked at me, eyes searching my face. “Y-you looked for me. You found me.”

“Of course I did.” I ran a gentle hand over her shoulder, where Donny had hit her with his gun. “What hurts?”

She huffed a begrudged laugh. “Everything.”

I winced, guilt warring with gratitude for her life. “Help is coming. You’re gonna be okay.”

She offered a weak smile before raising her eyes. “Daddy …”

“I got him.”

I got to my feet and glanced at Nate to find his eyes closed. But his chest was rising, falling, and I held on to that as the cops and paramedics rushed to the open door.

“Hello, sir,” I said, crouching in front of Howard to peel the tape off his lips and untie his hands. “Howard, are you hurt?”

His eyes were wide, Angela’s splattered blood on his cheek and over his lips. I used the sleeve of my shirt to try and wipe it away, but it had begun to dry.

It was fine—it had to be.

“N-n-no,” he replied, shaking his head. “Not … not hurt, n-no.”

“Good. That’s good. The police are coming. Everything’s going to be fine.”

The living room filled with voices as a menagerie of uniformed people flooded in.

I turned and pointed at Nate. “That man—his name is Nate, Nathan Manning—he was shot. He needs help right now.”

The cops and paramedics acknowledged me with nods as one—cop or paramedic, I couldn’t be sure—said, “Who was the shooter?”

I pointed at Donny’s lifeless body.

One cop stepped over Donny to crouch beside his head, oozing with blood already coagulating. “What the hell happened here?”

I opened my mouth to respond, but my eye landed on Kate as a paramedic helped her onto a stretcher. “Kate? Kate ! Where are they taking her?”

“They need to look her over. She’s very hurt and very much in shock,” the cop who had looked at Donny said, now walking toward Howard and me. “What’s your name, sir?”

His eyes finally took notice of Angela’s body, and he breathed out a sound close to a groan.

“This is Howard McLaughlin,” I said. “I don’t know if he’s been injured, but he has Alzheimer’s, and he—"

The cop knelt beside me and helped to untie Howard’s ankles. “All right, Howard. My name is Officer Matt Payton. I’m going to help you out tonight, all right?”

Howard’s startled gaze turned to look at Officer Payton. He barely nodded. “Th-thank you, Officer. Can you tell me if Patricia is all right? I-I haven’t seen her, and I need to know if my Patty—"

I took Howard’s hand in mine. “Patty is fine. She’s okay.”

He released a breath of relief. “Oh, thank goodness. But … Revan …”

The fact that this man remembered my name set my heart into overdrive. “Yeah?”

“What about Kate? Where is my Kate? She … she was here, for just a few seconds … and I …” His brow furrowed with confusion and the desperation to remember. “She was so upset . Oh—oh God , sh-she was so scared, and I couldn’t help her. Revan, you have to save her. You have to—"

His hands were shaking in my grasp and I held them tightly.

“I did,” I told him. “I saved Kate, Howard. She’s going to be okay, I promise.”

Then, he began to cry. Heaving sobs racked his body as Officer Payton helped him to stand, one of us on either side, holding him steady. He leaned against me, his tears soaking my shoulder as he thanked me over and over, repeatedly, until we reached the two ambulances waiting outside.

A paramedic stopped me. “Sir, are you hurt?”

I shook my head, and, fuck, the guilt was so heavy. “No. Where’s Kate?”

“She’s over there,” he said, gesturing toward a third ambulance.

“Is she going to be okay?”

He looked at me, eyes heavy with apology. “She’s had quite a day,” he said. “We’re taking her down to the hospital in just a minute.”

I blew out a breath and nodded. “Can I—"

Officer Payton laid a hand over my shoulder and asked if he could talk to me. “You’re the only one who isn’t hurt or dead,” he said with a gruff, mirthless chuckle.

I looked back at Kate. I didn’t want to let her go; I didn’t want to let her out of my sight ever again. So, I asked, “Can we do this at the hospital?”

He hesitated for a moment, following my gaze, then nodded. “I’ll drive.”