The Guy Next Door

Chapter 32

32

ZANE

A fter Isaac passes out, Leif helps me out of my restraints with my knife, which he’d discovered in Isaac’s jacket pocket with the zip ties. He helps me remove my gag, and then we restrain Isaac.

“The gun?” Leif says, securing a second set of ties around Isaac’s ankles. “Why didn’t it go off?”

I’m on a third zip tie around Isaac’s wrists. “It wasn’t gonna fire. Isaac turned the thumb safety off, like any idiot would think to do. But that was a modification from the guy I bought it from. Isaac didn’t notice the trigger was locked down.”

“What do you mean?”

“I keep the trigger locked down and the safety on so the gun has to be reset before you can fire a round. Guess Dad was right. Only two kinds of men in the world: those who know guns and those who don’t.”

That was an attempt at making light of this wild-ass situation, but Leif doesn’t look amused. Hell, after what just happened, I don’t blame him.

If Isaac had known, we’d both likely—I shouldn’t even think it.

After we call the cops, I tell Leif about the conversation I had with Isaac: How all this was a trap for me. How he bought our ruse, and he’d shown up because he needed to grab me before I checked myself into the psych unit. How he’d planned to kill Leif and frame me for the murder before abducting me. How he killed my brother.

That last part is pure hell.

Adrenaline courses through my veins, my body clearly unconvinced the threat is gone. Or maybe just realizing there’s a different threat now—that the grief of knowing the truth will be too much for me. That I’ll fall into a dark despair knowing that Mike is gone.

The only thing keeping me from losing myself is knowing that I haven’t lost everything, not as long as I still have Leif.

*

When the EMT finishes checking us out, I adjust the blanket around Leif, making sure it’s tight against him.

Between the cops and the paramedics, there’s a lot of business going on around us. We’ve both been interviewed by uniformed officers, some of them asking the same questions, and I’m not sure I’ve answered them the same way each time. The further we get from the incident, the harder it is to hold on to the details.

Placing my arm around Leif, I kiss his cheek.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Overwhelmed and numb. You?”

“About the same.”

He turns to me, inspecting my expression before he reaches over and rests his hand on my cheek.

“What?” I ask.

“Your face. It’s still all red on the sides.”

“It’s fine. It was only tape. At least I’m still alive. And you’re still alive. Those are the only things that matter.”

But judging by his apprehensive expression, I suspect he knows better.

Since now I know Mike isn’t here.

“I’m so sorry, Zane,” he says, not for the first time.

If anyone else said that to me after what I just found out, I’d tell them to go fuck themselves, but I know Leif. Can see how much he cares. How much he wishes he could make this better.

But nothing can.

A tear escapes my eye.

Fuck.

“I’m fine,” I say.

“You don’t have to be.”

“Let’s not talk about it now. There’ll be plenty of time for that later.”

He nods.

I glance around uneasily at all the traffic and sit in the back of the ambulance, then rest my head against his shoulder.

The front door of the house opens, and Detective Roth steps out.

We already spoke to her briefly. She and Detective Berkley arrived during all the commotion. I could see the guilt in her expression straight away, but she kept things professional. Didn’t get into our past.

She approaches the ambulance, and I’m kind of wishing we didn’t have to have this conversation. Not now.

“Hi again, Zane. Do you want me to say you told me so, or would you rather be the one to say it?”

“You kind of already took it from me.”

She smirks, but for less than a second. “I’m sorry about Mike.”

My chin quivers as I fight back the tears. “Did you get anything from him about that?”

She bites her lip and glances around. She can’t share details about the case with me, but she knows she fucking owes me.

“Zane, he’s saying you framed him for this. So we’ll have to wait and see how long that holds up. Berkley did get a warrant to search his home. That’s where he is now, and they discovered a room in his basement. A room where we believe he may have kept…people. But other than that, we’re still trying to sort through this mess.”

That’s where he kept Mike. That’s where he planned to keep me.

I nod. “I hope you’ll keep me posted. If you need to talk to Dman, I found him. He still remembers that note, like the one Leif got.”

She glances between us. “I’m so sorry for what you’ve both been through tonight. I hope you know there are mental-health options for this kind of trauma.”

“Please don’t give us a fucking mental-health lecture right now. We already got it from two cops.”

“Three,” Leif interjects.

“I’ll definitely keep you both posted,” she says, “though at this level, I’m sure it won’t take long for the media to get a hold of any developments.”

“We look forward to them,” I say. “I don’t want to be rude, but can you leave me and my boyfriend alone now?”

Her gaze settles on the ground. “Yeah. That’s fair. I’ll probably have to follow up—”

“Bye, Detective Roth.”

She heads off, and I rest my head back on Leif’s shoulder.

The EMT suggests that, given how many times I was stunned by Isaac, it might be a good idea to head to the hospital for observation, but since all the vitals they took are fine, I refuse.

I’m just tired. Want to go to bed in my boyfriend’s arms. So Leif and I head back to his place. I know where I need to be right now.

When we get into his bedroom, we collapse on the bed together, and I throw my arms around him, pulling him close.

“I’m so fucking exhausted,” I whisper.

“Me too.”

“But there’s no fucking way I’m gonna be able to sleep after all that.”

“Then maybe we can stay up feeling like this for the rest of the night.”

I kiss the back of his neck. Once. Twice.

The third time, a tear streaks down my face.

It’s like I’ve been holding in all this emotion, especially with all the people we were around, and now it all comes flooding out. My body trembles, now not from shock, but from the weight of it all crashing down on me in an instant.

“He’s gone.”

“I’m so sorry, Zane. I wish there was something I could say to make it better.”

The tears roll down my cheek, onto his neck, and I surrender, sobbing against him, clinging to him desperately, as though if I held him tight enough, I could make sure nothing bad ever happened to my Leif.

He rolls toward me, and I release him enough so he can face me. I bury my face into his chest, a mess of tears and desperate groans that don’t even sound human. “Don’t ever leave me,” I say into his shirt. “Please don’t ever leave me.” I can’t even control the words that come out. I’m so grief-stricken, so desperate for some assurance.

“I’m right here. I’m here, Zane, and I love you. Let it all out. Don’t be afraid. Let me take anything that’s too much for you.”

What little I’ve been holding back, I release, and the sobbing intensifies as I surrender to it completely, knowing I’m safe in his arms.

This grief is just the beginning of the journey; I know that.

As my body works through a primal response, whimpers and screams, tears and trembling, he holds me tighter, assuring me that as long as I have Leif at my side, it’s a journey I can bear.