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Kyle and Ryan were good at that too. They kept me busy as the holidays grew closer, taking me to all new places and even an overnight weekend or two. We always had fun together, and most of the time we could drive away the specter of our missing friends.

Yet without Jason or Dakota, the house felt hollow and empty. We played music a lot and kept the fireplace roaring, but their absence was still felt — especially when the sun went down. When I did think about them, I tried to keep it positive. I limited my thoughts to what I loved most about them, and how they each held a unique place in my heart.

I missed Jason’s confidence and swagger. The way he swept me off my feet with abrupt, impromptu dates and surprise trips to the rifle range. And of course I missed Dakota’s sense of humor and smile. The way he could brighten even the shittiest day with his broad, boyish grin. The way he could hug me — somehow without crushing me — into his warm, gargantuan chest.

The only good thing about having just two guys in the house was that I slept with them every night. Kyle and Ryan basically shared my bed, spooning their sexy, half-clothed bodies against me from either side. Sometimes they’d even wake me in the dead of night, only to slip between my legs and make love to me while the other slept. And other times…

Other times they took me together. Pinning me between their two hard bodies… rocking me back and forth between them. Bringing me to the ecstatic delirium of my own orgasm before erupting inside me.

Thanksgiving came, and we promptly burned the turkey. Kyle soundly declared that ‘turkey sucks!’ in general, then launched into a long tirade about no matter how you cooked it the meat was always dry. We ended up at a Turkish restaurant of all places, eating the most delicious kabobs and big platters of fluffy, spicy rice. We drank wine and laughed and toasted our absent friends, and not a single one of us missed having a traditional feast.

It was the best non-Thanksgiving I’d ever had.

But as the days dragged on, I could tell even the guys were worried. No one had heard anything from Jason in two months, and nothing from Dakota as well.

“I’ll admit it’s strange,” said Kyle one night, playing absently with my hair as I lay in his lap. “But we’re still not worried. Yet…”

I sat up. “What would it take for you to worry?”

He sat there silently, as if trying to decide what to say. In the end he didn’t have an answer.

“Well I’m worried,” I told him. “Worried sick.”

By now, I could tell they’d expected to hear from him. They’d expected some kind of word at least, even if it was from other members of Di Spatia.

In the end there was nothing I could do, so I did my best not to think about it. The foundation for the first of three new construction projects had been poured, and the concrete cured. I saw the main floor’s deck go up. Then the studs. It was all so exciting, seeing such an amazing, vintage home being fleshed out in modern times. The skeleton of a house that would’ve been constructed two centuries ago or more, fresh and new and right before my eyes.

I was busy after that, meeting with sub-contractors and building inspectors. Additional permits were required. Soil analysis and septic tanks and meetings with HVAC technicians to discuss how to best hide the mechanicals. It was all so new to me. I’d been staging homes and decorating them — the ‘fun part’ as the guys liked to call it. But now I was down to the very marrow of things, getting my hands dirty. Making mistakes and learning from them and taking tons of notes so I could streamline the process for next time.

Money was tight. The loans I’d secured had to last through three projects, and I was only working on one. It was tempting to just go for broke and spend whatever I needed without haggling or looking for a lower price on things. But that’s exactly what I did. It was tedious and time-consuming, but I met good people and made valuable contacts I’d be able to use in future builds.

And of course, I checked in on Cindy. Often at first, but then less and less frequently as I realized she really did have things under control. She got the raise she wanted, and then some. And she was happy. And it made me happy that she was happy.

Everything was going relatively well until that cold December morning I woke up alone. The bed wasn’t even warm. I rushed downstairs to find Kyle and Ryan already dressed, looking back at me somberly.

“W—What is it?”

“We heard from Troy last night,” said Kyle. “One of the officers over there running the company.”

My heart leapt into my throat.

“Briggs — err, Jason has gone missing.”

A coldness stole over me. Like my body was slowly being immersed in ice water. I noticed two big green packs on th

e kitchen floor, one beside each of them.

“When?”

“Ten days ago. Maybe more.”

“It’s hard to say,” Ryan added. “The sat-phones don’t always work in the field. Especially near the mountains, and, well…”

His voice trailed off into nothingness. The house was so silent we could hear the slow tick-tock of the grandfather clock out in the foyer.

“We’re going out there to get him,” said Kyle. He eyed me with a hard, pointed look. “And I don’t want to hear anything about you trying to stop us.”

“Stop you? Are you kidding?” I rushed forward frantically. “I’m coming with you!”