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CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

JASPER

Bang, bang, bang.

Somebody’s trying to break in. I jump up, disorientated, my heart hammering from the sudden intrusion. Falin stirs beside me, mumbling in her sleep, and I remember how we defiled the couch in the most delicious way.

“Maintenance!” a deep voice sounds. Before I’m able to get my bearings, Leon strides to the door, pulling it open and greeting whichever bastard had the nerve to jolt me from dreamland.

I watch through groggy eyes as two guys lugging a ladder and a tool kit hurry into the room, getting directions from Leon. The first one stops, his eyes lingering on Falin’s bare leg stretched out over the blanket. “If you’d like to keep your eyes, you better get moving,” I say. He darts his gaze away, muttering an apology. I flash a grin to show I’m only kidding, but honestly, I’d do much worse than take his eyes.

Climbing over Falin, I go to take a piss, struggling with my insane morning wood. I’m so distracted, I almost forget that we can’t flush. As I set up my toothbrush, uncapping the bottled water someone left in here, I roll my lip between my teeth, still tasting Falin. I wish I didn’t have to brush my fucking teeth or wash up. She was drenched for me, soaking my face like it was her job. I want to remember that every time I wet my lips, but I can’t go around with rancid breath.

By the time I leave the bathroom, the two workers are walking out the door. “Where the hell are they going?” I ask Leon, who’s locking up behind them.

He shrugs and lets loose a tired sigh. “They need to order parts, apparently.”

“They were here for thirty seconds. How could they know that?” I glance over at Falin, feeling awful that she’s still out of a bedroom. Although we seem to have claimed the couch as our own, literally and figuratively.

“I’d fix it myself if I knew a damn thing about plumbing,” he said.

I notice the shadows under his eyes and the way his shoulders sag. “Did you get any sleep yet?”

“A wink or two.” He won’t meet my eyes, so I’m guessing that’s a lie. “My father called this morning while I was out. He’s in town and wants to have some ‘father-son bonding time.’”

I stop halfway into the kitchen. “He’s in New York?”

“That would be what I meant by in town.”

I’d give him shit for being a know-it-all if he wasn’t so miserable. His father could win an award for biggest prick in England. “I’m sorry, man. Can you blow him off?”

I grab what I need to brew a pot of coffee while listening. “I wish, but unless we want to get cut off, I need to keep kissing his ass.”

The coffee machine’s hiss is like sweet music to my ears. “How long will you be gone?” Last time he had to meet up with his father for “dinner” he was gone for three days, paraded around to every colleague like a prized horse. Nothing could be further from reality though. Leon will never be good enough for his father. The man will always pick him apart, and who knows what else, until Leon can shut him out for good.

“I won’t let him manipulate me this time. Just dinner, that’s it. We have too much happening.” I pour his coffee first, grab the creamer from the fridge and slide both across to him.

“If you need backup, I’ll be there in a second.”

He nods, watching the steam rise from his mug. “I know.”

The apartment comes alive from the smell of coffee, I guess. Blake and Damon emerge from their room, looking fresh and rested. Minutes later, Kayla and Mischa’s door opens, which is perfect timing. I slip in to grab a T-shirt and some sweatpants, coming back to find Falin sitting up on the couch, the blanket covering her lap.

Our eyes lock, and I take in the way her breath catches. I’m so gone for her, it’s wild. I busted Damon’s balls for being obsessed with Blake not two months ago, and here I am, googly eyed from one look.

“We need to talk.” We both turn toward Blake’s voice to see her standing in front of Mischa. She’s clearly upset, but she’s standing her ground. I’m proud of her. “There was so much going on last night, and you were clearly dehydrated, and well… What the hell were you doing there, Mischa? Tell us everything.”

With the eyes of everyone in the apartment on her, Mischa’s face turns red. I can see her facade start to crumble, and in seconds she runs to the bathroom, shutting the door.

“Fuck,” Damon says, pulling his hand through his hair. He squeezes Blake’s shoulder and heads for the front door. “I need a smoke. I’ll be right back.”

“I can understand her not wanting to talk,” Kayla says, surprising me. She’s been pretty quiet since that first night. Some of her confidence must be returning. “I don’t know her, but if she came from the same situation I did, she’ll need time.”

Blake nods, collapsing on the couch next to Falin. “I understand that, but it’s different with her. She’s more involved.”

“Plus, we need to get whatever information we can from her, as fast as possible,” Falin adds.

“Maybe she’ll talk to me,” I offer. Falin pins me with a hard gaze. “People tell me things. I don’t know, I guess it’s my charm.” At that, Falin and Blake both snort. “It’s worth a shot.”

“Go ahead,” Blake says. “You’re doing me a favor, because I can barely stand to look at her. Brennan…” She trails off, her voice faint. Falin pulls her into a hug.

“Go,” Leon says. “See if you can get her to talk.”

I grab a cold bottle of water from the fridge and head to the bathroom, knocking gently. “Hey, it’s Jasper. Can I come in?”

No answer.

I wait for a moment. I know it’s not the same, but I remember how I felt when my parents told me about Bailey’s abduction. I didn’t know how to talk to people about it. Every thought was a tangled mess of fear, fury, and grief. I’m not sure what Mischa knows about her father. She could be just as innocent in all of this as we are. For some reason, I want to give her the benefit of the doubt.

I knock again. “I’m not upset with you. I just want to talk.”

She finally cracks the door enough to let me see her tear-stained face. I gently push it open and squeeze inside.

“I didn’t know,” she cries. “I swear, I had no idea.”

Her head hangs as she quietly sobs. “What did they do to you?” It’s the one thing I ask that I almost don’t want the answer to.

She keeps her gaze trained on the tile floor. “Nothing nearly as bad as what they’ve done to others. He kept me safe.”

I tilt my head, wondering who she means. “Who did?”

“It doesn’t matter. He’s gone now, they both are.” Frustrated, I tip her chin so she’s forced to look at me. I haven’t slept nearly enough to deal with cryptic half answers.

“Did your father make you stay there?”

She shakes her head. “No, it was my cousin. My father too, possibly, but I don’t know.”

Okay, now I’m getting somewhere. “Alexander?”

“Yes. That son of a bitch killed Brennan.” Her lip quivers as she holds back a sob.

“He did, and he tried to kill Blake too,” I add. “We know he was upset with you for talking to me. He thought you were sharing information. Why would he think that?”

“Like I know? He’s a psychopath. I knew my father’s business wasn’t exactly on the up and up, but I had no idea what he and Brennan were doing. How evil they were.”

I study her face. I’m not as good as Damon and Leon at telling when a person is lying, but she seems genuine. “Can you give us anything on them? We think he may know something about my missing sister.” Her eyes widen. I grab my phone from my pocket and swipe to a photo of Bailey. “Have you ever seen her?”

She scans the photo, fidgeting with a loose string on her shirt. “No, she wasn’t one of the girls at the house.” A mix of relief and disappointment washes over me. “But there’s a way you could check if my father has her.”

I almost drop my phone. “What did you say?”

She smiles for the first time since I met her months ago, and a glimpse of her beauty shines through. “I hope you have a shovel.”

* * *

We’re all gathered around the couch eating pizza and catching up after an eventful day. Except Leon. Poor guy was miserable when he left to meet his father for dinner.

Earlier, Falin and I brought Kayla to the train station, where she shared a tearful reunion with her parents. Watching that moment, I couldn’t help but feel hopeful that someday soon we’d have the same experience when we find Bailey. Even though I know Kayla has years of healing ahead and her life won’t return to normal any time soon, seeing her safe because of our help fills me with a feeling of pride I haven’t felt in a long time.

Breaking down doors and confronting bad guys is one thing, but witnessing someone like Kayla get their life back, seeing it through to the end, that’s something else entirely.

“How’d it go with Mischa?” Falin asks. “When you texted me, you didn’t say much.” I’ve been thinking the same thing since we sat down, but didn’t want to be the one to ask.

“It went fine.” Blake takes a small bite of her gluten-free pizza.

“Okay,” Falin says, drawing out the word. “So what happened?”

Damon hasn’t touched his pizza. I glance his way with questioning eyes, but he doesn’t notice. He’s too busy watching Blake.

“We dropped her at the airport, just like we planned,” Blake answers.

Silence falls while we chew our food. They don’t ask about Kayla, which isn’t like them. I take a sip of my beer, and catch Falin watching my throat.

Finally, Damon breaks the silence, his voice laced with anger. “I still can’t believe you gave her your money.”

Blake drops her plate on the table. “It’s my money to do what I want with.”

“But you deserve that money. You’ll need it for school.”

Falin and I lock eyes across the coffee table, both feeling the tension thicken.

“Who knows when I’ll go back… if I can even get into another med school.”

“That’s bullshit, of course you will. You’re fucking brilliant.”

“If I’m so brilliant, then why can’t you respect my decision?”

In a fucked up way, I’m enjoying this. Makes the dream couple seem as normal as the rest of us. I swallow another mouthful of beer, leaning back on the couch while they volley back and forth. I can see Falin’s expression morph, like a dormant volcano ready to burst. She can’t not rush to Blake’s aid. It’s impossible for her.

“She didn’t deserve your help. Not after how she treated you. Look who her father is!”

“What I do is my business! If you don’t like it then?—”

“For the love of baby Jesus in the manger! Will you two stop for two fucking seconds?” Falin yells. They both go quiet. She takes a deep breath—which I know she’ll need to hand deliver their asses to them. Man, I wish I had a bowl of popcorn. But I’ll settle for finishing off my beer. “Damon, Blake is an adult and you’re not her keeper. If she wanted to help that raging she-devil then none of us can stop her. Blake, of course your smart ass will get into med school. Don’t you dare put yourself down! And for fuck’s sake, just tell us what happened!”

Falin’s chest heaves in the hottest way as she stops talking. I break the silence with a well-placed slow clap. It earns me three sets of glaring eyes, but if there was ever a time for a slow clap, it was right then.

“Where’s my knife?” Blake mutters, her glare turning into the cutest scowl.

“In the bedroom. Want me to get it?” Damon answers. He’s back to having big love eyes for her, his hand on her thigh.

I hold up my hands in surrender. “No need to get stabby, just loosening the tension.”

Falin sighs, rolling her eyes and shaking her head. “I’m waiting. Before you guys left with her she casually mentioned digging up a body. You can’t leave us hanging here.”

Blake finally relents. “I pulled a bunch of cash for her and told her to never come back to New York. To start over somewhere new. I hate her, of course I do. But some part of Brennan loved her. I know he did. And from what little she told me, she hasn’t had it easy the past few months.”

“And the whole, ‘I have information that’ll lead to Bailey’ thing?” I ask. “She wouldn’t tell me specifics, not until we delivered on our promise to get her to the airport safely.”

Damon wipes a drip of beer with the back of his hand, a slow smile spreading across his face. “We should have led with this. I was just too pissed. So apparently Orlova had a boyfriend at the house. One of her cousin’s guys.”

“She has a type,” Falin mutters. Blake shoots daggers at her. “Sorry.”

“Anyway, this guy, she wouldn’t tell us his name, was helping her. Making a plan to get away from her cousin, run off together. He stole a flash drive, something to blackmail Orlov with. She didn’t know exactly what’s on there, but she thinks it has information on all the victims. That guy Yuri figured out what was going on and killed him. Buried him across the street on that hill. She swears he was buried with that flash drive.”

We sit quietly, absorbing this information. Falin’s the first one to speak. “So, you’re saying we have to dig up a body, in the freezing cold, with no exact location, to maybe, possibly, get a flash drive that may or may not exist?”

Damon shrugs. “Yup, that sums it up.”

Falin swallows a sip of beer, and grins. “Sign me the fuck up.”