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CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

ST. CLARE

I’m terrified he heard everything we were talking about, and it’s not until I hear his car come alive with an admittedly dying sound that I dare talk again.

“We can’t do it.”

Lars groans and buries his face in his hands. “Do we have any other options? I’m worried about Colin. I’m worried about that damn disaster who just walked out the door. And I’m worried about you. None of us are equipped for any of this.”

“You think I don’t know that?”

He slowly looks back up at me. The whites of his eyes are streaked with red, and his curly hair is a hazardous mess. “This place has a bad feeling to it. It’s getting to me.”

“I wouldn’t be at all surprised if we’re sitting in a murder cabin right now.”

“Do you think he’s right though? Could Perry’s phone have been tracked?”

“Have you seen his phone? It’s basically a fossil.”

“Yeah, but …” He tucks his thumb between his teeth as he thinks. “If there’s any possibility, maybe we should move on again.”

Lars clearly can’t grasp the concept of having nowhere to go. “We’re not involving our parents in this. ”

“No, but I was thinking Colin’s place might be an option. It’s got that drain that runs between his and his neighbor’s place. We could follow that, pop out one of the fence panels, and go in through the back.”

“And if there’s someone in there?”

“Then we’ll probably die. Same as if we stay here and are being tracked.”

My head is too full of worries to know what the right answer is. Colin and Perry take up a huge amount of them, but I have enough to spare for me and Lars as well. It’s very much a fucked if I do, fucked if I don’t situation, and I can’t lie and say that I’m not curious about what we could find at Colin’s. The first time I went there looking for him, I noticed his laptop on his office desk. It’s been weeks now, and the police obviously don’t give a shit.

“And if Perry comes back and finds us missing?”

Lars doesn’t have an answer for that. In an ideal world, Perry will get us our answers, find out who’s after me, and then we can turn them over to the police. In order for any of that to happen, he needs to be able to find us once he’s done. Because I refuse to believe he could die over this.

Perry is the kind of guy who feels too big for this world. There’s this permanent brightness to everything he does, and it draws me in. The idea that the brightness and life he has could suddenly be gone ruins me.

“We’ve been okay here so far,” I say. “Would another day make much difference?”

“Imagine if you asked that question this time yesterday.”

He has a good point. Yesterday made a lot of difference, and so did the day before that. I’m almost scared of what else could be coming for us.

I swallow and nod at his phone, grasping at straws to find a sign that will point us in the right direction. “What does your horoscope say?”

Even though I know he would have started the day by checking it, he pulls his phone out and opens the app. Then he reads out loud. “Sudden work pressures are set to test you today, Taurus, but rest assured you’re up to the challenge. You have the strength and energy to meet this head-on and will overcome setbacks quickly, but use caution. Decisions have a ripple effect that will last long beyond today.”

Well, fuck. Up until that last line, it had sounded positive. “I’m so glad horoscopes are clear and decisive.”

“You asked.”

“I’m regretting it now.”

“Look, it says to be cautious. And being cautious means not sitting around here waiting for someone to come knocking.”

“Or maybe being cautious means not making random choices to up and leave.”

Lars turns his phone over in his hands. “Okay, we’ll stay. For now. Any sign of a car, we leave. And if Perry’s not back tomorrow morning …”

He doesn’t need to finish that. If he’s not back, he’s in trouble. And sitting around here won’t help anything.

***

The day goes for entirely too long. Lars spends time exploring again, and I spend time going out of my goddamn brain.

Somehow, I get myself into the shower and changed without having a breakdown. Considering it’s getting late, I probably should have left my clothes to get washed, but I’ve reached the point where I don’t think sleep is going to happen, and I’m not so sure we won’t be back on the run at a moment’s notice.

Eating makes me feel sicker, and there’s not a huge range anyway. Barely five minutes have passed before I give in to the need to do something. Anything. Purpose helps me feel only slightly less anxious, and when I step outside to tidy up the yard, the illusion of productivity helps tug Perry from my mind.

Mostly.

That deep, unhinged rattling inside me won’t stop, and it’s taking all my energy to keep it trapped tight. Because Perry is fine. Colin is fine. There’s no point breaking down over something that hasn’t happened yet.

I send a quick mental plea to the universe as I stack firewood and throw metal tools into a pile. Chairs snap closed, and garbage is gathered, and I tug tug tug weeds from what’s supposed to be a flower bed until my frantic hands redden and ache and dirt fills the grooves under my fingernails. I’m barely registering any of it. Barely seeing what I’m seeing, just moving, moving, moving.

The faster I move, the more my anxiety rattles out of me and the more my hands shake. My throat gets so thick I can feel the pressure right down to my chest. I’m freezing cold. My muscles seize. Pressure builds behind my eyes. But still, I grab and throw and tear through the yard like it’s the only tether to my sanity. When the log I’m moving slips from my hold and thuds to the ground, frustration explodes from me, and I aim a solid kick at the wood.

The sudden pain that spikes through me breaks me out of it.

I’m panting, trembling so hard I feel sick.

I can’t hold it in anymore.

My hands feel full of splinters as I hunch over the log, eyes prickling, willing all this to end.

All I can smell out here is wet decay, which clogs up any shreds of hope I had left. Where the fuck is my brother? The way I miss him has carved out a cavern in my chest that only goes deeper by the day. And the more time that passes without contact from Perry, the more I worry that Colin won’t be the only one.

I can’t have a Perry-shaped hole too. There’s only so much I can deal with before I’m left empty.

And apparently, I’m shit at protecting even myself because I don’t notice Lars has joined me until he grabs my shoulder and pulls me to him. I fold into his chest, hating that I can’t handle all of this like a normal day. Just like he does. We might be best friends, but we can’t be more different.

“I want to tell you everything will be okay, but … ”

“There’s a high chance it won’t be?” I guess.

“We’re not going to think about that right now.” His solid arms squeeze me tighter, and it’s not the most comfortable thing, hugging a wall of solid muscle, but it’s keeping me together. It’s not like being in Perry’s arms.

“Have you tried calling Perry?”

“I haven’t.” Because I know if I call him and I end up getting the same deadline as Colin, I’m not going to be able to keep my shit together. I’m not doing a great job of it in general, but I think I’ve reached the point of PTSD when it comes to unanswered phone calls.

“His phone is still off.”

It doesn’t surprise me that Lars has tried. I rest my forehead against his shoulder. “You need to shower.”

“Nope.”

“You stink.”

“I’d rather stink than walk out and find you dead.”

Slowly, I ease away from him. “It still doesn’t feel real. I’m no one important. It’s like … does he really hate us that much? Why?”

“Money makes people do wild things.” Lars drops onto the log, and I let out something that’s been haunting me all day.

“I think I’m scared that Perry might be right. About Colin.”

That shocks the hell out of him. “What?”

“What the hell else am I supposed to think?”

“He’s your brother .”

“I know he’s my brother, but none of this makes any sense, and I’ve reached the point where nothing will surprise me anymore.” The looming woods stare back at me. Intimidating me.

“Sticking your head in the sand won’t change anything. And for what it’s worth, that’s not Colin. Everything is strange, but he’s not the kind of guy to fuck you over.”

“On purpose,” I add.

“Yeah. That.” Lars takes a deep breath, night starting to set in. “We’re getting somewhere. I can feel it.”

I wish I could.

Instead, I’m flailing further from answers than ever.