Chapter 16

SIXTEEN

TAVISH

“You alright?” I ask, since Ellis has just been standing there in silence for a solid minute.

“I don’t know,” he admits. “She said that Arthur was the one who protected my family when this all went down, and that I’m wrong about who the guy who took me was. Anyway, do you think I could take a shower?”

“Of course. You’re safe to go anywhere but the basement. Whatever you do, don’t go in the basement if you value your mental health,” I warn him. He’d be wise to listen so he doesn’t get scarred for life. It might be worse than running across Murder Island.

Weirdly, he doesn’t even inquire about that or ask for specifics. He just nods, and I watch him head out to find Leland or Jackson to ask about using the shower. Finding myself alone, I lean back in the chair as I think.

What the hell have I gotten myself caught up in?

My body is stiff, my shoulder hurts—but at least the pain is tolerable—and I feel dead tired. I get up to find my own shower and stumble across Leland instead.

“Weasel,” I mutter as soon as my eyes touch him.

“Sloth bear.”

“They’re trying to tell Ellis that the guy who abducted him is the one who was originally trying to protect him.”

“Interesting. I’ll shoot that over to Cassel and see what he can get out of that.”

“Uhhhhhhh, thanks… for taking us in,” I say.

“Will you do that again? I’d love a video of it so I can set your gratitude as my ringtone for every time you call.”

“That’s definitely not what happened, but if that’s what makes you happy.”

“Maybe a wee bit,” Leland says. “Not as happy as watching Jackson climb a fence today, but still pretty damn happy. We’ll figure it all out. And we’ll definitely figure out who broke your window.”

“It was you. You broke the window,” I growl.

“Wow, you suck at this. I’m glad being a detective isn’t your main job.”

“Nope, you were still the one who broke it.”

“No. Nope. I’ll probably have to enlist a sexy private investigator to figure it out.”

“Let me save you some time: it was you.”

“I don’t know about that. Anyway, how’s your shoulder?” he asks.

I pull the shirt down and peel the bandage back. Despite all I’ve been through, it hasn’t bled much since Ellis sutured it, which is good. And the pain is definitely more tolerable.

“When the hell did you have time to stop at the hospital?” Leland asks.

“I didn’t. Ellis stitched me up in the middle of the woods.”

“Damn. Looks good. Was this before or after you jumped out of a plane?”

Waylon’s head pops out of his room. “You jumped out of a plane?”

I give him a nod. “I did. You should have heard Ellis scream; he was having so much fun.”

Waylon doesn’t look convinced.

“You want to go skydiving, Waylon?” Leland asks. “Papa Leland will take you to do anything you want.”

“No. Definitely not.”

“Is there something else you want to do?”

“No, I’m fine, I don’t need anything,” he says as he heads down the hallway twirling his headphones. Leland snatches him by the neck and pulls him back.

“You tell Papa Leland what you want, you hear me?”

Waylon struggles against him, but I notice it’s much more playful than when he first brought the teen into his house. It seems like the kid is finally able to relax a bit. He even rolls his eyes as Leland grabs him in a hug, but I can see that he’s struggling not to laugh.

“Ew, gross.”

“Papa Leland must show you affection. You are going to like the affection.”

“Liking it might be farfetched.”

“ Loving it ,” Leland decides on. “Hey, Waylon, do you want me to teach you how to go on car chases?”

“I don’t even know how to drive yet.”

“Yeah, but if we start with something like a car chase, driving normally will be so easy. It’s like riding a bike down a hill before you put the training wheels on.”

“I’m… not sure that’s how that works. What if you do my math for me instead?” he asks.

“I won’t do it, but I’ll help you with it. If you have seven guns and you multiply them by seven-point-two guns, how many guns would you have?”

“You’re so strange,” Waylon decides, but he still takes him with him to work on his homework, which is pretty damn impressive.

Jackson steps out of the bathroom and motions back toward it. “I got you all set up. Towel and washcloth are on the sink. I set out some clothes for you. Anything else you need?”

“Nah. That’s all. Thanks,” I say. I was going to say something about wearing his clothes loud enough that Leland could hear, but I oddly can’t find it in myself to care. Instead, my mind is back to wandering over Ellis and the way he’d silently stood in the room after that call.

I guess I’m not used to working with people who aren’t already deep into this kind of bullshit. I don’t know what it’s like actually caring about someone enough to risk your life for them. I mean… I’ve grown to know Micah, Leland, Jackson, Cassel, and the others as time has gone on. And I think they’ve shown me more than once how far they’ll go for each other. I definitely would do a lot of shit to help them and already have… but I’ve never had family like Ellis does. Or a normal life I want to protect.

Being careful to keep my shoulder from getting wet, I wash up as best I can and head back to the room where Ellis is helping Jackson get an air mattress set up.

“Thank you so much for letting us stay here,” Ellis says.

“Of course,” Jackson responds as he starts stretching sheets over the mattress. “Don’t worry about it. Leland lives for things like this.”

Ellis gives him a sweet smile. “I… feel like if you’re running a PI office, I should pay you, though. I’m not sure how much something like this costs, but I’ll do whatever it takes to pay it off, I promise.”

Jackson shakes his head. “You’ll do no such thing. Don’t worry about payment at all. Alright?”

“Yeah, but you guys can’t just do this for nothing. You’re doing so much.”

“Leland loves this stuff. Like… if you hadn’t come along, he’d have been miserably moping around because he had to work on a cheating case again. And then he’d stick his nose somewhere it doesn’t belong, and we’d be off dealing with some other bullshit. Trust me, we’d rather help you than deal with any of that. Now get some sleep. Cassel’s going to be digging into all of this to see what he can figure out, and we’ll meet up with him tomorrow.”

“Thank you.”

Jackson heads out, and I look over at Ellis, whose face is bruised in multiple places. Even after the shower it doesn’t look much better… maybe even worse now that the dirt and stuff has been washed away. He really looks rough after that asshole had him beaten up. His lip and cheek are cut, and he has a few scrapes on the side of his face that I can’t help but feel guilty about.

I really didn’t know, but I should have done better.

Now that Jackson’s gone, Ellis is back to just sitting there in silence.

“Tavish!” Leland calls from outside the room.

“Uh… I’ll be back,” I tell Ellis, not sure what else to say before hurrying out of the room.

“What’s that look for?” Leland asks, brow furrowed.

“What look?”

“The look like you just saw something horrific and you’re terrified.”

“I’m not terrified,” I mutter as I follow him downstairs.

“Sure look terrified to me. Oh no! Did you see your own reflection?”

“Don’t be a dick. My reflection is enough to make everyone stop and gasp,” I say.

Leland snorts, weirdly not believing that.

“Ellis looks all… upset or something. He’s like… staring off and quiet, and… my brain is telling me that this is when people comfort someone, but I don’t do that shit. I don’t know how.”

“I sure as fuck never did either,” Leland says. “Stupidest thing I’d ever heard of. Feelings? Who the fuck needed them?”

“Right?”

“But Jackson showed me that I didn’t have to be so damn terrified of them and proved to me that they might actually make me feel like more of a person. Don’t get me wrong, they’re still stupid as fuck, but I guess they’re not as… horrible and disgusting as I once thought. Even talking about this makes me feel murdery.”

“Me too.”

“I see we can finally agree on something, sloth bear.”

I grunt in reply since a verbal agreement with this man would be one step too far. “What’d you need, anyway?”

“You know how to do math?” he asks as he points at Waylon and Jackson who are both staring at a worksheet in confusion.

“What, you think I’m an idiot? Of course I’m good at math,” I say as I strut over, pick up the paper, and then promptly set it back down.

“That’s not math.”

“Right?” Leland asks.

Waylon sighs and slumps down on the table. “I give up.”

“I would too. You’re usually so smart that I’m shocked you’re even stumped,” Leland says.

“I know! I’ve disappointed myself,” Waylon whines. “I missed a lot of school and this teacher does things a strange way. If I could just do it my way and show no work, I’d be fine! Like I can figure out the answer, but I don’t know how to get it using their method.”

“You’re not giving up,” Jackson says. “Cassel is super smart. We’ll ask him.”

“I texted him a bit ago, but you know how he gets when he’s all wrapped up in his computer. He forgets other lives exist. Even pictures of The Fence won’t get him to respond,” Leland replies. “Okay, here’s what we’ll do. We’ll kidnap your teacher so you have a sub tomorrow. Then we will let your teacher go when we finally figure it out.”

“That sounds horribly illegal,” Waylon says.

“It’s this or an F, buddy,” Leland tells him.

Waylon grimaces as he weighs his options. “I really don’t want an F. I’ve finally started to get my grades up after missing so much school because of that… shit… stuff. I don’t know if I’m allowed to cuss or not. Leland totes a blow-up doll around, and I’m just generally confused on what’s allowed here.”

“We are not abducting your teacher,” Jackson states.

“I understand,” Leland says. “But we could abduct someone else who is smart at math. Who is the smartest kid in your school?”

The look on Jackson’s face quickly nips that in the bud.

“I can ask Ellis,” I suggest. “He seems intelligent… maybe? I think? I mean… he did throw a gun at me without sliding the safety on… but maybe he’s good at math. Let me ask him. Realistically, out of all of us, he’s the one who finished school most recently.”

I head upstairs and push through the door where Ellis jumps and rubs his face before quickly turning away, and I realize with horror that I’ve walked in on a crying man.

What the fuck do I do now?

Do I pretend I don’t notice? Do I play it off like “Yo, tears are manly. You’re free to cry.” But now I just sound weird as fuck. I should like… hug him or something, right? That sounds awkward.

Should I run? Yes. I should tell him I forgot something out there and just go back out.

“I forgot my underwear,” I blurt out before tossing a thumbs-up, which is as awkward as it can be, and then hurry toward the door. Why the fuck did I pick underwear? Why was that the first word that came to my mind?

“Oh… okay?” he says.

But now that I’m facing the door, with no underwear to go retrieve and my mind racing, I don’t know what to do. I’m just standing here debating life, debating all of my choices, and wondering what I should do. I’ve now stood here so long that it’s become weird. I know it’s weird. He clearly knows it’s weird. We all know it’s weird.

My hand is on the doorknob, but I can’t commit to turning it. Instead, I take a deep breath.

I can do this.

If Leland can do this, I can do it.

“You can stop overanalyzing everything. I’m sorry,” Ellis says.

“Overanalyzing? Ha. As if I would do that. I was doing no such thing.”

“Okay.”

Fuck . I think I’m making it worse.

I turn away from the door and walk over to him. When he glances up at me, I notice his eyes are red, but he’s forced the tears away.

“You need something?” he asks.

There’s a single tear left, paving a path down his bruised cheek. When it reaches his chin, I reach out and swipe it away, almost feeling like I’m mesmerized by it.

“I’m… sorry all of this shit has happened to you,” I say as I realize that I’m still touching his chin. He doesn’t seem to mind, and I can’t find any desire to let go, even though I know I really should.

“It’s not your fault.”

I finally force my hand to drop, and his eyes follow it. Did he want it to stay? I am not good at this. “Well… it kind of is. Though I suppose if he hadn’t hired me, he’d have hired someone else who might not have been any kinder. But…” But what? “I… uh… don’t quite know what you’re going through. But… I’m sorry. Do you want to go be with your family?”

His eyes drop. “No. I’m just tired… and scared… and afraid something’s going to happen to the only two people I have. My mom asked me over to have dinner with her the night before I was taken and I was tired, so I turned her down. And what if I could have spent one more moment with her and I chose not to so I could go home and watch some shitty TV and eat some unhealthy takeout?”

“Your mom and sister are safe,” I say. “And we’re going to figure this out and end it.”

Ellis starts blinking harder, but he can’t stop the tears from coming. “I feel like such an idiot. The rest of you are all like ‘It’s fine, this is a walk in the fucking park,’ but my walks in the park are usually peaceful. Not getting the shit beaten out of me, thinking I’m going to die, being shot at, and jumping out of a fucking airplane, you know?”

“Yeah…” I respond, realizing that maybe no part of what just happened was normal. “I guess… growing up in it, I became used to it. So… maybe I’m not the best person to… I don’t know, talk to about this stuff.”

He rubs his face. “No, you’re fine. I’m just… tired, you know? Long day. Very long day. Thanks… for talking to me, though. It made me feel better.”

I stare at him, confused how anything I said could have made him feel even remotely better. “Well… uh, I’m glad I could be helpful. I always knew I should be a therapist or something.”

Ellis snorts, telling me that maybe I hadn’t been that helpful, but at least he’s not crying anymore.

“Did you clean your face up at all?” I ask.

“I took a shower. Do I still have dirt on my face?”

“Hold tight,” I say as I slip out and head back to the bathroom where I grab the medical kit that had been left out. I carry it back into the room where he’s fumbling with the sheets. “Sit on the bed.”

“Oh, I guess I didn’t put anything on the cuts. It’s fine.”

“Sit,” I repeat. “If you don’t sit, I’ll pin you down and apply it. And if you struggle, I’m sending you down into the basement.”

“Do I even want to know what’s in the basement?”

“One hundred percent hell,” I say as I wipe some antibiotic cream on the cuts before putting a Band-Aid over the larger one, so he doesn’t get blood on the pillow. “You should probably put ice on that, too. I’ll get you some.”

“No, it’s fine. I don’t want to bother them or you.”

“You worry too much,” I say. “Do you think Leland was afraid of bothering you when he made you look at his sacred fence?”

Ellis grins a little. “Probably not. I’m still really confused by that fence.”

“We all are,” I assure him.

That makes him laugh.

“Oh, wait, I was supposed to ask if you’re good at math.” I kind of forgot about Waylon and his mess of math problems when I saw the tears.

“I’m decent. Why?”

“Waylon’s struggling with his math homework.”

“Oh, yeah, let me see what I can do,” he says as he gets up. And just like that, he’s pushed all of his worries back. His eyes still look a little red, but not as red as mine from being sprayed in the face with an entire can of bathroom spray.

When we reach the lower floor, he heads over and picks up the sheet Waylon left on the table while he’s over in the cupboards scavenging for a snack.

“Oh yeah, I hate the formula layout for this, but you have to start it like this,” he says, grabbing a chair and a pencil as Waylon comes over. Ellis starts jotting some stuff down on a scrap piece of paper as he goes over how to handle the equation.

“Does this mean I don’t get to abduct anyone?” Leland asks.

Ellis’s head snaps around to look at him, concern on his face. “Who were you abducting?”

“No one,” Leland says as he pats the head of his giant Doberman who I’m positive contemplates eating me every time it sees me. It’s big enough that I feel confident it could get me down.

My eyes flick off the dog and back to Ellis as he pretends like nothing in the world is bothering him while he smiles at Waylon and helps him tackle the bullshit that’s on the paper. And I find it rather hard to look away.