Hunter and Becca had brought her dad, Bill Chandler, back to the house when they’d called to tell them what had happened.
Bill had looked at Gareth’s body and had said to Michael,
“You all killed Gareth Brody. You might not have wanted a war, kid, but I think you just started one.”
Adam studied Nick in the darkness, his eyes full of wary uncertainty. Nick wondered if this was the wtf coming home to set up shop.
Adam frowned. “And the studio . . . if the police come knocking, you expect me to tell them we left before anything happened? That we had no idea?” His voice was level, even.
Nick shifted on the step to look at him. “I don’t expect you to do anything, Adam. You don’t need to keep my secrets.” He sighed, resigned. “I know what I am. I know what happened. If you want to tell the cops everything, I can’t stop you.”
Adam nodded.
And that could mean anything.
“Okay,” Nick said softly. “I don’t want—” He hesitated. “I’ll leave.”
He waited for Adam to protest. Adam didn’t.
Nick stood and opened the sliding door. His voice was rough now. This was a thousand times worse than when they’d been caught by Hunter. “Thanks for taking care of Quinn,” he said.
Then he didn’t wait for a response. He slid the door closed and walked through the apartment to the front door.
Follow me. Please. Follow me.
Adam didn’t. Nick made it up the steps of the apartment building, through the locked front door, and across the parking lot.
But when he pressed the button on the car door clicker, Adam’s voice stopped him.
“Nick. Stop. Wait.”
Nick turned. Adam was jogging across the stretch of pavement to catch up with him.
Nick wasn’t sure what he expected. A kiss, a plea to stay, a hug, for god’s sake.
But Adam stopped and said, “Why didn’t you tell me the truth about Tyler?”
Nick frowned. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Quinn told me that when you were younger, Tyler used to beat the crap out of you. That Gabriel used to stop him.”
Oh.
Nick leaned against the car and memorized the asphalt. “I didn’t lie to you. Tyler is an ass**le.” But he couldn’t say it with the vitriol he usually saved for Tyler Morgan.
Adam didn’t say anything.
Nick glanced up, then quickly away, feeling the weight of Adam’s eyes, knowing he needed to offer more of an answer. “I never told you because I was embarrassed.” Another hesitation. “And because I didn’t want to diminish what had happened to you.”
“I wish I’d known.” Adam hesitated. “And what happens to you doesn’t diminish anything that happens to me.”
“It’s fine. It’s not a big deal.”
Adam moved closer, and Nick froze. “It is a big deal. All of this is a big deal. If you’re in danger—if someone is threatening you—” He broke off and swore. “Damn it, Nick. If this is going to work, you have to trust me to care about you back.”
If this is going to work. Nick stared at him.
But Adam still looked agitated. “You made it sound like—I thought it was some stupid family rivalry. I yelled at you at the studio, and I would have—I should have told him to get the hell out of there.” He put his hands on Nick’s face, warm and strong and secure.
But then he shook his head. “I’m so pissed that you thought you had to sit there with him.”
Nick put his hands over Adam’s and held them there. “No.
I’m glad I had to sit there with him. Because I finally got the chance to tell him off.”
Honestly, now that they’d come to this point, Nick wondered why he hadn’t said something to Tyler years ago.
No, he knew why. Because he’d never met anyone who made him feel like he had a right to what he wanted, not just what everyone else expected.
“Besides,” Nick said. “You were right. People do have different capacities for failure.”
“And triumph,” said Adam. Then he leaned forward and kissed him.
He drew back before too long, but not far. His voice was soft.
“Can you stay?”
Nick wanted nothing more.
But he shook his head. “Michael will have a panic attack if I’m not home soon. Too much is up in the air.”
“Are you in danger?”
“We’re always in danger.”
Adam stroked a finger along Nick’s cheek. “Can danger wait five minutes?”
Nick smiled. “Danger can wait ten.”
Darkness had claimed the sky by the time Nick made it home. Michael was waiting for him in the living room, re -
arranging the furniture to cover a large cut-out portion of carpeting. Nick could hear Chris and Becca and Hunter having a hushed conversation in the kitchen.
“I was about ready to send out a search party,” Michael said.
Nick flung his keys on the side table. The day had been long and terrifying. But now that his family was safe, old worries forced their way back into his head. “I’m fine. They’re fine.”
Michael looked like he was going to start picking, and Nick wanted to head that off at the pass. “What happened to Tyler?”
“He helped make sure the woods were clear, offered to help re-carpet the living room, and then he left.”
Nick scowled. He’d hoped Tyler would be the usual selfish prick he knew him to be. “Wow, that was generous of him.”
“Sometimes,” said Michael, “when a fight has been going on for a long time, it stops being about who’s right and who’s wrong, and it starts being about who can bury the hatchet first.”
Nick was too tired for this. “Thanks, Yoda. Wise words, you say.” He headed for the stairs.
“Hey,” Michael called after him. “I’m not just talking about Tyler.”
Nick didn’t pause. “Caught the subtext, Mike. Really understated.”Nick expected Michael to say something else, but his older brother moved away from the bottom of the stairs.
When Nick made it to the top, Gabriel was leaning against his bedroom door frame. Waiting.
Nick had known he would be. He’d known it almost since he’d walked through the front door.
His twin looked worn. Tired and drawn. Nick knew the feeling. But Gabriel’s bullet wounds had healed. A good night’s sleep and some sunlight and he’d probably be good as new.
“Hey,” Gabriel said. Hesitant, probably for the first time ever.
Nick was tempted to blow right past him and slam his door in Gabriel’s face. But he stopped. “Hey.”
“Will you come in? Will you talk to me?”
Nick glanced at his own door. “I’m tired.”
“Nicky.” Gabriel’s voice was rough. “Nicky, I just—”
“Stop,” said Nick. He realized he didn’t want to listen to this.
He didn’t want to hear it. He wished he had stayed with Adam, and Michael’s worry be damned. He wanted to run to his room and slam the door and never face his twin brother again.
No. That wasn’t true.
Nick stepped up to Gabriel and kept his voice very low. “Save it. Don’t apologize. I might have saved your life, but that doesn’t mean we’re okay. You said in the car that you wished you knew why I was keeping something from you. I guess you got your answer, didn’t you?”
Gabriel visibly flinched. “Nicky—”
“Stop calling me that. Stop talking to me. You can’t undo what you did. Ever. Do you understand that?”
He didn’t wait for an answer but turned for his bedroom. He didn’t bother with slamming his door. He just pushed it closed.
For half a second, he wished Gabriel would push it open.
He didn’t.
Nick stared at the paneled wood and wondered if what he’d said was true.
You can’t undo what you did. Ever.
He thought of Tyler coming back for Quinn. Or in the woods, grabbing Nick’s arms and reminding him of past wrongs, feeding him enough power to stop the Guide.
Or later, Tyler with a gun, pulling a trigger to save Michael.
Risking his life. Tying himself to their fate.
Had that undone the years of torment?
Nick wasn’t sure.
He thought of everyone around him, what they wanted, what they needed. It felt so natural, so comfortable, rearranging what he wanted to fit what he thought they needed.
He almost went back into the hallway to listen to his twin brother.
But then he stopped. He thought about what he wanted.
What he needed.
Without hesitation, he went to his desk and pulled out the stack of college envelopes he’d hidden.
Then he slid his finger under the first flap and started ripping.
CHAPTER 34
Quinn was in French class Wednesday morning when the call from the guidance office came.
And just like that, she knew.
She’d been living with Adam, and she’d told him it would only be a few days, until her mom dried out. He’d told her she could stay as long as she needed. And the longer she went with a quiet home, a clean shower, and eight hours of sleep, the less she wanted to leave.
But she knew that was unrealistic. Adam had one bedroom and one bathroom. He was dating Nick, and she felt like more of a third wheel with them than she had with Chris and Becca.
She hadn’t heard from Tyler since she’d seen him kill the Guide.
She wasn’t sure she wanted to talk to him, either, but it hurt that he hadn’t reached out to her.
And now, walking down empty school hallways, terror settled into her muscles, slowing her pace.
They couldn’t make her go somewhere, could they? Brittany Asher had been in foster care, and she’d told horror stories around the lunch table about gross foster fathers sneaking into her room in the middle of the night. Or foster mothers whose tempers would rival Quinn’s mom’s.
Quinn stopped in front of the door to the office.
She couldn’t breathe. Her eyes blurred.
She had to run. She could hide.
“Quinn?”
Quinn swiped a sleeve over her eyes. Becca’s mother stood there, signing in for a visit to the office. Quinn almost didn’t recognize her in street clothes—the woman practically lived in nursing scrubs.
And Quinn was standing here with a running nose and heaving shoulders.
Mrs. Chandler abandoned the sign-in book and put her hands on Quinn’s shoulders, rubbing gently. “Are you okay, sweetie?”
Quinn shook her head. “I don’t—I don’t—they’re going to take me—”
Then she couldn’t hold it in anymore, and she was crying on Mrs. Chandler’s shoulder, clutching at her sturdy form. This was what a mother was supposed to be like: all soft curves and gentle hands and quiet support.
“Please don’t let them take me somewhere,” Quinn said, clinging to any possibility that an adult could fix this. She knew she wasn’t making sense, but she couldn’t stop begging. “I want to go home. Will you tell them it’s okay? Tell them to let me go home. Please—”
“You can’t go home,” Mrs. Chandler said gently. “Not now, Quinn.”
Quinn cried harder. She couldn’t stop shaking. “Please.
Please help me.”
“Oh, I’m going to do that. Calm down now.” She stroked Quinn’s back. “Let’s go inside and talk about it. We’re supposed to be doing this with your guidance counselor.”
Quinn lifted her head. “What?”
Mrs. Chandler pulled tissues out of her pocket. “I called to set up the meeting. I just found out about your mother, and your brothers, and what’s been going on in that house of yours.”