7
The first thing I become aware of is the alarm blaring in my ears. After turning it off, the next moment of awareness is that it is only seven-thirty. Who wakes up at seven-thirty? Then I recall that I’m in Zander’s bedroom, and since it is a school day, I assume he wakes up at seven-thirty to begin getting Van up for the day. He said he wouldn’t be coming home last night, so I figure this is now my job.
Except, when I roll over, I find a still sleeping Zander next to me, lying on top of the covers, his face peaceful, and his body looks relaxed as he faces me on his side.
His feet are naked, but he’s otherwise dressed in dark jeans and an equally dark, long-sleeved T-shirt. I assume he wore this last night since the suit he had on during the day likely isn’t that handy for breaking into a house. From how he is, it is like he couldn’t be bothered changing clothes last night or, more likely, sometime early this morning and fell asleep on top of the covers as is.
I sit up and glance over at the bedside table, almost fearing there will be a USB sitting there. There isn’t. I guess it would be stupid to bring it back here.
Did they get it last night, or was it a failed mission? Is it missing? Could Mr. Forbes have found it and thrown it away? Or looked at it himself?
The more I think about it, the more stupid I realize it was to leave it there.
Shaking away those thoughts, I focus back on the time and the fact that I just turned his alarm off. I don’t know what time Zander came in, but I’m positive if I wake him up now, he won’t get enough sleep.
It’s time for me to help pull my weight.
A morning routine seems less daunting than last night, so I carefully get out of bed, tiptoe into the bathroom, and prepare for a new day.
Ten minutes later, I am dressed in jeans and Zander’s sweatshirt since everything else is too low cut for Van, and then I enter his bedroom to wake him up.
I’m not sure what to expect after last night, but Van acts like it never happened. He’s bright, cheery, and quick to get moving. Whether this is part of him ignoring his issues or a childlike way of bouncing back, I’m not sure.
I can’t leave the house to take Van to school. He says he catches a bus home, but Zander usually drops him off. Therefore, all I can buy Zander is an extra forty-five minutes of sleep.
When I wake him, he’s so disorientated that he jackknifes up in the bed and nearly head-butts me. He’s even more out of sorts when he looks at the clock and reads the time.
“I got Van ready for school. I just can’t drop him off,” I quickly explain as Zander rips off his shirt and the padded protective vest underneath, uncharacteristically dropping them both on the ground. It’s the first bit of mess I have seen in this house that hasn’t been contained to the kitchen sink.
It’s a miracle.
So is the image of Zander shirtless.
My breath catches in my throat as he pulls open his drawer and messes the organization there as he chaotically searches for whichever shirt he is looking for.
“Zander?” I ask since he hasn’t yet acknowledged me.
When I see him going for his jeans’ button, I quickly retreat.
I might be able to tell myself it is acceptable to ogle him shirtless—okay, fine, more than acceptable—but it is definitely creepy to watch as he completely undresses. Especially when he hasn’t even acknowledged I’m in there with him.
I leap out into the hallway and shut the door, but not before Van sees a shirtless and possibly pant-less Zander.
“What’s going on?” he asks, displaying a huge grin.
“Zander is just getting dressed so he can take you to school,” I squeak out, wishing my voice didn’t sound so high.
“Where did you sleep last night?” Van asks, his grin turning into a smirk since he has likely already guessed the answer.
“What do you mean?” I stall.
“There is no pillow or blanket on the couch. Where did you sleep?”
“I … well … I slept in Zander’s room,” I finally say, wincing when Van looks excited having this news confirmed.
“And where did he sleep?”
I swallow hard as my mouth dries. Why does it feel like I’m being interrogated? As an adult, shouldn’t I have the upper hand? Why do I need to answer any of this?
“He was out last night. Now, are you sure you got all your—”
“No, he wasn’t. I was there when he came home. Did you guys have a sleepover?” he presses.
I can’t tell if he means sleepover as in sex, or if he’s innocently meaning a sleepover, picturing pillow forts and flashlights.
“He went back out after you saw him. Now, as I was saying, have you—”
“No, he didn’t. If he did, then why is he home already? I never saw him walk back in, which means he’s been in his room this whole time I’ve been awake. Are you and my brother dating? Are you his girlfriend? Are you going to move in permanently? Will you two get married?”
My jaw drops at just how out of control this has all gotten. How did I get here? How can my day be turning into such a disaster when it’s not even eight-thirty in the morning?
“No! Van, don’t be silly. Your brother and I are just friends.” I hope I sound convincing, because I am definitely not lying.
Van’s eyes have lit up, so I don’t think there will be any dampening of it just yet.
Just great! Another way for me to disappoint him.
“Vaughn, get your coat. We’re leaving,” Zander’s voice snaps from behind me, and I quickly jump out of the way as he barrels through.
“Don’t mind him. He isn’t human until he has coffee,” Van explains on an eye roll. “You’ll learn that, though, now that you’re dating. As soon as he wakes up fully, he’ll apologize for being an asshole.”
“Vaughn, hurry the fuck up!” Zander snaps as he holds the front door open, keys in hand.
“Wow, you’re not kidding.” I glance over at the coffee maker and wonder how hard it is to work it. It’s probably best if I have one waiting for him.
“I wouldn’t touch his coffee maker. He loses his shit if it isn’t made just right.”
“Vaughn!” Zander screeches, and that gets Van moving.
“Agnes and Ava has a nice ring to it. When you have a baby, will you name him Agnes Junior?”
The door is firmly shut behind Van, and though I can’t hear whatever is said afterward, it sounds like Van is talking a million miles an hour again.
Glad to be out of that firing range, I quickly clean up the kitchen, tidy up Zander’s room, including placing his worn shirt and pants into the hamper, and hang the vest up in his closet since I’m not sure what the washing procedure is for that.
It’s rather scary that Zander had to wear such a thing last night, but thankfully, he didn’t need it, given there are no bullet holes to speak of.
Then I sit at the kitchen counter and wait for Zander to get back.
I hope I haven’t made him mad by letting him sleep in while I got Van up. Obviously, I should have given him more time to get himself a coffee.
I can’t help tapping my foot restlessly against the floor. Zander has plenty of books; they just aren’t my thing—all action and no romance. He has a laptop in his office I saw last night, but if I access it, I fear my mind will wander, and then I will log in somewhere that can be traceable back to me. This leaves me with doing a spring cleaning. However, since Zander is anal about how tidy his apartment is, I’m sure to get that wrong, as well as it being far too personal for a stranger to do. Otherwise, I have the TV and the evil couch.
My boredom might lead me to binge-watch daytime TV, something I’m not okay with. I try to resist, but I grow bored and time seems to drag.
I pick up the remote, my finger hovering over the power button, before I’m saved by the door opening.
I brace for Zander’s shitty morning mood, but find him holding a coffee already in his hand.
“Hey,” he mutters, dropping his keys on the small table by the doorway and moving over to the couch, plonking himself down next to me.
“Hi. Sorry about this morning. I should have woken you.”
“Don’t be sorry. I just got a caffeine thing. Can’t wake up properly without it. It doesn’t help that Van enjoys getting on my nerves first thing in the morning.” He takes another sip of his coffee, as if to soothe himself.
“Did he keep up his fast talking the entire way?”
“Yep. Apparently, we should call all our children Agnes, and then just place a number behind them so we can tell them apart.”
I snort at hearing that. “Geez, how many kids does he think we’re going to have?”
“Who knows? He just does it to annoy me. Knowing I didn’t have my morning coffee gave him more motivation to be irritating.”
“Again, I’m sorry.” I fidget next to him, feeling as though I failed this test or disappointed Zander somehow.
“It’s okay. I didn’t intend to come back to the apartment until it was time to get Vaughn up. I didn’t expect to tell you what our routine was.”
“But you came back early?”
“Yeah, forgot for a second you were even in my room. Sat on my bed, took my shoes off, and then you moved in your sleep. I meant to just go out onto the couch, but I didn’t see the harm in just lying down for a few minutes. Next thing I know, you’re waking me up. I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t violate your trust.” He sounds a little nervous now.
I rush to assure him it was fine. “It’s your bed, Zander. I can’t fault you for using it. And it’s fine. I wouldn’t wish your couch on anybody.” I try to lighten things up and am rewarded with his chuckle.
“So, if you came back early, does that mean things went really well? Or really bad?” I hold my breath, waiting for his answer.
“It went well for the most part. We were able to break into Forbes’ house with no issue. Found the USB immediately. Set up a couple of cameras from the street looking into Clarke’s house, but he didn’t appear to be home. If possible, I’d like to put a tracker on his car.”
I nod, not liking the reminder of Brian. I know this entire situation is a constant reminder of him, but hearing his name said out loud, even if it’s just his last name, and picturing his house as Zander speaks about it, I don’t like.
I wish I could forget him all together. In fact, I wish he could just forget me so I can go back to my life.
“Did you look at the USB?”
“We tried. It wouldn’t work on our computers. There might be an encryption or something on it. All I know is that it wouldn’t load. I left it with Jerry to look at. He’s a genius when it comes to all things electronic. He’ll figure it out.”
I nod slowly, not sure who Jerry is, other than vaguely recalling his name being mentioned during the fight between Sasha and Zander yesterday. I’m more worried that perhaps there won’t be anything on there. What if I got a dud USB? What if it didn’t copy properly?
If the USB is empty, then I will have no proof and no way to stop Brian from coming after me forever. I know he won’t stop until I’m dead. If I can’t get him arrested for his sick interests, then what the hell am I supposed to do?
“Don’t worry; Jerry is on it,” Zander reminds me when I must still look panicked. He pats my leg gently before he takes another long sip of his coffee.
“I don’t think I met Jerry yesterday. I remember you and Sasha mentioning him, though.”
“Jerry is a little odd. I’ve only met him once. The others, not at all.”
“Really?” I grab ahold of the new topic, needing to get away from talk of Brian, even if just for a moment. “How does that work? Does he come into the office after you’ve all gone home?”
“He’s never stepped foot into our offices.”
I frown, especially at seeing Zander smiling at my obvious confusion.
“I don’t get it.”
“About three years ago, I saw a woman being mugged on the street. I stopped the guy and made sure the lady was okay. She was pretty shaken up, but she wasn’t physically hurt. I stayed with her while she spoke to the police. She had no car so I took her to the station to file a report, and then she mentioned she had been on her way to get some groceries. She caught the bus everywhere, so I took her to her local store and helped her take her groceries home afterward.”
“Wow. That was nice of you.”
“I suppose.” He shrugs. “It just seemed like the right thing to do, and I had the day free, anyway. I had just started my business, and we were incredibly quiet. We had one case that was proving to be impossible. I only took it because we had nothing else. It was an embezzling case that none of us were properly qualified to do.”
“I’m not sure how this story leads to Jerry?”
“Right. So, I drop the lady off at her house, help her unpack her groceries, and then I was on my way. I only told her my name was Zander. Nothing else. I never mentioned my job or last name. Yet, Jerry found me.
“See, the lady I helped is his mom. So, when I got back to my office, I had an email waiting, and inside was all the evidence I needed to finish our case. Jerry had hacked the street cameras, saw my license plate, and then found me. From there, he found out about my business and hacked into our files to discover we were working a case. He left me a note with the evidence, saying our security was shit and that the case had been fun. Then he thanked me for helping his mom.”
“Wow, and then you just joined him up?”
“Well, at first, I would just use the email address he gave me to talk about something when I was stuck. From there, it grew until he became a full-time employee. He talks to us all through email. I think he and Sasha have the most normal discussions. They’re all used to the mysterious Jerry, so they don’t even think it’s odd now.” He smiles a little before taking another sip of his coffee.
“And you’ve only met him once? Why?”
“Jerry is a germophobe. He suffers from agoraphobia and has severe Crohn’s disease, amongst a bunch of other ailments. He doesn’t ever leave his house, and he doesn’t ever see other people. He’s a loner, and he prefers it that way.”
I can’t imagine living life like that. “Doesn’t he get lonely?”
“No. This is what he knows. I’m told, even as a kid, he preferred his own company.”
“Isn’t there something you can do to help him?”
“I am. I give him work, and he enjoys it. I’ve never given him a problem that he hasn’t been able to solve. He loves a challenge.”
I nod, hoping the USB isn’t too much of a challenge for him and that he can crack it.
“His name isn’t actually Jerry,” Zander admits after a few minutes of silence.
“What?” I gasp, feeling that was probably important to point out to begin with, along with his actual name.
“It’s an alias he uses. I have no idea what his real name is.”
“But, you said you met his mom. Couldn’t you easily find out?”
“She was his foster mom at some point. She made a real impact on her foster children. They loved her, and she loved them. She fostered close to sixty kids in her forty years. She also had kids come and go whose records aren’t likely to be found easily. I might be able to find him, but I know he doesn’t want that. If he wants to tell me his real name, then he can do that in his own time. For now, Jerry is fine.” He shrugs, giving me a little smile.
“And you trust him completely?”
“Yes.” This is said with conviction.
With him so obviously trusting Jerry, I find myself trusting him, too.
“Okay.”
“I need to go into the office today. I have some other things to clear up from other cases, a couple meetings, and I need to get some advice from the cop I know.”
“Are you sure you can trust him?”
“Not all cops are bad. Ken is definitely one of the good guys. I know Sasha gave you a brief history yesterday about us, but I bet she never mentioned Artie.”
I shake my head.
“He was one of us, lived on the other side of Sasha for a few years before they moved to a shittier part of the neighborhood. We were all still close, and Artie and I were best friends. He was brave, funny, and reckless. He always knew he wanted to be a cop like his dad. Was killed during his first day on the job. Pulled over a guy for speeding and was shot as he approached the driver’s window.”
I gasp, tears welling in my eyes for a man I don’t even know. That is so awful.
“How long ago did this happen?”
“Almost four years ago. Wrecked us all.”
I shake my head, my heart breaking for Zander who has lost so much in his life in such a short amount of time. How is he even still functioning?
Zander clears his throat, his eyes no longer on me but staring at the blank TV. “Anyway, his dad is the buddy I know. He was like a second father to us all. We can trust him.”
Now it’s my turn to offer comfort, resting my hand on his leg and gently squeezing.
It is probably wrong in this moment to notice how hard his leg is, how strong the muscles feel protruding underneath. Therefore, I quickly remove my hand before I can wonder about anything else in that region.
“How long will it take Jerry to get the USB to work?”
“Hopefully, not long.”
“Am I coming in with you today?” I might not have much to do there, but at least Sasha will keep me entertained.
“I think, until we have a better idea of what is going on, you should stay here. The less often you’re outside this apartment, the less likely anyone is going to find you.”
“Right …” I try not to sound as forlorn as I feel as I glance down at the remote just to my side, coming to terms with the fact that I’m about to get well-acquainted with daytime TV.
“I think you mentioned that you usually do office temp work, but you also run your own business where you design and create webpages?”
“Yeah.” I think of all the business I’m probably missing by not being able to check my emails or answer my phone. Being reliable and quick is how you stay alive in both of those fields. Everything I have built up will be wasted now. I will have to start over when I get my life back.
If I get my life back.
“Well, I know I won’t have the programs you have, but I thought, while you’re stuck here, maybe you can take a look at our website. We never really took much care when we designed it. Just put the logo on and made sure our information was there. Think you could make some notes on how to improve it?”
I grin up at him, happy when he smiles down at me. I know this is probably a pity job, but who cares? It is almost like I can do him a favor while he’s helping me out.
Sure, it’s like giving a man a free brick after he’s built your entire house, but it is still better than nothing.
“I’d love to do that!”
“Great. I’ll get you some paper, pencils, and my laptop. The office is too cramped to work in there, but you can make yourself at home on the dining room table.”
I nod eagerly, wanting to get on with it.
As soon as Zander leaves for work, I begin writing down ideas as I glance at the plain, boring design they have set up.
For the first time in days, I find myself in a familiar routine. It feels great and relaxing, and I smile the entire time I work. Plus, I manage to avoid daytime TV, so it’s a success.
***
I end up spending the next week plotting ideas and adjusting what I can online. I design a new logo, new branding, and a whole new color scheme for the site. There is no menu bar, so I add that. Zander also gives me a few previous clients for me to email to see if they are willing to write any testimonies.
After a week, I think I have done my best work. I could do a little better if I had my programs, but I can always fix them later. I have overthought every single thing, down to the font size and style, and am happy when Zander appears impressed with the final result.
During this week, we have kept the same new routine of sleeping in bed together. I’m always under the covers, while Zander drapes his own blanket over himself as he sleeps on top. I’m not sure why he is so determined on this since I would have immediately caved if he asked to sleep under the covers with me, but maybe that right there is why.
Right now, I’m a job, and I’m good with Van. Zander even said it himself. I helped Van to open up. He is interacting with the world again, and Zander obviously wants to keep that going.
I have tucked him in every night since his freak out over the photos. It seems to soothe Van, and part of me likes feeling needed.
We haven’t heard a peep out of Brian, and I have relaxed enough in Zander and Van’s place that I feel completely safe and comfortable.
Unfortunately, after a week of waiting for Jerry to figure out why they can’t play the videos on the USB, he finally figures it out. And then Zander’s mood plummets. Even Van notices the frostiness and ignores a few of the “Vaughns” he is called in order to keep the peace.
I feel even more horrible that I have subjected Zander and his team to this. It must be affecting them all. I only saw a little of one clip; what other horrors are on there? Declan mentioned rape and murder, as well as torture, when we had our first meeting. Is that what else they have been forced to watch?
After two days of Zander viewing the videos and searching for faces, locations, or any indication on how old the videos are, he finds something he thinks I should know about. And I’m sure I don’t want to know whatever it is.
“Ava,” Zander calls out softly.
I’m already in bed, the lights out, and part of me wants to fake sleep.
Sometimes in life, you get a gut feeling that something you are about to hear or do will be life changing. I knew letting that door close in the stairwell on me the first night I spent here was life changing. And so, when Zander gets home and tells me he needs to speak to me in private as soon as Van is asleep, I know this will be one of those times, too. And apparently, I am a coward, because I avoid Zander as much as possible as soon as I realize this.
I stayed close to Van, making sure I was showered and ready for bed while he was still awake. Then, when Zander put him to bed, me spinelessly not tucking him in, I snuck into his bedroom and turned off all the lights before diving under the covers to fake being asleep.
It is incredibly chicken of me, but my stomach churns and my blood pumps through my body like a booming pulse on a fast drumbeat. It vibrates through my body, setting a dooming tempo.
“Ava, I know you’re awake.” Zander sits on the bed, the mattress dipping, and I debate whether to answer him or not. “I know you’re scared, but I need to tell you something, and I need you to be strong.”
I squeeze my eyes closed, hating how calm and understanding he sounds. Then I take a deep breath and force myself to sit up.
Zander turns on the side light as I try to prepare myself for whatever he’s about to say. Maybe it won’t be as bad as I think.
“Give me your hands.” He motions for me to sit in front of him.
His legs are spread out wide as he leans back against the headboard. Perhaps if my mind wasn’t in a panic, I might have noticed how odd this position is.
“What?”
“Just trust me,” he says, holding out both his hands until I place mine in his, sitting between his open legs, facing him. I had to move out from the blankets to rest on top with him, but there is still a body of space between us.
As his hands engulf mine, regardless of whether this is his intention, I feel warmth and comfort from his hold. I never thought I had small hands—they seem average to me—but in Zander’s grip, they feel small.
He holds my gaze, and I watch him ready himself to tell me whatever he needs to say. As much as I don’t want to hear it, I can easily see he has no wish to tell me this news, either.
“We are still analyzing the video. There are hundreds on there, all differing lengths and quality. We want to be able to have concrete evidence when we hand this up the chain. I want to have at least some of those women identified, I want some of the perpetrators known, and I want things to begin to happen immediately. I want arrests made, investigations opened, and I want this already blown wide open so no one can put a lid on it.”
I nod, carefully agreeing, not sure where the bad news lies.
“And so far, we’ve been able to identify three of the women. It’s not many, but unfortunately, not many of these women have people who care enough about them to file a missing person’s report. The ones who do, they have been missing a long time. Their photos aren’t easy to match up.”
“Okay …” I tentatively say, feeling sad for those women who life seems to have given up on them.
“And the men who are hurting them are rarely seen on screen. The videos are focused on the victims and their pain and injuries. But we have gotten a few breaks. We have been able to get footage of eight separate men. We’re running their faces now to see if we can match them up.”
“That’s good, right?”
“It is … but it’s also not,” he answers cryptically.
“Why?”
“Because …” He takes a deep breath, his entire attention on me as he takes another long breath before he rocks my world. “One of the men is Clarke.”
My mouth drops open, my heart stops beating altogether, and black spots appear before my eyes.
“Ava!” Zander growls, his grip tightening around my hands as I struggle to get free from him.
What the hell? Brian tortured women? He … He raped and murdered them?
I feel sick, my stomach roils, my body flushes from hot to freezing cold in seconds, and I feel dizzy as my head and body violently shake.
Who is making that awful sound? It hurts my ears, stabbing my eardrums. Finally, black spots grow so large I can’t see anything else. And then I find myself in Zander’s lap, his arms wrapped tightly around me, his body rocking mine gently, and I hear the thumping of his heart heavy against his chest.
I still try to get free, needing to get out of here. Needing to be away from this stifling room, this room where the words still echo around me that Brian is not just some sicko who enjoys watching women being hurt. He is someone who likes to inflict the pain himself.
Maybe it isn’t a big leap, but the difference for me is the size of a canyon.
“I … I dated … I let him into my life … He …” I break down, sobbing.
Zander holds me, letting me ride my tears out until I just have sniffles left. His shirt is drenched, but he doesn’t complain.
“None of this is your fault. Clarke is an expert in keeping his sick feelings hidden. He needed you to help with his cover as just a normal, regular guy. He would have taken extra steps to make sure you never saw that side of him.”
I suspected this earlier, but to know he needed me to cover up the fact that he was committing these acts breaks my heart all over again. Then there is the fact that, not only did I not see the monster within the man I dated, but I also helped him stay under the radar to keep doing awful things?
“What did you see him doing?” I ask, not really wanting to know the answer yet feeling I deserve those sins on my conscience.
“I’m never going to share that with you, but he was in more than one. Some looked old; some newer.”
I bury my face back against Zander’s chest, feeling more like a child wanting to hide from a nightmare than a grown woman.
“How did this happen? He seemed so normal. I … Why couldn’t I see this?”
“Like I said, he’s an expert at hiding that side of himself,” Zander calmly answers.
“But I dated him for eighteen months!” I yell. Thankfully, it comes out muffled since I’m still against Zander’s shirt. I need to be mindful of Van sleeping.
“Doesn’t matter. You could have been married to him for twenty years, and if he didn’t want you to know, you wouldn’t have known.”
“But I did know he was away a lot. I did know he was distant. I knew he never shared most of himself with me. I knew all of that,” I reprimand myself.
“And I bet you figured most of that came with his job. He couldn’t discuss his work, so of course there would be gaps in his stories, gaps in the person he showed you. That is not your fault.” He says all this as he holds me tighter.
“But maybe if I had asked more questions—”
“Then he would have dumped you before you could get too close to the answer. He would have found someone else to maintain his cover, and he would have continued to be a monster. Because of you, we have proof of what he has done. No matter how this case goes, no matter how long this takes, Clarke is going down. He will never be able to harm another person again.”
Zander’s words finally sink in. It doesn’t ease the guilt and horror I feel, but it does make me feel a little better that Brian will be stopped.
This is all over for him.
I nod, taking a deep breath and embracing Zander’s scent that surrounds me.
I always feel safe with Zander, and I know I can trust him. I already feel like I know him better after a little over a week than how much I knew Brian after a year and a half. How sad is that?
Zander shuffles us until he’s leaning flat on his back with me curled at his side. We stay like this for a while.
When my eyelids begin to feel heavy, I know I should move. However, I wait a few more minutes, soaking up his embrace before I finally lean away from him. I only get a short distance before he pulls me back, though.
“Just stay a little while longer,” he begs.
I’m not sure if this is for me or him, but I take the comfort he offers and we remain in this position for the rest of the night.
The last thing I remember before sleep finally pulls me under is his steady heartbeat against my ear, his body curled around my own, and his lips gently brushing my hair.
If only we could have stayed in this bubble forever. But, of course Brian isn’t done with me yet.
Maybe he never will be.