by Dee, Cara
“The fire has to start right here.” Darius held on, even as Warren stilled. “If it starts elsewhere, the likelier cause of death will be smoke inhalation.” And they wouldn’t find many traces of that in Warren’s lungs… “We’ll make sure to drench him thoroughly. He should be burnt to a crisp.”
Gray eased back on his heels and peered around them. Every time Darius shared bits and pieces of his analytical mind, Gray’s eyes opened another millimeter. He studied the interior of the house and didn’t see a problem in here. Maybe the exterior wouldn’t get very damaged, despite its bad condition; it was still stucco, which wouldn’t burn. But the inside…the wallpaper, the wood paneling, the furniture… They sat in a virtual tinderbox.
He remembered when they renovated the inn back home too. They had to change the insulation. Gray doubted anything in this house was less than twenty years old, meaning the insulation was probably flammable too.
Darius felt Warren’s pulse and checked his watch. “Time of death… Not a minute too soon.” Then he mirrored Gray’s position and sat back on his heels. “You said Jackie wanted them both dead before he came into the house again?”
Gray nodded. “Why? Does it mess with the plan?”
“Not really, but we’ll change the story a little.” Darius stood up and patted his pockets. “If we can’t let Buck burn alive, we’ll make it look like Warren shot him.”
Gray frowned and followed him out onto the porch, where Darius lit up a smoke and took a drag. “Would he tape his brother to a chair if he was just gonna shoot him?”
Darius’s mouth twitched, his cigarette dangling at the corner. “I don’t reckon the detectives will expect rhyme or reason from a sick fuck like Warren.”
Valid argument, Gray figured. And once the investigators had mapped out Warren’s life, a sick fuck was exactly what they’d find.
“It’s kinda exhausting having to think about all this,” Gray admitted.
Darius let out a soft laugh and clapped Gray’s shoulder. “Good thing we’re not turning this into a career for you, ’cause taking a million scenarios into consideration is half the job.”
Gray smiled ruefully and looked down at the floorboards of the small porch. Fuck, this place was a deathtrap falling apart. Part of the poorly constructed porch had been attacked by termites. Darius had made a comment about it earlier. It took an idiot to build with wood in the desert. Gray was more concerned about the rusty nails poking out here and there.
“How are you coping with everything?” Darius stubbed out his smoke and pocketed the end. “You seem to be handling things well.”
Gray thought back on a lecture he’d been to in Seattle once. As part of research for a paper, he’d listened for two hours as an ex-convict, a police officer, and a former doctor spoke of the experience of taking a life. For the doctor, it had been an accident. For the police officer, it’d been during a robbery. For the ex-convict…well. But they all talked about guilt and a heavy conscience, something Gray hadn’t questioned back then. Because what the fuck did he know at that time? Now was different.
“My conscience is clear,” he said. “That’s what matters. I can process the rest when I get home.”
Maybe one had to be pushed to the extremes like Gray had—or seen enough evils in the world like Darius had… Either way, there would be no lost sleep over the lives they’d taken.
“Good. I’m proud of you.” Darius pressed a kiss to the side of Gray’s head on his way back inside. “Can you check the highway? Let me know when the road’s empty, and I’ll end Buck with his own gun.”
“Yessir.”
Gray and Darius spent the next couple hours erasing any traces of their ever having been in the house—and around the property. Darius went so far as to clear the tracks of the ATV and their boots in the sand around the backyard and a fair bit into the desert.
Jackie sat on the porch with a blanket around himself.
Darius had instructed him not to venture farther, just in case passing vehicles spotted him.
The sun dropped lower and lower.
In the distance, a pack of coyotes filled the silence with their howling.
“I feel bad just sitting here, Gray,” Jackie called into the house. “I know the plan by heart. I’ve rehearsed it to myself for hours. There’s gotta be something else I can do to help.”
Gray left the kitchen with some snacks from Warren’s grocery run and passed his body on the living room floor. Darius had covered it with a blanket for Jackie’s sake.
“You’ll have a big responsibility soon enough.” Gray set the tray on the table and inspected one of the rickety lawn chairs before taking a seat. He didn’t need to sit on a rusty wire or get bitten by a black widow. “Come get something to eat, buddy.” He didn’t want Jackie on the floor anymore. He could get hurt.
Darius joined them soon after, and he squatted down casually and lit up a smoke.
“I can get you a chair in the kitchen,” Gray offered.
Darius waved it off and slid his gaze to Jackie. “How you feelin’, kid?”
Jackie shrugged slightly, munching on a piece of bread. “I’m kinda blank at the moment. More focused on you two. The alibi thing—Gray told me you have to get home quick.”
“Gray and I will be fine, regardless,” Darius assured. “That said, the timing is a bit up to you. We will prepare everything down to the last second before we leave, and then your only job will be to throw a lit match into the living room.”
“And make sure you don’t stumble over this death porch,” Gray said pointedly. “The fire’s gonna spread quickly.”
Darius kept his contemplative stare fixed on Jackie. “What you have to decide is how long you believe you can stay here—by yourself—before starting the fire.” He paused. “Gray and I will be here throughout the night, so you don’t have to worry about being alone in the dark.”
Maybe he’d noticed fear or worry in Jackie, because once Darius told him that last part, even Gray could see how Jackie lost some tension in his shoulders.
“Let me get this straight,” Jackie said hesitantly. “The time between your departure and my setting this place on fire is what you have to work with—to get home, I mean.”
“Well…” Not exactly. Gray interjected, “If we push it, we can be home in twenty-four hours, but we don’t need that long. As a precaution, we only want to create some distance between us and here.”
“I understand.” Jackie set down his bread, thinking. “If I can sit out here and not have to go inside, I can wait until tomorrow evening.”
It was Gray’s turn to hesitate. He knew how fragile his mind had been right after he’d been rescued, and he didn’t think it was wise to leave Jackie alone for an entire day. It meant several hours where a single breakdown could have horrific ramifications.
Darius appeared to be on the same page. “I think I know how we can solve this.” He rose from his position and pocketed his smoke. “I’ll be right back. I’m gonna make a quick call.”
“Bring a chair with you,” Gray requested.
Only Darius could sleep that night. Completely unaffected, he got five hours of sleep on the couch in the living room, about four feet from a dead man.
Gray and Jackie stayed on the porch and drank too much soda, listened to the coyotes, and talked.
It’d finally dawned on Jackie that he was free. That he was going home. And he wouldn’t stop talking about everything he wanted to do, which mainly consisted of spending more time with his mom, going to more games with his dad, and perhaps not annoying his sisters as much as he used to.
The roller coaster had begun. Jackie could chuckle his way through a funny memory about his sisters, only to cry five minutes later with how much he missed them.
Gray did what he could to comfort, reassure, and, most importantly, prepare Jackie. It was gonna be a rough few months ahead of him, and he couldn’t stress enough the importance of taking it slowly. Then he told Jackie about the period when Gray l
eft his family behind because he felt out of place. Like he didn’t belong anywhere.
“But it gets better,” he promised. “You’ll get through the anger, the grief, the pain. All of it. And you won’t be alone.”
Jackie managed a wobbly smile. “You and your friend are my heroes forever. I swear.”
“Just…don’t quit, okay?” That was Gray’s biggest fear. “If you crash sometime—if you feel like there’s no point in anything—call us first. Promise me that.”
Jackie sobered and nodded. “I promise.”
Good.
Darius woke up shortly after, an hour or so before the sun would rise, and he stepped out onto the porch as he stretched his arms over his head and yawned.
“Mornin’.”
Fucking hell, he was hot.
“Good morning.” Gray found it amusing how freaking unruffled that man could be. Could there ever be a crisis that made him panic?
“Y’all ready for today?” Darius’s question was mostly aimed at Jackie. Gray’s work was pretty much done, and he’d hopefully get some sleep when they began their journey back to Washington.
“Yes, sir,” Jackie replied. “Would you like me to give you a rundown of everything? Gray helped me memorize all the steps, including the changes.”
Maybe it was weird for Gray to feel a little proud of Jackie, but nevertheless. The guy was handling this well, he thought. Even after Darius had gotten off the phone with Ryan and revealed some last-minute tweaks.
One of the corners of Darius’s mouth curled up, and he came over to the table and took a seat in the empty chair. “I think that sounds like a good way to start the day. Hit me with it, kid.”
Jackie sat a little straighter. “After you leave in a couple hours, I will wait out here all day. If I get anxious, I will remind myself that your brother is watching over me, and he will report to you.”
Gray slid an apple across the table to Darius. He needed to eat.
“Then when it gets dark,” Jackie continued, “I will go out front—and stay hidden—and I will check for cars. When I don’t see any, I’ll start the fire. Then I will hurry to the driveway where you will have left a rag soaked in gasoline that I will rub over my arms and stuff. And before I leave, I will make sure it gets thrown into the fire too.” He took a breath, all while Darius’s eyes warmed up. He was impressed too. “I’ll go that way—” Jackie pointed to the west, toward Twentynine Palms “—and if I get scared, I’ll remind myself again that your brother is watching me from a distance the whole way, and when I get to the town, I will stop someone and ask for help.”
Darius didn’t hide his approval. “You’ll handle this great. And remember you can signal to my brother if it’s an emergency. Just show a thumbs down toward the mountains back there, and he’ll be here.”
The gratitude Gray felt for the Quinn brothers hit him with indescribable force, and it wasn’t the first time. Just the fact that they could call each other on such short notice and the other would come running… Gray vowed to himself to nurture his relationships with his own brothers more when he got home.
Ryan had merely asked when and where. To which Darius had given him the coordinates and some instructions.
This was Darius’s compromise. This was how he’d feel better leaving Jackie alone for so long, by knowing that he wasn’t truly alone at all.
Gray refused to show how nervous he was before they left.
While Darius was helping Jackie discard some strips of duct tape on the porch and in the driveway—to make it look like the guy had gotten free from his restraints—Gray brought water, one soda, a couple old magazines, and some snacks to the table on the porch. He reminded Jackie to throw it all in the living room later.
This was it. Gray and Darius had done their part. Now it was up to Jackie.
Jesus Christ, the drive today was gonna be hellish. Would Gray even be able to get any rest? It sounded more likely that he’d sit next to Darius and fret his ass off.
Jackie would probably not be able to sleep either. As tired as he clearly was, he was also wired and antsy. He would see his family tomorrow. It kept him going.
Wanting to avoid the body in the living room, Jackie went around the house and in through the front door when he went to the bathroom a final time. And when he came out again, they were officially done.
Darius grabbed the spare tank for the ATV and doused the interior of the house in gasoline. Warren’s body was soaked. Every location that could hold traces of fingerprints—drenched. The hatch in the floor, doorknobs, the kitchen, parts of the porch, the bathroom, and every spot was connected by a trail of gasoline to ensure the fire would spread quickly.
“Your recovery’s gonna be a hellish fucking journey,” Gray told Jackie, “but after everything you’ve been through—what we have been through—there is no stopping. Am I right?”
Jackie exhaled shakily and nodded. “I’ll be strong.”
“I know you will.” Gray pulled Jackie in for a hug. “Remember, even when you feel weak and the grief is threatening to take over, you’re strong as long as you keep breathing. Keep fighting. And call me whenever—day or night. I’ll send a request on Facebook so you can get my number. We’ll stay in touch.”
“Okay. Thank you.” Jackie sniffled and hugged him harder. “Thank you, Gray. Thank you. Thank you for finding me.”
Gray’s throat closed up, and he couldn’t form a single word. All he could do was tighten the hug a bit more before it was time to let go.
Darius got a similar treatment when he exited the house with the empty spare tank.
Jackie hugged him tightly and thanked him over and over.
A couple minutes later, Gray and Darius were on the ATV, driving away from the house.
It felt so goddamn wrong, but it was the nerves talking.
Jackie could reach out to Ryan if things got too bad, Gray reminded himself.
They cleared their campsite on autopilot, both stuck in their heads.
Darius loaded the ATV onto the truck.
Gray packed up their tent and gear.
When that dude, that fuckin’ Hank, showed up, Gray almost snapped at him. He didn’t have the fucking patience for any fucking politeness or fucking chitchat—fuck. He took a breath. Thank goodness for Darius. Darius pulled it off. The bullshit fell out of his mouth naturally. There was a story about how Gray—or “Chris”—had twisted his ankle at Skull Rock. Another story of how they were chased by bees in the cactus garden, which Darius and Hank chuckled heartily at. And in return, Hank gave a play-by-play of everything he’d done with the family.
“So, you’re off home, eh?” Hank asked.
“Nah, not yet,” Darius answered. “Kid’s not heading back to school until Monday, so we thought we’d do one night in Big Bear before I hand him over to his folks.”
“Ah—beautiful up there.” Hank nodded approvingly. “Well, it was great meetin’ ya, James.”
“You too, Hank. You too. Shame we didn’t have time for that beer.”
Urgh.
After throwing the last of their things in the back seat, Gray got in the passenger’s seat and plugged in his phone charger. Three percent battery left. Darius better get here and start the car. Gray wanted to get out of the park, out of the fucking desert. He wanted to see the bars on his phone showing he had service. He wanted a report from Ryan. He wanted… He wanted to get home to the boys.
Thankfully, Darius didn’t linger. The second he got in behind the wheel, it was clear he was on a mission. It would be a race against time itself to get home as soon as possible.
“Are you gonna miss Hank?”
Darius snorted and turned onto the main road leading out of the national park. “When he wrapped up one story and began another in the same breath, I thought I was gonna crush my molars.”
A surprised laugh burst out between Gray’s lips. “You’re a great actor. I couldn’t tell.”
Darius hummed and placed his phone on his thigh. He was
distracted too. “Ry should be in place now.”
Gray tried to get comfortable but knew it wouldn’t happen. Not yet. The discomfort was hardly in the seat. Instead, he watched the road ahead of them. He felt Darius’s impatience with each vehicle that drove too slowly, even though it was they who drove too fast.
Come on, come on, come on.
It felt like half a lifetime before Darius’s phone vibrated with a message, and he instantly tossed it to Gray. “Read it before I lose service. It’s gonna be spotty for a while.”
Gray brought the screen to life and checked the preview.
In position. SOPS reading. Hourly reports starting now.
“What does SOPS mean?” Gray spelled out the abbreviation. “SOPS reading. Ryan’s in place. He’s gonna report every hour.”
“Good,” Darius replied. “Jackie is the SOPS. Subject of protective surveillance.”
Oh. Good. Okay, good. Things were going okay.
“I’m glad.” Gray set the phone in one of the wells between them. “You’re my SOPS, by the way.”
Darius grinned quickly, concentrating on passing cars on the road, and gave Gray’s knee a squeeze. “You’re mine.”
On every level.
Gray woke up slowly, first registering the faint sound of the radio, then the movement of the truck, Darius’s humming… They were on the road, and Jackie—
“Jackie!” He sat straight up in the seat and warred against the cobwebs of sleep and disorientation. “Is he okay? How long was I out?”
“Easy, baby. Everything’s going well.” Darius unlocked his phone and extended it to Gray. “Read for yourself.”
Gray scrubbed at his face first, and he couldn’t help but cringe. He didn’t smell great, to put it mildly. They hadn’t showered since they’d left Washington. Then, with the phone in his hand, his eyebrows went higher and higher when he saw the list of updates from Ryan.
“You were asleep for eight hours,” Darius said.
“Jesus.”
SOPS resting.
SOPS eating.
