by AJ Lange
Dom frowned, perplexed. “I don’t understand. What does it mean?”
Matt looked from one man to the other, these two, his oldest friends. One, more precious to him than breath itself. His eyes were filled with remorse when he spoke. “He’s buried her. She’s—” Matt swallowed. “He buried her alive.”
Dom straightened. “Oh my God.” He raked his hands through his hair. “Gavin,” he pleaded, unable to go on.
“Matt, what else,” Gavin urged, the detective taking over.
“I know where she is,” Matt said quietly. “We need to hurry.”
Antonia looked out of her kitchen window, sentimental gaze falling on the ancient metal swing set, remembering three little boys, and occasionally a little blonde girl, filling the yard, her house, with joy and laughter. A hand on her waist startled her.
“You okay, babe?” Angelo dropped a kiss to her shoulder before moving to the sink and turning on the tap, one finger in the stream to judge the temperature before filling his mug.
Antonia sighed sadly. “Thinking about the boys.”
“Gavin has Matt now,” Angelo reminded her gently. “And when they get back, they’ll find Gina.”
Antonia smiled at him.
“What?”
“Since when are you such an optimist?” She questioned lightly, loving the way his dark eyes sparkled in the overhead light.
Angelo rolled his eyes and his voice turned gruff and grouchy, a sure sign he was more affected than he felt comfortable expressing. “I always catch hell for being the DeLuca with all the common sense.” He reached for her and she stepped into his embrace willingly.
“She’s going to be okay,” she whispered against his chest.
“She’s going to be okay.” Angelo reached down to pat her butt and Antonia laughed, swatting his hands away.
“Go on and watch your cop show,” she said, pushing him toward the door separating the kitchen and living room. “I’ll start dinner.”
They were both trying to maintain normalcy, faced with Gina’s disappearance, but it was hard. They had hovered at the police station until Bud had ordered them home, “Go have some goddamn dinner like normal people, for the love of Christ.”
She found herself back at the window while she waited for the microwave to thaw the chicken she had forgotten to lay out earlier. Her eyes were drawn to the far northwest corner of the yard, where it ended in a small wooded grove. On the other side of those woods, the Laurel house had once stood.
She remembered the small, dark-haired boy who used to traverse those woods almost every night, alone in the dark, to sleep upstairs, or sometimes in her lap on the sofa. She thought about Matt’s big blue eyes, how sad they had been at five, how they had grown warmer, more trusting, the more time he spent with them. How fiercely she had loved him, the boy she had not birthed.
She had failed him. In so many ways Antonia knew she had failed Matthew, and for the rest of her life she would wonder if she had done the right thing, allowing him to remain in that household. She had selfishly clung to Isaiah’s promise that he wouldn’t take him away, that he would permit Matt’s place in the DeLuca household. But she had never quite understood the price.
She wondered now if Gina’s life was the price.
She had only called child protective services once. Perhaps it had been foolhardy, Lord knew it had done little good; they had made a perfunctory visit and thanked her for her report before disappearing into that bright fall day, never to return.
Matt had been ten, and Antonia had been inconsolable, more lost than even Gavin, when Matt had vanished for forty-eight hours after CPS was gone.
When he appeared on her steps, disheveled and hollow, weary and weak, it was all Antonia could do not to kill Isaiah herself. She and Matt had forged an even stronger bond that night, a silent promise while she held him close and read his favorite book: no matter what, she would never knowingly put him in jeopardy again. She would protect him, however she could.
As much as she didn’t understand why, she knew Isaiah wanted Matt to have this, to have Gavin and Antonia and the family experience they provided. It had sickened her, because she had had a sinking feeling that it was because he wanted to rip it all away when Matt least expected it, was least equipped to deal with it. At the same time, she couldn’t deny them all the chance to be together.
Years later, Antonia would find herself standing in a long, marble-edged corridor at the county courthouse, facing the dark-haired boy turned handsome stranger, still fighting to keep them all together.
“Antonia,” Matt had breathed, voice shaking. “What are you doing here?” He had been hiding in the restroom, unable to shake a gloomy sense of foreboding, a feeling not exactly conducive to a happy wedding day. When he had glanced up and found Antonia DeLuca waiting in the hall, his heart had stopped.
She walked swiftly to him, pulling him close. “Matty.”
They stood in the hall, wrapped around each other, clinging tightly.
When she leaned away, her green eyes were sad and wet. “Don’t do this.”
Matt tensed. He dropped his hands from her waist. “Antonia—” he began.
“It will kill him.” Her voice was quiet, resolute.
Matt blinked. Neither moved for a long moment.
Matt was the first to look away. “I,” he hesitated, steeling his jaw. “It won’t.”
“It will,” Antonia urged, reaching up to turn his chin back to her. “Gavin loves you, baby. He’s never loved anything more in his life. Don’t break him this way.”
Matt could feel the tears welling behind his lids, burning for release. He withheld the urge to bury his face in her soft neck and let her soothe away his troubles, ease away his fears.
She had always been so fucking good at that.
“I can’t,” he whispered sadly. “I love Gavin, God, you, of all people, know I’m literally no one if not the guy in love with Gavin fucking DeLuca.” He spun away from her in frustration.
“You’re more than that, Matt.” Antonia’s voice was gentle, unyielding. “You’re my son, as much as Gavin. And you have both done terrible, horrible things to one another.” She laid a cool hand at the back of his neck and Matt closed his eyes.
He wondered if she knew just how horrible. Marrying Leanne would not erase the visage burned into his skull of Nikki’s naked form hovering over Gavin. Nothing would. God knew Matt had already tried plenty.
But Nikki had suffered, undeservedly so, a victim in the end, as much as Gavin or Matt. And now he wanted peace. Empty, blessed peace. He could have that with Leanne.
Because Gavin would never forgive him, and maybe Matt could finally let him go.
“Sometimes the heart lashes out the hardest when it’s most fearful,” Antonia said quietly, as if she could read his thoughts.
Matt concentrated on simply breathing until he felt in control of his emotions, of his heart. He turned and faced her, realizing sadly that he would probably never see her again.
“Thank you for being the mother I never had.”
“Matt—”
He cut her off, laying a finger on her lips. “But I can never be with Gavin again.”
“Matt, please,” Antonia urged, pulling him to her.
Matt allowed it, relished the warm strength of her arms one more time before pushing her gently away.
“You know my heart, probably better than I do,” he said sadly. “But all I want now is to be free. Sometimes it feels like I’ve spent the past twenty-odd years chasing Gavin, waiting for him to notice me, running from the things he makes me feel. The things he makes me fear. I’m tired. I want to be numb.”
“That’s not a recipe for a happy life, sweetheart,” she whispered sadly, hand against his cheek.
Matt turned his face so he could kiss her palm. “No, but it’s the only one I can live anymore. Goodbye, Antonia.”
He didn’t look back when he walked away. He didn’t look back because he knew if he did, he would falt
er, stumble, find himself sucked into the vortex that was Gavin.
Antonia had watched him go, devastated in the knowledge that she had failed Matt once more, and that with him, he took her son’s heart.
The beep of the microwave broke into her memories, and Antonia welcomed the distraction, peeling away the plastic covering, pots and pans clanging as she arranged them on the stove.
She never heard the figure slip through the back door behind her, the fine, sharp prick of a needle to her neck the only warning before her world faded to black.
Gavin arranged the sling around Matt’s arm, nabbed from an EMT on standby in the parking lot, the canvas wrap offering little true protection for his injured shoulder. He grumbled under his breath.
“What was that?” Matt asked, amused. “And this is just going to be in the way, incidentally, if I need to protect myself. Or you.”
“You’re not going to be protecting jack shit,” Gavin said gruffly, giving him a hard look, struggling to force the white nylon webbing through the tiny metal loops of the buckle. “You’re staying behind me or Dom or you’re hitting the deck, understand?”
They were standing in the street in front of the precinct, Burke barking orders and Dom fidgeting alongside MaryBeth as she gave him a pep talk.
“Gavin.” Dom held up the keys.
“Ready,” Gavin called. He blinked down at Matt, at a sudden loss for words.
“I know,” Matt replied somberly, reaching up with his good hand to squeeze Gavin’s fingers.
Gavin drove, Matt choosing the backseat to allow Dom to sit in the front. Matt had hastily drawn a map to a tract of land outside of Parkville where his father had liked to ‘lay his angels to rest’ when he was finished with them. He had felt Gavin’s eyes on him while he wrote out the directions for Burke and the officers who would accompany them. He knew there would be questions later, hard questions, but he was no longer afraid of answering them. Whatever else happened, Matt had stopped running from his past and was ready to right the wrongs he had witnessed, things he had hidden from since childhood.
“How long since you’ve been there,” Dom asked, nervously turning his cell phone over in his hands.
Matt cleared his throat. “Sixteen,” he managed to say around the knot in his throat. “I was sixteen.”
“And you’re sure? Positive that’s where he’d take her?” This was from Gavin, and Matt met his eyes in the rearview mirror.
“I’m sure.”
“You’re hiding something.” Gavin’s voice was hard.
“Not hiding, just,” Matt sighed, relenting. “The poem. I know it.”
“You said that before.” Dom turned in his seat. “What does it mean?”
“Not what it means, it’s where I’ve seen it. It’s Micah. That poem was for me, because he knew I would recognize it.”
“What did he do?” Gavin asked, barely disguised fury in his voice.
Matt took a deep breath. This wouldn’t be easy for either of his friends to hear, but the poem likely meant that Gina was still alive. “He buried me. When I was ten.”
“Oh my God,” Dom breathed. “Matt.”
Matt shook his head, stopping him, needing to finish. “He made me go with him,” he paused, swallowing. “To get rid of one of the girls. When we got there, there were two graves ready. He had already been preparing.”
Matt looked out at the field rushing past in the gathering dusk, the sky pinkening on the horizon, a beautiful end to a wretched day. He prayed they had something to celebrate before night fell.
“I knew. The minute I saw it, I knew,” he pressed his lips tightly together. “They were pissed. Your mom had called CPS that week, remember?”
Gavin remembered. Matt had disappeared for two days.
Two days.
Gavin had never wanted to kill anyone more than he wanted to right this moment. He sent up a little prayer of his own, that Micah himself would be waiting at the end of this road. Gavin had a score to settle.
“When he shoved me in, he tossed a flashlight in before he dropped the lid in place. He had written that poem on the underside. It was the only thing I had to look at until they dug me up.”
“I’m sorry, Matt,” Dom said from the front seat, his voice shaking, tremulous. “I’m so sorry we never knew.”
Matt looked at him sharply. “Don’t apologize. Don’t lose one ounce of anger or hatred or rage, Dom. It’s the only thing that will get you through this.”
Dom hesitated. “And tomorrow?”
Matt’s mouth lifted in the ghost of a smile. “Tomorrow we never look back again.”
“Except for the sexy parts,” Gavin threw in after a quiet mile.
“Gavin,” Dom groaned, laughing in spite of himself.
Matt chuckled and reached over the seat to squeeze Gavin’s shoulder, grateful for the levity. “Except for the sexy parts,” he agreed.
Gavin’s phone chirped. “DeLuca.”
He swerved, slamming on the brakes.
“Gav,” Dom exclaimed, swinging hard against the passenger door. “Gavin, what is it?”
“Mom?”
The two passengers in the car froze.
“Gavin?” Antonia’s voice was shaky, tearful. “Gavin—”
Gavin’s recoiled when a silky voice came on the line. “Gavin DeLuca. It’s certainly been a while.”
“Micah,” Gavin ground out. “Where is she, you son of a bitch?”
Dom was gesturing frantically, ripping into the glove box scrambling for a pen or pencil and paper.
“Here’s what you’re going to do, Gavin,” Micah said smoothly. “You’re going to get out of whatever car you’re in and send Matt and your brother on their way to save the lovely Gina. You find other transportation. Alone. Turn back toward the city. I’ll call you in five minutes.” The line went dead.
Gavin unclipped his seatbelt and threw open the door, running for the nearest patrol car. They had all slammed to a stop, surrounded them on the country road. Dom and Matt were on his heels, frantic.
“Gavin, wait! What’s going on?”
“He has mom, I have five minutes to get turned around.” Gavin yanked open the driver’s door, ignoring the pissed expression of the officer inside. “Get out,” he barked.
“I’m coming with you,” Matt said resolutely.
“No!” Gavin scraped his palm across his mouth. “He said alone.”
“Fuck him,” Matt said, stepping too close, breath hot on Gavin’s face. “It’s a trick.”
“Gina,” Gavin reminded him quietly. “You have to go with Dom. You’re the only one who can.” He looked back down at the officer waiting in the seat of the patrol car. “Get. Out.”
The officer rolled his eyes and climbed from the car. “Douchebag,” he muttered as he elbowed past them.
“Go with Dom,” Gavin urged pushing Matt away. “Find Gina. I need to keep my phone line open.” The last was directed at Burke, hovering in the open doorway of a second squad car. “I’ll call you as soon as I know where I’m going. Keep your distance.”
“Gavin,” Dom grabbed him in a hard hug. “You bring her back.”
“I will,” Gavin said. “Call my dad. If he has mom,” he hesitated and Dom blanched. Angelo would not have gone down without a fight.
“I’ll send a car over now,” Burke offered, voice tight with anger. Angelo was one of their own. “New plan, boys.” Burke was barking new orders when Gavin pulled away, splitting up the squad.
He didn’t have to wait long.
“Are you alone?”
“Yes,” Gavin bit out. “Where is she?”
“Good,” Micah said, ignoring him. “You always did know how to follow orders. Tell me, did you follow Matt’s orders too? Say, for instance, he wanted to fuck you over the table, did you just bend over and take it?”
“I’m not interested in your mind games, you sick fuck. You touch one hair on my mother’s head, I’ll rip your fucking throat out with my bare teeth.”
“Ooh,” Micah crooned. “You’re so hot when you’re mad, Gavin. I really am going to enjoy this.”
“Where is she?” Gavin’s jaw burned, it was clenched so tight.
“It would seem my baby brother has had a little side project going for the past several years. Perhaps you’re familiar with it? Unit one-oh-eight?”
Gavin was dialing Burke’s number the instant he heard the line go dead. “The storage building. Stay back. He’ll have the advantage, there’s nowhere to hide there.”
“And what are you going to do, just waltz in there, guns blazing?” Burke’s scoffing tone was clear, even above the roar of the engine as Gavin pushed it as hard as it would go. “Don’t be a fool, DeLuca. Wait for us, we’ll set a perimeter.”
Gavin hung up on him. Burke could set up all the perimeters he liked. Gavin was still going to have to go in alone. He had been wrong before; this wasn’t about Matt. Now this was between Micah and Gavin.
He dialed Dom.
“Gavin?” Matt’s voice was rough, gravelly with concern.
“She’s at your storage building, at least that’s where he’s sending me. Are you there yet?”
“Not yet, almost.”
Gavin could hear Dom’s voice in the background.
“Dom said to wait for Burke.”
Gavin snorted. “Of course he did.” He shifted on the seat, knowing he should keep the line free. “You be careful.”
Matt’s voice softened. “You too. I love you.”
Gavin flushed at the ease with which Matt said the words, Dom’s presence not one whit of a deterrent. “I love you too. Stop, drop and roll. Don’t forget.”
Matt chuckled. “I won’t forget.”
Gavin hung up.
He was two blocks from the storage facility when his phone rang.
“Change of plans,” Micah said cheerfully. “And if you’re smart you won’t let those squad cars tailing you come along.”
Gavin looked sharply in his rearview mirror. It was impossible to discern if one of the many cars parked along the street held Micah’s form. He slowed, pulling to a stop against the curb. “Spit it out.”
