Headcase - Necessary Evils #4 - Ch. 11-13 (Patreon)

Chapter 11

Zane

Zane waited for Asa to say something once they were back in the car, but he remained unnervingly silent. “You told your brother we were dating,” he said finally.

“Mm,” Asa responded, tone noncommittal.

When Asa didn’t elaborate further, he asked, “Are you really going to introduce me to your father?”

Asa continued to stare straight ahead. “Yes.”

Zane stared at the side of Asa’s face, trying to gauge what was going on in his head. “What are you going to tell him?”

“The truth.”

Zane’s eyes went wide. “The truth? You’re going to tell Thomas Mulvaney that I tricked you into taking me home with you where I then let you stalk and fuck me on the floor of your sex dungeon? After which, I followed you into the woods where I filmed you dismembering a body before you tased, kidnapped, and handcuffed me to a radiator, then blackmailed me into playing Dr. Watson to your Sherlock? Like…that’s what you’re going to tell your dad?”

Asa’s lips twitched. “Maybe not with that level of detail, no. But I am going to tell him the situation.”

Zane flopped back against the passenger seat. “He’s going to kill me.”

Asa sighed, turning to look at him. “How many times do I have to tell you? My father doesn’t kill innocent people. He’s going to kill me instead.”

“And if he decides I’m not innocent?” Zane countered.

“Then I’ll keep you safe,” Asa promised, meeting Zane’s gaze in a way that made his heart race but also made him nervous because he wasn’t looking at the road ahead.

Asa was a complete and total mindfuck. In twenty-four hours, he’d turned Zane’s whole life upside down.

What life?

Zane sighed. The last thing he needed was Gage’s snarky voice rattling around in his already muddled brain. “Not now,” he muttered.

Asa hooked a brow upwards, tone amused. “Pardon?”

“Nothing,” Zane said, cheeks flushing.

“No, you definitely said something. Not now, what?”

Zane glowered at him. “If you know what I said, why did you say pardon?”

Asa laughed. “I know what you said. I just don’t know why you said it.”

“It doesn’t matter. I wasn’t talking to you,” Zane huffed.

Asa was grinning now. “Well, I’m the only one here. Who were you talking to?”

My dead brother. “Myself.”

Asa’s gaze strayed from the road. “You said ‘not now’ to yourself? What was it you wanted that you don’t have time for?”

Zane could feel his face heating up. “Just let it go.”

Asa jerked the wheel, pulling onto the side of the road and throwing it in park before turning to look at Zane, blue eyes bright. “Oh, now I’m definitely not letting it go.”

Zane’s heart slammed against his ribs, both from the terrible driving and Asa’s now laser-like focus on him. “Are you fucking crazy?”

“We both know the answer to that. Now, answer the question.”

“You’re just going to think I’m crazy.”

Asa reached out and pushed an errant curl off Zane’s forehead. “Color me intrigued.”

Go ahead. Tell him. I double dog dare you. Tell him all about me. Hey, he’ll probably let you out of the car right now and you’ll be free. Zane swallowed hard. That thought no longer gave him the thrill he thought it would. Somehow, he no longer really cared about being free of Asa.

“My dead brother talks to me,” Zane blurted. “Or, I talk to him. We…talk.”

Asa blinked at him. “What?”

Shit. “Like, not really. I know my dead brother isn’t actually talking to me. But, like, you know that voice in your head that is constantly keeping a running monologue of all your thoughts and feelings like Jiminy Cricket? Mine sounds like my brother.”

“Jiminy Cricket?”

Zane made a noise of exasperation. “Yeah, your conscience. The voice that reminds you of the right thing to do.”

Asa shook his head, a small smile playing at his lips. “Yeah, I don’t have that.”

Of course, he didn’t. Who did? Just Zane. “Well, I do, and mine sounds like my dead brother.”

Asa studied him for a long minute. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. That makes sense.”

With that, he checked his mirror and eased back onto the road as if the matter was resolved. Zane continued to stare at the side of Asa’s face as he drove another two blocks before not being able to stand it anymore. “What do you mean, ‘that makes sense.’ That makes no sense. Hearing the voice of my dead brother makes no sense.”

Asa shrugged. “My brother and I have been…connected…our whole lives. I know what he’s thinking, feeling, doing at any given time. If anything happened to Avi, hearing his voice in my head would be the only thing that kept me from setting the world on fire. Hearing the voice of your dead brother sounds like a coping mechanism. A pretty tame one considering how awful your parents seem.”

Zane didn’t know what to do with that. If he’d told his secret to any other living soul, including Blake, they would have insisted he make an appointment with a therapist immediately. Asa just took it at face value. Zane was living in some alternate universe where up was down and in was out. He’d fallen through the looking glass.

Asa’s phone rang where it sat between them. He pushed a button on the steering wheel. “Dimitri, tell me you’ve got something.”

Dimitri’s voice came through the car’s speaker. “I’ve got something,” he said dutifully.

Zane perked up as Asa said, “What is it?”

“A name.”

“Whose name?” Zane asked.

“The name of a person who may have played the game and lived.”

Asa frowned. “May have?”

“Yeah, it’s…complicated. People who play this game don’t exactly advertise they’re playing the game. It’s kind of an underground thing. But his roommate seems pretty convinced that’s why he dropped out four weeks ago.”

Asa looked at Zane, who shrugged. It was a small lead, but it was a lead.

“Name?” Zane asked.

“Eric Sievers. He was a sophomore at Henley. Dropped out four weeks ago out of nowhere even though he was rocking a 4.0 GPA and was captain of the lacrosse team.”

“Where can we find him?” Asa asked.

Dimitri made a hesitant noise. “Yeah, so that’s the thing. Nobody can find him.”

Asa shook his head. “What?”

“He’s, like…on the run or something,” Arlo’s voice piped in. “Like, the game broke his brain or something.”

“How do we know he’s still alive?” Zane asked. “How are we supposed to question somebody we can’t find?”

“You asked for information. This is all we could find. Our friend Jason had heard from his roommate David that Eric had played the game but got spooked when they asked him to do something horrible.”

“Can we talk to this David kid?” Asa asked.

“Um, probably. Jason said he works at the Cantina on South Padre and Montrose. I don’t think David knows that Jason told us what he told him about Eric, so maybe don’t, like, kidnap him and torture him for information or something,” Dimitri said. “He seems like a good guy and my mom will fucking flip.”

Asa scoffed. “Would I do that?”

“Yes,” Zane, Arlo, and Dimitri said at once.

Asa rolled his eyes. “Fine. I’ll be nice. What’s this David kid’s last name? Do you know?”

“Robinson.”

“Alright. Thanks, kid.”

“We square?” Dimitri asked.

Asa grinned. “Yeah, we’re good.”

Asa disconnected and looked at Zane. “Let’s go interrogate a teenager.”

Zane sighed. “Question. Let’s go question a teenager.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Let’s go find out what he knows.”

###

David Robinson stared at them in confusion. He looked like every other college student Zane had ever encountered. He wore jeans and a black t-shirt with the Cantina logo emblazoned across the front and a backwards ball cap over his blond hair. “Who are you guys again? What happened to you? Are you okay?” he asked, looking at Zane’s bruises with concern.

“I was mauled by a bear.”

“I’m an otter at best,” Asa murmured under his breath, earning a glare from Zane and a confused look from David.

Asa had asked to speak to the manager when they’d arrived and then offered him a ridiculous sum of money to speak to his employee. Zane had rolled his eyes but admitted it was amusing watching the manager’s eyes bug out when Asa handed him the cash.

“We want to talk to you about your former roommate,” Asa said, crossing his arms over his chest in a way that made David take a step back.

Zane sighed, stepping in front of Asa with a smile. “We’re really sorry to bother you at work. My name is Zane Scott, and I’m a reporter working on a story about the recent string of suicides over at Henley.”

David examined them both warily. “Who’s he?” he asked, pointing at Asa.

“Security,” Asa deadpanned.

“Asa Mulvaney. He’s helping me with the story.”

David snorted. “Asa Mulvaney designs athleisure for, like, soccer moms.”

Zane didn’t even have to look behind him to know Asa’s expression had turned threatening; watching the color drain from David’s face was enough. He leaned his weight against Asa, relieved when he felt his hands slide into his back pockets, holding him in place.

“That’s his brother, Avi. Asa is an architect, but he’s helping me out because…he’s my boyfriend and this story might be dangerous,” Zane said, improvising on the spot.

“A story about a bunch of suicides is dangerous?” David asked.

Zane nodded. “If it wasn’t suicide…yeah.”

David tilted his head. “Why would you say that?”

“Because there are rumors that these might not have been suicides. That it was part of a game,” Zane said.

The color started to drain from David’s face a bit more. “A game?”

“Yeah, a game your roommate was playing,” Asa said.

“W-What?” David said.

“Eric. People say he was playing a game. People say they heard it from you,” Zane said.

David’s eyes started darting around, like he might bolt. Zane held both hands up. “Look, nobody will know you told us anything. We just want to talk to Eric.”

David shook his head jerkily. “I can’t help you. I have no idea where he is. His parents don’t even know where he went. I don’t even know if he’s still alive.”

“Can you at least tell us why you think he was playing this game? Like I said, nobody will know you spoke to us,” Zane promised.

David seemed to vacillate on it for a moment before finally heaving out a sigh. “It started a few months ago.”

Zane fought the urge to fist pump. “What did?”

“The rumors about the game,” David said. “People were saying you couldn’t apply, you were chosen. That it was some underground thing. They talked about it like getting chosen made you elite. Some said the game had already started, others said it hadn’t. Some people said it was fake, others said it was like a mind game made to test, like, spies and secret agents. They said it was like…psychological warfare.”

“Psychological warfare?” Zane echoed. “What does that mean?”

David waved a hand, then lifted his ball cap to run his hands through sweaty blond hair before replacing it once more. “It was all just rumors. Some of them were crazy. There was a million dollar payday. It was some supernatural thing, like out of a horror movie. Once you started to play, there was no way to stop it. Some said it was just some Japanese horror movie with a kitschy hook, like they did with the Blair Witch Project. It just took on this sort of urban legend-like quality for a few weeks. But then we all found something new to talk about…until the first death.”

“Xander Hamilton,” Zane said.

David gave a jerky half-nod. “People were shocked. Upset. Except Eric. He was weird about it. Said some people couldn’t handle the pressure. It didn’t make any sense. I didn’t even think Eric knew Xander. But Eric was unraveling all on his own.”

Zane frowned, leaning heavier against Asa’s solid frame, something loosening when he felt Asa pull him back against him a little more. “How so?”

“Eric was solid. Nothing fazed him. He was literally the most level-headed, chill guy I knew. But just before Xander died, Eric started acting weird. Erratic. He stayed up all night, stopped showering. He looked sick. Pale. I think he started abusing his Adderall. It didn’t matter what time of day or night it was, he was awake, watching weird ass shit on his laptop.”

“What kind of weird shit?” Asa asked.

“Like people being tortured, people in foreign countries being beheaded. People torturing animals and kids. Sick fucking shit. I threatened to report him. That was when he said it was all part of the game. That he just had to make it through the thirty days.”

Zane’s stomach sloshed, goosebumps rising, as he pictured his brother participating in something that twisted. Would he agree to something like that? Would anybody? It sounded insane. “Why would anybody agree to something like that?”

“Money. I think he thought there was actually money involved. He was on scholarship. He was buying his grades. His parents were psychos. I think he thought if he had this money he could get out from under his parents’ thumb.”

Gage would do that. He hated the hold his parents had on him. He was on partial scholarship but they held other things over his head. Room. Board. He had to toe the line or the guilt trips would start.

“You okay, man?” David asked, snapping Zane out of his thoughts.

“Yeah. Sorry,” Zane said. “Long day.”

David’s brow furrowed. It was only three o’clock in the afternoon. But Zane stood by his statement. It had been a long day. And it wasn’t over. He still had to live through a meeting with Thomas Mulvaney.

“How do you know Eric ran away and something didn’t happen to him? Maybe he went off campus to end his life like the others,” Asa said.

“I came home from class one day and his shit was gone. There was just a note that said, “I quit. Don’t tell anyone.”

“That could easily be a suicide note, no?” Zane asked.

David looked around again, like he was afraid there was a hidden camera crew. “I saw him a few days after that. He was waiting for me by my car at the end of my shift. He asked me if he could borrow some money. He looked rough. I…gave him what I’d made in tips, which was only, like, a hundred bucks. I never saw him again.”

Zane frowned. “You gave him a hundred bucks with no expectation of getting it back?”

“Man, I work here for weed money. My parents are loaded, but they like to think having a job will keep me honest.”

“Tell me about it,” Asa muttered.

Zane snorted. “Do you have any idea where we could find Eric? Any idea at all?”

David shook his head. “Nah, man. I haven’t seen him. I don’t think he wants to be seen.”

“Do you think people were really after him, or do you just think paranoia started to get the best of him?” Asa asked.

David shrugged. “I don’t know, man. Five people are dead. I don’t know how many were playing the game, but I’m pretty sure Eric was, and something spooked him bad enough to go off grid. Maybe there were others who quit the game and stuck around, but I just don’t know. I don’t know anything more than I’ve already told you. I gotta get back to work. Don’t—” He shook his head. “Don’t come back. Okay?”

David didn’t wait for them to respond, just turned and went back inside, leaving Zane leaning against Asa, whose arms snaked around his waist. “Did we learn anything from that interaction?”

Zane shook his head. “I honestly can’t tell. It definitely sounds like there was a game. But it also sounds like these deaths were all self-inflicted. What are we supposed to do with that?”

“I’d give you my opinion but you already think I’m a monster,” Asa said, humor lacing his voice.

Zane shivered. “Tell me anyway.”

“If there is a game and that game involves driving people to their breaking point, whoever controls that game is a murderer and should be treated as such.”

Zane nodded. If his brother had played the game…if somebody pushed his happy-go-lucky brother to the point where he felt taking his own life was the only way out…fuck them. Asa could have them. He could tear them to pieces for all Zane cared.

Zane turned in Asa’s arms, voice grim. “I think I’m ready to meet your father now.”

Chapter 12

Asa

Asa sighed, shifting in his seat once more, watching Zane from the corner of his eye. They sat in Asa’s SUV just outside his father’s house. Beside him, Zane sat with a death grip on the door handle, like he was worried somebody might wrench it open and drag him out. Asa found it both confusing and amusing.

This had been Zane’s idea, yet he’d been stalling for at least fifteen minutes. All the bravado he’d had when he’d told Asa to bring him to Thomas appeared to have disappeared in the thirty minute drive across town. Asa understood his apprehension but didn’t know if he should push the issue or wait. He had never had to worry about somebody’s feelings before. It was…weird.

“So…did you want me to have my dad meet us out here or…” Asa teased.

“I just need a minute,” Zane snapped.

“A minute to, what?” Asa asked around a laugh. “You get that my father isn’t the one who kills people, right? That’s me. You know, the one who’s been inside you. Twice. The one whose bed you willingly handcuffed yourself to last night? I’m the one you should be afraid of.” Zane gave him a pissy look, arching one brow, leaving Asa to roll his eyes. “You know what I mean. Listen, my dad isn’t going to be mad at anybody but me.”

“Yeah. Okay,” Zane said. “Let’s just do this.”

Asa stifled a laugh at Zane’s sudden fake gusto but exited the vehicle, going around the car to open the door for him. He laced their fingers together, walking directly up the walkway and up the stone steps to the wide glass double doors.

Inside, Asa called out, “Dad?”

The house was enormous but the acoustics were fantastic. Besides, at this time of day, his father was usually in his office. Except today. “Kitchen,” Thomas called back.

Asa led Zane to the kitchen, stopping short with a grimace when he realized his father wasn’t alone. His brother, Adam, and his fiancé, Noah, sat on the bar stools at the island.

Shit.

As soon as they caught sight of Zane, Noah and Adam began to smile, Noah’s gaze instantly dropping to where their hands were joined. Asa resisted the urge to drop Zane’s hand. They knew. They definitely knew. Fuck.

“Who’s your friend?” Noah asked, voice full of mock innocence, a grin spreading across his face when he saw the hickeys on Zane’s throat. “Jesus, Asa. You really are an animal.”

Yeah, they knew. Jericho told Atticus, and Atticus had told the others.

“What? What’s going on?” Thomas asked, looking between the two.

“This is Zane. Zane, this is my father, Thomas, my brother, Adam, and his fiancé, Noah. They’re about to be super invasive.”

Zane blinked. “Oh. Okay.”

Thomas studied each of his children carefully, Noah included, before saying, “Nice to meet you, Zane.” His voice was hesitant, like he reserved the right to retract that statement later.

Adam narrowed his pale blue eyes in Zane’s direction, a smirk forming as he leaned back. “So, Zane. What do you do?”

Thomas squinted at Adam’s tone, gaze darting to Asa.

Zane opened his mouth to speak but Asa interrupted. “Dad. Can I talk to you…in private.”

Thomas gave a huge sigh, already irritated with Asa without cause. “Sure. Let’s go to my office.”

Asa dropped Zane’s hand, leaning in to whisper in his ear, “Show no fear. Adam feeds off of it. If you get into trouble, look to Noah for help. I’ll be right back.”

Asa left Zane gaping after him, following his father to his office. No sooner had the door closed, then Thomas turned on him. “What did you do? And why do your brothers know about it before I do?”

Shit. “Okay, it’s a long story. Okay, well not a long story so much as a kind of convoluted story—”

“Asa.” His name was a warning.

“Yeah, right. So…remember that awards dinner you made me go to?” Asa asked.

Thomas gave him an exasperated look. “Of course, I do, Asa. It was yesterday.”

Oh yeah. Could he have really only met Zane yesterday? That seemed impossible. He shook off the feeling. “Yeah, so anyway. Um, I met Zane at the dinner—”

Thomas sighed. “Your hookup? The one you blew off my award for? Is that him?”

Asa leaned against his father’s desk. “Yeah. I have to tell you something, and I need you to keep an open mind.”

“Christ, Asa, whenever you say shit like that, my eye starts to twitch.” He crossed the room to the mini-bar in the corner, opening the whiskey bottle and pouring himself two fingers full, throwing them back like a shot. His father’s day drinking was a relatively new endeavor. “You and your brother have been apart twenty-four hours and already you’ve both lost your goddamn minds—”

Asa broke in. “What did Avi do?”

“This isn’t about your brother. What did you do?”

“Zane is a reporter. Well, he wants to be a reporter. Right now, he’s just a crime blogger.”

Thomas closed his eyes, digging his thumb and forefinger into his sockets like he was trying to scratch his brain. “Okay…”

Asa tried to choose his words carefully. “After we…hooked up, he found his way to Jericho’s and Atticus’s murder cabin.”

“Found his way?” Thomas asked through gritted teeth.

Asa did his best to keep his voice light. “Yeah, it’s a long story. But he saw Jericho and me getting rid of that biker guy. You know…getting rid of?” He mimed bringing down an ax.

Thomas gave another long-suffering sigh, reaching for the bottle again. “Asa, please explain to me why you were holding hands in my kitchen with a reporter who saw you dissecting a biker.”

“Because we’ve reached an understanding,” Asa said, hoping this would ease his father’s mind.

“An understanding? How much is this understanding going to cost me?” Thomas asked.

Asa shook his head. “No. Not like that. I fixed it. He’s helping me figure out the suicide game situation, and, in exchange, I answer all his questions. At the end, he’ll see that what we do is a public service, not a crime, and he’ll get a better story out of it than ours.”

“You’re answering his questions?” Thomas repeated, voice low.

“Yes?” Asa asked, unsure whether his father was angry or not.

“What do you mean you’re ‘answering his questions’?”

“I needed his help with the case. I had to bring something more to the table than uncuffing him from the radiator.”

“Uncuffing him from the what?” Thomas snapped.

Asa shook his head. “It’s not like that. Okay, it was sort of like that,” he said, correcting himself.

Thomas’s voice was a low rumble as he asked, “Did you put those bruises on him before or after the radiator, Asa?”

“I mean, technically both? But he likes it. Like, it’s a sex thing—”

“Jesus, Asa. I’m aware. I know what hickeys look like.”

“But really, Dad. Zane likes me. Well, okay, I don’t know that he likes me exactly, but we have this thing, this connection. We get each other. I think he might be my person.”

“Your person?” Thomas echoed.

“Yeah, you know, like Noah, Lucas, and Jericho are for the others. I think Zane’s supposed to be my person.”

Thomas breathed heavily through his nose. “Is this you acting out because of your brother? Are you punishing me because I sent Avi to help Aiden?”

Asa rolled his eyes. “What? No. Well, at first, yeah, kidnapping Zane was probably acting out, but then we reached an understanding, and now, I think he actually really feels something for me.”

“You’ve known him less than a day. Asa, you’re smarter than this. You can’t just abduct random strangers—especially reporters—and then decide that you’re going to keep them like some kind of trophy.” Thomas shook his head, gaze snapping back to Asa’s. “Wait? What do you mean kidnapped? You kidnapped him?”

“Yeah, why else would I have had him cuffed to the radiator?”

“With you? God only knows,” Thomas muttered.

“There are a million other things I could have chained him to for that. Trust me—”

“For the love of God, Asa.”

Thomas wasn’t being fair. He had to see that Asa did exactly the right thing. “What was I supposed to do? Let him go so he could share his little videotape with the world?” Asa asked, flinging his hands into the air. “I was thinking on my feet.”

Thomas began to pace. “How much does he know, Asa? How much more have you told him?”

Asa shook his head. “Everything. He knows everything. It was the only way to explain to him what he saw. Jericho and I were dismembering a body, Dad. We were chatting about all kinds of very top level clearance stuff. The best case scenario is him knowing the whole story. Better he think we’re vigilantes than that we’re psycho killers. What would you have had us do? Kill him?”

“Of course not,” Thomas snapped. “He never should have been there in the first place.”

Asa stood, moving closer to his dad. “Well, I don’t have the ability to time travel, so we need to move past the shoulda, woulda, coulda portion of this lecture. Besides, I think this could work in our favor.”

“How?” Thomas asked. “How will having a reporter know all of our secrets help us?”

“Good press?” Asa said.

“Good press? You want us to go public with this?” Thomas barked.

“What? No.” Why was Thomas being so difficult about this? “Think about it. Talk of some superhero taking out the city’s evil helps plant seeds, just in case things ever go badly. It might pay to have the public on our side. Besides, if they think it’s one vigilante-like superhero, then they won’t be looking for a whole family full of them. Right?”

Thomas closed his eyes. Asa could only sit there and wait for him to finally speak again. It didn’t pay to push his father too far.

Finally, Thomas said, “Bring him to the war room.”

Asa felt a sudden weight lift off his chest. “Yeah, okay. I can do that.”

Thomas turned and left the room, not waiting to see if Asa followed.

In the kitchen, there was a strange stand-off happening between Zane and Adam. Zane leaned against the counter, arms crossed. Adam had his arms folded on the island. They were both locked in on each other.

“What’s happening right now?” Asa asked Noah, the only person not participating in this weird staring contest.

Noah grinned, looking back and forth between the two of them. “I’m not really sure. I think this is like the eye equivalent of a dick measuring contest. Like…at some point one of them has to blink or they’re going to lose an eyeball. Right?”

Asa was sure, whatever this was, Adam started it. He liked to torture all the newbies. They didn’t have time for that today. “Zane. My dad wants us to meet him downstairs.”

Zane’s gaze snapped from Adam’s to Asa’s, but it was Noah who said, “No way. He’s going to the war room already? When’s the wedding?”

“Shut up,” Asa muttered.

Noah laughed. “What? I’m just saying, once they make it downstairs, you’re sort of obligated to put a ring on it. Hope you’re ready to change your last name, Zane.”

“Um, you and Adam aren’t married,” Asa pointed out.

Noah rolled his eyes. “That’s because I want the wedding to be perfect. It’s not perfect yet. Besides, legally Adam’s shit all goes to me when he dies, so at this point, a wedding is just paperwork. We don’t need paperwork.”

Asa snorted. “Hopefully that holds up in probate court.” To Zane, he said, “Come on.”

Zane gave Adam one final long stare before turning and walking to Asa, who put an arm around his waist, leading him from the room and down the hallway. At the war room, Asa punched in the code that opened the heavy door.

Zane’s head was on a swivel from the moment they entered, taking in the large conference table, the comfy office chairs, the speaker in the center, the murder board on the wall breaking down the targets Noah and Thomas were currently vetting. He looked a little overwhelmed.

“Go ahead, Calliope,” Thomas said, aiming his words at the speaker in the center of the table. The wall lit up with hundreds of faces. Thomas looked to Zane. “Pick one. Any one.”

“W-What?” Zane stuttered, looking from Asa to Thomas and back again.

“Pick a face,” Thomas said, his tone letting Zane know this wasn’t a request but an order.

Zane struggled, his eyes darting from picture to picture before finally settling on one. “Third from the top,” he said, pointing out a fair-skinned man with a receding hairline and patchy facial hair.

Calliope’s voice filled the room. “Gerald Mizner. Serial child rapist. Four proven victims, all under ten. Another eight suspected but never confirmed. Released from jail on a technicality. Killed by…Archer, 2017.”

The muscle in Zane’s cheek twitched at the rapid-fire information. A look of disgust pulled his lips into a grimace.

“Pick another,” Thomas demanded.

Zane floated closer to the wall. “Him,” he said, pointing to a blond man with jowls.

Thomas gave a nod. “Max Mason, Calliope.”

“Maxwell Raymond Mason, human trafficker. Sold girls he smuggled in from Eastern Europe on the darknet, some as young as eleven. Killed by—”

“Me,” Asa said, cutting off Calliope. “And Avi. Last year.”

“Another,” Thomas said.

On and on it went. Serial rapist. Serial killer. Child predator. Spree killer. Domestic abuser. Child pornography. Child abuse. Torture. Kidnapping. Child killer.

“Enough,” Zane finally said. “I get it.”

“Do you?” Thomas asked. “Because my son has inadvertently given you the power to destroy everything we’ve worked for. Do you think the world is better off with any of those people in it?”

Zane swallowed, falling into one of the plush office chairs around the table. “No. Of course not.”

Thomas leaned his hip on the table, staring down at Zane. “I don’t mean to sound like a bad movie, but you’ve only got two moves here. You’re either with us or against us. I’m not a fan of threats, and I don’t relish having to say things like this. But what we do here, this experiment of sorts, it’s a pilot study for something much bigger than all of us. And there are very influential people who would kill to make sure this doesn’t leave this room. So, I encourage you to make the right choice.”

Asa dropped into the seat beside Zane. Was his father telling the truth? Were there others involved in this? Who were they? How were they involved? Was this some kind of fear tactic? Did the others know? Zane looked to Asa, then back to Thomas. “This is impressive and all, but I decided hours ago that I’d keep things to myself. Besides, it’s like Asa said this morning. Who would even believe me? I have no proof. I’ll just have to wait for my big break.”

Asa felt a weird squeeze around his heart. It wasn’t fair that Zane was having to sacrifice everything, even if he had used Asa. It wasn’t like Asa hadn’t used him right back. Several times. He looked to his father pleadingly.

“I can help with that,” Thomas said. “I have connections everywhere. This could be of benefit to all of us.”

Zane seemed to consider it, then shook his head. “No. I want to earn my place, not buy it. I’ll have to find a different story for my big break.”

Asa didn’t like the hollowness of Zane’s words or the disappointment on his face. It made him feel heavy somehow. He knew Zane was hurting but he couldn’t do anything about it. It wasn’t just a byline. This had to do with Zane’s shitty parents and his dead brother. Asa was making Zane’s life harder. He didn’t want to do that to him.

“A story like a game that ends in mass suicide?” Asa asked. “That seems byline worthy to me.”

“What have you found?” Thomas asked.

Asa nodded towards Zane, who said, “We interviewed a student who claims his roommate was playing, and he implied that at least one of the victims, Xander Hamilton, was also playing this game. This is all second-hand information, but it appears to have to do with completing a certain amount of tasks, each of them more unpleasant than the last, many of them having to do with watching or listening to disturbing material. This student’s roommate skipped town four weeks ago, and he thinks the guy was running for his life.”

“Are you able to track this roommate down?” Thomas asked.

“Not yet. Calliope, can you tell me what you can find on an Eric Sievers? He was a sophomore at Henley up until four weeks ago.”

There was the sound of Calliope’s nails clicking on keys. “Eric Sievers, date of birth September 25th, 2000. Son of Lisa and Grey Sievers. Mom is a real estate agent, dad is a professor. He is the youngest of…six siblings. Jeez. No wonder he needed that scholarship.”

“Can you check to see if his phone has pinged off any towers or if his debit card has been used anywhere in the last few weeks?” Asa asked, earning a surprised look from Zane.

“Give me an hour and I can tell you what he had for breakfast this morning,” Calliope said.

“In the meantime, can you send me the info you found on the victims? Maybe we can work backwards and figure out how they pick their players,” Zane reasoned.

“What good will that do?” Asa asked.

Zane shook his head. “Well, if we can figure out how they pick their players, maybe we can figure out who was playing this time and if they quit the game or are still playing?”

Thomas nodded, looking at Zane with a much different expression than just moments ago. “That’s a good idea. Get Lucas to help you. Behavioral profiling is what he does. Maybe he can profile the students. Don’t just look at the most recent five victims. You need a wider sampling. Calliope, look for any suicide clusters you can find throughout the whole country.”

“I already have a bot running. I’ll send that info over pronto.”

With that, she disconnected, leaving the three men to stare at each other. After a minute, Thomas clapped Zane on the back. “Welcome to the family, son. I hope you know what you’ve just signed on for.”

It wasn’t quite the welcome Asa was hoping Zane would get, but it was far better than what he’d expected. When they were alone, Asa stood, looking to Zane. “What do we do now, detective?”

Zane let Asa pull him to his feet, his expression grim. “Now…” he trailed off, like he was gathering his strength. “Now, you meet my parents.”

“What? Why?” Asa asked, hating the panic in his voice.

Asa was not ready to meet Zane’s parents. Not now. Not ever. His mother was a vile creature, and his father seemed equally unpleasant. Zane and Asa were far too new for him to murder Zane’s parents. Murdering his future in-laws might be one hurdle too many for their blossoming relationship. But he kept those thoughts to himself.

Zane shook his head. “Because there’s a very good chance my brother was one of the victims of this game, and if anybody has my brother’s computer lying around somewhere, it’s my mother.”

“You said your mother would never give it to you.”

Zane shook his head. “She won’t. But she’ll give it to you.”

Asa frowned. “She will? Why?”

“Because, more than anything else, my mother is about clout. Her reporter son will never trump her dead golden child, but his billionaire boyfriend will. She’ll do anything to impress a celebrity. You’re as close as she’s likely to get. If she thinks there’s a chance you’re going to make an honest man out of me, she’ll give you a fucking kidney.”

Asa’s lip curled in disgust. He had no interest in placating Zane’s horrible mom. Not for any reason. “No fucking way.”

Zane stepped closer, his hands falling on Asa’s waist, his fingers dipping beneath his shirt and feeling their way along Asa’s abs. “Please. You have to. I need to know if my brother was involved in this, and—God help us—my mother might be the key to that.”

Asa was temporarily distracted by Zane’s roaming hands and his pleading eyes and the way he caught his bottom lip between his teeth. Shit. “You’re completely playing me right now.”

“Is it working?”

Yes. “You shouldn’t tease me like that, you know.”

Zane’s thumbs played over Asa’s nipples, his gaze heated. “I’m not teasing. I’m…negotiating.”

A slow smile crept across Asa’s face. “I’m always open to negotiations. What’s your offer?”

Zane’s hands slid down to Asa’s waistband. “You agree to take me to my parents and play nice and I’ll be nice to you in return.”

Asa hardened instantly. “How nice?”

Zane glanced around the room. “Are there cameras in here?”

Asa’s breath punched from him. “No.”

He hoped that was true. But even if it was a bold-faced lie and his father somehow ended up seeing whatever Asa was about to do to Zane in that room, he couldn’t bring himself to stop. Especially not with Zane sinking to his knees, his hands already working open the button on Asa’s jeans.

Shit.

Chapter 13

Zane

Asa was already hard, staring down at Zane with a smirk that he should have found humiliating but, instead, made his dick throb and his heart race. Asa pushed Zane’s cap off his head, threading his fingers into his curls. He eagerly nuzzled the ridge of Asa’s cock through the denim before his fingers scrambled to free him from his jeans, too turned on to be embarrassed by his forwardness.

It was hard to be embarrassed when Asa was looking at him with enough heat to make him spontaneously combust, like Zane was worthy and sexy and something Asa truly wanted.

“You look so fucking hot. I’ve been picturing you on your knees for me since the moment I laid eyes on you,” Asa crooned, running his thumb over Zane’s lower lip. “Go ahead, Lois. Be nice to me. I’ll try not to be too mean to you.”

Zane’s pulse tripped at Asa’s words. The old Zane might have been furious at being treated like some sex doll but this Zane couldn’t get enough of it, couldn’t get enough of Asa and the way he looked at him. It made Zane bold. It made him feel sexy and wanted. “I don’t want you to be nice to me.”

“You have no idea what you’re saying,” Asa warned with a chuckle, gripping Zane’s curls tighter. “I have zero control around you as it is. If you let me off the leash, I can’t promise I won’t hurt you.”

Warmth bloomed through Zane’s core. He sat back on his heels, meeting Asa’s gaze defiantly. “Then hurt me. It would hardly be the first time.”

Zane let his mouth fall open, tongue out, making his intentions clear. He saw the exact moment Asa dropped his mask—that fake human exterior everybody wore to convince the rest of the world they were safe around them.

But nobody was safe around Asa. Except Zane. They’d barely known each other a day but Zane knew, deep down, that Asa would gut anybody who looked at him sideways, and that knowledge made Zane want to do very bad things for Asa. Made him willing to hurt for him, debase himself for him.

Asa ran his cock between Zane’s lips, not forcing his way inside, just rubbing himself over his lips and cheeks, like he was marking him, letting him know he’d do what he liked, when he liked. He pushed Zane’s face into the curls at the base of his cock, making him moan. Was it normal to crave a person’s scent? Especially like this, his face buried in his thigh where the smell was strongest?

Zane didn’t care. Didn’t care if he looked needy or desperate as he rubbed his face against Asa, unable to stop the groans that fell from his lips as he mouthed over Asa’s balls.

“Come on, Lois, suck me.” Asa pulled Zane’s head back, forcing his cock between his lips. “Show me how good you can be.”

Zane closed his mouth over his length, relishing the tang of his skin and the heavy weight on his tongue as Asa began to fuck his mouth, slowly at first, but then with more fervor.

Asa rumbled low as Zane moaned around him, the sound going straight to his dick until he was leaking through his underwear. Asa hadn’t lied—he had no intention of being nice. Maybe he’d just been warming Zane up, easing him into what was to come. Asa’s one hand stayed where it was, threaded in his curls, but the other closed around the back of his head. He took a step forward, forcing his cock to the back of Zane’s throat in one swift motion.

He tried not to heave, but it was impossible. Asa was huge and Zane most definitely had a gag reflex. A reflex Asa seemed intent on testing as he forced his cock impossibly deep until Zane’s muscles were convulsing around him.

The more he gagged and sputtered, the more brutal Asa grew until tears poured down Zane’s cheeks, his nose running and both of them covered in his saliva as Asa kept his gaze locked on him. It was raw and brutal and felt a little bit like a felony, but despite the pain—or maybe because of it—Zane only grew harder, his cock leaking until he worried he might come in his pants like a teenager.

Zane liked being used by Asa. Craved it. There was something so intoxicating about being the only one who got to see Asa’s truly dark side. Zane knew all of his secrets, knew every dark kink. Just Zane. Nothing had ever been just his. Nobody had ever cared just for him. Was this care? Had Zane been so abused that having a man wreck his throat was the equivalent of love in his mind? A therapist would have a field day with him.

“Touch yourself,” Asa demanded, as if Zane had been waiting for his permission.

Had he? Either way, he jumped to comply with Asa’s order, working his jeans open with one hand, groaning in relief when his palm closed around his overheated skin. He wasted no time, stroking himself in time with Asa’s rough thrusts, pleasure sparking along his nerve endings until he couldn’t stop the sounds he made.

Zane was already so close. Asa had been edging him since he’d gotten him dressed that morning. Asa would probably say the same about Zane. Had said it. Said he was a tease. But they both enjoyed this game, this thing between them. Whatever it was. This constant push and pull. The teasing. The taunts. The kidnapping. Zane felt like Asa saw all of it as foreplay. And, God help him, he did, too.

The more Asa used him, the faster Zane’s hand moved, hurtling him closer to orgasm. The more brutal Asa was, the more intense Zane’s pleasure until he wasn’t even stroking himself anymore but squeezing off his release, afraid he’d come first. He didn’t want that. He wanted to come with the taste of Asa on his tongue.

Asa was close. Zane could feel it in the way his hands gripped him tighter, the way his breath hitched. Asa wasn’t exactly a talker, but that just meant Zane could hear how much he was unraveling, how much he turned Asa on.

“I’m gonna come,” Asa grunted, forcing his cock into Zane’s throat, holding him there. His hips pulsed against him until Zane worried he might actually suffocate on Asa’s dick. It wasn’t the worst way to go.

Just as Zane’s vision grew fuzzy at the edges, a weird sense of euphoria overtaking him, Asa’s release flooded his mouth, forcing him to swallow or choke. Zane chose to swallow, his hand finally working over his own aching cock once more.  It only took three hard pulls and he was coming, his orgasm hitting him with the force of a tsunami.

Asa pulled free, but Zane stayed on his knees, trying to catch his breath, only slightly aware of Asa walking away. Then he was back, pulling Zane to his feet before picking him up and sitting him on the conference room table.

Zane’s heart squeezed as Asa used a wet cloth to gently wipe his face. All the harsh intensity had melted from his features, leaving him looking at Zane in a way that made him catch his breath. Like he’d pleased him.

Asa gave him an amused look. “Are you alright?”

Zane nodded, swallowing hard, then wincing. “Nothing a little water and maybe some Tylenol won’t fix.”

Asa chuckled. When Zane was all cleaned up, Asa gripped his chin gently, dropping an almost chaste kiss on his lips. “That was hot, Lois.”

Zane’s eyes burned from tears and he still had the sniffles, but he felt hot, just because Asa had deemed it so. He looked around the room. “I really hope your father doesn’t have cameras in here.”

Asa’s knuckles brushed against Zane’s cheek in that way that made goosebumps erupt along his skin. “He doesn’t, but I wish he did. That blowjob was worthy of being recorded for posterity.”

“I don’t think you should be showing that to any future generations,” Zane said, a lopsided smile forming. “Though, I suppose it’s nice you want something to remember me by.” He hated how sulky he sounded.

Asa smirked, shaking his head. “You really don’t get it, do you, Lois? You’re never getting out of this. You and me? It’s a done deal. We’re kind of like the mob. Once you’re in, you’re in. I really hope you can learn to love me because this fucked up thing we have going…it’s forever now. Hope you don’t get sick of me.”

This was all so surreal. Two days ago, he’d dreamed of taking down the Mulvaneys. Now, suddenly, he was going to be one. He had no idea what to do with that information. Falling in love with Asa wasn’t going to be a hardship. But he couldn’t shake the feeling it would forever be one-sided. “I think it’s far more dangerous if you get sick of me.”

“That’s not going to happen, Lois. Relationships are what you make them. Our goals and values are very much aligned. We have an amazing sex life. You’ll never want for any material possession you desire. If you need something from me emotionally, I’ll learn. I’ll figure it out. You don’t have to be afraid of me. I decided you were it for me the moment you put those handcuffs back on.”

Zane wasn’t sure he was still breathing. As far as proposals went, it was a pretty good one. “Oh.”

Asa grinned. “It’s Avi you should be afraid of. He’s very…possessive of me. He might see you as a threat.”

“So, your psychopathic brother—who looks exactly like you—might want to murder me. Great. Excellent. I guess there’s something to be said for me not seeing it coming.”

“Don’t worry, Lois. I won’t let him kill you.”

“How romantic.”

###

Zane ran his fingers through his hair for the hundredth time as they landed on his mother’s doorstep. He’d thrown his cap in the backseat, knowing she’d instantly hone in on it like a beacon. Beside him, Asa was taking in the small tidy white house with its neatly manicured lawn and beds along the white picket fence overflowing with only white flowers. His mother was dedicated to her aesthetic.

The houses on either side of his mother’s house were larger and far more grand, but hers was meticulous. She told the neighbors she’d chosen the tiny house because she was downsizing since her children were gone, but the truth was, she’d rather have the smallest house in the nicest neighborhood than the largest house in a less desirable one.

Zane lifted his hand to knock, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. Talking to his mother on the phone every week was hard enough, dealing with her scrutiny in person was torture. Listening to her discuss each of his flaws in detail in front of Asa would be pure, unadulterated hell. He shouldn’t have worn pink today. She hated when he did anything too effeminate. Just because he was gay didn’t mean he had to ‘look’ gay.

Just turn and run, bro. She’s never going to give you what you want. She guards that MacBook Pro like it’s my death shroud.

Go away. I can’t do this with your voice in my head and hers in my ears. Seriously, fuck off.

Okay, touchy. Damn.

It was then that he noticed Asa staring down at him with an amused expression.

“Do you prefer to take all parental meetings outdoors?” he teased. “Since I can’t help but notice that we’re once more just standing outside instead of, you know, not.”

Zane rolled his eyes. “I’m…gearing up for it. You don’t know what a nightmare my mother can be.”

Asa reached up and rang the doorbell, earning a wide-eyed look of exasperation from Zane. “What? You said she’ll find me charming. Let me charm her.”

Before Zane could panic further, the door swung open. His mother stood there in her white linen pants and flowy magenta top, dripping with gold jewelry like she was afraid if she didn’t wear it all at once, somebody might steal it. She blinked in surprise, her gaze darting back and forth between Zane and Asa.

“What are you doing here?” she said, her tone sharp enough to cut. She narrowed her eyes at Asa, taking in his full sleeve of ink and his casual attire with a sneer. “Who’s this?”

Zane mentally took a deep breath. “Asa, this is my mom, Beverly. Mom, this is my boyfriend, Asa.” She clearly didn’t recognize him on sight so Zane said, “Asa Mulvaney.”

The change was instantaneous, her expression serene but the look in her eye predatory. “Mulvaney?” she asked, feigning ignorance. “Why does that name sound so familiar?”

Asa gave her a dazzling smile. “You probably know my father. Thomas Mulvaney.”

His mother’s hand floated to her chest. “Oh, my. You are so handsome. Just like your father. And you’re…with my son?”

God, she’s a bitch. Zane had to agree with Gage on this one. It was no surprise to him that the only person who hadn’t asked about the bruises all over him was his own mother. She either hadn’t noticed or truly didn’t care. Zane wasn’t sure which option was worse.

Zane struggled not to react to his brother’s musings. He was right, though. She was a bitch. No matter how much he steeled himself for her unwavering hatred of him, it never grew any less painful. The way she’d emphasized ‘my’ as if perhaps Asa had just grabbed the wrong boyfriend by mistake was just a twist of the knife she’d lodged in his heart at birth.

Asa stiffened beside him, but his smile never wavered. He wrapped his hand around Zane’s, threading their fingers together and squeezing hard, though Zane didn’t know if it was in solidarity or if even he wanted to punch Bev in the throat. Either way, something about that gesture eased some of the ache.

“You’ve raised an amazing man,” Asa assured her. “I was never really one who believed in love at first sight, but one look at Zane and I was a goner.”

Maybe it was just part of the act but Zane’s heart skipped a beat, especially when Asa’s thumb began to draw circles on the delicate skin of his inner wrist. His mother’s look of confusion wasn’t an act. She truly couldn’t fathom a world that didn’t find him as awful as she did. “Oh. Well, how nice. Has he met your father? I imagine he’s used to you dating men who are far more…suitable.”

What the fuck? Maybe you should let him kill her. At this point, it seems like a public service.

Zane fought not to crack a smile, but then Asa squeezed his fingers so tightly he worried they might break.

“Yes, just this morning. He loves Zane, too. Was excited to welcome him to the family.”

Her hand fluttered. “To the family?” she gasped. She then seemed to remember her manners. “Oh, my. Come in. Come in. I apologize. My son rarely comes to visit, least of all during the week.” She led them into the living room with its white carpet and white furniture, gesturing to the sofa. “Please, sit.”

Zane dropped onto the nearest cushion. Asa followed, sitting close enough for them to touch from shoulder to calf, keeping their clasped hands on his thigh. “Thank you.”

Bev let out a huge breath, her smile almost genuine. “Of course, my future son-in-law is always welcome here. Your family as well, though I can’t imagine why they’d want to come to my humble little home.”

“Your home is lovely,” Asa said, sounding so sincere Zane couldn’t help but gawk at him. Was this public Asa? Was this the Asa of interviews? The one who met with clients and dated supermodels? Zane would take the psycho killer Asa any day. “The truth is, we’re here because there’s something I was hoping—well, my father was hoping—you could help me with.”

Beverly’s well-manicured brows shot upwards. “How could I possibly help Thomas Mulvaney?”

Asa leaned in, still refusing to relinquish Zane’s hand. “This is a bit of a delicate subject and I apologize in advance for any distress it might cause you,” he said, giving her a sad smile.

His mother leaned in as well, always primed for gossip or a juicy story she could use to regale her bridge club. “I’m listening.”

“I suppose you’ve heard of the recent deaths at Henley?” Asa asked.

His mother’s face became a storm cloud. She crossed her legs and clasped her hands together, her lips forming a tight line. “Yes, of course. Such a tragedy.”

Asa nodded. “Yes. My father agrees. He’s creating an event. A memorial of sorts for all the students who’ve taken their own lives, not just at Henley but at your late son’s school as well.”

If his mother crossed any more limbs, she’d turn herself inside out. He could tell she was fighting with herself. If this had been anybody but a Mulvaney asking, she would have shoo’d them out of her house with a broom and told Zane to never come back.

“Oh, that’s nice, dear,” she said faintly. “But I don’t see how I can help.”

“We were hoping you still have Gage’s computer,” Zane blurted.

His mother’s eyes went wide, her face paling. “What? Why?”

Asa gave Zane a look that screamed shut up then turned back to Bev. “The other families have given us access to their loved ones’ computers to look for any poems, art, essays. Anything that would allow us a glimpse into a side of them we might not otherwise see. We’re going to turn it into an art installation of sorts. You know my father is a patron of the arts.”

Zane fought not to roll his eyes as he watched his mother attempt to process Asa’s logic. It was a good story. Better than what Zane had planned, which was just to beg or wait until his mother left, then ransack her closet.

“I don’t think my son had anything so frivolous on his computer,” Bev said. “He wasn’t into that artsy stuff like Zane. He spent his time on important things like schoolwork and extracurriculars. He even did volunteer work with your father’s foundation. You would have loved my Gage.”

Asa squeezed Zane’s hand harder, like he could feel the sting of her words and their effect on Zane’s heart. “Our computer expert would just like an opportunity to see if she can find all the things Gage loved. If Gage’s grades and extracurriculars were his primary focus, we’ll make sure that is highlighted, front and center. But it would really mean a lot to us—to my father—if we could just borrow his laptop for a few hours. We can clone the hard drive and have it back almost immediately so it’s not out of your sight for long. I promise it will come back to you in exactly the same way it left.”

Once more, Asa laid that big smile on his mother. Zane could tell she was wavering. She loved Gage more than anything in the world, but Gage was dead and Thomas Mulvaney’s attention would be social capital she could cash in on with her bridge club for months if not years, especially if Asa was telling the truth and they really were doing life together.

Finally, his mother sighed. “Okay, sure. Why not? But I want final say in what goes into his memorial. I wouldn’t want people getting the wrong idea about my son.”

“Absolutely,” Asa assured her.

She gave a single nod, then stood and left the room. Zane sagged against the couch. Asa leaned down and nuzzled just behind his ear. “I could kill her for you.”

“How would you do it?” Zane asked, breathless. The idea of Bev’s death felt like a balm to his jagged heart.

Asa seemed to think about it. “Um, poison?”

Zane shook his head. “Too quick.”

"Drowning?"

Zane made a face. "Not painful enough."

“Vat of acid?” Asa countered.

A startled laugh escaped. “Are you trying to kill my mom or take out all the toons in ToonTown, Judge Doom?”

“Did you just make a Who Framed Roger Rabbit reference?” Asa asked, looking at Zane in awe.

“I love that movie,” Zane said, blushing for some reason.

“Me too,” Asa murmured, leaning down to kiss his way along the shell of Zane’s ear.

“Tell me more ways you’d kill my mom,” Zane said on a gasp.

“Aren’t you afraid she’ll catch us making out on her pristine sofa?” Asa purred, dropping Zane’s hand to skim fingertips along his inner thigh.

“Please, you could fuck me on the dining room table and she’d just try to find a way to capitalize on the event.”

Asa made an appreciative sound when he felt Zane starting to harden behind his zipper. “There’s an idea.”

“Fucking me in front of my mom? Um, no. Boundaries are a thing.”

Asa shook his head. “Uh-uh. Fucking you bent over my dining room table. I miss being inside you.”

Zane flushed. “You were inside me last night.”

“I know, it’s been hours. I’m going to die,” Asa intoned dramatically.

Zane snorted. “I highly—”

“Here you are,” Bev said, holding Gage’s laptop in front of her as if it was an offering.

Zane jumped to his feet, not missing the look of amusement on Asa’s face as he clasped his hands together in front of his crotch. What an asshole. Asa stood much more languidly, taking the laptop from her and leaning down to kiss his mother’s paper-thin cheek. “Thanks, Bev. I’ll have this back to you in no time.”

His mother’s cheeks turned pink and she fluttered her lashes. “Please, call me Mom.”

Un-fucking-believable.