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“Figures. Fucking rich assholes.” Oz cleared his throat. “So the cops are gonna handle Ken and the charges against him. But this guy he hired to help him is in the wind. We have a description and a last known location, but I’m gonna beg you to be careful. He’s the one who hammered Alpha tower’s door shut and cut the bridge supports and set the fire. Ken claims he hired this guy, this Marvin, to cause general mischief, steal supplies, maybe slash your tires. Apparently the guy’s unhinged.”
The last part of Oz’s sentence buzzed in Barrett’s ears. “Marvin what?”
“Marvin….hold on. Ah, here. Marvin Gilbert.”
Marvin Gilbert. Fucking hell.
“I’m guessing you know who that is,” Oz said not unkindly.
“Yeah.” He steadied himself on Ambrose, wrapping an arm around that lean torso and pulling the other man close. Ambrose came willingly, melting into his side. “Marvin owned the house next door to me before Perry or Ambrose. He built it, actually. Built quite a few of the houses around here. When the city pulled some imminent domain shit to expand the zoning for homes around the lake, Marvin fought them. Lost a lot of money on the properties, from what I understand. I moved in about a year later and Marvin was already in foreclosure on the house next door. He went a little mad before he disappeared into the wind.” He sighed and felt the weight of the situation pull him down until he could sit at the counter. Ambrose sat next to him, a silent pillar of support and strength he really needed.
“Mad how?”
“Pacing outside at all hours, yelling on the phone.” Barrett flashed back to those early days as he was just getting settled into his place and would watch Marvin rant and rave into his cell. The times Marvin showed up at his house, smelling like cheap whiskey and cigarettes, asking Barrett for money. He’d given him a little here and there but every interaction with Marvin started to unnerve him. And then one day, when he came back from a long shift out on the trails, Barrett found Marvin’s place empty. Windows boarded up, doors chained shut, an angry screed pinned to the front door. How he’d lost everything, how the people around the lake never bothered to help, how he’d come back one day. Years ago, and still Marvin was out of his mind.
“So two guys who lose everything and nurse grudges decide to take revenge and hurt a bunch of other people.” Oz grumbled something unintelligible into the phone. “Fucking assholes. The cops will find Marvin, Barrett, but I’d keep an eye out just in case. If he hears Ken’s been charged, he’ll probably flee.”
He won’t. Barrett knew it instantly, as sure and swift as the lead weight of guilt in his gut. “I don’t think so,” he managed to say. Something in his voice or on his face made Ambrose lean in harder and rub small, smoothing circles into Barrett’s lower back. “Marvin was so angry all those years ago. People who hold anger like that….sometimes it just grows. Not saying it’s logical. And it’s all speculation but that kind of rage leaves a mark.”
“You said something like that when we were looking at the door.”
“I did. I hate that I was right.”
A rustling sound, and then Oz said, “Well, you were. Your instincts are good.”
“Somehow that doesn’t help.”
“I know, and I’m sorry for that.”
“Shit.”
Oz paused and Barrett listened to him breathe. “Stay safe. You see anything at all, call the police. Don’t do anything heroic. Please.”
There was sincerity in Oz’s words and Barrett took it to heart. “Not planning on it.”
“And try not to worry.”
That made him laugh, the sound bitter on his tongue and even worse in the air. “I always worry.” He glanced at Ambrose. “Especially now.”
“Take care, Barrett. And if I hear anything, I’ll call.”
When they hung up, Barrett told Ambrose and Raf everything. And by the end of his retelling, he couldn’t look Ambrose in the eyes. On some level he knew none of it was his fault, but at the same time it was. Ambrose was involved because of him and his family and his connection to Lake Honor.
“Don’t you dare.” Ambrose turned Barrett’s face to him, forcing their gazes to collide. “I can see you blaming yourself and don’t you dare.”
“Better listen to him, Barrett,” Raf said from across the counter. “He’s got that look on his face like he might chain you down if you don’t.”
“I will. I swear to everything I have that I will.” Ambrose’s mouth was a thin white line, pale in an already pale face. “If we’re playing the blame game, look what I dragged you into.”
“That’s not the same, Ambrose.”
“Yes, it is. On some level.” He got a poke in the chest from a bony figure as Ambrose pulled up to his full height, putting them eye to eye. “Listen to me. We’re safe. We’ll keep it that way.”
The words wereright there, on the tip of his tongue and begging for release. He wanted to scoop Ambrose up, take him to bed, and pull him close, knowing the scent and feel of him would ground the wild, tangled mass of his mind. Barrett wanted to say those words in Ambrose’s ear between hot, slick breaths and the feel of sinking into him.
Later. Later, he would.
But he chickened out. “Go shopping. Tonight, we’re going out. I don’t want this to ruin your day.”
