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“Yeah, well… you know, if you told me that you loved me right now, it could be our little secret. I wouldn’t tell either of them. Only you and I would know.”
Right. As if Gareth could keep it to himself. No, he’d take me telling him that I loved him as winning. But there was no competition anymore, and what pathetic competition there had been had ended in a stalemate. We weren’t going to go for round two.
“In your dreams, Gareth,” I told him, rolling onto my side and patting his chest.
He frowned, his gaze on the ceiling. “You’re so mean to me, it’s unreal.”
“Hah. I’m mean to you? Please. You were downright cruel to me when I first moved in. You hated me.” I leaned my cheek against his chest, curling my body against his. Our breathing was in sync, and if I focused, I could hear the beating of his heart.
“Oh, come on. You liked it. You tried to deny me, maybe even tried to hate me, but you couldn’t.”
He wasn’t wrong there. Man, how things had changed.
Truthfully, I didn’t know what the future held for us. For me, for Gareth, for Alistair and for Rick. For us together. Would we remain in this weird foursome relationship, or would I be forced to choose?
No, I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. They were each different, and they each spoke to me in unique ways. Picking one would be like choosing which arm or leg to get rid of. I wanted them all. I needed them all.
It might not be easy, but I’d fight to keep them.
Chapter Twenty-One – Gareth
Alistair was quiet as we drove, but that was just fine, because I wasn’t in the mood to talk. Fuck. I couldn’t believe I was here, doing this with him again. He’d tried before to get me to go on a hunt with him, to learn his rules, and all that shit. I’d tried, at first, but honestly, all those rules just weren’t for me.
Finding a suitable target? Making sure the world wouldn’t miss them, or if the world did, that everyone would celebrate once they were gone? Serial child molesters, men who had been caught with child pornography on their phones and computers… or in this evening’s case, a priest whose crimes had been covered up by the clergy.
Alistair preferred to go after people like that. Ah, technically, men like that. I never asked him why, but maybe I should.
The daylight had given way to twilight, a world of dusk outside the car. We had everything we’d need in the back trunk—some rope to tie him up with, along with a cloth in both our pockets full of chloroform. The church wasn’t near Eastcreek; we’d had to drive a state over to get there and scope it out first, two weeks ago. The church was in another small town, no video cameras anywhere to collect evidence. Tonight was the night we pounced on him.
“Can I ask you something?” I broke the silence in the car. The radio played, but the music was so low, you couldn’t really hear what it was. Alistair apparently liked to be lost in his own thoughts during his hunts.
“Of course,” he replied. He had both hands on the wheel, and he never took his eyes off the road. He didn’t wear a suit or any of his normal clothes; he wore black pants matched with a black hoodie, something he’d never be seen dead in by anyone he knew. I wore a similar outfit. We each had gloves in our hoodie pockets that we’d put on once we were there.
“Why is this your… thing?” I could’ve worded that a lot better, so I tried again: “Hunting guys like this down. Why? If you feel the need to kill, why don’t you just… I don’t know, do it?”
“If I did it like you do it—”
“Used to,” I grumbled. Let’s not forget Brianna had laid down a set of rules for me. Stupid fucking rules. I hated following them, I did, but, for whatever reason, I’d much rather follow her rules than my uncle’s, go figure.
“Regardless, there would be no more Montgomery name to speak of. I would’ve been caught, and you would’ve been put in a psychiatric facility for killing your own mother when you were twelve years old. With rules like mine, there’s a better chance you’ll live to see gray hair on your head.”
I made a face. He was assuming I wanted to live that long. I… all right, there might’ve been a time when I didn’t give a shit about my future or what I’d do with it, or how long it would be. I just didn’t care. But now that Brianna was in the picture, I found myself craving an extra long future.
With her by my side, obviously.
I said, “Yeah, but I mean, what’s the reason behind it? Other than wanting to live longer and not get thrown in federal prison. You have a type you like to hunt. Why?”
That got Alistair to glance at me, if only for a second, and when he did, I noticed the conflict in his blue stare. It was a while before he told me, “Your mother was abused as a girl. We took care of it together. She never wanted to continue, but I… I couldn’t stop. I had to keep it going.”
His words took a while to register in my brain. “My mother killed someone? Why is this the first time I’m hearing about this?”
“You were a child, Gareth. We both wanted you to be normal. By the time I realized being normal would be impossible for you… it was too late. You’d already killed Veronica.” Talking about his sister, my mother, was one of the only times Alistair gained emotion in his voice. Most other times, he came off monotone, sounding bored all the time—unless he was with Brianna. She brought emotions out of him, too.
“If you cared about her so much, why didn’t you get rid of me?” A question I’d never asked. Didn’t really care about the answer, not until now.
“You’re family,” he told me. “The only family I have left. A part of me might resent you for what you did, but I should’ve been more involved. I should’ve seen the signs before it was too late. I blame myself for you not having a proper outlet to… let loose those tendencies of yours.”
I didn’t say anything after that. Truth be told, I wouldn’t be here with him right now if it wasn’t for Brianna. This whole thing was for her. We graduated Eastcreek High next week, and as a celebration of it, this hunt was going to end differently.
