Lonely Hearts (28 page)

They waited in the lounge for Giles and Mina to get out of orchestra, and Aaron and Elijah gave Lejla, Sid and Jilly the update. Sotto voce, as their escorts lingered in the hallway, watching them with stony expressions.

“This is creepy.” Lejla huddled into herself and glanced at the door. “Are we under house arrest or something?”

Aaron glared at the security guys. “I'm not liking this. At all. I know Baz says his parents are fine, just a little offbeat, but this is too much. I called Pastor and told him. He already knew, because he got the same locust attack we did, and he's not happy. I don't care if Mrs. Acker is getting appointed to be President. This is out of line. Way out of line.”

When Giles and Mina joined them, they agreed with Aaron. Giles took point beside his boyfriend. “We're going to the house, and we're getting some goddamned answers. Also some dinner. Jesus, I'm starving.”

They walked home together in a small mob, actively ignoring the suits walking beside them, though a few times Elijah thought Giles was going to tell them to fuck off. When they got to the house, things were crazier than before. Giselle standing stonily beside him, Stephan paced up and down their living room rug, barking out orders. Until he saw the residents arriving, and then he started barking at
them
.

“We're going to have a few words about your failure to return my calls, but first you're telling me everything you know about where Baz is. I know something is up, and I'm not playing any games.”

“I don't know what's going on,” Sid said, his patience clearly wearing thin, “but you guys need to back the fuck off. If Baz knew what was going on here, he'd be all kinds of pissed.”

“Well, Baz
isn't
here, is he?” Giselle's perfectly pink lips pressed into a neatly outlined seam. “Nobody can find him. His parents are worried sick.”

“Where
are
his parents?” This came from Aaron. “Why haven't we received any phone calls from them?”

“Because Ms. Barnett Acker and her husband are busy people.” Giselle's lip curled in a baby sneer. “Do you have any sense how much this disappearing act has upset their schedule? Do you have any comprehension of how much work went into getting them these interviews?”

Mina got into her face. “Baz is a person, not some political pawn you can whip out of your ass.”

Elijah closed his eyes and stifled a wince, slipping into trick head as Giselle's demands for them to tell what they knew became pointed and too intense for him to deal with. Then Stephan was in front of him, bellowing and vibrating with rage.

“I know he told
you
. There's no way he didn't let you know where he went. Tell me
right now
, or so help me God, I will make you pay.”

The flashback to being yelled at by his dad hit Elijah so hard and fast he stumbled. Lejla steadied him, and Mina and Giles and Sid started yelling at the same time, but Giselle zeroed in on Elijah like a dog who had found the bone.

“This isn't a game, Mr. Prince. You have no idea how influential the Barnetts are. They want to find their son. Just because you're setting up house with him doesn't mean you get to dictate terms. You're on thin ice as it is, with the drag you have from your father's trial—and this is saying nothing of how much the Barnett-Ackers have single-handedly pulled your ass out of the damn gutter—”

“
Shut the fuck up.
” Aaron had shoved his way to the front, fists clenched at his sides, body vibrating with rage. “You arrogant pieces of shit—shut the
fuck
up. You don't talk to
anybody
in this house that way, but you sure as hell don't talk to Elijah with disrespect. And fuck your delusions about who's helping who around here. We've
all
put into Elijah's fund. You're full of shit, with your threats—and if by some insanity you manage to follow through on them,
we
are going to make
you
pay.”

While everyone else shouted, Lejla pulled Elijah aside and hustled him up the stairs. She led Elijah into his room, and when Stephan shouted after them, she locked the door and dragged the dresser in front of it.

Elijah collapsed onto the edge of the bed. He felt dizzy and fucked up and terrified. It was like a bad dream. Or more to the point, a bad memory. In his mind Stephan kept morphing into his dad, looming over him, shouting, calling him names, making it clear every horrible thing that ever happened to the world was because of Elijah.

Lejla sat next to him, gently putting an arm around him. “Hey. It's okay.”

Elijah shut his eyes and wrapped his arms over his stomach. “I just need a minute.”

“That guy is crazy. The woman too. This whole thing is insane.”

Each time Lejla spoke, Elijah felt more and more like he was going to throw up. He could feel the panic attack coming, and his whole mission in life became to have it by himself. “I need to be alone for a few minutes.”

He croaked out the words, and at first he wasn't sure Lejla was going to leave, but whatever she saw in his face convinced her to stand. She touched his hair lightly, stroking in a hesitant, stuttering gesture. “I'm going to wait outside. You'll holler if you need me?”

Elijah managed a wooden nod, though it was a lie because he wasn't hollering anything. He wanted to crawl under the bed. He wanted to take enough drugs to turn him into a zombie so he wouldn't see his dad looming over him anymore. He wanted to erase what Stephan had said from his brain because the words kept echoing, burning deeper and deeper into his soul, letting loose so many things he'd worked his fingers to the bone trying to forget.

He hesitated over Baz's dresser top full of drugs, but the memory of how badly he'd fucked himself up the last time made him turn away. What he was supposed to do instead of drowning in chemicals, however, wasn't immediately clear. All he knew was the panic kept rising inside him, threatening to blow out the top of his head.

He didn't consciously plan on climbing out the window. It simply happened. Stuffing cigarettes and his wallet into a backpack, he slung it over his shoulder and climbed down the rusty fire escape as silently as he could.

Except he didn't know where to go. His fingers fumbled at his phone, and he couldn't make his legs work right. His feet were so heavy he couldn't get farther than the garage. He crawled behind a hedge and tucked his legs against his body, shivering in the cold as the shouts from the house punctuated the night.

Though he'd brought his cigarettes, he didn't smoke. He only sat there, rigid, curled in a ball, vacillating between rage and hatred and fear—because he didn't understand what had happened, why he'd melted down or what was supposed to happen next.

This isn't a game, kid. You have no idea how influential the Barnetts are.

Howard Prince can be forgiven his rage when it's learned what a manipulative, soulless fiend drove him to his crime.

You disgust me. You aren't the man your brother was. You'll never be. You should have died instead of him. You should crawl through the dirt in gratitude and pray the world never finds out how full of evil you are.

Elijah shut his eyes tight, digging his fingernails into his jeans. “What wondrous love is this,” he whispered, repeating the song under his breath in a vain attempt to drown out the bilious echoes of his memory.

Baz was prepared for a small circus at the White House, but the sheer volume of suits and muscle milling around his driveway pretty much blew his mind as Ed drove them close enough to get a full view.

Laurie leaned forward in the passenger seat with an expression of alarm. “This is because you skipped out on an interview?”

Ed parked the car a discreet distance from the house, but the goons in the yard were already eyeballing them. Ed looked pretty pissed. “I'm starting to regret not asking the guys to come along. This is a bit fucked up, Baz.”

It was. “I'll get it sorted out.”
As soon as my mother is done being interviewed.
God, that was going to sting all night long.

“We'll be coming with you.” Laurie exited the car with grace and poise. “I believe your mother's people have overstepped themselves. Let's go remind them of a thing or two.”

Ed frowned at the security detail. “I really think we should call the guys.”

Laurie waved this idea away. “This isn't a moment for muscle. But feel free to appear menacing, if you like.”

At the house they were immediately besieged by pretty much every part of the Barnett detail on the lawn. A few reporters who had smelled a story lingered at the edge of the drive, but when the security guys attempted to block them, Laurie kept his smile in place as he leaned over to whisper to Baz.

“Pick out one you like and invite them inside.”

Baz blinked, and despite how sick he felt, laughed. “Laurie, you're an evil genius.”

“This ain't my first time at the rodeo,” he replied, letting go of Baz to warmly welcome the confused but excited press junket forming around them, asking their names and where they were from.

Baz chose the young but aggressive-looking Asian woman who had on a power suit for a stakeout. Her name was Susan Meeks, and she turned out to be a senior journalism student from the
Minnesota Daily
. Since he was still a bit shell-shocked, he murmured his choice to Laurie, who told her she was entirely welcome to bring a cameraman inside.

The security guys balked, and several suits came over with hands extended, as if to push them back, but Susan had her crew aim the cameras at them, and Laurie simply smiled serenely as Ed moved in front of them to become their personal bulldozer. Soon they were at the front door, where an angry Stephan and Giselle stood ready for battle.

“Where in the world have you—?” Stephan went white as he spied the camera aimed on him. “Turn that off. Turn that
off
.”

Laurie stepped around a bristling Ed and extended his hand to Stephan. “Laurie Parker. I'm sure you've heard of my parents, Albert and Caroline, and their foundation. My godfather, Oliver Thompson, has had so many good things to say about Gloria.”

Stephan paused before composing himself warily. “Sebastian, it's wonderful to have you back. Is there some reason you saw fit to bring the press?”

Baz ignored him as he scanned the room. He saw most of his housemates huddled around the couch, looking pissed off and concerned, but not his boyfriend. “Where's Elijah?”

“He's in your room.” This came from Lejla on the stairs. “He's pretty upset.”

Baz pushed through the wall of aides, and when they tried to detain him, Ed came to his side. “I'm sure he's fine,” he assured Baz as they hustled up the stairs.

But nobody answered when they knocked on the door, or when Baz pounded on it and pleaded with Elijah to open up.

“Relax,” Ed urged when Baz started to lose his shit. “Do you have a key for this?”

Baz was pretty sure he had a universal skeleton key—in his room. Along with all kinds of substances to abuse. “We need to break it.”

Brian appeared behind them. “What about the fire escape?”

Baz pretty much leapt down the stairs, wanting to punch Stephan in the face on the way by, but he was on the other side of the room, getting his ass politely handed to him by Laurie, on camera. Baz barreled out the door to the patio, hoping to hell he'd find Elijah, but there were just more security goons keeping a watchful eye on who the hell knew what. He wanted to climb the fire escape, but Lejla wouldn't let him. She had Ed hoist her up to the drop ladder, and she scurried up the iron stairs to the window. “The light's on—oh, the window is open.” She leaned into the room, called out, then shook her head at the contingency on the ground. “He's not in here. I think he came out this way, though.”

All the house residents were home now, and a great deal of the security—Ed barked out orders for everyone to start looking for Elijah. They spanned through the yard and into the street, calling his name, pulling out their phones to call and text him.

Baz did his best to think like Elijah and attempt a guess as to where and why he might have gone. Mostly his brain cycled through a manic urge to bring him home.

Aaron took his arm. “It's okay. We'll find him.”

Baz gripped his own leg. Fuck his hip, he wasn't sitting this out, even if he had to limp to Canada. “What happened? Why would he take off?”

Mina, who had been calling into the yard, answered with steel in her gaze. “Those fuckheads reamed him out, basically threatened him if he didn't tell where you were. We got up in their grill, but Elijah went upstairs. We thought he was checking out to avoid this bullshit.” Her face fell. “I'm so sorry, we should have done better.”

“How long ago did he go upstairs? What did he take?”
How many drugs?
God, Baz was flushing all of them down the fucking toilet.

Lejla climbed into the room, poked around and reemerged. “Looks like his backpack, maybe a sweatshirt. His phone's on the dresser.”

“Is there somewhere he would go?” Ed asked.

“Pastor Schulz, maybe.” Baz didn't know. He swayed on his feet and swallowed more panic.

Someone made a call to Pastor, which was a dead end, so they resumed their search. Giselle came out and approached Baz, but the others held her back, and he let them. He had to find Elijah. Had to tell him. Had to make sure he was okay.

But he was nowhere. Baz knew he should follow the others into the streets, but he couldn't make himself go, and Ed kept urging him in a gentle voice to stay close, to be home base.
We'll find him,
everyone kept saying.

But no one did.

Baz leaned against a tree behind the garage. “This is all my fault.”