“What did I do?” Adam asked.
Noah’s gaze darted to him. “What? Nothing,” he said a little too quickly.
“Please, don’t lie to me.”
There was sorrow in Noah’s eyes. “I’m not,” he lied again.
“I can’t fix what I did if I don’t know what it was. Please, just tell me.”
Noah opened his mouth and closed it, swallowing audibly, shaking his head, like he was fighting with himself. “You can never love me,” he blurted.
Oh. That. Adam reached out and took Noah’s hand. “I don’t know what love feels like. I don’t know what empathy or guilt feel like. But I know this: I want to fuck you and fight with you and fight for you and make up with you and make out with you and eat Greek food naked with you. Is that enough?”
Noah blinked rapidly before looking away. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s enough.”
Adam still couldn’t shake the feeling he’d done something wrong, but the terrain was getting treacherous. The two lane paved road they’d taken once they were off the highway had given way to a dirt road, which led to a barely-there dirt path that was little more than a trail created by tire treads taking the same route again and again.
Adam was almost certain they’d somehow taken a wrong turn as trees beat their branches against the side of his father’s Rover. Then they were suddenly there, the cabin just before them, sitting in a barren spot in the middle of a circle of trees. The trees were a distance away but uniform, like they’d all decided it wasn’t safe to get too close, like even they knew the place was poison.
“Do you want to go in with me?” Adam asked.
Noah’s gaze shot to his. “I have to. I have to know. There could be something in there that could identify the others.”
Adam nodded, but he didn’t like the sudden stiffness in Noah’s body language. He handed Noah a pair of nitrile gloves and, after a cursory glance for cameras, they exited the car, walking towards the entrance as if they had a right to be there.
There were three locks on the front door. What cabin in the woods needed two additional deadbolts? They exchanged glances before moving around the cabin. The windows were blacked out. Whatever was going on in there, they clearly didn’t want an audience. They checked each one for a point of entry, hoping for just one unlocked window, but Gary was clearly a careful monster. Adam picked up a rock and cracked the pane of glass, reaching in and unhooking the latch, sliding it up and carefully brushing away the shards.
Adam went in first. The smell hit him like a fist, making him wince. Sweat and booze and nicotine. Even in the minimal light, Adam could see it was a bedroom of sorts. He helped Noah inside, then held a finger to his lips, reminding Noah to be quiet so he could listen. When there was nothing but silence, Adam went to the wall and pushed the light switch up.
A dirty quilt lay over a bare mattress pushed in front of a deeply scarred wooden headboard. There was an ashtray on a crooked bedside table and a dresser with two missing drawers. Somebody had taken the mirror and propped it up on a chair, angling it towards the bed.
Adam shook his head, gesturing for Noah to follow him. They ignored the closed door across from where they stood, first checking the kitchen and living room. Both looked mundane. The pantries were bare and the couch sagged, but there was nothing incriminating to justify three locks and blacked out windows.
“Maybe you should stay here,” Adam said when he backtracked to the closed door, noting the locks—plural—were on the outside, though neither were latched.
Noah swallowed hard, but then straightened his shoulders, his mouth set in a grim line. “No. Open it.”
Adam pushed the door open, letting it swing wide. Part of him had hoped they’d find nothing more than another stained mattress, but he’d been wrong. For as dirty and disgusting as the rest of the cabin appeared, this room was pristine, the average boy’s childhood fantasy come true.
A bed shaped like a car dominated the center. There was a rug with tracks trailing through an imaginary town and small matchbox cars scattered across the room beside a toy box overflowing with stuffed animals and games. But there were two things that stood in stark relief to the idyllic room. Restraints on the bed and cameras set up in the four corners of the room.
Noah’s reaction was swift, the contents of his stomach splashing across the hallway floor before he began to shake violently. Adam gripped Noah’s shoulders. “Noah, look at me.”
Noah’s gaze remained unfocused, likely trapped in a vivid memory he couldn’t escape. Adam tried shaking him, but he just swayed on his feet. Out of options, he slapped him hard. Noah’s panicked gaze darted to Adam, like he couldn’t remember where he was or what was happening to him.
“Baby. Listen to me very carefully. Focus on my voice and breathe.” Noah stared at him, mimicking Adam’s deep breaths. “I need you to go outside and get in the car. Can you do that for me? I need to clean this up.”
Noah looked at the vomit covering the floor like he didn’t know how it got there. Maybe he didn’t. “Go. I’ll be right behind you. I promise. Here. Take the keys.”
When Noah didn’t reach for them, Adam took his hand and dropped them into his palm, curling his fingers around the steel. “Go. Go.”