Page 262 of What We Bury

“I love you, Holden.”

Notyou guys. Not the group. Just him. Just this man, in this bed, in this house he built for a life he thought he’d never have.

His eyes close. He exhales—long, shaky, the sound of twelve years of loneliness leaving his body in a single breath—and when he opens them again, they’re bright.

He kisses me. Slow and deep and tasting like forever, his hand cradling the back of my head, and I melt into him, into the warmth, into the certainty that whatever comes next—the noose, the threat, the faceless danger circling closer—I will face it with this man beside me. With all of them surrounding me.

SEVENTY-ONE

KNOX

Ihear the bath start.

The pipes in Holden’s house clank when the hot water runs. Above us, water hits porcelain, then a long quiet, then a softer sound—I imagine both of them are in the tub by now.

I clock the thought and let it go. What Holden and Fury do up there is between them. My job is down here.

Milo’s on the couch with his laptop open. Micah’s in the armchair, elbows on his knees, fingers steepled over his mouth. Eli’s at the window with his back to the room.

I sit. The chair takes my weight but creaks with complaint. I’m used to it.

Nobody talks for a while. Then Milo turns the laptop so we can all see the black rectangle of nothing on the screen.

“That’s it,” he says. “That’s what we’ve got.”

“There’s nothing there,” Micah points out.

“Exactly!”

“Define nothing,” Eli says, not turning.

“The buildinghada camera out front. But it died in March. Landlord never replaced it.” Milo’s voice has gone flat and exact,the kill-site version of him, the chaos packed down somewhere I can’t see. “There are no traffic cameras on her street. Nothing on the surrounding buildings.No-thing.” His jaw ticks. “So. No hallway. No door. No eyes on whoever walked into her living room and decided to redecorate.”

The unsaid thing. The thing none of us wanted to say out loud is that if Milo’s cameras were still up, we’d have a face right now. Maybe a name.

“I know you’re frustrated,” Micah says, quiet. “But they were still a violation, Milo. She had every right to take them out.”

“I know that.” Milo doesn’t look up. “Doesn’t mean I have to enjoy being blind.”

“No forced entry,” I say, moving on. “Door was locked when we got there.” I let that sit. “So whoever it was had a key, or the hands to pick one clean and lock it behind them.”

“Tyler has key access,” Milo grinds out. He hasn’t made his hatred of Kavanagh a secret. “Through Amy.”

“He also has a temper, and a reason.” Eli finally turns. His face is hard, the rage banked low. “The timing of this isn’t lost on me. Amy is pulling away. He blames Sage for his hardship. I like him for this.”

“Thank you, Eli,” Milo says. “Let’s go string him up.”

“Not yet,” I say.

Milo throws a hand in the air. “God, you people are no fun.”

“Tyler’s the easy suspect,” Micah says. “That makes me suspicious on principle.”

“Hedoesfit,” I admit.

“He fits angry boyfriend with a bruised ego,” Micah replies. “He doesn’t fit careful. While I hate the guy as much as you all do, I don’t think we should kill him just to make ourselves feel better. I’d rather find the right guy.”

“Stephen,” Milo grinds out.