Chapter 14

Bryan found himself sitting on the edge of the fountain again. The last two days he'd come back here, during the day while kids were at school. It was quiet here. He was getting better at not breaking down while looking at the memorial now.

And that's what it was to him—a memorial—because his hope was fading fast. He found himself beginning to accept what his mother had tried to tell him before—that he had to be ready to move on.

But it was so fucking hard. There was an empty space in his chest that just ached. All. The. Fucking. Time.

Sgt. Woods said he was still looking into things—which to Bryan meant he didn't have any leads. Apparently, the fingerprint analysis came back on the letter and bracelet, but only his mother's were on the letter (since she had touched it at the table). The leather band had been harder, but they'd gotten a partial print off the top of the snap. Unfortunately, it didn't match anyone in the system, so they were expanding their search—which could take weeks... or months.

And hell, the print could just be some friend who he'd shown the band to. Which was what Sgt. Woods was thinking it might be. But he was still searching whatever databases he could get his tech guy to get a hold of.

And of course, Darrin was still in the wind.

A week now. Friday.

He looked at his watch. Wyatt would have just finished having lunch with his mother about now. Was he feeling sick by then? Did he feel embarrassed to be sick around his mother?

Bryan stared at the 'memorial' bench. Flowers were wilting, the stuffed animals' fur was still damp from the morning dew.

Bryan closed his eyes as he imagined Wyatt getting out of the cab at his apartment. Had Darrin been lying in wait? Had the asshole managed to talk Wyatt into 'talking'?

"What the fuck happened? A flower shop explode?"

Bryan whipped around at the familiar voice, his jaw dropping. For several long seconds, he could only stare, sure he was seeing things.

Then his rage boiled over. His body moved without thinking as he stepped over to the smirking face and smashed his fist into it.

The man staggered, his eyes wide with shock at the assault. When Bryan punched him again, he toppled to his butt in the middle of the sidewalk. Bryan loomed over his target, grabbing a fistful of his shirt.

"Where the fuck is he?" Bryan demanded.

"What the hell, man?" Darrin wiped at the blood leaking from his nose. "Get off me!"

Instead, Bryan dropped a knee into his stomach, eliciting a grunt of pain that Bryan relished. "Where is he? What did you do?"

"I... don't... know... what the hell... you're talkin' about," Darrin gasped between breaths.

"Don't fucking lie to me!" Bryan screamed down at him, his body shaking with rage.

Darrin struggled to throw him off, but Bryan wasn't budging. There was no way he was letting this asshole go. Keeping his grip on Wyatt's ex, he dug out his phone and dialed 911.

"Granger County 911. What is your emergency?" the operator intoned.

"Tell Sgt. Woods I'm fucking sitting on Darrin Roque in Marshall Park," Bryan growled.

There was a moment of stunned silence on the other end. "Excuse me, sir?"

Darrin was staring at him incredulously. "You called the police? You're the one who assaulted me!"

Bryan ignored the worm of a man under his knee. "Just send the police to Marshall Park, by the fountain.

"They are on their way, sir. Would you please hold—"

He dropped his phone next to him, ignoring the rest of what she was saying. Glancing around, he realized that several people were gathering to watch the spectacle he was causing, a few of which had their own cell phones out. He wondered if someone else had already called the police.

"Is that the Roque guy?" he heard whispers around him.

"I think so."

"I hope that guy beats him bloody."

Apparently, Darrin was beginning to realize that the on-lookers were not interested in helping him, some of them looked ready to join Bryan. As sirens wailed in the distance, Darrin continued to frown.

"What the hell is going on?"

"Where the hell have you been? Did you take him somewhere? Leave him?" Bryan demanded.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?" Darrin bellowed. "I just got back from visiting my mother, and you jump my ass like I killed your dog or something!"

Bryan froze. "Your mother?"

Darrin squinted at him. "Yeah, I do have one, you know, asshole."

"What about Wyatt?"

Darrin's face was blank, except for a confused frown. "What about him?"

"Where is he?" Bryan growled again, sure the man was hiding something.

"How the hell should I know?! I just got back in town. What the hell is going on?"

Bryan was momentarily stunned, his grip loosening. "You—you really don't know?"

"No!"

Oh, fuck. He dropped heavily to the side of his quarry, releasing Darrin completely as he braced his head in his hands. Shit, shit, shit.

If Darrin didn't know about Wyatt, then who the hell had abducted him?

Darrin sputtered as he sat up, and both men glared at each other.

"I'm filing assault charges against you, asshole. What do you think Wyatt's gonna think when he has to bail your ass out of jail? Huh?"

Bryan narrowed his eyes. "Wyatt's been missing since last Friday."

Darrin looked like Bryan had flicked him between the eyes. "W-what?"

"The police have been waiting to 'talk' to you about his disappearance," Bryan grunted, looking up to see several officers running toward them.

Darrin looked up too as he finally realized just what Bryan was saying. As an officer hauled Darrin to his feet, he still gaped in shock.

"Wait! I didn't do anything!" Darrin suddenly yelled.

"Sir, you are wanted for questioning in the disappearance of Wyatt Kinnon," one of the officers stated, holding his arm.

Darrin jerked, but the cop kept a grip, the other officers looked ready to jump in as well.

"I was at my mother's! I've been gone all week. I haven't seen Wyatt since Friday morning. I was just coming to see if he was here."

"Sir, will you go willingly or do I need to arrest you?"

Darrin stilled, suddenly realizing he could be making things so much worse for himself. "Fine, but what about that asshole? He assaulted me! In front of all these people!"

The officer looked torn. It was quite obvious that Darrin had been punched. "It is your choice, sir. Do you wish to press charges against Mr. Foxgrove?"

Bryan could see Darrin's brain working, taking in the angry mob around him. Bryan fully expected to be arrested right alongside Darrin, but he didn't care. When he'd seen Darrin, his hope had flared back to life. But now, it was like an icy torrent had been doused on his heart. His last hope was that Darrin would lead him to Wyatt.

"He's really missing?" Bryan was surprised at the whispered question and looked up from where he was still sitting on the ground.

The empathy and worry in those brown eyes that he'd come to hate caught him off guard. Bryan nodded morosely, and Darrin's gaze flickered over to the bench.

"Sir?" the officer asked Darrin again.

"Uh, no." Darrin swallowed hard. "No charges."

There was an odd collective sigh of relief from the crowd, and Bryan felt warmed by their concern. Even the officers let loose a small smile of gratitude toward Darrin Roque.

Bryan still wasn't sure Darrin deserved it. He was still an asshole. Just not the one who'd taken Wyatt from him.

@@@@

"Hey, Simon," Bryan greeted the older man. "Is my mom busy?"

"She's talking with a couple about a wedding at the moment, but she should be done in a few minutes. If you want to go on back and wait, I'll tell her you're here."

"Yeah, thanks man," Bryan smiled weakly.

After his encounter with Darrin, Bryan hadn't felt like he could face his empty house again. Roque's look as he'd walked away with the officers told Bryan everything—and nothing at the same time.

Darrin's eyes had told him that Darrin hadn't taken Wyatt. He might actually even truly love Wyatt in his own twisted way. The asshole might actually even be sorry he'd been harassing Wyatt—if for no other reason than because it had made him the prime suspect.

But he knew nothing about what happened to Wyatt. Leaving Bryan with nothing. Less than nothing, because hope that Darrin would supply the answers was gone.

"Mr. Foxgrove, I just want you to know that I'm so sorry for what you are going through," Simon offered. "I could see how much young Mr. Kinnon meant to you. How much you meant to each other."

Oh, hell. Bryan blinked back his emotions. "Uh, thanks, Simon."

"Of course." With a slight nod, Simon Lefebvre disappeared, leaving Bryan to make his way to his mom's private quarters and wait.

The small living room looked like it always did, sun pouring in through the windows glazing the room in warmth. He dropped his coat on a dining room chair and headed for the kitchen. He needed a beer, but he knew his mom wouldn't have one, so he settled for a can of coke. After popping it open, his stomach gave out a loud growl, making its unhappiness at skipping lunch known.

Of course, he hadn't had much of an appetite for the last week, but Sarah had kept riding him about eating, his mother did too. He was sure she'd try to feed him when she came in, so he decided to beat her to it and fix something for both of them.

Staring at the fridge, he saw she had some luncheon meat, along with a couple kinds of cheeses. Pulling those out as well as lettuce and tomato, he set them on the counter and opened a jar of mayonnaise before he realized he didn't see any bread.

Crap.

He almost put everything away when he snapped his fingers—the pantry. He opened the door to the small closet, searching the shelves for a loaf of bread.

Mostly there were canned vegetables, soup, boxes of cereal, mac & cheese...

Mac & cheese. "Huh. Mom hates mac & cheese; wonder why she bought it?" he mumbled to himself as he stared at the box. "Weird."

The finished his perusal of the pantry, finally finding a loaf of bread on the top shelf.

"Bryan! Sweetheart!" his mother's voice startled him. "What on earth are you doing in the pantry?"

He held up the loaf of bread. "Getting bread to make us sandwiches. You know I'm not much of a cook, so this is about it. Wyatt is really the better cook—" he broke off as he looked up at his mother. "Are you okay, mom? You look a little pale."

Her hand fluttered around her throat as if she were calming herself. "Oh, I'm fine. Just a little worn out is all. Wedding planning can be exhausting."

Bryan turned to the counter, not wanting his mother to see how upset he was at the mention of weddings. Knowing his would never happen made it doubly hard to hear about others right now.

"So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" She stepped up next to him, offering him a kiss on his cheek.

He shrugged. "You know, just... missed our weekly lunch."

She rubbed circles on his back as she beamed at him. "Well, I certainly won't turn that down. I'm glad you came today. I have to be out tomorrow, running errands, so I wouldn't have time to see you until next week probably."

Bryan forced a smile. "Ahh, good. Then it all worked out."

He quickly slapped together some sandwiches that didn't look any more appetizing than anything else he'd had this week. He made small talk asking his mother about her errands tomorrow, but she was vague and obviously not really wanting to talk about work. As they sat down, his mother eyed him worriedly as he sipped his coke.

"Honey, what's wrong? You seem so down..."

He quirked an eyebrow at her, wondering if she'd really just said that.

"Well, more down than you have been lately," she amended. "Has something happened?"

Bryan sighed. "Darrin's back."

"You mean the ex, right?" his mother sipped carefully at her lemonade.

"Yes." Bryan clutched at the can in front of him.

"And?"

"And he doesn't know anything about Wyatt's disappearance," Bryan sighed heavily.

"Oh, I'm so sorry sweetheart. I know you were so hoping when they caught up with him that he'd have answers for you. Are they sure he's telling the truth? Could he manage to lie to the police? You know some people can lie through their teeth."

"God, mom, I saw it in his eyes. I don't need Sgt. Woods to tell me. Darrin's a self-serving prick, but he didn't do this."

"I see," she said carefully. He could tell she was treading cautiously now that both he and Sarah had snapped at her. "I'm sure the police will come up with something soon."

"No, mom, you were right," he sighed heavily. "I'm living in this...this fugue state...unable to do anything. I don't eat, I can't sleep, I haven't been to work, I just keep thinking 'what could I have done?' But... the answer is... nothing. I couldn't have prevented some random psycho from snatching my Wyatt away from me, could I?" his voice broke as he dropped his head into his hand. "I couldn't save him."

He felt cool finger wrap around his wrist and tug, causing him to slowly look up at his mother. Her head tilted and she offered a sympathetic smile. She wrapped her fingers around his hand. "I love you, sweetheart."

"I know, mom."

@@@@

Wyatt could hardly remember what it felt like to be warm anymore. Or dry. Most of the time he only regained consciousness when the next torrent of glacial water was dumped over him. And even then, he couldn't stay awake very long now.

The water bottle Eddie had blessed him with was woefully empty now. And he was beginning to think it might be better, quicker. He had no idea how long he'd been chained in the basement, but he knew he hadn't seen Eddie in a long time—well, what seemed like a long time.

While his extremities felt tingly with numbness, some fingers and toes looked a bit blue, his head felt like it was on fire. It was such an odd feeling to be both freezing and burning at the same time. Most of the time he just lay on his side now, drifting in and out of consciousness, awaiting the frigid baths.

For a while after Eddie left, Wyatt had hoped that Bryan's brother might say something. But when time dragged on and no one came but his lover's crazy mother, he lost hope. Either Eddie didn't tell or no one had listened to him. He'd have laughed out loud if he'd had the energy because he knew it sounded insane that Carol Foxgrove had him chained in her basement. Poor Eddie. Even if he tried to tell, would anyone really believe him?

Wyatt felt his chest seize as a coughing fit wracked his body. He spit out the mucus in the bucket, since he wasn't using it for other purposes anymore, noting how much blood was mixed in. The horrible taste of iron lingered in his mouth.

He didn't even react anymore when he heard those heeled footsteps on the stairs. She came down every so often to give him his 'bath' as she called it. So when he sensed her looming over him, he didn't even open his eyes.

Fingers threaded through his hair yanking his head up off the ground. He didn't have the energy to fight her, even though he tried to summon it.

"Ahh, so close," she crooned. He didn't respond so she let go of his head, dropping it to the stone floor.

"I'll have to pick up Eddie so he can help me move you."

"No," he croaked.

She seemed startled that he even spoke. "What?"

"Leave... Eddie... alone."

"Hah, you don't get to make decisions anymore. Don't worry," Carol's voice washed over him like slippery eel. "It's almost over. Can't you tell?"

And he could.