Chapter 17

Breathe.

He kept telling himself to keep breathing. Every so often his body felt suddenly heavy, like someone was sitting on his chest again, and he'd realize he needed to breathe. Logically, he knew he was breathing, of course, but it was so shallow now that his body would abruptly realize he wasn't drawing in enough oxygen and he'd feel heavy and floaty at the same time before he sucked in a deeper breath, often setting off a series of coughs.

Breathe.

He didn't even bother opening his eyes anymore. He tried hard not to move much as the scraping of the stone on his raw skin felt like claws ripping through his flesh.

Breathe.

Expecting each breath now to be his last, he tried to focus on Bryan and Sarah and his students—anything but where he was now. He didn't want his last thoughts to be of pain and fear. He hoped Sarah eventually found someone to love her like he loved Bryan. He wished for all his students to excel in whatever they chose to do. Sometimes he even imagined Marc and the other boys going on to win world recognition in skateboarding because they loved it so much.

Breathe.

But mostly he'd pray that Bryan remembered how much he loved him.

Breathe.

Why the hell was someone sitting on him again?

Oh. Breathe...

Bryan...

So dark...so...cold...

Bre...

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Nathan pulled the squad car in behind Valens's cab. The cabbie had been willing to wait for them on Monroe street, one of his popular pick up places that was convenient for both of them. Jim Valens hopped out of the taxi as soon as they pulled in behind him, offering his hand in greeting.

"Officers." He nodded to both, shaking the sergeant's hand.

"Thanks for meeting with us, Mr. Valens."

"No problem," he said, leaning against the trunk of his cab. "But I'm not really sure how much help I can be."

"We just wanted to ask you a couple more questions about the passenger you picked up at Turner Mansion," Woods stated.

"You mean the Kinnon guy, right? The one that's still missing."

Woods didn't confirm or deny Valens's question. "Can you tell me again what you remember of your passenger that afternoon?"

"Oh, well, he had on that brown hat, with the reddish-maroon scarf, and—"

"Do you remember anything about the actual person, not the clothes they were wearing?" Woods interrupted.

Valens's brows shot up at the question. "Oh. Um." He frowned and appeared to be thinking hard. "Geez, I really didn't see much, and I have a really good memory for details too, but... I mean, of course, he was white, on the smaller side, I'd say..."

"Hair color, eye color, any distinguishing marks...?"

Jim Valens rubbed at his chin, frustrated he hadn't noticed more than the person's clothes. "Damn, I really don't know. I believe I saw some blond strands of hair. He kept those sunglasses on so I didn't see his eyes either."

"What about his hands? You were handed the money and address, correct?"

Valens nodded.

"Did you notice anything about the hands?"

"Hmmm, well, now that you mention it... I kinda thought they looked, you know..." He leaned in to whisper conspiratorially. "...sort a feminine."

Sgt. Woods glanced at his partner who quickly recorded that information. "I see. Could you tell for certain whether the person who got in your cab was a man or a woman?"

Valens opened his mouth but stopped and frowned. "Uh, well, I just assumed it was a guy... basically because of the way they were dressed, but..." He shrugged. "It could have been either, I guess. The coat and hat were more of a men's style so..." He cocked his head at the officers. "Are you saying that maybe the Kinnon guy wasn't who I picked up?"

"We are looking into every possibility," Sgt. Woods said evasively. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Valens."

"Sure, anytime." He waved as the officers walked off.

Nathan looked over at Janet as they made their way back to the squad car. They both shared a long meaningful look.

"Well, he definitely wasn't describing Edward Foxgrove dressed up as Kinnon there."

"Nope," Janet agreed. "But he certainly didn't rule out someone else who could have fit the description."

"Well, there were only two other people at the mansion that we know of—Simon Lefebrve and Carol Foxgrove."

"Who's your money on?" his partner asked with a conspiratorial smile.

"I think we need to go talk to Carol Foxgrove," Nathan said definitively.

Janet Lettman nodded. "Yep, I'd say so."

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"Eddie! Hurry up and finish your lunch. We have a trip to make," his mother snapped at him.

Eddie slumped over his huge bowl of mac and cheese, trying to finish it before she took it away. He had hoped Bryan would visit this time, but mama seemed to be in a hurry today.

When he stood up, she tossed an old blanket at him, and he looked at it oddly. "Take that downstairs with you. Wrap him up and get him upstairs."

He frowned at her. "Wyatt still cold?"

"Yes, but I have his clothes right here. We're going to put them on him before taking him... to his home in the forest," she said sharply.

"Bryan be happy to have Wyatt home," Eddie said cheerfully. "Bryan sad with no Wyatt."

She paused as she set the pile of clothes on the table. "He's only sad because he doesn't know how much that man was hurting him."

Eddie frowned, confused. "Bryan loves Wyatt."

"Shut up!" she hissed back at him, causing him to recoil. "Bryan doesn't know what he wants. That's why we are helping him."

"You let Wyatt out of time out now?" Eddie asked hesitantly, as he often did when he hoped she was coming to let him out. Always a question, a plea, never a demand.

Her smile was familiar, and he didn't like it. Sometimes mama's smiles meant bad things.

"Bryan waiting for Wyatt to come out of time out...so he can be happy again," Eddie stated, excited to be helping to make his brother happy.

"Yes, we'll be taking him out to the car. Time's running short now, we need to get him out of here," she murmured.

"Good. Bryan be excited. Told him Wyatt be out soon and say he sorry."

"What?" She whirled on him, her eyes blazing.

"B-bryan s-sad...Wyatt's time out too long... made Bryan sadder. Told him Wyatt be home soon. Wyatt love him. Make him not as sad."

The sharp slap to his cheek shocked and stung. He backed away as his mother seemed to tower over him, even if she was physically smaller. "Stupid! When the hell did you talk to your brother?"

Eddie stared agape at her, holding his hand to his burning cheek. It had been a while since she'd done that. Of course, these days Bryan was usually with them when he saw his mother.

"F-few days... B-bryan came to visit," he stammered hesitantly, not sure what had earned him punishment this time. Making Bryan happy should be good, right?

His mother sighed heavily, seeming to think back and even calmed down. "Your brother was just here yesterday, and he didn't say anything about it," she muttered, waving her hand in his direction, "so he must have just chalked it off to your incoherent ramblings."

"I'm...I'm sorry?" he tested, not wanted to earn her ire.

"Just get down there and get him ready to go," she ordered.

"Yes, mama." He turned, clutching the old blanket, and hurried to the pantry, being careful not to knock down any boxes or cans this time. Opening the hidden door to the basement, he breathed a soft sigh to be away from his mother for a few moments. He left the door open since he'd be coming right back up.

He bounced down the creaky stairs, excited to be getting Wyatt ready to go back home to make Bryan happy. He froze on the bottom of the steps as he looked at the man he'd left in his mother's care last weekend.

"Oh..." he gulped, suddenly anxious and worried for the man sprawled on the floor. "Mama didn't do very good."

He stepped closer, his eyes taking in the blue-tinged skin and pale face of the man curled on his side, hands drawn in close to his chest. Eddie squatted down, dropping the blanket as he reached out to touch the man's damp golden hair.

"Wyatt?" he asked.

Nothing. His felt panic rise up his throat when Wyatt didn't move, didn't even look like he was breathing as he lay there on his side. A little blood and mucus pooled on the floor next to him, and Eddie could see blood on his lips.

Oh. Oh, no. Bryan would not be happy. Eddie wasn't happy. Mama had let Wyatt stay cold. Cold wasn't good.

He pushed a little on Wyatt's shoulder, causing the man to roll limply to his back, but Wyatt still didn't wake up. Eddie noticed a cut on Wyatt's shoulder that looked jagged and scarred. He didn't remember seeing it before, but Wyatt had been curled on his stomach the last time he'd seen him. And Wyatt's ribs protruded now.

He laid his huge hand on Wyatt chest, flinching at how cold he seemed. But he waited...waited...

Tiniest movement under his hand as Wyatt's chest rose ever so slightly. A light throb beat against his palm. Good.

Eddie grabbed the blanket, rolling Wyatt to his side to wrap the worn cotton around the thin, icy shoulders. He struggled to sit Wyatt up enough to get the blanket cocooned around the pretty man.

"I get up upstairs, let mama know you're sick. She get you better," he told the bundle, even though he didn't get a response.

When he tried to stand, Wyatt's body was nearly yanked back out of his hand. Eddie dropped back down as he realized the chain was still anchoring Wyatt to the floor.

The key. Mama had not unlocked the chain and hadn't given him the key.

He carefully placed his bundle back on the ground, cradling the blond head softly with his palm. As he turned to the stairs he noticed the blanket he'd been trying to bring Wyatt last week in a pile in the shadows. He wondered why mama hadn't used that to keep Wyatt warm. Grabbing it, he draped it over Wyatt for added warmth, before heading up the stairs.

"Mama!" he called, finding her scribbling a note with her gloves on.

She looked up. "Well? What's taking you so long? We need to go."

"Wyatt's sick. Needs Dr. Neely." Dr. Neely was the only doctor he knew.

"Sick? No, he's just sleeping, sweetheart," she told him.

Eddie frowned at her, cocking his head. Wyatt looked sick. He didn't wake up when he'd shaken him. "B-but..."

"Just get him up here. I'll take care of him," she ordered, ignoring his protest.

"Can't. Need key."

"Oh, crap, that's right," she muttered under her breath, turning to search for her keys.

As she dug in her purse, she froze at a familiar sound.

The crunch of gravel under tires.

"Shit!" she cursed, startling Eddie. She whipped around, shoving him back toward the pantry. "Stay downstairs! Don't come up until I come get you, no matter what or you'll be in big trouble!"

"Trouble?" Eddied trembled with fear.

"Yes!" she hissed. "Huge trouble. Now go! Stay quiet."

"But Wyatt sick..."

"Go keep him company. Now! He needs you." She shoved harshly at his shoulder causing him to bump the shelves again, this time knocking down several water bottles and shake n' bake boxes, before she slammed the pantry door on him.

He stared at the door a moment, listening to his mom curse briefly before taking several breaths. He leaned down to set the bottles and boxes right, keep one water to take down with him. He heard her put a pot on the stove and open the fridge, dropping something on the counter, and he wondered if she was going to make Wyatt some soup.

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...warm...

...rocking...floating...

He sighed. Finally. It was finally over. It had to be. Because he felt blanketed in warmth. Maybe it was his mom holding him, now that he'd joined her. He wondered what she looked like. He'd never known her but always hoped she'd loved him from heaven still.

The arms wrapped around him were tight, comforting, even if he was only vaguely aware of it. Something nuzzled his head, soft words floated somewhere in his head. He wanted to burrow into the heat, but his body didn't want to listen. He couldn't even drag in a breath...

But he supposed he didn't need to any more. Not here.

He could just be. And love Bryan forever.