Unhinged by Onley James

Noah did go to bed, and he was exhausted, but it was impossible to sleep. He couldn’t stop his racing thoughts. No matter what he did, Calliope’s words kept creeping back into his head. “They could still be living with their abuser, like Noah was.”

Like Noah.

There were dozens, maybe even hundreds, of kids who were just like him, victims of the worst kind of abuse. The kind that stains a person’s whole life, even when they didn’t remember it. What were those children’s lives like? Had they been lucky enough to forget, too? Had they even lived long enough to talk about it? Were they spiraling like Noah had before he met Adam?

Calliope was right. They needed to find these kids and, somehow, make sure they got some kind of help or, at the very least, justice. If Adam had known Holt was not his father but his abuser—if he’d remembered the abuse and torture he’d endured sooner—he would have thanked Adam for killing the man. Even if foster care had sucked. Even if he’d spent years living in a constant state of uncertainty. Holt being dead would have been worth all of it.

Noah couldn’t imagine a world with Holt still in it and felt a wave of relief every time he remembered the man was dead. He scrubbed his hands over his face. What if the fragmented hard drive showed nothing? They’d only managed to get half of it at most. Noah knew nothing about computers, but he knew the whole drive had to be better than half.

Noah sat up, throwing off the covers. He could go get it. He still had the key. He could slip in and out without Gary even knowing he had ever been there. Then Calliope would have the whole drive, not just pieces of the puzzle.

As quickly as inspiration stuck, it evaporated, disappointment replacing his excitement. Even if he could get to Gary’s house, he didn’t know anything about cloning hard drives or any other technology outside a cell phone. Adam had taken care of that part. He didn’t even fully understand what cloning was, but he assumed it was like taking a photocopy.

Noah flushed at his own stupidity. He didn’t need a photocopy. Gary was already onto them. Noah just needed the original. He could take the laptop. There was no way Gary wasn’t putting it all together, even if he hadn’t installed the cameras in the storage unit. Noah didn’t have to be careful anymore, and even he could steal one fucking laptop. Hell, he’d stolen Gary’s backpack right under his nose.

If he took the laptop, Calliope would theoretically have everything. Even if the boys’ names weren’t on it, there had to be something to help them unravel this fucking mess of victim and abuser. He took a deep breath and let it out, just as Calliope had done earlier. He was doing it. Even if it was a bad idea. Even if it was the worst idea ever. Those kids deserved some kind of justice.

He grabbed his phone, looking at the time. Midnight. Gary would definitely be at the club at that time of night. Noah dropped his phone back onto the side table and stood, shoving his legs back into his jeans and throwing on a t-shirt. Once he had his phone and wallet, he ordered an Uber and went to meet it out front.

He slipped into the icy interior of a Lincoln Navigator, shivering as the leather seats grazed his skin. He was grateful the driver didn’t try to make conversation. It already felt like there was a hornet’s nest in Noah’s stomach. Was he really doing this? Yes, he was, and Adam was going to fucking kill him.

But Adam wasn’t the boss of him. At least, that was what he told himself. Still, Noah pulled his phone out, firing off a text before he could think better of it.

Can’t sleep. Going to get the hard drive from Gary’s. Be back soon. Love you.

He hit send before he realized what he’d typed. He stared down at those last two words. It was true. He did love Adam, but he’d never said so. For a number of reasons. They barely knew each other. It seemed insane to declare his love after just a couple of weeks.

But more than that, it was because he knew Adam couldn’t reciprocate. And saying I love you only to hear nothing back would break something in him, even if that wasn’t fair to Adam. Thomas had warned Noah, and he’d said it didn’t matter. And it didn’t in a big picture kind of way.

Adam protected him, comforted him, gave him what he needed as long as Noah gave clear, concise instructions. Adam did everything he could to show Noah that they belonged together. He knew it, too. He did. On the most basic, fundamental level, Noah knew there was nobody else for him but Adam. They were…bonded. Even if that bond was formed through blood and trauma. Or maybe because of it.

But Adam would never have butterflies over Noah, would never ache from missing him, wouldn’t long for him when they were apart, would never get that breathless, caught up feeling that came from just knowing that person was near. Part of Noah envied him, while the other part hurt for him. Those things were both a blessing and a curse.

Noah looked down at his screen at the photo of the two of them that Adam had turned into Noah’s wallpaper. They looked so normal, so in love. In the picture, Adam was lying beside him, their heads slotted together, both making stupid faces. Adam didn’t look like somebody who couldn’t love Noah. Adam looked like he did love Noah and Adam never pretended with him.

Noah once more took a deep breath and let it out.

“Everything okay?” the driver asked.

Noah’s head bobbed. “Yes, I’m fine. Just tired.”

The driver once more went back to ignoring him, and Noah watched the world pass by in a swirl of headlights. The truth was, it didn’t matter if Adam loved him or not. Noah wasn’t going anywhere. The chemicals Adam’s brain denied him—the ones that released endorphins or dopamine or whatever it was that tricked people into thinking they were in love—were the same ones that told Noah nobody else mattered, nobody but Adam.

Hell, Adam hadn’t even needed those chemicals to choose Noah. He just had. He’d looked at Noah and decided he was his person. The one he’d kill for, die for, choose over any other, including his own family. So, that had to be better, right? Making the decision to do those things without the chemicals. It felt better to Noah. It felt like love. So, that was what Noah would call it. Adam loved Noah in every way he could.

Fifteen minutes later, they pulled into Gary’s development. Noah asked the Uber driver to stop a block from the house, choosing to approach on foot. Once he saw the drive was empty, he strode to the front door, key from the other night in hand, unlocking the door and entering like he had a right to be there.

Once inside, he headed directly into Gary’s office, stopping short at the wall of boxes. Moving boxes. Neatly taped and stacked on top of each other in the corners of the rooms. Noah’s heart galloped in his chest. Where the fuck was he going? Did Gary think they were on to him? Had he alerted the others?

Noah shook the thought away. People fucking moved all the time. Maybe he was just being paranoid. He needed to concentrate on the task at hand. He had a job to do. He needed to get that laptop. He weaved his way around the boxes, dropping into Gary’s office chair, relieved to see the key still beneath the tray in the top drawer where Adam had returned it. He put the key in the lock. It gave with a soft click. But when he opened the drawer, it was empty.

Fuck.

Acid sloshed in Noah’s stomach, frustration making his chest tight. He slammed his fist onto the desk, fury and frustration overwhelming his system. Goddamn it. Maybe it was all too late. Maybe the whole thing had already blown up in their faces.

No.

Laptops were portable. He couldn’t imagine that Gary would bring it to the club with him. Not after his backpack was stolen. It had to be there somewhere. Adam kept his laptop on the dining room table. He rose, slipping between the stacks of boxes to the hallway. He tried to keep his search orderly, working room to room. He didn’t check the boxes. He found it hard to believe somebody would pack a laptop away.

Unless he had. Unless he didn’t use it that often. Shit. Was it packed away? Lying at the bottom of one of the many boxes? The laptop certainly wasn’t anywhere obvious. Noah had scoured the rooms. Even Gary’s bedroom. And nothing.

Fuck it.

He went to the kitchen, relieved to see the silverware hadn’t been packed. He grabbed a small paring knife and made his way back to the office. He sliced the first box, lip curling when he saw it was nothing but old file folders and bank statements. He tossed the box aside before moving on to the next. He was done with orderly. Each box that produced nothing was tossed aside until Noah was surrounded by paper and upturned boxes littered the floor.

Noah jumped as his phone started to vibrate in his pocket, his heart rate skyrocketing before he realized what it was. He pulled it free, glancing down at the screen. Adam. He swiped to answer it but froze at the sound of a gun being cocked.

He whipped around to find Gary standing there, a fifty caliber Desert Eagle in his hand. It was huge, so big it made Gary’s hands seem small in comparison. Of course, he’d have a gun that big. So fitting.

Gary sneered. “You always were a little street rat.”

“Hey, Gary,” Noah said, voice coming out chipper with just a hint of fear, even though his heart was in his stomach and blood was whooshing in his ears. “I thought you’d be at the club.”

Gary snorted. “Clearly. Drop the phone and kick it to me.”

He did his best not to lose his composure as he did as Gary asked, watching as the man pocketed his phone. Would Adam come to look for him when he didn’t answer his call? He must have seen Noah’s text, right? Maybe he was already on his way. Noah just had to keep Gary talking long enough for Adam to find him.

“How’d you know I was here?”

“Silent alarm. Rudimentary, but it’s only temporary. After you stole my backpack and then broke into my house, I knew I needed something short term until I move. My new house has a much better, more sophisticated alarm system. Can’t be too careful, right?”

“I guess not,” Noah muttered. If he lived through this, Adam was never going to let him do anything alone ever again.

Gary gestured to his desk chair. “Have a seat.”

Noah was grateful Gary hadn’t put a bullet in his head with that cannon he was holding but couldn’t help but wonder why? He was somehow both terrified and numb at the same time. As if, once more, his brain was trying to keep him removed from how fucked he was. He couldn’t let Gary know. He needed to play it cool until Adam came for him.

If Adam was coming for him.

Please, let Adam be coming for me.

“Sorry about the mess,” Noah quipped, a slow smirk spreading across his face. “I might be a street rat, but you’re kind of a pack rat.”

Gary took two steps into the room, eyes glinting with hatred. “You have always been far more trouble than you were worth.”

Noah leaned forward, resting his forearms on the desk. “Then maybe you and Holt should have left me in Mexico.”

Gary’s eyes widened, mouth opening and closing before he seemed to regain his composure. “How did you figure that out? That’s not even in those records you stole from me. It’s also not on the hard drive you took from the cabin.”

“I submitted my DNA to one of those ancestry sites. You’d be amazed at what you can find on those things. Like the fact Holt wasn’t my dad. Or how I have a whole other family in Texas. A real family. One you deprived me of.”

Gary took his time with that bit of information. “You really are a nosey little bastard. Where’s my backpack? I want it back.”

Noah eased back in the chair, rocking slowly. “What for? Seems like you make plenty of money and you clearly don’t need any more guns. What could possibly be so interesting about that ugly black backpack?” Noah queried.

“None of your business.”

“Could it be that random string of letters and numbers I found rolled up in the pocket? The encryption key.”

Noah had thought to shock Gary again, but his physical response was troubling. He flushed an almost purple color, beads of sweat erupting on his forehead and upper lip. “You don’t get it, do you? You fucked everything.” He shook his head. “This whole thing”—he gestured around with the gun—“just got out of hand.”

“This whole thing?” Noah echoed. “You mean your pedophile ring? What’s the matter? No longer just an intimate gathering of depraved rapists? Too many people crash your party?”

Sweat was actively rolling down Gary’s face. Noah wondered if he might be on the verge of a heart attack. “It wasn’t like that. We cared about those boys. We tried to be gent—”

Noah slammed his fist down on the desk, startling Gary. “Don’t. Don’t you dare say you were…” Noah sucked in a breath through his nose, trying to pull himself together. Now wasn’t the time to piss Gary off. Noah needed to stay alive.

Besides, Gary had a date with Adam and his brothers. “I’ve got a hard drive and two boxes full of records that say otherwise. Did O’Hara teach you all of his tricks for abusing kids? Did he think of all of you as his proteges? Keep the tradition going?”

Gary wiped at his brow with the sleeve of his black button down shirt. “He taught us that our impulses were natural. Showed us books and…other things that proved we weren’t crazy or perverts. That it’s just evolutionary.”

Jesus fucking Christ. “Do you really believe that shit? Really? Like, deep down, do you hear the things you’re saying and think it makes sense, or do you just use it as an excuse for all the suffering you’ve caused? These are little kids. Do you know how many lives you’ve ruined? If your intentions are so pure, why is it so many kids have ended up dead once you’re done with them?”

Gary sniffed as if the topic of dead children was somehow more distasteful than abusing them. “You’ll never understand. The outside world…polite society, they’ll never understand. We didn’t kill all of them. Just the troublemakers. The ones who swore they would talk no matter how many times we tried to persuade them otherwise. We didn’t want to do that, but there are too many power players in the mix now. It just keeps growing, and the higher up the food chain the members go, the more dangerous it becomes if we get caught. But you…you turned out fine.”

“Fine?” Noah snapped. “What you did to me was so traumatic I blocked it out entirely.”

Gary blinked sweat from his eyes. Noah couldn’t help but wonder if he was on something or if he was truly afraid of what might happen to him if he couldn’t get that encryption key back from Noah.

“You were our first,” he said. “Did you know that? Wayne and I were down in Mexico. He knew some people down that way who could…find us what we were looking for.”

Noah frowned, heartbeat hammering against his ribs. “So, somebody arranged for you to kidnap me?”

Gary scoffed, shaking his head. “No, that’s the thing. Your father saw you—”

“Stop calling him that,” Noah snapped, like it was he who had the gun, not Gary. “That man was never my father.”

“Fine, Wayne saw you and was instantly in love. You were so pretty. You were playing in the street with some older kids. And he just walked right up and held out his hand…and you took it. Just walked right off with him like it was fate.”

Noah’s vision began to go fuzzy at the edges. This time, it was him beginning to sweat. Was Gary rewriting history? Had Noah truly just walked away with Holt? How had nobody noticed?

“It wasn’t planned,” Gary continued wistfully, like he was enjoying his stroll down memory lane. “We honestly thought we’d get caught almost instantly. But…somehow, the stars aligned. A little cough syrup and a short ride in the trunk and we made it back to the States with you without any issues at all. Then you were ours. A child completely off the grid. Nobody knew you existed.”

Noah’s blood ran cold. He swallowed hard as his memories beat against the wall he’d built around them. He’d been the perfect victim. They could do whatever they wanted to him. And they had. “You’re monsters.”

Gary looked surprised by that response. “We spoiled you rotten. You never had to go to school. Wayne taught you himself. You got cake for breakfast and all the toys you could play with. All you had to do was ask for it, and we happily complied. Was the trade-off really that bad?”

Noah swallowed the bile climbing up his throat. “Yes. Killing me would have been kinder.”

“You’re being dramatic,” Gary chided.

Dramatic. He wasn’t dramatic enough. “So, why did you have to hurt the others if you had me? Your perfect victim?” Noah couldn’t hide the disgust in his voice.

Gary shrugged. “You got old. Well, for us. We had offers on you. Lots of them. You’ve always been beautiful. Those freckles alone would have made us a fortune, but then somebody murdered your father—Wayne—and everything went to shit. You were supposed to be mine. Wayne left you to me. Left it all to me. Even the rope I needed to hang all the others, so I could keep them in line. Mutually assured destruction is a powerful motivator.”

Noah’s head hurt. His heart hurt. But he had to keep him talking. “How many are there now?”

Gary’s brow furrowed. “How many what?”

“How many others are out there who are just like me?”

Gary shrugged once more. “I don’t know anymore. I just procure the boys and provide the use of my cabin so nobody is disturbed. Partake from time to time. We all have our parts to play.”

If Noah had held the gun, Gary’s brains would be painted across that room. But he didn’t. “And who exactly do you answer to?”

Gary scoffed. “I think you know the answer to that.”

He did. “O’Hara. Your mentor. He runs you all around like his chess pieces and you just go and do his bidding. You’re pathetic.”

“Yet, you’re the one with the gun to his head,” Gary reminded, his voice growing cold.

“He’s not the only one.”

Noah let out a sigh of relief at Adam’s voice. He stepped forward out of the shadows, a much smaller gun trained on Gary.

Gary’s eyes went wide but he didn’t lower his weapon. “Who the fuck are you?”

Adam pressed the gun to Gary’s temple. “I’m the guy who killed your boyfriend. Now, drop the gun.” Gary hesitated. “Do it now and I won’t fillet you before I kill you. Make me take it from you and I’ll make sure you die screaming.”

Gary lowered his arm, the gun slipping from his fingers, head swiveling back and forth between Noah and Adam, like he couldn’t quite get the pieces to fit. “You couldn’t have killed Wayne unless you’ve been swimming in the fountain of youth. You would’ve just been a kid.”

“I was sixteen. But I’m not anymore. And I promise you, I’m going to enjoy killing you far more than I did Holt.”

Noah’s tongue darted out to lick over his lower lip. He wanted nothing more than to watch Gary take a bullet. But then inspiration struck.

“Wait!” he cried.“I have an idea.”

Adam arched his brow. “I’m listening.”