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Authors: Carolyn Gray

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straighten, eyes watering and head thrown back. “Oh, my God. Oh, my God.”

Lee closed and locked the door, then grabbed Gev gently by the arm and pulled him into

the yard. “It’s okay. You’re okay, Gev. Breathe deep.”

Gev dug his fingers into Lee’s arms. He knew he was hurting Lee, but the horror was too

vivid in his mind. “I can’t… I can’t ever go back there.” The thought of it made him want to

puke. “My stuff, I have things in there, all ruined—”

“Not everything will be. Is there someplace we can go and sit? I should’ve had the cab

wait.”

Gev loosened his grip, feeling his nausea ebb. “Man, that was worse than I thought. I

thought I could handle it.”

Lee snorted. “I don’t see how anyone could.”

Gev stared at the house.
His
house, his former home. He could never go back in there, ever

again. Everything was different now. Had it really only been two days since Chad was killed?

“What about those dudes who clean up after crimes?”

“When we call the detective, I’ll ask her who to call. We’ll get someone in there to clean

up the place, get what stuff you want.”

Gev looked down at his dance clothes, which had last seen the washer that weekend. He

pulled at his shirt. He’d be close to reeking soon. “Fuck, this is all I have. What I have on, a

couple of things at my mom’s.”

“Guess we’ll have to go shopping later. I need a few things myself.”

Gev winced. He didn’t have the money to go out and spend like that. Especially now. Then

he remembered—“I’ve got some stuff in the dryer.”

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131

“You don’t have to go in. I will.”

“No, it’s okay. The laundry is in the garage.” A wave of exhaustion pulled at him.

“Everything’s changed. There’s no going back.” Panic bit at him. “I don’t know what to do.” He

raised a hand toward the house, then dropped it again. “I don’t know what to do.”

He didn’t want Lee to answer, didn’t expect him to. He had to figure things out for

himself. He had to
think
. But he couldn’t here. Not here, with that nightmare inside.

Lee grabbed the duffel. “I’ll go get your stuff.”

As Lee headed around back to the garage, Gev sat on the curb. He propped his forehead on

his hands and stared down at the sidewalk, watching an ant crawl across it with relative purpose.

The ant knew what to do; Gev wished
he
did. He tried to blank out his mind, but it wasn’t

working.

All he could see was his bed, blackened with blood. Chad’s blood.

It only took a few minutes before Lee reappeared, clutching the now full duffel bag. Gev

pushed to his feet, then took the duffel from Lee and slung it over his shoulder. Lee returned to

the front porch, grabbed his own bags, and rejoined him. “Better?” Lee asked.

“I guess. Thanks.” Gev kissed him—a brush across the lips, really, but Lee’s easy response

reassured him.
Lee
reassured him. “I don’t know what I’d do without you here.”

“Glad I am.” Lee reached for his phone. “I’ll call us a cab.”

“No, wait.” Gev put his hand on Lee’s. “I just—” He paused, looking around the

neighborhood,
his
neighborhood. The tightness in his chest had eased a little. “Not yet? I just—”

He gestured down the street, then looked back at Lee. “Not yet.”

“Sure. No problem.”

He searched Lee’s eyes, glad of the understanding he saw there. Adjusting the duffel, he

headed down the sidewalk. He wanted to get somewhere normal to him, somewhere familiar that

wouldn’t remind him of dead bodies and blood on floors and blown-up buildings and getting

sucker-punched in the face, and of whoever the hell wanted to kill him, wanted him to die some

horrible, gruesome, horrendous death.

He was glad Lee understood.

Robert—
Stef
—pulled back behind the side of the neighbor’s house as he watched his

brother and Lee head down the street. Gev had kissed Lee. Stef closed his eyes, dropping his

chin to his chest as the image of that brief but very real kiss seared through him.

He had hoped this would happen, hoped they would find each other, but it hurt even now.

Taking a deep breath, he straightened and looked across the street at Gev’s house once more. All

in all, he’d failed his little brother. He hadn’t meant for things to get so bad, had been stupid to

believe he would get away with sending those tickets. And now two people—two
innocent

people—were dead. If he didn’t figure out what to do, and soon, everything would get even

worse.

He followed after Gev and Lee, making sure they couldn’t see him, though it took all his

willpower not to run straight to them both.

132

Carolyn Gray

Chapter Sixteen

Lee watched Gev as he walked away, head bent down. The guy was clearly in shock. Lee

was too, to be honest; he’d only had a glimpse of that bed, but damn, Chad’s death must have

been brutal. He stayed a few paces behind, giving Gev time to clear his mind.

All in all, though, he thought Gev was holding up better than most would. Lee remembered

his own reaction when he’d learned Nick had been kidnapped. He’d been furious, wanted to

punch someone, his anger so intense, so violent, he’d scared himself. The helplessness had been

worse, though, the long days and nights of worrying over what Nick was going through, what it

would do to him—and, he thought with a grimace, what it would do to Brandon, once Lee had

cared enough to consider his feelings.

He’d been such a rank bastard to Brandon. Wasn’t sure he’d ever forgive himself for that.

That time, the not knowing what had happened to Nick, had been horrible. It was as if his

entire life was affected by events outside himself but in which he had an intrinsic role. A role he

couldn’t change. First Stefan, then Nick. And now Gev was involved in something just as

dangerous, just as terrifying.

At the corner, Gev waited for the light to change, then stepped into the street. At the same

time, out of the corner of his eye, Lee saw the flash of a car that should’ve been rolling to a stop

but instead kept on coming. Gev jerked when someone shouted, “Watch out!” and Lee yelled

“Gev!” He dropped his bags as he leaped toward Gev, then grabbed him and yanked him

backward. They tumbled to the sidewalk, Gev on top of Lee, both of them on top of the duffel.

He didn’t let Gev go and barely avoided smacking his own head on the concrete.

The car fishtailed as it rounded the corner and sped off.

“Are you guys all right?” Two women rushed across the street and hauled them to their

feet.

“That car didn’t stop. I can’t believe they didn’t see you.”

“What? It tried to mow him down. You okay, Gev?”

“Yeah. Yeah. I’m okay.”

Lee let him go only then—Gev obviously knew them—and stared after where the car had

disappeared. What the fuck?

“Are you sure? Your eye looks terrible.”

“I’m fine. I already had that,” Gev was saying behind him.

“Oh, my God, Gev. I can’t believe it, all this—”

“Let’s get them away from here before you lose it,” the other woman said, then hauled Gev

after her. Chest still heaving, Lee grabbed their bags and followed. They didn’t stop until they

reached a closed parking lot across the street. Once safe from any marauding cars, the two

Long Way Home

133

women started peppering Gev with questions—was he really okay, had he hit his head, and on

and on. Lee stood back and watched, almost finding humor in the situation.

Almost.

“I’m okay,” Gev said once again, smiling now at their fussing. Both women wore running

clothes; both had blonde hair tied back into ponytails. In fact, except for the fact that they looked

nothing alike,
everything
about them was alike.

Gev looked at Lee, his expression haunted. “That car—it wanted to hit me.”

“I know,” Lee said.

“I can’t believe this.” Gev ran his hand through his hair. “I’m going to lock myself in a

closet or something. This is ridiculous.” He looked at his elbow—it was rubbed raw. “Fucking

hell.” He looked at Lee. “Thanks. You okay?”

He’d be sore tomorrow, but he was okay. “I’m fine.” Lee brushed off his jeans, noticing

only then that gravel had embedded itself in the palm of his hand. He picked it out, wincing at

the little beads of blood. Great.

“Who’s your friend, Gev?” one of the women asked. She cocked her head to the side,

eyeing Lee. “Have we met?” He started to say no, but she held a hand up. “No, wait. Don’t tell

me.”

Gev rolled his eyes. “You don’t know him.”

The other woman grabbed her friend’s arm. “Your favorite band poster? Hello, Miss Yes-

I-still-had-that-poster-on-the-wall-until-I-was-twenty-five.”

She stared at Lee. Gev was smiling, so Lee let go of the tension that usually found him in

this scenario. Better than Gev freaking out about that car. “No shit. You’re—” She turned to her

friend, blue eyes wide. Then she stared at Lee again, squealed, and threw her hands in the air.

“Oh, my God! I
love
you!” She grabbed him in a big hug, and he couldn’t contain a pained

huffing sound. She stiffened, then let him go, horror on her face. “I’m
so
sorry.” A movement

from Gev drew her attention. “Gev! I am so sorry, so, so sorry,” she said, gathering Gev in a hug.

The other woman smiled lopsidedly at Lee and rolled her brown eyes. “And to think she’s

one of Dallas’s leading consumer-rights attorneys.”

“You’re mocking me,” the attorney said.

“Oh, you love it.”

“Maybe.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” the brown-eyed one teased.

Lee wanted to know more about who they were, but this wasn’t the best place to talk. He

looked around. The menace had passed, the street back to ordinary, but he didn’t trust anything

anymore. “I think we’d better get out of here.”

“Oh! You’re right,” the attorney said. “I’m Drew, by the way.”

“And I’m Trish. And you’re Lee Nelson. And why, Gev Sinclair, did you never say you

knew him?”

“I—” Gev winced. “Sorry.”

“Did you see what happened?” Lee asked. “Did it look like that car sped up?”

Trish pressed her lips into a thin line as she looked down the street. “I don’t know. I wish

that guy hadn’t taken off. He was closer to it.”

134

Carolyn Gray

“What guy?”

“Some guy jogging along the street. He yelled at Gev to watch out. Didn’t you hear him?”

“Yeah, I did,” Gev said.

Lee stilled. “Did he have on a hoodie? A gray one?”
Stef
. Fuck.

“Yeah, he did,” Drew said. “If he hadn’t shouted when he did, Gev probably wouldn’t

have pulled up in time.”

Gev’s eyes widened. “Shit.” He locked eyes with Lee. “I didn’t hear—I thought that was

you.”

“I did yell, but you’d already started to pull back.”

Drew looked at Trish, then Gev. “Where were you headed?”

“Manny’s.”

Drew grabbed him by the chin. “Hey, I heard about the dance studio. Is that how you got

hurt?” His eye was purpled-up nicely. Lee would’ve been amused at the two women, but Gev’s

misery was too clear.

“No, Chad’s dad punched me.”

“Someone out there’s got it in for you, don’t they?” Drew murmured. She released Gev

and touched Trish’s shoulder. “Our house?”

“Yup.”

“No, I can’t put you guys in danger.”

Drew slid her arm through Gev’s. “You look like hell. You’ve been through it, surely—

and where else are you going to go? No, you’re coming home with us, at least for now.”

“We’ll call everyone, let them know to keep an eye out for the hoodie guy and that car,”

Trish said.

“And on the house.”

“Good idea.”

“I know. It was, wasn’t it?”

Gev looked as lost as Lee felt.

Once again, Lee followed after Gev, but this time Gev had his friends on either side of

him, keeping an eye on their surroundings. He seemed to be more at ease in their company.
More

than he is in yours
. Lee couldn’t help the thought. For a moment, he wondered if he should just

leave Gev with these two—this was his neighborhood, after all.

Of course, this was also where his friend had been killed and he’d nearly been mown over.

With a sigh and feeling a bit awkward now, Lee shifted his laptop strap on his shoulder, then

grabbed his and Gev’s bags. He snorted to himself; pack-mule duty was something he was used

to.

Fortunately, it didn’t take long to reach the house. The other three hadn’t stopped talking

as they walked ahead of him. At least Gev seemed better now. Lee headed after them up the

stairs as Drew opened the door and waved in Gev and Trish. When she looked at Lee, her eyes

widened as she took in his burden.

“Oh, my God. I’m so sorry,” Drew said.

Trish yelled from somewhere inside, “Where’s your wallet?”

Long Way Home

135

“Kitchen table, I think,” Drew called back. She reached for the duffel bag. “Let me take

that.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Lee said, tired enough that it was a challenge to keep the peevish

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