Page 59 of The Bait

Asher’s eyes went to the mints, then back to Harry, and he smiled, even laughed a little, but his eyes became glassy as he took them. “Thank you,” he said, his chin wobbling a little.

Immediately alarmed, Harry shoved the bag aside and took Asher’s hand. “Hey, baby, what’s wrong?”

Asher shook his head and rolled his eyes. “I don’t know. Everything. It’s being back here, I think. It’s not knowing where Yunho is, if he’s still alive. Those stupid files he left me raise more questions than they answer. I don’t like being back here. This place. And then you give me these,” he said, looking at the mints. “I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you.”

“You didn’t shoot me that day in Madrid, remember?And after that, you annoyed me until I fell in love with you, remember?”

Asher nodded, smiling now. “Yeah. I remember. Though I’m pretty sure I fell in love with you first.”

Harry laughed. “Maybe it was a tie.”

“Maybe it was.”

Harry started the Jeep. “Okay, back onto the highway to Belgrade, yeah?”

Asher sucked back a breath and let it out slowly. “No. Stay on this road. It will take us south of the city.” His brows furrowed. “There’s something I want to see first.”

Okay then.

Asher gave directions, which Harry followed without question. Asher was clearly familiar with this place. He knew which turns to take as if he knew these streets by rote.

Through a small township where Harry had no hope of reading the signs, past an old fuel station, now abandoned. “Turn here,” Asher said.

Harry slowed to a stop. “That... that doesn’t look like a road. Is it a bicycle trail?”

Asher gave him a cutting look, so Harry turned down the narrow path. About fifty metres in, they passed a man jogging with a dog on a leash. He didn’t seem to care that Harry was driving on the path, so Harry kept going. It was overgrown, brambly trees scraped the sides of the Jeep in some parts, and Harry was about to question Asher again until he saw his grip on the tin of mints. His face didn’t give much away, but his knuckles were white.

Harry knew then, whatever was up here wasn’t good.

“There’s a turn to the left up here,” Asher murmured.

“Okay,” Harry replied. The turn was an overgrown dirt driveway that clearly hadn’t been driven on in a long time.There was an old wire fence, which had been, at some point, locked but was now broken and wide open. Harry drove in slowly, the two-wheel track barely visible in the long grass and shrubs.

Asher swallowed hard, his grip on the tin of mints still tight.

Around the bend and down the track some more was another fence, the gate locked. This one chain-link, six foot tall. There was a hole cut through the wire off the trail but the Jeep wasn’t going any further.

There was an abandoned building about two hundred metres away. No windows, damaged roof, spray-painted graffiti on the concrete walls. It was a decent size, but grass and weeds were overtaking it now. There was another building behind it that Harry could see had sheets of iron bent or missing.

Asher got out of the Jeep and walked to the fence. Harry followed him quietly, watching as he gripped the chain-link fence and bowed his head.

Harry gently lay a hand on his shoulder. “Asher.”

Asher nodded, but then he sobbed and shook the fence. “Fuck them. Fuck this place.”

Harry pulled him into his arms and Asher went willingly, letting Harry hold him as he cried.

Harry had never seen Asher cry.

Not like this.

He held him tight and rubbed his back. He wasn’t sure what was wrong, though he could guess. He remembered something Asher had said long ago.

“When I was about six, I was loaded into a truck with other boys and taken to a military training school outside of Belgrade in Serbia.”

Jesus fucking Christ.

“Is this the training school you were sent to?”

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