Page 105 of The Guy Next Door

ZANE

Leif settles atmy kitchen table in the chair adjacent to mine. He’s shirtless, his beanie on as he pours syrup over his waffles.

“I love you too.”

I replay that moment over and over again in my mind, as Leif gazed into my eyes, not hesitating or holding back. I didn’t need him to feel the same for me as I do for him, but it sure feels fucking good.

I cut another section out of my waffles, already doused in butter and syrup, and fork them into my mouth. Damn, that feels fucking good too.

“How are you feeling this morning?” he asks, setting the dispenser between us.

There’s worry in his expression. Understandably so.

Amazing as last night was—being able to forget about all the bullshit for a few sweet moments—eventually we had to come back to reality.

To a world without my brother.

A world where, for all I know, he’s being tortured and about to endure the same fate as Jason Kilbourne…if he hasn’t already.

A world where I might be slipping again.

“Before you woke up this morning, I pulled up my files on Isaac Tolle,” I confess. “And on Jason and Mike. It’s like I’m waiting for something to click…some instinct to connect dots a part of me is trying to put together, that my conscious mind hasn’t sorted through yet. But…” I hesitate, but I remind myselfof what he told me last night:“If that’s what’s happening, then we’ll figure it out, Zane. You and me. Together.”

I haven’t let people in; I tell myself it’s for a good reason, but for the first time in so long, I’m not on my own. Even if it’s true and I didn’t really see Isaac last night. Even if I need help, I don’t have to be so scared. That doesn’t make the anxiety or fear vanish, but it takes some of the weight off. Rather than being lost in panic, as I was last night, I can think this through.

“It’s the kind of thing I would have done when I was having a manic episode.” I won’t lie to him; I trust him to help me know what’s real and what’s not.

“Okay,” he says with a nod. “That makes sense. It’s understandable, given what you thought you saw last night.”

“Thoughtbeing the operative word.”

That memory of seeing Isaac at the entrance has played so much in my head that I even see details I couldn’t have noticed before. The dark hoodie was one I’d seen him in before. A familiar lock of his dark hair.

My phone buzzes, and it’s a text from Wes.

Then another.

And another.

“The hell?” I reach over and open the messages. They’re images of Jason Kilbourne. In cute poses in a tee and jeans, sitting on his bed.

“What is it?” Leif asks.

“Some of the screenshots Wes took of Jason’s Grindr profile.”

Wes sends a follow-up message:

It didn’t hit me until I was looking at these after our chat, but Leif had mentioned something about a library where Mike and that teacher would go. I noticed these books in Jason’s photos. Don’t know if that’s where they’re from, but figured you’d want to see.

I look at the images, noticing the books on his nightstand, which look like they have library tags on the corners.

Nice catch, Wes.

I show Leif the messages, which he assesses. “Aren’t those from Chelsby Hill?”

I shrug. “Any library, I guess. I would assume the one on campus, though.”

“Could be from a public library in some other part of town, but Chelsby has yellow tags on fiction books. WCC’s tags are different.”

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