Page 16 of Psycho Boys

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” I grip the steering wheel tighter, feeling the distance from our past hit me like a freight train. The promise of hope shimmers out there beyond the darkness, delicate and fragile.

As we step out of the car, the cold air wraps around us, sharp and biting, but we don’t flinch. Maybe it’s the drugs. Maybe it’s the desperate thirst for answers. Either way, we approach the grand gate surrounding the house, shoulders squared, hearts racing, the rhythmic tap of Dom's crutches echoing in my ears.

What if we find her? What if we don’t? What if she’s hurt?

The sense of foreboding looms, though a flicker of hope remains—much like a half-extinguished flame yearning for a breath of wind. Dom’s hand finds my shoulder for a fleeting moment—a silent acknowledgment of our fears as we scurry along the perimeter of the mansion, seeking a glimpse inside without being caught.

When we finally find a sightline into the family room, light spills from the interior, illuminating the figures gathered within. We crouch down, pressing our ears to a crack in the window, desperate to catch whispers that might guide us in the right direction to wherever Cali might be.

Elaine and Thomas's frantic arguments pierce the night. It’s evident they have no idea where their daughter is. It brings bittersweet relief, but it’s far from what we long to hear. If they don't know where she is, if they had nothing to do with her kidnapping, then who the fuck knows?

Drawing back to steal a glance, we find only them wrapped in mounting panic. Their worried faces reflect the luxury that surrounds them, a stark contrast to the turmoil looming over us. Gunnar's name surfaces repeatedly, and Dom’s expression screams, “I told you so.”

“Well, this is a complete fucking waste,” I whisper, keeping my eyes glued to the two of them drowning their failures inexpensive liquor, reminding us just how privileged they truly are.

“I told you,” he insists. “We need to go to Gunnar’s house. He has to know something.” He rolls his eyes, then gestures for silence as Elaine begins to speak again.

“Where the hell is Gunnar? He promised to update me, but I haven’t heard anything.”

Thomas shrugs, frustration evident in the defeated glare he casts at his wife as he downs a shot of top-shelf whiskey. “I don’t know, Elaine. Can you just call him? You’ve been fucking him for months. If anyone can get him to talk, it’s you,” he sneers, a venomous glare aimed squarely at her.

Elaine matches his contempt, stepping close enough to press her nose against his, anger radiating from her. “I wouldn’t have to sleep with a younger man if my husband could satisfy me in bed,” she bites back, her words sharp enough to send chills down my spine.

Thomas storms out of the living room, flipping her off as he goes, maintaining his gesture until he’s entirely out of view. Just as Dom and I decide to leave, we hear her voice again, this time trapped in a frantic conversation into the phone pressed against her ear.

“Why haven’t you called me?” She snaps, most likely addressing Gunnar.

Dom and I exchange silent glances, ducking back down, straining to listen as she paces anxiously.

“You have her, right?” she implores, a wrong kind of hope coloring her tone—not the kind Dom and I cling to.

My stomach plummets, nausea rising as I fight to keep it at bay. I glance at Dom, noting the color draining from his already pale face; his jaw set tight, clenching as he struggles to hold it together.

“Keep her there until I can come over... I don’t care what you do to her; just make sure she knows this little stunt isn’t going to go unnoticed.” Elaine hangs up, taking a swig straight from the bottle in her grasp, her gaze randomly drifting toward the window where we crouch.

Quickly, we duck low, hoping we didn’t blow our cover. Minutes tick by until the lights dim and the room falls into darkness. Then we make a run for it, doing our best to move quickly—Dom is still managing his crutches.

Once we’re back inside the car, we finally release the deep breath we hadn’t realized we were holding, taking a moment to regain our bearings before starting the engine and slipping away into the night, swallowed by silence.

The car's engine growls to life, breaking the stillness that settles around us. Anxiety surges through me as I shift into gear, my eyes scanning the street for lurking, prying eyes. Dom's crutches clang restlessly against the floor as he adjusts himself, a reminder of the beautiful chaos that now feels impossibly distant.

"What the hell was that?" He breaks the silence, his voice rising with disbelief. "Did she really just say that?"

I grit my teeth, the weight of Elaine’s words pressing heavily against my chest. “Yeah, and we don’t have much time. We need to figure out where to go next."

"She said, 'keep her there,'" Dom murmurs, his brows furrowing as the implications crash into us. "She knows where Cali is. We have to find Gunnar before she gets to him."

“Right,” I reply, the determination crackling between us like static electricity. “But we have to be smart about this. We can’t just storm in there looking for answers.”

As we speed back into the heart of Boston, the city lights blur past us—an unending streak of yellow and white against the dark canvas of the night. The world feels alarmingly normal, peopleswaying on sidewalks and laughter spilling from bars, entirely unaware of the turmoil that has seized our lives.

“Do you think Cali is with him?” Dom’s voice trembles, a mix of hope and horror tainting his words.

I hesitate, the dread pooling in my stomach. “I don’t know. But if Elaine is working with him, we need to get there before something happens. God, I can’t believe this shit.”

My mind spins through possibilities—each darker than the last—what they could be planning, how she must be feeling, what room we might burst into next. The uncertainty gnaws at my sanity, but what choice do we have? The clock is ticking, and every second that passes feels like another shackle tightening around Cali.

We arrive at Gunnar's apartment building, the scene before us recalling memories of late-night escapades and reckless abandon that feels like lifetimes ago. I park the car, casting nervous glances at the entrance, expecting trouble to leap out from the shadows.

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