Page 34 of Lock Me Out

He walks on silent feet, like a ghost, and I notice how slowly he approaches Leni, rounding her end of the sofa like he’s afraid of getting too close. Sure, now that I’m around, watching him, he wants to be all protective and gentle. Where was that when he decided to tie her up and use her? “We’ll take care of the bodies. Don’t worry,” he insists. “We’ll go back in the morning, first thing.”

She’s not convinced, wrapping her arms around herself once she’s drained her mug. “It is really weird, having you here like this,” she admits. I’m glad she said it, so I didn’t have to.

“Yeah, you’re usually busting in and doing whatever you want when you show up around here, right?” I ask, and I’m glad when he flinches. He deserves a hell of a lot worse than that.

“It’s weird being here,” he admits. “I didn’t expect this, whatever happened. If I wasn’t watching you earlier…”

Leni shivers, and he winces at the sight. “But some things matter more than staying away. I couldn’t sacrifice you to keep myself safe.”

“Okay, okay.” I’ve had enough of this. “Let’s not throw a parade for you or anything, you know? What the hell is with you letting me think you were dead all this time?”

“You didn’t believe I was.”

“That doesn’t matter—you get my point. Why did you stay away all this time? And how…”

He waits with a smirk twisting his lips until I finally have to look away. “Come on, brother,” he invites. “What were you going to say?”

Asshole. “How did your face end up the way it is?”

He runs a hand over the scar tissue, covering almost half of a face that used to be as familiar to me as my own. With a soft sigh, he lets himself drop into an armchair across from us. “I’m not proud of what I did, but in the moment, it felt like the right thing to do. Really, it was Bradley’s idea—and I know he can’t defend himself now, but it’s the truth. If it was all me, I would tell you. And it’s not like I didn’t go along with him,” he adds with a bitter laugh.

“What are you talking about?” Leni whispers, though I think I know. It’s the only thing that makes sense, the only reason he would have for letting me think he was dead.

And he knows that, too. His eyes meet mine before he confesses, speaking slowly, like every word takes effort. “We set the fire in the house. Bradley and me.”

Leni flinches, and I take her hand while he keeps going. “I never gave him any specifics of the shit he made us do, but he knew I hated Dad. And that day, I’d had enough. I was ready to explode. There was all this shit inside me, all this rage, and I wanted to make him hurt. I thought burning down the house that meant so much to him, burning up all his things, he might finally feel a little pain. And… I don’t know.” He can’t look at Leni anymore, can’t watch her crumble in pain. He looks away before muttering, “It got out of hand. I don’t know what the hell we were thinking, but it all got out of hand.”

“Did you know they were home?” she whispers. The pain in her voice—I wish somebody would hit me and get it over with, because I could stand that. I can’t stand the sound of her pain.

“I didn’t know your mom was there. I swear. I wouldn’t have done it if I knew she was there. She wasn’t home when I got there with Bradley, and we went down to the basement for a little while hanging out—that must’ve been when she got home. It was so stupid. We were drinking; I wasn’t thinking straight. I am so sorry, really. She didn’t deserve that.”

Leni releases a shuddering breath and looks at the floor, breathing slowly like she’s fighting to control herself.

And he knows it, and I see the pain it brings him, but maybe he deserves it.

“Finally, it was all too much, and we started to run for the back door. I thought we would have more time. I really did, but it spread fast. Bradley pushed me in front of him—he was screaming at me to get out. And I did. I made it out maybe a handful of seconds before the explosion. But he was still inside.”

“It’s Bradley in your grave?” Leni whispers. “I was visiting Bradley all these months?”

His head bobs slowly. “Yeah. I was a John Doe at the hospital. Somebody picked me up after I stumbled through the woods and finally found the road. I was so out of it, and all bandaged up after they treated me at the hospital, and I didn’t have my ID on me. I heard reports on the news from my bed, and I knew I couldn’t tell anybody who I really was.”

“And what you really did,” Leni whispers with an edge to her voice, like she’s spitting the words out. “Because they would know from the burns that you were there when it happened.But you could’ve pretended it was an accident. You could’ve told them you were dazed and didn’t know what you were doing. Right?” She looks at me for backup, her eyes wild and wide.

“Yeah, that’s true,” I agree. “There were so many things you could’ve done that wouldn’t involve, you know, basically gaslighting me for seven months into thinking my brother was dead when he’s really alive. And do you know what that did to her, too?” I demand, jerking a thumb toward Leni because it’s not easy for me to admit what it did to me. It’s easier to bring her into it and make it more about her. Less embarrassing, too. “And Mom! I guess you saw the message about her being here, being awake now, right? You know about all of that.”

“I do, and I went to see her one night when she was asleep. Thank you for keeping me updated.”

He’s being sincere, and I get where he’s coming from, but something about it makes me burst out laughing. “Listen to you. Acting like I was, like, watering your plants for you while you were on vacation or some shit. You could have told me. You should have told me.”

“I didn’t know what the hell you were going to think or how you would react,” he argues. “For all I knew, you’d be pissed over what I did.”

“Fuck off,” I growl. “That is such bullshit. After everything we’ve been through? You think I would betray you over something like this? You think I wouldn’t help you? I would’ve done everything in my power to keep you?—”

“I didn’t want you to do that!” he snaps before I can finish. “Maybe I didn’t want you to have to, like, harbor a fugitive or whatever you want to call it. Maybe I don’t even want to be herenow,” he adds with a growl. “I’m putting you both in danger by being here. I shouldn’t have come.”

“It’s too late for that now,” Leni tells him, but there’s no anger in her voice. Nobody in the world would blame her for being furious, for never forgiving him. I wouldn’t even blame her if she refused to be in the same room or the same apartment. Even if he did save her tonight.

“It’s not too late to get out of here before the two of you have to pay for what I did. I’m not going to stay.”

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