Page 91 of Capitol Matters

He stepped away, and I peeked around him into the bedroom to find no sign of Nash.

My follow-up question was slightly more coherent. “Who let you in here?”

Donovan tipped a thumb toward the hall. “Door was open.”

I sniffed, ready to dodge him in my quest for a bathroom that didn’t give me PTSD flashbacks but, when I took a moment to look him over, his drawn features and the cell phone clutched in his hand made me reconsider.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s Friday,” he replied. “Vote’s today.”

“Yeah, and?”

“I have to take ballots to the people in storage.”

A laugh rumbled out of me. I shook my head. “No, you don’t.”

He’d been checking in on our captives, or so he claimed. Since I’d sworn off the whole endeavor, I tried not to ask. But the vote was the last step. The final moment of torture before we could wipe clean the memories of those unfortunate souls and send them… where?

Not back home, to explain their lengthy absence to friends and family members who’d presumed them dead. Not anywhere Maximus would find out, since he had fallen into the same trap I had. He assumed I completed the assignment I was given in the way I was told to do it, and I hadn’t corrected him.

Even the investigators, who must have been instructed to turn a blind eye to the multiple disappearances, could only ignore so much. We couldn’t release these people, and Grimm must have known that. Judging by the way Donovan stood before me, shifting on the balls of his feet while avoiding eye contact, he knew it, too.

“Wait, you’re going there now?” I asked.

He nodded.

“Great.” I stepped around him. “I’ll come with you.”

“What?” he yelped. “Why?”

Moving across the bedroom to the chest of drawers, I dug through Nash’s clothes in search of something that would fit.

“That’s why you told me, right?” I glanced atDonovan. “You want backup? Moral support?”

“I haven’t needed those things so far,” he replied, then added in a mumble, “and if I did, I wouldn’t expect them from you.”

I whistled low. “Nice dig, Donnie. I taught you well.”

He rubbed a hand across the nape of his neck.

The second drawer yielded results in the form of a pair of gray sweatpants and a tee shirt I’d never seen Nash wear. Letting the towel drop to my ankles prompted a groan from my brother.

“Come on, Fitch. Gimme a heads-up, at least.”

I stepped into the sweats and tugged them up, cinching the drawstring and knotting it.

“How about some muscle, then?” I asked as the shirt fell loose around my neck. “In case those miserable motherfuckers try to rough you up? You deserve it.” My meaningful look failed to elicit a response as Donovan stood aside with his arms crossed.

“The only reason I said anything was so you wouldn’t worry when I was gone. That’s all.”

“Yeah well, I was just telling Nash I need a break from this place, so you’re stuck with me.” My boots were against the wall by the door, and I stuffed my bare feet into them.

Halfway through the doorframe, I swung back in to ask him, “Can we go by the dock while we’re out? The one with all the houseboats?”

“I guess. Why?”

I shrugged. “No reason.”

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