Page 22 of Escape into the Night

“Thanks, Mom.” Theo all but fell into the smaller woman's arms. It wasn't often he called Connor’s ma “mom” but when he did, she soared.

They were on the road mere moments later, the cabin of the SUV quiet as Connor navigated the streets toward a neighborhood he knew by heart now. Despite his familiarity with Anacostia, Theo occasionally murmured soft directions that led them here and there to places Connor hadn't ever really paidmuch attention to. It was moments like these that reminded him how much he still had left to learn about Theo. His fiancé had spent years in the rundown streets of this area. He rarely spoke of it, but this glimpse of his knowledge revealed more than any shared story could.

A sketchy Chinese restaurant that likely didn't have proper licensing, a vacant lot behind a church advertising free meals daily, a rusted playground that was more of a hazard than a play space, and a small parking lot filled with broken cars and heaps of cardboard that were likely houses for the unhoused all proved to be a bust. With a firm set to his jaw, Theo pointed to a street that tugged at Connor’s memories until he spotted the wreckage that brought it all rushing back. The apartment building Taz had once called home was still standing, mostly. The upper floors were reduced to charred and blackened beams clawing at the robin’s egg blue sky. The setting sun washed everything in gold, but the building seemed to suck the warmth from the air, from the street itself. Signage declared the building condemned, but that didn't deter squatters or addicts from entering. Connor tensed, a “no” already half formed on his lips as he pulled the car to the curb across the street from the structure. Theo surprised him by hopping from the passenger seat before heading to the apartment building across the street.

“Teddy, hold up!” Connor was quick to give chase, the chirp of the locks engaging on the SUV sounding too loud in the haunted quiet of the street.

“It’s fine, Con. Did Luke text back?” Theo deviated from his path, his soft-soled Converse barely scuffing over the cracked sidewalks as he moved toward an alley between two buildings.

Connor checked the screen to read over the text exchange between Luke and Theo. “Yeah. He's headed this way with Brody.”

“Gimme a credit card.” Theo held out a hand with a faint flutter of his fingertips.

Connor boggled for a moment, glancing at the mouth of the darkened alley behind Theo with confusion. “The hell you need a credit card for?”

Before Theo could answer, the pounding of running shoes and the jingle of a dog collar interrupted the ominous blanket of quiet before Luke appeared on the sidewalk beside them. “Any luck?”

“Maybe. I have one last place to check. Connie, card. Please?” Another flutter of fingertips had Connor pulling his wallet out with a sigh. He rifled through the options before tugging a Capital One card from its slot. It was snatched from his fingertips before he’d even fully extended his arm.

Connor and Luke followed behind as Theo strode deeper into the alley, stepping over rubbish and overturned bins as if it were the most natural thing. The darkened, water-stained wood of a narrow door would have been easy to miss in the dim lighting, but he stopped short and pressed an ear to the surface before lifting his closed fist. Two sharp, quick knocks, a pause, and one last knock precipitated an all too familiar muffled response from the other side.

“Fuck off!”

Luke was in action before the last syllable was finished, but Theo whirled on him with a palm raised and an expression that would be better suited on the face of a beat cop.

“No. Let me go in and talk to him.” His words were barely a hiss above audible.

“But I—”

“No, Luke. With all due respect, I dated him four times longer than you have, have known him even longer than that,andI've been in trauma counseling for the last year of my life. I’m better equipped to handle this situationandhim.”

Connor and Luke were both stunned into silent concession. Theo blew Connor’s mind even further out of the water as he calmly turned back toward the door, finagled the card between the frame and the latch, and popped it open in a matter of seconds, as if he were some professional thief and came from a background of breaking and entering. Before he could even fully register the surprising series of events, Theo was gone and the door was firmly shut behind him. The turn of the lock engaging finally broke him out of his stupor.

“Well, shit.”

“What the fuck…”

He and Luke turned toward one another in unison before slowly shrugging. It was the only response that held any weight as they resigned themselves to being the onlookers and not the saviors for once.

Chapter Twelve

Taz

Taz’safeplacewasn'treally comfortable or even all that safe, but it carried the cold familiarity his racing mind desperately needed to combat the spiraling chaos that consumed him. He'd come here often as a teenager. Nights when it was too dangerous to go home, when he just wanted to feel protected, or simply wanted to be closer to the one place he'd felt most himself. Theo hadn't lived in this building for years, but the memories were alive and well. Memories of so many cold, quiet nights spent trying to drown out the deafening white noise that hijacked his brain.

The air was thick, lingering too long in the lungs and invading his sinuses with the pervasive aroma of damp concrete, acrid detergent, and cloying mildew. A tangle of pipes snaked over the low-hanging ceiling, occasionally groaning like a grouchy old man protesting the aging process. A staccato drip-drip-dripping sound clawed Taz’ thoughts into a rhythm that echoed the soundtrack of his past.You're such a waste of space, Timmy. I should have left you on the side of the road, Timmy. You ruin everything, Timmy.

“Shut. Up!” Taz lurched forward to clutch his hair in both fists, his eyes screwed shut to block out the flickering, seizure-inducing strobe effect of the solitary bulb swaying in a draft that brought nothing fresh to the miasma of decay. His ass ached, and not in a good way, as the cold concrete beneath him permeated his bones and exacerbated the tremors that wracked his body.

Nobody wants you. Your mother didn't want you. I sure as shit didn't want you. Do us all a favor and fuck off.Taz hiccupped on a quiet sob before struggling with the zippers of his fancy new backpack. He didn't deserve that, either. It was too clean, too new, too pristine. He’d ruin that, too. He ruined everything he touched. The white noise in his skull ramped up to a roar, similar to the hollow, haunting roar of a tornado.

By the time he got the front pocket of the bag open, all rational thought had been sucked into the tornado and his body moved on autopilot. He needed the noise to stop. He needed a moment of peace. He needed a touch stone, an anchor, a focus point to tether him to reality again before he could claw his way out of the rubble and try to rebuild some semblance of sanity. Again. Two steps forward, ten thousand steps backward. Story of his entire fucking life.

The quiet snick of the pocket knife opening made him flinch and nearly drop the blade. Tears flowed without restraint as he jerked the sleeve of his sweatshirt over his elbow to reveal the wreckage written on his skin—scars left by his monster of a father and decorated by his own hand in a desperate attempt to rewrite the misery. Each cigarette burn bore tiny hatch marks, morbid stars carved over painful memories. It was a sick and twisted game of tic-tac-toe that he refused to lose. He was utterly numb to the first bite of the blade that pierced the skin. The second brought a brief flash of clarity before the storm swept back into his thoughts. The third and fourth nicks did the trick.The handle of the pocket knife, Luke’s pocket knife, dug into his palm as he white-knuckled it, finally drawing his first full breath since leaving Elias’ house.

Time became a strange construct as the endorphins from his self-inflicted wounds swept through his system. The chaos was still there, lurking in the corners of his mind until it could pounce again, but for a brief, blissful moment, there was peace. No past, present, future. Just a suspended moment in time that was all of that and none simultaneously. A familiar knock in the now taunted at memories of then and he barely even recognized his own voice as it broke from his lips.

“Fuck off!”

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