Page 87 of The Ghost of Ellwood
A lump wedged in my throat. I re-read the last line, and each time the crack in my chest widened.
Harvey knew Theo didn’t leave him on purpose. Florence, the lady from the library, had said a close friend of Theo’s stated George Blackwell was the last person to see his son, and he’d also spoken of abuse in the household.
Harvey knew Theo died. But he couldn’t prove it.
“I can’t imagine what he went through,” I said, carefully placing the poem beside me on the couch. “His best friend goes missing just weeks before he has to leave for war. He returns over a year later to find Theostillmissing. And the whole time, Theo was in the house. Trapped.”
“He died without ever knowing the truth about Theo,” Carter added, his expression grim. “Heneverknew what actually happened. I think that would kill me more than anything; the not knowing. He couldn’t even properly grieve. There was never a body.”
A body.
I got lightheaded all of a sudden and leaned against the couch, closing my eyes.
If Georgedidkill Theo…what did he do with Theo’s body? I hadn’t considered that his body could still be on the property; buried in secret for all these years without anyone to mourn him. The reality of Theo’s dark fate crashed into me more than it ever had. The man I made love to, the one whose smile lit up my world, had been dealt a shitty hand in life.
“Is it okay if I take these home?” I asked, once composing myself. “I think Theo should see it.”
“Fine with me. I don’t have a use for them.”
I tucked the letters back inside the box and placed the lid on top. I hadn’t read them all, but it wasn’t my place to. They were Harvey’s feelings, his thoughts, and Theo should be the one to see them.
“Want a beer?” Carter asked. “I need another.”
“Sure.”
He hopped up and went into the kitchen. The fridge door opened and shut before Carter appeared again and tossed me a can.
“Thanks.” I popped it open and took a swig. Beer was an acquired taste, and I’d definitely acquired it during my rebellious teen years. “You know, I drank more alcohol before I turned twenty-one than I did after.”
“Nice. Didn’t take you for the bad boy type, Ben.”
“Nah, not a bad boy at all,” I said with a light snort. “I was a total nerd. But I had a few buddies I’d go around town with and drink way too much. It’s a miracle I never got alcohol poisoning.” I smiled at the memory. “I spent my childhood in a small town, dreaming of bigger things. I wanted to go to New York, to make a name for myself. And I did.”
“Look at you now.” Carter got off the floor and sat beside me on the couch. “Back in a small town.”
I certainly saw the irony.
“You never told me how the Halloween party went,” I said, before taking a bigger drink. “Did you see your vampire guy again?”
“Vampire guy?” Carter laughed. “I guess he kind of looks the part.”
“You didn’t answer the question.”
Carter’s cheeks flamed red, and he fiddled with his lip ring. It wasn’t like him to withhold information; usually I couldn’t shut him up.
“Okay, I might’ve seen him,” he answered in a rush. “And we might’ve had amazing sex at the party before coming back to my place and fucking all over my house.”
As his words sunk in, I dropped my gaze to the couch. “Did you do ithere?”
“Um. I’m not saying wedidn’tdo it there. Like right in the spot you’re sitting.”
I’d never gotten to my feet so fast.
“Ah, come on, Ben. Don’t be a prude. It’s not like we got jizz all over the cushions or anything.”
“Did he at least tell you his name this time?” I asked, as I went into the kitchen to wash my hands.
Carter followed me and sat at the table, beer in hand. “He told me to call him Z.”
