Page 82 of Moonstruck
“I have the video, Zane,” Calliope said gently. “But you don’t want to watch it.”
“Show me,” Zane said, seething.
“Zane—” Calliope started.
“Show me!” he shouted.
The other videos disappeared and Gage appeared on the screen. Zane sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of his brother. His hand, which had rested on Asa’s, now curled around Asa’s wrist, his blunt nails digging into his skin.
“Day one,” Calliope said.
It was clear the footage was coming from Gage’s webcam, though whether he knew it or not was unclear. He looked much like he did in the picture in Zane’s apartment. Good-looking, clear-eyed, dressed in a sweatshirt and a backwards ball cap. Behind him, somebody—possibly his roommate—moved around behind him completely unaware that Zane’s brother was embarking on a game that would take his life.
“Day ten,” Calliope said.
Zane made a sound like a wounded animal at the sight of his brother on the screen. He looked strung out, unkempt. His eyes were red, swollen, bloodshot. There was no sound, but he was speaking animatedly, either to somebody on the other side of his computer or possibly recording himself. He looked terrible, like someone days from succumbing to a serious illness. Asa supposed he was, whether he knew it or not.
“That can’t be ten days,” Noah said. “He looks ten years older.”
“That’s what psychological torture can do to you,” August said. “There’s an entire industry dedicated to learning the best way to systematically break down the human psyche. Even the strongest people have little hope of making it through unscathed.”
“Eric did,” Zane said, voice raw.
“Eric figured it out early. He said it himself. If he hadn’t taken that advertising class that talked about subliminal messaging, he never would have put it together,” Asa reminded him.
“Is that why he tried to kill Eric? He disqualified the others. Clearly, he wanted the number down to five. Why not disqualify Eric?” Zane asked.
“My guess is he worried Eric would spill about the game, the tactics,” Asa said.
That did little to nullify Zane. He was unnaturally pale, his body trembling. “Show me the final clip.”
“No,” Calliope said, tone equally strong.
“You have to,” Zane said, voice suddenly thick with tears. “I need to see it, need to seehim. I need to see it with my own two eyes.”
“Please, Zane…” Calliope said. “Don’t watch this.”
Zane swallowed the lump in his throat. “Show me.”
Asa put an arm around him. “Maybe you shouldn’t. You can’t unsee this.”
“I’ve seen plenty of dead bodies and even murders,” Zane managed, his whole body stiff beneath Asa’s touch.
“But those people weren’t your family,” Asa said, looking to the others for help.
“Asa’s right,” Adam said. “Noah still has nightmares about what he saw in his videos.”
Asa hadn’t expected Adam to be the one to come to the rescue. Of all the brothers, Adam was the one who appeared to feel the least. His only real solid emotion was envy—or maybe jealousy. Whatever it was that compelled him to protect Noah at all costs while disregarding the feelings of all others.
“Lucas, tell him,” Calliope said.
“Witnessing a suicide, especially that of a loved one—” Lucas started.
“Makes me more likely to take my own life,” Zane finished. “I know the studies. I’ve read them all. When somebody in your family decides to kill themselves, you become an expert.”
Asa leaned into his space. “I can’t lose you.”
Zane looked at him, startled. “You won’t. I’m not going to unalive myself just because I see my brother—” His voice caught in a sob, but he quickly stuffed it down. “Just show me.”
