“Except, Kendrick will come in, but he won’t leave. Even without cameras, that’s suspicious.”
“Not if he uses the tunnels,” Mac said. “They’ll never even know he’s here.”
“Why would he be so accommodating?” Park asked.
“Because Aspen asks him to,” Mac said with a smile. He reached into his back pocket. “I still have his phone. His burner phone. The one he texted Gift with. He was smart enough not to use names, but there’s only one number he’s been talking with consistently. If it’s not Kendrick, we’ll know when he shows up for the meeting.”
“It’s Kendrick,” Archer muttered. “That man’s been a piece of shit his whole life.”
“Let’s give him to the kids,” Boone said.
“What?” the other three said in unison.
“What? They need to show they have what it takes to torture and kill someone. They were right. A bloated mob guy is boring. Let’s let them play with Kendrick. God knows, he isn’t worthy of putting up much of a fight.”
“Are you serious?” Park asked. “You just said he might be Gift’s father.”
“Even more reason to let him help,” Mac said, getting on board with the idea.
“On that note,” Archer said, “maybe we could make this a family reunion of sorts?”
“Meaning…”
“I know someone who might want a ticket to the show.”
“Aiden…” Mac said, nodding. “I bet he’d even be willing to bring the kids some toys to play with.”
“Are you… You want us to just turn a group of psychopaths loose on Kendrick and let them…what? Torture and kill him?”
“Yeah, why not?”
“Christ.” Park scrubbed his hands over his face. “Okay. Okay, sure. Why not? But only if Gift says it’s okay.”
Boone shrugged. “That’s fair.”
“And you have to wait until we get back,” Park added.
“Back from where?”
“I can’t tell you that.”
“Now you don’t trust us?” Boone accused, exasperation obvious.
“No, Anchali just hasn’t dropped a pin with her location yet,” Park said, waving his phone.
“Oh,” Boone said, nullified by Park’s answer. “Okay, well, you go bring Anchali home and leave Kendrick’s invite to us.”
Park nodded, already distracted, wondering how he would explain this to Gift.
Gift felt Park return before he saw him, sensing him watching Gift with his friends. There was something different between the two of them now. Gift couldn’t quite put his finger on when the change had happened or even what it was, but something had shifted last night. Somehow, Gift no longer felt immature or unsophisticated next to Park. He no longer felt like this naive, silly boy idolizing a superhero. It wasn’t killing Aspen. It wasn’t sobbing hysterically into Park’s arms until he fell asleep.
But it was something. It was in the way Park looked at him, deferred to him. Park seemed to have decided Gift could take care of himself, even if he sometimes wanted to do it for him. And that was all Gift had ever wanted. He liked being helpless, he liked being Park’s needy baby. But on his terms. In their bedroom. Behind closed doors with strict rules in play and the security of a safe word.
When it came to the outside world, Gift wanted full autonomy. He wanted to make his own decisions, his own mistakes. Letting Park control him in the bedroom fed some desperate need for care his parents had denied him by shipping him off to boarding school, but Gift had been on his own most of his life. He’d made his own decisions most of his life. His parents just hadn’t noticed. Neither had Park.
Now, his mother might never know that he was okay, that he was an adult who could stand on his own two feet. She might never see him taking care of himself and others. The thought clawed at his already raw and bleeding heart. So, he shook it away.
When Park made no move to come to him, Gift extricated himself from Payton’s arms, crossing the room to meet him. He knew it was bad before Park even opened his mouth. The pain in Park’s expression was for Gift, like he knew whatever he was about to say might break him.
