Brent set his slice down, exhaling sharply through his nose. “Let’s get something straight. I admire museum exhibits. I watch you the way people watch a car pileup on the freeway, with morbid curiosity but zero enjoyment.”
“If that’s the story you need to tell yourself to sleep at night, I support your delulu era. We all have coping mechanisms.”
“Speaking of delulu,” I cut in. “Did you guys hear about the woman in Florida who claims she’s married to a ghost pirate?”
All heads turned toward me. “I’m sorry, what?” Dean asked.
“Yeah,” I said, “She says she’s in a long-distance relationship with the spirit of an eighteenth-century pirate. They ‘met’ on a séance Zoom call during lockdown, fell in love, and held a symbolic ceremony on a charter boat, vows, rings, and a medium officiating. But the kicker? She tried to enroll him under her employment benefits. Submitted the paperwork to HR and everything. They had to issue a formal denial because, shockingly, ghost spouses don’t qualify as legal dependents.”
“This is a legit story? Not like some fake news nonsense?” Sarah said.
“Two verified outlets ran it,” I confirmed. “Apparently she went viral complaining about workplace discrimination against ‘spiritual unions’ and that she planned to sue.”
“That’s wild,” Dean said.
Brent snorted. “Honestly, sounds on-brand for Florida. Go figure someone down there tried to file benefits for Captain Casper. That’s probably not even cracking their Top Ten Weird News of the Month list.”
“You’ve got to admire the commitment, though,” Shawn said. “Imagine sitting across from HR, full eye contact, and declaring, ‘Yes, Cheryl, my spectral sea-daddy needs comprehensive medical coverage. He deserves a robust afterlife plan just like the rest of us.”
We were all still chuckling as Paul stepped inside, balancing a plate stacked with two slices of pizza. “Since you’re all conveniently assembled. I’ve got a quick update from the outreach committee. They finally landed the pro bono legal partnership we’ve been pushing for over the last three months. The attorney is already on-site tonight, sitting in on one of the support groups.”
“That’s great,” Sarah said. “Who’d they get?”
Paul tapped his tablet, scrolling. “Firm’s Garner & Croft. Lawyer is Vincent Langley.”
“Hold up, Vincent Langley?” I said.
Paul glanced at me, brow creasing. “Yeah, you know him?”
“What community center? What group?” I asked, bulldozing over Paul’s question, clutching the table as though my grip could stop the answer from being what I feared.
“The domestic violence survivor support group at Brickstone Community Center,” Paul answered, his brow furrowing deeper, thrown by my reaction.
My chair screeched across the floor, slamming into the wall behind me as I stood. Checking the clock, I saw the scheduled hour for the meeting had already passed. “I have to get there now!”
“Whoa, Luke, what’s going on?” Dean asked.
“My boyfriend attends that group, and Vincent is his former abuser. Oliver is in that room right now, where he’s supposed to be safe, and fuck...” My hand fisted in my hair, breath stuttering in and out. All I could see was another person I loved in a room with a monster while I wasn’t there to stop it. Not again. Never again.
“Alright, let’s just take a moment,” Paul said his voice far too calm for the situation. Ordinarily I admired his composed nature, but right now it grated on my nerves. This wasn’t the time to be calm. How could he not understand?
“Oliver doesn’t have a moment!”
“Luke, I appreciate the urgency, and I want to help, but I need a little more information to do so. Maybe you should start by contacting Oliver first to see if he’s okay?” Paul said.
“Right, yeah, yeah, that’s a good idea.” I shot off a quick text, trying to step away from the cliff I found myself standing upon. Oliver was surrounded by people and in a place with a facilitator equipped to handle a scenario like this. Surely that would prevent anything bad from happening. But it appeared the logical functioning of my brain had shut down, consumed only with worry.
“He’s not responding!” Never mind the fact it couldn’t have been more than thirty seconds since I’d sent my message.
“Okay, we’ll give him a moment. I assume he didn’t file an official report against this Vincent Langley?” Paul asked.
“No, Oliver didn’t want to and I respected his choice.” I regretted that decision now. Would it be one more way I failed the person I loved the most?
“Hang on, is this the same person you mentioned months ago? The one you said you were working off the books during check-in?” Shawn asked.
“Yeah, that was Oliver,” I said. “Goddammit. I should’ve pushed him to file the night he called me. If I’d done things by the book, maybe we wouldn’t be here right now.”
A hand gripped my shoulder. I turned to see Sarah had come up beside me. “You did the right thing, Luke. It was better he got out of the situation and somewhere safe.”
