But by then, Tean was already taking his hand, spreading his fingers, running his own lightly over the still-sensitive skin.The touch was gentle—of course; this was Tean they were talking about—but everything still felt raw, and Jem was glad when it was over.
“I want you to take it easy today,” Tean said when he’d finished his inspection.
“No more soup.”
“No more soup,” Tean agreed.
“Tean,” Jem said.And then he stopped because he didn’t know what else to say.
Maybe Tean sensed it—he could be surprisingly perceptive when it came to the sorts of things hedidn’twant to talk about—because he got to his feet and started toward the kitchenette.
Jem’s phone buzzed.
After a full day without service, it took Jem a moment to place the sound.And a moment longer to be surprised—pleasantly—that the battery hadn’t died.He found his phone—along with his wallet, the telescoping antenna, and the paracord with the hex nut—on the counter.
Brigitte’s name flashed on the screen.
She cut in as soon as he answered, and her voice was thready.“Maeve and Milo are gone.”
25
Tean offered to go by himself, but nothing he said could convince Jem to stay behind and let him handle it.So, Tean watched as Jem dressed in the jeans, tee, and quarter-zip that Vaughan had brought them from one of the boutiques.There was even a new pair of boots and thick wool socks.Jem’s coat had dried overnight, and Jem took an extra minute to return his tools to the pockets before he started for the door.
Their new room was near a side exit that cut the distance to the chalet, which was a good thing—the cold, if anything, seemed sharper today.Now that the storm had moved out, the thin mountain air was like a held breath.The whole world had gone still, and the only sounds were Jem and Tean’s steps crunching through the snow.Sunlight reflected off the snow to make the day impossibly bright, and Tean made a mental note that if they were going to spend any significant amount of time outside, they’d need sunglasses or ski goggles.
When they got to the chalet, Jem stopped short of the door and waved for Tean to hold.Tean stood there, shivering inside his own coat as Jem walked a circle around the chalet.When Jem disappeared behind the structure, time seemed to slow down.Tean caught himself holding his breath, and he forced himself to breathe in four-counts until Jem reappeared, coming around the far side with the same unhurried stride.Whatever yesterday had taken out of Jem—and Tean knew that, even if Jem would never admit it, exhaustion was the least of it—his mother’s phone call had made up for it with a fresh wave of—
Well, in anyone else, Tean would have called it mania.
That wasn’t quite right, of course.But something—Jem’s eyes, the way he moved, the way he didn’t seem to hear Tean, now that his mother had called with a fresh emergency—made Tean think of stories he heard, stories he knew were exaggerated or stereotyped, stories passed down through TV and word of mouth.Stories about people who stayed up all night stripping wallpaper.
And all she had to do was call.
Tean tried to press the thought down.Tried to bury it with other thoughts: Jem was kind, Jem was forgiving, Jem wanted to help the people he cared about.Thank goodness for all those traits.Those were wonderful traits.And Tean’s own relationship with Jem hadn’t been perfect.Tean had been lucky—sometimes, he thought luckier than he had any right to be—that Jem’s kindness and forgiveness had made it possible for them to build a relationship together.
But she’d walked out on him.She’d left him.If Jem’s childhood memories could be trusted, the state had taken Jem from his mother.But she’d never come back for him, never tried to get him out of care.Worse, she’d stolen his identity.She’d ruined his credit.She’d abandoned him to be abused, to be imprisoned, to be treated like an animal.And Tean knew the reasons.She hadn’t been well.She’d been abusing drugs.There was probably—even if Jem didn’t know it or didn’t want to talk about it—some mental illness, which frequently accompanied drug abuse.And now that she’d gotten her life back on track, she was trying to have a relationship with her son.
Becausehehad tracked her down.
Not because she had wanted to find him.
And all she had to do was say one word.All she had to do was say,Jump, and Jem would jump like he was—like he was one of those stupid Mario Brothers.All she had to do was give him a glimmer of hope, and Jem would walk through fire for her.
Jem trudged through the snow to rejoin him, and for what felt like the hundredth time in the last few days, Tean reminded himself it was none of his business, and he should be glad Jem and his mother had found each other again, and anyway, the woman’s children were missing, and her husband had been murdered, and was it really so much to ask for Tean to show a little compassion?
And that helped.
A little.
“No sign of anybody going in or out,” Jem said.
Tean nodded.
Jem started for the chalet.
“Jem,” Tean said.
The blond man glanced back.The sun sparked in his beard.
