“No. My mom is dead and I never had a dad. I have grandparents, but they disowned me when they found out I was queer. I have an older brother too, but he never talked to me again after he left for college. He’s a lot older than me. I wasn’t planned.”
Carnage grunts. “That’s why you reached out to a stranger for help.”
“I saw you that night in the club and you looked so in charge and powerful. You broke up something between a couple of guys, and I felt like somehow maybe you could help. I’m glad I was right.”
“I’m glad you were brave.”
“I’m not sure if it was bravery or fear and desperation, but either way…”
“Either way.”
He smiles slightly, and it’s nice. He looks younger when he smiles.
“How old are you?” I ask.
“Twenty-nine. You?”
“Twenty-four.”
“I’m thirty-seven, if anyone cares.” Whisper sounds amused.
“You’re brothers?”
“In all the ways that matter,” Carnage says. “You’ll meet the others.”
“Are they all… uh, in the same job?”
“Yes.”
A few minutes later, the van pulls through a large wrought-iron gate and up a circular drive, then stops in front of a massive house. It’s beautiful, with a manicured lawn and shrubs.
“Whoa. You live here? Where are we?”
“Crestvale, and yes, we live here. Told you there was plenty of room for you.”
Whisper drops us off then drives around to park at the side of the building. I follow Carnage into the house, looking around like a kid in a toy store. “House” is not the right word for this place. It’s a mansion. And it’s soclean. I can smell lemon and lavender in the air.
The inside is exactly what I expected from the outside—marble floors, ornate trim, and expensive looking furnishings—but it doesn’t fit the image of the man standing next to me.
“Come,” he says, placing his hand on my shoulder before quickly removing it.
He leads me down a hallway to a room where several men are hanging out. Some of them are playing cards at a round table, some are sitting in front of the TV watching a movie, and a few are cuddled together in armchairs.
“Hey, guys,” Carnage says, drawing everyone’s attention. A dark-haired man mutes the TV, grinning in my direction. “Wehave a guest staying with us for…” He pauses, glancing at me. “For now. This is Rue.”
“Hi, Rue,” they all say at the same time, surprising me.
“Ghost.” Carnage points at the guy on the couch with the remote. “Phantom.” He points to the guy next to Ghost. “Stealth and Nimble,” he says, pointing to the men playing cards. “These lovebirds are Specter and Colson.” They’re sitting together in an armchair, with Colson on Specter’s lap. Colson is so beautiful it’s hard not to stare at him, and when he smiles warmly at me, my nerves settle a bit. There’s no way he’s a hit man. I don’t know how I know that, but I do. If he’s comfortable here, I could be too, right?
“This is Wraith and Pax,” Carnage continues, gesturing to two men in an oversized chair. Pax looks oddly familiar to me, but I don’t know how I could’ve seen him before.
“Welcome.” Wraith’s accented voice is deep and friendly.
“Thank you.”
“And Boone,” Carnage adds, pointing to a dark-haired guy sitting near Wraith and Pax. He waves at me and smiles.
“Did Bellamy leave?” Carnage asks.
