Page 27

And Dante had allowed him to leave.

Hadn’t kept him hostage. Carver wasn’t Dante’s prisoner even though he wanted to be.

Shaking his head, Carver started up the sidewalk that led to his front door. It was better to get inside and figure out what to tell his best friends. If the plan needed to be reworked, it needed to be done sooner rather than later. All Carver knew was that he wasn’t the person for the job. That he couldn’t do what had been his fucking idea to begin with.

Carver tried not to compare his small house with the peeling paint and battered wood porch to the literal castle that he’d left behind. Or how the cobblestones and shiny bricks of the neighborhood in Blackstone had given away to cracked sidewalks and streets full of potholes the closer he’d walked to the ports.

He could have ordered a car to take him home but Carver hadn’t wanted to be around anyone. The tears he couldn’t stop. His mind was screaming at him to go back. To beg Dante to keep him forever. And for a damn vampire, forever held a whole new meaning.

Instead of what would have been a half-hour drive and turned into a very long and painful walk.

Carver was considering it his walk of shame.

He’d just set one foot on the porch when the hairs on the back of his neck stood. What was that? That odd feeling of being… Carver whirled around to peer out into the dark night.

There was no movement. Not as late as it was. The humans of the neighborhood had turned in hours ago. Only Carver was out there in the dark. No sounds. Nothing. And still he would swear that he was being watched.

Turning slowly, Carver closed the distance to the door. Enough bullshit. Carver just needed to put space between him and Dante to get his head on straight. He didn’t belong in the big fancy house across town. This was his home. Owen and Kenny were his people.

Carver twisted the knob, unsurprised to find that door wasn’t locked. If Kenny was the last one in, he always forgot to lock the door behind him. It was almost a full-time job to watch out for his friend.

Kenny was both absent-minded while also being able to hyper fixate on something that he was working on. If Kenny was in his workshop, basically Carver’s garage before they’d all moved into together, then he had a one-track mind. And as a little, Kenny went from toy to toy until something tickled his brain and they never knew what it would be.

“Honey, I’m home!” Carver called cheerfully after closing the door behind him. He placed his bag on the floor next to him as it sounded like two elephants were rampaging through the house toward him.

“Carver!” Owen reached him first. “About damn time. Why didn’t you call us? We’ve been worried sick.”

Carver patted Owen’s back as his friend hugged him tight. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Owen breathed deep. Like he needed to remember to stay calm.

Looking over Owen’s shoulder, Carver spotted Kenny hovering in the door. Carver beckoned him forward. “No hug?”

Relief flashed over Kenny’s face before Carver found himself in a three-way hug with his very best friends. Jesse really would fit in perfectly with him. And that brought back a flash of guilt again. Carver hadn’t just left Dante. Jesse was going to be alone again with no other little to play with. The gnomes had been so cute and hilarious, acting out their little scenes. Carver was going to miss them too.

Owen was the first to pull away. “Are you really okay?”

“I’m fine,” Carver lied. Luckily his best friends were human and couldn’t tell that he wasn’t quite telling the truth.

Owen hummed and didn’t seem convinced.

Okay, maybe it didn’t matter that Owen was human. He could still tell when Carver was hiding something. Like being hungry. That was what came from living together and always being in each other’s pockets.

“We were scared that the bloodsuckers were doing awful things to you,” Kenny whispered.

Carver gave him one last squeeze. “Nothing of the sort.”

“What did happen?” Owen demanded.

Carver pressed his lips together. He had the entire walk across town to come up with a story. Had he done that? That would be a big fat no. He’d been concentrating too hard on putting one foot in front of the other and not running back to Dante.

“What?” Owen asked. “Did they catch you?”

“No,” Carver replied. “They have no idea.”

Owen relaxed and smiled. “You do look better. They fed you? How?”

Carver waved toward the living room. “Can we go sit or do we have to talk about this at the front door?”