Unhinged (Necessary Evils #1)(65)

Calliope was right. They needed to find these kids and, somehow, make sure they got some kind of help or, at the very least, justice. If Adam had known Holt was not his father but his abuser—if he’d remembered the abuse and torture he’d endured sooner—he would have thanked Adam for killing the man. Even if foster care had sucked. Even if he’d spent years living in a constant state of uncertainty. Holt being dead would have been worth all of it.

Noah couldn’t imagine a world with Holt still in it and felt a wave of relief every time he remembered the man was dead. He scrubbed his hands over his face. What if the fragmented hard drive showed nothing? They’d only managed to get half of it at most. Noah knew nothing about computers, but he knew the whole drive had to be better than half.

Noah sat up, throwing off the covers. He could go get it. He still had the key. He could slip in and out without Gary even knowing he had ever been there. Then Calliope would have the whole drive, not just pieces of the puzzle.

As quickly as inspiration stuck, it evaporated, disappointment replacing his excitement. Even if he could get to Gary’s house, he didn’t know anything about cloning hard drives or any other technology outside a cell phone. Adam had taken care of that part. He didn’t even fully understand what cloning was, but he assumed it was like taking a photocopy.

Noah flushed at his own stupidity. He didn’t need a photocopy. Gary was already onto them. Noah just needed the original. He could take the laptop. There was no way Gary wasn’t putting it all together, even if he hadn’t installed the cameras in the storage unit. Noah didn’t have to be careful anymore, and even he could steal one fucking laptop. Hell, he’d stolen Gary’s backpack right under his nose.

If he took the laptop, Calliope would theoretically have everything. Even if the boys’ names weren’t on it, there had to be something to help them unravel this fucking mess of victim and abuser. He took a deep breath and let it out, just as Calliope had done earlier. He was doing it. Even if it was a bad idea. Even if it was the worst idea ever. Those kids deserved some kind of justice.

He grabbed his phone, looking at the time. Midnight. Gary would definitely be at the club at that time of night. Noah dropped his phone back onto the side table and stood, shoving his legs back into his jeans and throwing on a t-shirt. Once he had his phone and wallet, he ordered an Uber and went to meet it out front.

He slipped into the icy interior of a Lincoln Navigator, shivering as the leather seats grazed his skin. He was grateful the driver didn’t try to make conversation. It already felt like there was a hornet’s nest in Noah’s stomach. Was he really doing this? Yes, he was, and Adam was going to fucking kill him.

But Adam wasn’t the boss of him. At least, that was what he told himself. Still, Noah pulled his phone out, firing off a text before he could think better of it.

Can’t sleep. Going to get the hard drive from Gary’s. Be back soon. Love you.





He hit send before he realized what he’d typed. He stared down at those last two words. It was true. He did love Adam, but he’d never said so. For a number of reasons. They barely knew each other. It seemed insane to declare his love after just a couple of weeks.

But more than that, it was because he knew Adam couldn’t reciprocate. And saying I love you only to hear nothing back would break something in him, even if that wasn’t fair to Adam. Thomas had warned Noah, and he’d said it didn’t matter. And it didn’t in a big picture kind of way.

Adam protected him, comforted him, gave him what he needed as long as Noah gave clear, concise instructions. Adam did everything he could to show Noah that they belonged together. He knew it, too. He did. On the most basic, fundamental level, Noah knew there was nobody else for him but Adam. They were…bonded. Even if that bond was formed through blood and trauma. Or maybe because of it.

But Adam would never have butterflies over Noah, would never ache from missing him, wouldn’t long for him when they were apart, would never get that breathless, caught up feeling that came from just knowing that person was near. Part of Noah envied him, while the other part hurt for him. Those things were both a blessing and a curse.

Noah looked down at his screen at the photo of the two of them that Adam had turned into Noah’s wallpaper. They looked so normal, so in love. In the picture, Adam was lying beside him, their heads slotted together, both making stupid faces. Adam didn’t look like somebody who couldn’t love Noah. Adam looked like he did love Noah and Adam never pretended with him.

Noah once more took a deep breath and let it out.

“Everything okay?” the driver asked.

Noah’s head bobbed. “Yes, I’m fine. Just tired.”

The driver once more went back to ignoring him, and Noah watched the world pass by in a swirl of headlights. The truth was, it didn’t matter if Adam loved him or not. Noah wasn’t going anywhere. The chemicals Adam’s brain denied him—the ones that released endorphins or dopamine or whatever it was that tricked people into thinking they were in love—were the same ones that told Noah nobody else mattered, nobody but Adam.

Hell, Adam hadn’t even needed those chemicals to choose Noah. He just had. He’d looked at Noah and decided he was his person. The one he’d kill for, die for, choose over any other, including his own family. So, that had to be better, right? Making the decision to do those things without the chemicals. It felt better to Noah. It felt like love. So, that was what Noah would call it. Adam loved Noah in every way he could.