Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Maybe things will be all right after all.
Chapter 16
Nico
I have many fond memories from my grandpa's cabin. Learning to hunt, knit, make simple meals over the fire. Even hard days of training when he put me through my paces ended up feeling rewarding when he praised me for my endurance. He knew that if I were to succeed at becoming the next Christmas Killer and remain anonymous, I needed to be disciplined, strong, smart, and decisive. And then, if all else failed, the survival skills he taught me were supposed to save me if I needed to go off-grid.
The cabin is where we brought the decapitated body of my first kill. It’s hard to imagine only seven years have passed since that cold evening. Some days it feels as if it were yesterday, while at other times, I don’t know where the years have gone. I was so excited that night I almost left behind a glove, but Grandpa was there to pick it up.
I miss him.
My grandpa’s old cabin isn’t all that far from my hometown, but we’d originally headed in a different direction, so between the snow and the narrow roads, it took another few hours to reach it. But once the atmosphere between Blake and me cleared, the drive passed with silly games, trying to find a Christmas song Blake likes (yet to be determined) and easy conversation. I’m still upset over his betrayal, but I’ve found it in my heart to forgive him. Now that we’ve learned about his brother’s intentions, he seems more inclined to put his trust in me, the one man ready to be there for him.
He opened up about how he was raised, and how his brother resented him even before their parents died. Carl is fifteen years older than Blake, and in hindsight, Blake can see that his brother’s jealousy has never extinguished. He just learned to hide it better, and since kind words and gifts kept coming, Blake attached himself to his only remaining family member and was unable to view their relationship critically.
That’s now over, and as he reminisced about his life, I could see his facade crack whenever we returned to his brother in one way or another. He even recalled a conversation from a few months ago which now seems so ominous.
His brother took him out to the movies, and treated him to dinner after, which was unusual in itself, but Blake was just happy to hear about Carl’s escapades in the Maldives. At the restaurant, Carl nonchalantly mentioned Blake’s inheritance, and suggested that maybe nothing would need to change once Blake came of age. In that scenario, Carl would remain in control of both their money and continue managing all of Blake’s finances. When Blake pushed back against that idea, they had what felt like a minor disagreement at the time, and the topic never came up again. But in light of the facts we’ve discovered, Blake’s wondering if that evening wasn’t the trigger for Carl’s plan.
If Blake had died before his eighteenth birthday, his inheritance would have gone to charity. But now that he’s stepped into adulthood, the money will be Carl’s in the event of his brother’s death. How awfully convenient.
And if he died as a result of hooking up with a stranger, their departure captured by cameras inside a gay club, who would have suspected the caring big brother of foul play?
Things like that happened to sheltered gay boys sometimes.
But as we talked, it became clear that Blake really didn’t spend that much time in Carl’s company. The gifts he received were expensive but rarely tailored to Blake’s taste or needs—empty tokens given out of obligation rather than love.
His life sounds very lonely, with only a couple of adults who were paid to keep him safe and content. He had an imaginary friend for way longer than what could be considered normal childhood development, and he would sometimes sink into books for days at a time, consuming one, or even two within a period of twenty-four hours. He used to go on long walks around the property surrounding his house and imagine exciting events happening to a different version of him, a version surrounded by companions straight out of Blake’s favorite shows and novels.
It sounds like a very empty existence, which explains his desperation to put himself out there during his first-ever time at a nightclub. Be seen. Be noticed. Actually feel someone’s hands on his skin.
But now he has me, and I’ll give him all the attention he could ever dream of.
My car can deal with the snow-covered road just fine, and as we drive past the old tree that serves as a marker on the road to the cabin, I’m hit by a flood of memories of all the days I spent here with the only other person who knew the real me.