Page 95 of Static

Sean crawled out of bed and laid on the floor. He bellied forward under the bed until he was able to grab whatever he was searching for. When his face reappeared, there was a small smile on it. In his hands was a picture frame.

Right away I noticed that the size of the frame was disproportionate to the picture. I didn't say anything. He didn't need to know exactly what was going on. But it was hard to bite back the triumphant grin. Fremont was so fucked.

Sean handed it to me. I looked at it, it was him, his sister, and Trent at the zoo. The smiles on their faces were…genuine. Even Trent's. Looking at this picture I could believe, just for a second, Sean's belief that Trent really was brainwashed. It wasn't the face of that bastard that attacked Gwen. I kept this to myself.

"Mom doesn't know I have that."

"It's okay, you won't get in any trouble. Do you mind if I keep it for a little while? Maybe it can help me." He nodded. I stood up and patted him on the shoulder, then headed for the door.

"Static?"

"Yeah, Bud?"

"Thanks, for...you know."

I smiled at him. "Of course. Anytime you need to talk, I'm here for you."

He crawled back into bed and turned the lamp on his nightstand off.

Going back into the living room, I sat next to Gwen on the couch. She watched as I looked over the frame carefully. It was way too thick for a five by seven photo. Sure enough, I found a seam in the corner. Grabbing my knife from my pocket, I dug the tip into it and pried it open. A USB drive fell out.

"Bingo." I said, picking it up.

Gwen's eyes met mine. There was hope and excitement there in her gaze. "Does this mean it's over?"

"Almost, Sugar. Almost."

She threw herself into my arms and I grinned. I had everything I fucking wanted, now I just needed to help make it safe for them. Then maybe this nightmare would end for her.

CHAPTER 33

Gwen

"You're with me, Peaches."

I looked up in surprise as Butcher walked past. "What do you mean?"

He just kept walking.

Seek shrugged her shoulders and bounced Sawyer in her arms, making him smile. "I'll keep an eye on the kids."

All the women were sitting outside, watching, while the kids played on the playground. It was a gorgeous day in the middle of February. The mild winters were one of the reasons I loved living in Arizona. But we were all starting to feel a little cooped up. It had only been a few weeks of the lockdown, but we were used to going to work, and our kids' schools, and grocery shopping at will. Now we were stuck on the compound all day, every day. We were all going a little stir crazy.

Shoving to my feet, I hurried after Butcher. I caught up to him in the clubhouse and he pointed toward the hallway that led back to where the gym, meeting room, and Lockout's office was located. I walked into the gym and wrinkled my nose at the drugs that were piled up in the corner.

"Ignore that. We'll be getting rid of it soon," he told me.

I put my hands on my hips and watched as he went to a corner and picked up a pair of boxing gloves. "What are we doing?"

"I'm tired of watching you do the wounded birdie routine. Time to fix it."

What did that mean? "Um…thanks, but I'm not sure…" I took the gloves he shoved at me.

He didn't give me the chance to finish the sentence. He grabbed first one arm, then the other, and stuffed the gloves onto my hands, cinching them down tight.

"Oh, no, no, no, no, I can't," I stammered. My heart rate shot through the roof. Just the thought of fighting made my mouth dry out. It was hard to swallow. The memories from that night were already starting up in my mind like a movie.

He searched my face. "You want to be scared for the rest of your life? You like being helpless?" One eyebrow rose, punctuating his question.

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