Page 90 of Quiet
“Only a moron would put rye rolls in the oven without a pan of water, Meredith.” Isa groused at their flatscreen. “You’re going to be out this week if you don’t get your shit together!”
Isa never used to swear. Not unless he was extremely upset. Now he did it constantly. It was music to Briar’s ears. It meant Briar had given him a safe place to explore who he really was.
Isa’s phone chirped and, at first, Briar thought he would ignore it, but then it chirped again. Then again.
Isa finally checked his screen and went painfully, horribly still.
“What’s the matter?”
“N-nothing.” Isa’s face slowly began to lose color. “It’s a job I’d forgotten about. I need to take care of this, I’ll be right back.”
Briar watched as Isa scurried out of the room with hunched shoulders.
He was gone so long, Briar was about to go after him. When he finally returned, the haunted look was back in full force.
Briar was fully intent on questioning him but was interrupted by Alex, Bea, and Sierra as they returned from their trip to the local art store. The rest of the evening was taken up with sorting through their bounty and planning out what belonged to who and which projects each item was for.
By the time they were done, Isa was asleep on the couch, and Briar couldn’t bring himself to wake him up. He carried the sleeping boy to their bed and vowed to ask him about it in the morning.
But Isa was already up and nearly out the door when Briar awoke the next day. He didn’t return until late and then was out early the next morning as well. Briar understood projects could steal a person’s time away, so he wasn’t worried at first, but the forced cheerfulness Isa presented him with was painfully unsettling.
When Isa got home that day, Briar would sit on him—literally if he had to—and force the truth out of him. He didn’t care what time he got home, or how tired the boy was. Briar would get to the bottom of whatever was upsetting Isa today.
Except he didn’t come home. And he didn’t answer his phone. And no one knew where he was.
When Briar called her, Fiona told him Isa had no modeling appointment that day. He’d finished everything on his schedule the day before. He had nothing else scheduled at all because he’d canceled all future projects.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I thought you knew, sweetheart. He told me you two were going on a spontaneous road trip together.”
Briar couldn’t form words. Either out loud or in his head. All he could hear was static.
Chapter33
Isa
It was always dark in the closet, and a lot smaller than Isa remembered. He had no idea how long he’d be in here for, and he had nothing but the throbbing of his back to keep him company.
It was better in some ways than before. In other ways much worse. He had wonderful memories to wrap around himself as a barrier against the pain. Sometimes, he would drift into a light daze, and the memories would become a hazy movie he could live inside. A movie where he was loved, had friends, and was safe.
But he always came to and found himself back in the pitch-black closet he’d been stuffed into shortly after he’d come home. His dad called it his thinking spot. There was no food for Isa in his thinking spot. But he did have a bucket.
Before, when he was younger and had nothing good to look back on, he would do the kind of thinking he was supposed to do in the thinking spot. He’d reflect on his mistakes and determine to become the dutiful son he was supposed to be.
Not anymore. Unlike before, when he had no experience of the wider world, he knew now that everything he’d been taught was complete bullshit.
If it hadn’t been for the scholarship he didn’t even remember applying for, he’d never have known there was more to life than duty, service, and Jesus.
He didn’t even know where he’d gotten the balls to lie to his parents and tell them his scholarship had been for the history department—with a focus on religion, of course—instead of the theater department. However he’d gotten it, he thanked his lucky stars. Because without that core of rebellion, he’d never have the heart to do what he was about to do next.
He'd done everything in his power not to black out after the beating he’d gotten because he needed to have some idea of the time. His internal clock wasn’t the best, but it was better than trying to guess the time after passing out in his pitch-black slice of hell.
He’d left Briar a note. It was hidden away so he wouldn’t find it before Isa was long gone and he wouldn’t have a chance to stop him, but eventually Briar would look through Isa’s clothes and he’d find out why Isa had left.
He hadn’t told him everything exactly, but it would be enough for Briar to get the gist.
Isa had been holding back one tiny detail about his relationship with his family. The final reason he’d been so hesitant to leave. Aside from his fear of being alone, he was also afraid his father would pull his trump card and have him dragged back by the police.
