Page 55 of Psycho
They listened to her type for a solid minute. “The vehicle is owned by Vasili Kudashev. Age sixty. Russian import/export guy.”
August frowned, gaze returning to the man in the booth. This was definitely not a sixty-year-old Russian. August supposed the man inside could have stolen it, but he also doubted a sixty-year-old man was going to be into street racing, and that car was most definitely used for racing. “Does he have a son?”
More typing. “Um, no. He has a daughter and a grandson. Daughter is thirty-eight, grandson is fifteen.”
August shook his head, trying to make the pieces fit. “I need to get into that car. Tell me you can turn off the alarm.”
“Hm, looks like he put a five thousand dollar unhackable alarm on that car.” August blew out an irritated breath, but then she said, “Luckily, this system relies on an app. An easily hackable app. Give me ten minutes and you can have total control of his vehicle. Hell, you can drive away with it if you like.”
With that, she was gone. They sat, watching the two men talk emphatically about something, Kohn jabbing his finger against the table as the man across from him dipped French fries into a milkshake like the two were on a date.
August received a text that said:Car’s all yours.
“Keep an eye on them. Let me know if our friend starts to leave.”
Lucas didn’t answer, just nodded, gaze glued to the two figures inside. August didn’t waste any time. He went in on the driver’s side, looking around for anything that would give any clue as to who this new player was. His registration was also made out to this Vasili, but the insurance was with a company named D&G Ltd. August knew a bullshit company when he heard one. He flipped through the owner’s manual, hoping something might come loose, but there were no papers. He was just about to close the glove box when he noticed a piece of paper wedged in the back. It was an invoice from an auto parts store. The customer name was Devon Nicholls.
Lucas rolled the window down. “We gotta go. She just brought the check.”
August did his best to replace everything exactly as he’d found it, closing the door and creeping back behind his truck just as Devon Nicholls pushed open the door of the diner. August made it back inside just as Nicholls deactivated his alarm system. Or, at least, thought he had. He didn’t even glance in their direction. Just hopped in his car and tore out of the parking lot fast enough to leave tire marks on the pavement.
Inside, Kohn was settling the check, chatting with the server who had looked at Devon Nicholls with such disgust. Lucas reached for the GPS locator so fast, August didn’t even have time to process what he was doing. He jumped from the truck, ducking down as he raced across the empty parking space to Kohn’s Navigator.
Like a horror movie, August watched as Kohn strode towards the front door. He looked to Lucas, who was fixing the tracker high up in the wheel well where it wouldn’t be noticed. Shit. August left the truck, his brain running through a million scenarios. If Kohn had seen him, they were fucked.
August rushed towards Kohn, spinning him around. “Oh, sorry, man. You wouldn’t happen to know if there’s a payphone in there, would you? My phone died and it’s an emergency.”
Kohn blinked at him in confusion. “What? No. I don’t know.”
From over Kohn’s shoulder, he watched Lucas close the truck door silently. “Yeah, sure. Sorry. Have a nice night.”
August had no choice but to enter the restaurant and wait. Luckily, Kohn seemed to lose interest in him immediately, leaving the parking lot as quickly as his friend.
Once back in the truck, he turned on Lucas. “You’re crazy. You could have gotten yourself killed.”
Lucas gave him a pissy look. “He wasn’t going to kill me in the middle of a diner parking lot. He’s having too much fun leaving me presents. I just want to know where he goes from now on.”
August sighed, hooking his hand behind Lucas’s neck, tugging him close enough to slant their lips together. Lucas didn’t resist, but he did look confused when August released him. “What was that for?”
August shrugged. “For being you, I guess. Can we go home now?”
Lucas nodded, exhaustion etched on his face. “Yes, please.”
When August had saidhome, somehow Lucas hadn’t expected it to be August’s home, even though he’d said as much that morning. Had it only been that morning? It was strange how his days stretched longer and longer but part of him still felt like he was hurtling to some unknown finish line that filled him with dread.
August’s apartment building was definitely luxurious. The building itself was tall and shiny with huge floor to ceiling windows and a lobby as big as any hotel’s. When they came to a halt at the entrance, August left the keys and came around, opening Lucas’s door for him before nodding at the valet. They passed an actual uniformed doorman. Lucas didn’t even know buildings still had doormen.
August took his hand as they entered, completely oblivious to the shocked expressions on the staff’s faces. Had August never brought somebody home with him? The thought of that filled him with a sort of smug satisfaction. In the elevator, August stood behind him, his arms around his waist, his chin hooked over his shoulder as they seemed to keep climbing higher and higher.
Lucas stared at their reflection in the mirrored doors. They were so different in every way. Dark and light. Apathy and empathy. Too much and never enough. Still, Lucas craved August’s touch, his obsession, the safety of knowing somebody was on his side. Did it make him a bad person for taking what August offered so willingly?
When August pushed in a code on the keypad next to his door, Lucas had no idea what to expect when it opened. He’d imagined August’s surroundings would be minimalist, tidy, lots of white space, maybe stacks of books. Guys like August tended to be rigid in their routine and in their decor. They often color coded things right down to their underwear.
What Lucas found was anything but sparse and minimalist. August’s entire apartment was black. The walls, the furnishings, the cabinetry. Even the rug on the wooden floors. But there were strange hints of warmth. A dark wood mantel with plants spilling over the edge. Light fixtures made of wood wrapped with black cords attached to bare bulbs that dangled over the enormous dining table and the stark white countertops in the otherwise black kitchen.
Somehow, the black paint, the raw wood, and the plants made the cavernous space seem more organic. Lucas had forgotten that August wasn’t the face he showed the world. Well, he wasn’t only that face. This was the darkest part of August, the real part. The one who didn’t think anything of having jars of what looked like remains lining bookshelves next to skulls covered in crystal, small antique figurines, and books that looked moments from disintegration.
“This is a very dark academia aesthetic, Mr. Mulvaney,” Lucas teased.
