“Javi—”
“Maybe next time you could put a tracker on me,” he cuts Silas off. “Save yourselves the frustration.”
“We’re not putting a fucking tracker on you,” Gideon says.
Now Silas is a few feet from Javier, in front of his cabin, staring at the other man.
“You checking to see if I’m high right now?” Javier asks, his voice suddenly soft and edged.
“No.”
Javier holds out both arms, wrists up.
“I don’t tell you guys everything,” he says. “There. Happy? Do I still get to keep some things to myself?”
“Jesus fucking Christ, Javi, there’s keeping things to yourself and then there’s disappearing for—"
Gideon’s cut off by Wyatt, who closes the ten feet between them and wraps Javier in a massive, tight hug.
“I’m sorry,” Wyatt says, and doesn’t let up.
After a moment, Javier’s arms go around Wyatt’s back: tentative at first, then tighter.
“Fuck,” I hear him mutter. “Me too.”
I watch as Silas and Gideon pile on, as well, until the four of them are standing in front of Javier’s cabin in one big lump, hugging.
“These idiots,” Lainey says, standing next to me, and I smile.
“Yeah,” I agree. “Idiots.”
* * *
I settlemy back against the wall and offer the bag to Silas, who reaches in and takes out a donut.
“This was a great idea,” he says through a mouthful.
“Thank Linda,” I say, reaching in myself and grabbing a slightly sticky, still-warm apple cider donut. “She was very excited to tell me all about them yesterday.”
“Maybe I should unleash you on my colleagues by yourself more often,” he says, and I snort hard. Cinnamon sugar sprays off my donut and onto the roof in front of me.
“Don’t you dare,” I say. “Just because I survived it doesn’t mean I want to do it again.”
Silas turns and presses a quick kiss to my hair. There’s probably cinnamon sugar in it now, but I don’t say that. I just enjoy the moment as we watch the sun lower in the sky over Sprucevale, mouths full of fried dough.
It’s been a day. Even after storming into Wildwood in a borrowed car at six in the morning, Javier absolutely refuses to tell anyone where he was or why he was missing for three whole days. Not even a hint.
It’s fucked up of him, for sure. I spent the morning kind of wanting to shake him and shout what the hell, they thought you were dead, but that’s very much not my job so I did some glaring and left it at that. Silas, Gideon, and Wyatt are pissed, but they’re also glad he’s not dead, so I think they’ve reached a tentative truce.
Then, after we came down the mountain and told Javier’s family he’s alive and called off Search and Rescue and the police and showered, Silas and I got donuts and came up here, to the roof of the Sprucevale Central Library. The key is hidden above the door frame to one of the archive rooms, and I didn’t even ask why Silas knew that.
“Linda also said that Jackson Orchard has better donuts, but they don’t open until September,” I say.
“We should go,” Silas says. “You ever been apple picking?”
“Maybe once, when I was a kid.”
He grins over at me, one thumb in his mouth as he sucks the sugar off it. I wonder if anyone can see us up here.