Luke was laying on his couch, enjoying the serenity of his silent house before his parents could put it on the market. Golden sunlight streamed in through the windows, dancing on the hardwood floors, sending specks of dust floating through the air. The television was muted, lights flashing off his face. His cell phone was buzzing endlessly where it sat on his table. He knew it was from his brothers, no doubt nagging him about why he was at home at noon on a Tuesday. Luke wasn't sure why they were still trying to make him go to school. He had already unenrolled himself.

Luke couldn't believe how fast their tight group of four had dwindled down to one. Well, two if you count Calum, but he's just a ghost now. So really one. Michael off in some other country probably being stuffed into a suit by his parents. Calum's dead. And Ashton's in jail. Luke dragged a hand over his face, his fingernail catching momentarily on the ring around his lip. He had gotten it to spite Jack, but Calum had liked it so much he kept it. He still hadn't gathered the courage to take it off. 

There were so many memories in this house. Luke remembered Calum coming here for the first time after they saw him on the train, sitting tentatively on the edge of the couch as though Luke and the rest of them might attack him at any minute. He remembered way back, before anything happened, inviting Calum over for the first time. This was before Ashton was even in the picture. Making up some excuse of needing a tutor for math, Luke let Calum sit on his bed. His curly black hair falling into his eyes, his hand constantly reaching to brush it back before it tumbled back down again. He wore a t-shirt with a slightly stretched-out collar, so Luke could see the arch of his neck down to his shoulder blades, smooth, dark skin with the sunlight melting over it like butter. His voice, talking about numerical nonsense, kind and compassionate.

He remembered after their first kiss at Calum's, a couple days later they reunited at Luke's. They were awkward. Calum wouldn't make direct eye contact and Luke was trying a little too hard to catch his eye. They kept running into each other as they passed each other in rooms, Michael annoyed from the couch: "Just sit down and watch the damn movie already."

He remembered Michael leaving early and then it was just the two of them, sitting from a distance, Luke messing with the rings on his fingers. And then Calum spoke, "About the other day, I––"

"I hope I didn't––" Luke began.

"I think we were just––"

But as Calum finally looked up and Luke, at last, met his eyes, they both stopped talking. Calum didn't know what to say. In retrospect, Luke realized Calum probably struggled a bit with the whole oh I kissed a guy and I actually really liked it part. Calum was always talking to the girls in school, and having feelings toward boys probably was not in his 4-year plan.

Luke had closed the distance between them and cupped one hand around the back of Calum's neck, the skin soft and warm. He drew him close, pressed his lips against Calum's, and it just felt... right.

Luke took a deep breath from where he laid, now, on the couch. Calum was gone, mostly. And he was about to lose the house that carried all of these memories he held so close. But it wasn't enough to make him go back to school. There was no purpose for him there.

He finally reached over and took his phone, scrolling past the endless messages of his brothers yelling at him and moving to Calum.

Luke: Can I come over?

He added, carefully, as if they were just falling in love again: I miss you.

He waited a couple minutes watching the screen, heart racing, about to fall back onto the couch before Calum's bubble finally popped up.

Calum: You never have to ask.

Thank God. Luke stood up and grabbed his keys, heading toward the door.

Outside, the sun was bright, making Luke squint his eyes. It felt refreshing to have the warmth on his skin, in the midst of the recent cold. He thought of summers spent outside. The boys always liked Luke's backyard, lush with fresh green grass and willowy trees providing a canopy across the yard, a bit of shade in the sweltering sun. Michael would bring his guitar and play it idly while Calum rested his head on Luke's chest, dew drops dancing on the surface of flower petals, the sun melting on them as though it were fluid.

Luke shook his head from the memory. He finally reached his car, but when he went to grab the door handle, he felt a chill shiver down his spine. Goosebumps prickled across his skin, and he saw a figure in the reflection of his car window. Turning around, his head knocked against something cold, and hard.

It was a gun. Black and very real-looking, the barrel was pointed straight at Luke's head.

For a moment, Luke wasn't sure how to breath. He couldn't stop staring at the barrel long enough to look at the figure holding it. He was so close he could see little specks of dust floating on the weapon's surface.

Luke finally broke his gaze away from the gun to look at its owner. The man holding it was unfamiliar. The freshness of his face told Luke he was young, but probably in his late twenties or early thirties. He had black fabric covering his mouth and nose, leaving only his eyes exposed, dark and icy.

Luke felt his heart leap into his throat. His mouth went dry, his tongue rough as basalt. Shit. Shit, shit shit. What does he want? He fumbled in his pockets for his wallet, already trying to hand his phone over.

The man paid no mind to them, instead training his eyes directly on Luke's. "Take me inside." His voice was gruff and low. Luke quietly panicked. He had no clue who he was.

Luke shakily put his wallet and phone back in his pocket. "Inside the house?" Stalling. He thought of Calum, waiting for him at his apartment.

In response,tThe man turned the safety off with a dainty little click.

His heart jumped again. "Okay, okay," Luke said, shakily turning back towards the house. The man followed him, his black combat boots crunching over gravel. He was tall, nearly the same height as Luke, with dark brown hair sticking out from under his hat. He stayed close behind Luke, to the point that if he turned his head at all, his skull collided with the barrel.

Luke slowly pushed the door back open, hoping maybe one of his neighbors would spot him and do something. Slowly stepping into the living room, he glanced around him. What could he grab?

A small table by the door held a lamp with a sturdy base. He wondered if he could grab it without getting a bullet through his brain in the process.

The man had followed him inside. "Where are the records?" The man ordered. Luke was still looking at the lamp, but this startled him.

"What?"

"The records. Calum Hood's files from the police station."

Luke could barely comprehend what he was saying. "You want the files?" Why would he want the files?

Luke looked toward the couch, which the files were stored underneath. He slowly made his way to the files, pulling the folder out. Papers threatened to spill out from how full the folder was with information they had gathered about Calum.

"Why do you want them?" Luke asked, but handed them over.

The man took it from Luke's hands, not answering. He took a quick look inside before tucking it underneath his arm.

"Don't mention this to anyone, Hemmings."

Luke's heart nearly skipped a beat at his last name coming out of the man's covered mouth. With his gun still pointed at Luke, the man slipped back out the door, and a moment later he heard the rev of an engine. He pushed back the curtains to see an old pick-up truck driving away, engine sputtering, black exhaust trailing after him in the road.

Luke's knees buckled and he fell against the wall, sliding down until he sat on the floor. Tears threatened to prick his eyes, and he felt that familiar stick in his throat. He made himself swallow it down, focusing on taking deep breaths. His hands were shaking, his heart racing. He still saw that black gun in his vision.

Once the nerves subsided, for the most part, Luke pushed himself to his feet, closed the front door, and took a brief look around the house to make sure no one else was hiding out to surprise him. He knew it was irrational but once he cleared the house, he breathed a little easier.

Luke drank a glass of water, trying to get his hands to stop shaking, and then he remembered Calum.

It took every ounce of courage to walk back outside to his car. He slipped in quickly, immediately locking it behind him, and swiveled in his seat to check the backseat. "Jesus," he told himself, breathily. He started the car.

---

Calum answered the door wearing a plain white t-shirt, his skin so dark underneath that he could nearly see the tattoos adorning his collarbones. His hair was ruffled and curly, messily tickling the tips of his ears. An easy smile was on his face, and he was barefoot, his black sweatpants brushing his ankles.

"Hey," he said. Then he took notice of Luke's worried face. "Are you okay?"

Luke stepped inside, dazed, and Calum shut the door behind them, then put one hand on Luke's shoulder and the other over his shoulder blades and let him to the couch. His brown eyebrows were creased with worry, and he sat beside Luke anxiously.

"What happened? You look so shaken," Calum said. Luke took a deep breath, appreciating Calum's presence and the calming cinnamon-sweet smell of his hair. He pressed his lips together, the ring edging into his skin, and then turned toward the boy.

"A guy with a gun came to my house just now."

Calum nearly jumped out of his seat. "What?" He automatically began scanning Luke's body for bullet holes.

"I'm fine," Luke said. "He came and demanded your police files and then he left."

Calum's eyebrows creased even more. "Why did he want my files?"

Luke shrugged. Calum pressed his forehead on Luke's shoulder, wrapping his arms around Luke's torso and pulling him close. Luke rested his head on top of Calum's. "That must have been so scary," Calum whispered.

Luke allowed himself to laugh, just a little. "I nearly shit myself."

"If only Michael were there, he probably would have knocked that guy down with one punch," Calum said.

"Especially after seeing him fight Ashton's dad," Luke agreed. The two of them stayed like that for a little while, Calum waited for Luke's heart to slow down and Luke enjoying Calum's company.

One of the hardest things after Calum died was missing out on moments like this. After he died, Luke sunk into some kind of unshakable stupor, knee-deep in grief and drowning in mourning. Luke drank when he never used to, passing out on his bed every night. He woke up sick and filthy, where he laid there, heavy, before hauling himself into the shower, where his chest would open and the tears would return to his eyes.

Even when Michael and Ashton would come over and join in his wallowing, not even their company made him feel better. He kept on thinking about how he would never see Calum's eyes crinkle when he laughed again, how he would never feel Calum's embrace, how he would never hear his voice. It hurt, like he was punched in the stomach and he has to teach his body how to work again.

So, although Calum is only partly there, Luke was going to relish every single moment.

Calum's head lifted from Luke's shoulder. "We need to talk about the files."

Luke nodded. "Michael and I made copies, so we probably only lost a fourth of it. But I don't know why he would need it."

Calum offered, "Maybe he wants to help figure out who did it?"

Luke chuckled. "If only. I think it's more on the I-don't-want-you-to-find-out-who-did-it thing."

"Could he have been the one who did it?" Calum asked. Luke considered this.

"I guess it's possible. But I've never seen him in my life," Luke said. "Dark eyes, fair skin, probably mid-twenties? He had dark brown hair."

Calum's lips pursed, but he shook his head. "I don't know." They sat there for a moment longer. Then Calum sat up.

"Maybe this means something. Maybe..." He paused. "Maybe we're getting closer, and he knows it. That's why he took the files."

Luke thought about this. It's possible. It's an optimistic option, yes, but possible. He turned and looked at Calum, who was busy twisting the rings he wore around his fingers.

For your sake, Calum, I really hope you're right.

---
A/N: any guesses on who y'all think did it???

only about 5 or 6 chapters left in this book.... wild

are the people reading this book first-time readers or have y'all read any of my other books??

I hope you guys are doing well. I love you to the moon.

bye