Vanished

Six

"What did you make tonight?" My brother asked as he sat down for dinner in one of the ratty mismatched kitchen chairs.

"It's creamy chicken and gnocchi."

He picked up the fork, but eyed the dish suspiciously. "That sounds a bit fancy."

I'd kept myself busy trying out new recipes. He liked most of them, but there had been a few he'd refused to eat. This one was not as experimental as some of the others had been.

"It's a new recipe, but it's good," I promised. "Just try it."

He took a cautious bite, and his eyes lit up. "This is good," he agreed. "Very good."

"Thanks."

He took another couple of bites and suggested I look for a job in a restaurant. I laughed at first but he said he was serious.

"Sport, I have no experience with the food industry."

"But you're good at it," he said and shoved another fork full into his mouth, like he couldn't eat it fast enough.

"I enjoy it, but I'm not sure I want to be a line chef in a fast-food joint."

He nodded as he continued to chew, but I could tell he was thinking about something.

"Maybe I should look for a job somewhere," I offered.

He frowned. "Where?"

"I don't know. A supermarket or something like that, maybe."

"Do you think you'll like that better than working as a line chef?"

No. I didn't. I had no interest in unpacking groceries and stocking shelves all day long anymore than I wanted to work in a fast-food restaurant. But living off my savings, or relying on my brother to support us all wasn't what I wanted either. And doing nothing but working out, trying new recipes and compiling research on whatever it was our father had hidden, was driving me insane.

My experience and my college degree were in accounting. And while I could apply for an accounting job, it would have to be a starting position I'd be very overqualified for, because I couldn't very well present myself as Jim, but hand over a resume for William.

In the past, we'd had help from the federal government in everything from changing our identifications to creating believable past resumes and family relationships, but this time we were reluctant to rely on them. We hadn't even let them know we moved.

Me and my brother had assumed the men following us in Boston were after our dad, but what if they weren't?

The way the feds had set things up, nobody should've been able to find us in the first place. Which was why we were reluctant to go that same route again.

"How's Ellie?" My brother asked and changed the subject.

"Good, I guess." I shrugged my shoulders. I hadn't spoken to her in over a week.

"Come on, bro," my brother groaned and leaned back in the chair with his eyes focused on me. "Don't tell me you're ghosting her?"

"No, I'm trying to keep her safe while we figure out why someone is searching for us," I snapped.

The look he gave me showed disappointment. "There's nothing that indicates they know where we are."

That, at least, was a good thing, but I didn't bother to respond. I didn't really know how to respond.

Bear felt the tension in the air. He came over and placed his big head on my lap and looked up at me with his big, round, brown eyes. I petted him gently on the head. He was a wonderful dog, and I knew I was acting like an asshole because I was frustrated with the living situation. Actually, with everything in my life. And if I was completely honest, I was scared.

Frightened that the men that had followed us would find us again. Or worse, find Ellie.

I was afraid that I'd lose her again.

"Don't punish Ellie because of this," my brother said as he stabbed a piece of chicken with his fork, knowing exactly what really bothered me. "She wants to see you just as much as you want to see her."

I sighed. He was right. I was acting like a jerk.

"I'm serious, Bro. Things have been quiet. Why don't you go see her?"

"What?" My fork clanged onto the plate as I dropped it. "You can't be serious!"

"Why not?" He cocked an eyebrow. "You miss her, don't you?"

"Of course I do, but there is no way I'm going to Georgia while those men are still out there somewhere looking for us."

"You don't have to go to Georgia to see her," he pointed out like I was an idiot. "Meet up with her. Take a weekend trip somewhere."

And that was not a half bad idea. Not a bad idea at all, actually.

"Do you think that would be safe?" I asked, suddenly a lot more hopeful about the future than I'd been a couple of minutes earlier.

"I wouldn't suggest it otherwise," he deadpanned. "There's nothing indicating they know where we are, or what names we're using."

"But still..."

"Bro," he sighed, "you're always careful, and you deserve to see your girl. Go meet her somewhere we've never been before."

My girl. Yeah. I really liked that idea.

I took a bite of the food while I considered it. We could meet somewhere halfway between here and Georgia. I'd love to spend a few days with her, just the two of us.

The question was if she'd agree to meet up with me?

My brother's phone vibrated with a new text message. He flipped it over and I watched how his eyebrows rose high on his forehead. "It's from dad," he said in a surprised tone.

That had me instantly back in an alarmed mode. We hadn't heard from him in a really long time.

"What does it say?" I urged.

"Six."

"Six?" I repeated.

"Yeah."

"That's it?"

"Yes. Just the number 6."

I got up from the table and walked into the living room, where I kept the notebook our father had given me. I brought it back to the table, but flipped through the pages as I walked. "According to this," I told my brother, "six means rock."

"Rock?"

"Yeah."

"Like a stone?" He asked with his face scrunched up, like he had a bad taste in his mouth.

"Your guess is as good as mine, Sport."

"Awesome, just awesome clues," he chuckled sarcastically.