Chapter 15: The Hours Have Changed

112 13 1
                                    


Malachi walked down the all-white hall with slick white marble floors. The Abramov's east coast estate was grand and cold. The only sign of the family that lived there was a portrait of Gavin with his brother, sister, and parents dressed to the nines that hung in the great room above the black porcelain wood-burning fireplace. The house was rarely used by anyone in the family. It was mostly a hub to store all their priceless artworks from Baroque to Modernist and Hellenistic sculptures.

He stopped at the cracked bedroom door to collect his thoughts. Get his head in the right space. Quell his worries about the welfare of Alex. Postpone his pondering on the predicament Isabeth has fallen into and halt the swell of uncertainty of whether the police would find Faith.

He read once, in a medical article he came across on the internet after learning that Gavin had slipped into a coma, that the patients could still hear and the last thing Malachi wanted was for Gavin to sense the trepidation in his tone.

Malachi inhaled and exhaled two steady breaths then pushed the door open. He clenched his teeth, praying for the impossible. To see his old friend sitting up in the bed, flipping through channels and complaining about how bad TV has gotten since his year of slumber but that wasn't the case. Nothing had changed. The boy who was his brother before he even knew he had one was still flat on his back with his head pressed against the pillow and the covers stopping just below his chest.

"How keeps doing this?" Malachi mumbled to himself as she strode to the bed. He yanked back the royal blue comforter and satin white sheets, "You're not a toddler. You don't need to be tucked in." He lifted Gavin's arms one at a time ensuring they weren't under the covers but rested nicely on top. "Better." He smoothed his hands over the comforter ridden with the rich fabric of wrinkles.

He took a step back from the bed, to take in the sight of the boy. As the heart monitor steadily ticked by Malachi's side he scrolled his eyes down Gavin, from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet. Blonde curls haloed around his now alabaster skin. No matter how much sun poured into the picturesque windows along the room, it was never enough vitamin D to restore Gavin's golden tan. His face was bare of all hair, evidence that he'd had his morning bath. The woman never listened to Malachi, even though he showed her a picture of Gavin and informed her that he abhorred having a naked face she'd always leave him clean-shaven. This wouldn't happen if Faith was here, he thought to himself. Faith would've given the young nurse a tongue lashing so fierce her hand would shake if it ever came near a razor.

"Been living the dream, man." Malachi dropped his brawny body in the caramel leather chair by the bed. "I mean it'd be ten thousand times better if you were there but..." His voice died as he stilled his sight on the bed, Gavin's legs stiff as if he were a corpse. He shook his head, trying to get his mind off of death. Gavin wasn't dying. Faith's not dead. Alex isn't causing someone's death. No one is going to dance with the Grim Reaper. "How 'bout we forgo reading and watch a movie." He reached toward the nightstand making sure not to disturb the monitors and oxygen machine and grabbed the remote. "I'm a little too tired for words and I've got enough of the tragedies."

Malachi aimed the remote at the television just as the door swung open. His bister eyes went to the doorway, "Hel...lo. You lost?"

The thin freckled-faced man with perfect curls gifted Malachi with a humorless smile, "Am not." His lackluster lips dropped as he took measured steps into the room. "But...how do I put this..." He intertwined his spindly fingers. "Mr. Abramov isn't having visitors today. I don't know how you got in."

"I have a key." Malachi patted the pocket of his khaki shorts the clicked the television on.

The thin man in white scurried over to the television and clicked it off before the sound could roar in the room, "You shouldn't have a key. Visitors should call first. This is a house not a hotel with a swinging door." He glumly smiled with rueful eyes.

"Visitors?" Malachi scoffed as he sat up straight. "I'm not a visitor. I'm Malachi."

The thin man's face was unchanged by the utterance of his name.

Malachi nervously laughed, "I've been in this house more times than I can count but..." He pointed the remote at the man. "I've never seen you before. Are you new? Is that why you're doing the visitor nonsense."

"I don't know what you mean my visitor nonsense" He airquoted. "But follow the rules and if you must know I am new the last overseer had an unlucky accident."

Malachi chuckled. "Is that different from a lucky accident?"

The thin man's Adam's apple slowly dropped as he swallowed, intricately studying Malachi. "You should go."

An uptick in mechanical dings called Malachi's sight to the heart monitor, "Ninety-nine." He hopped out of the chair, "Something wrong." He went to the side of the bed. Gavin still appeared the same, motionless as a rock. "Get the doctor!"

"He doesn't need the doctor," The thin man hurried over to the bed and latched his hand on Malachi's shoulder, "Your presence is disturbing him. Go!"

Malachi jerked his shoulder away from the man, "I come here every day...well almost every day." He'd missed a few weeks since Fiona died and Faith went missing. "Me being here never had this impact on him. Maybe it's you because he was doing dandy before you strolled in here.."

"I'm not the issue." The thin man darted his eyes to the monitor, the boy's heart rate still beating high. "But why don't we both leave and see what happens."

Malachi huffed, "After you." He gestured to the door and the Thin man turned on his slick heels and strutted to the door. He snatched his hard glare off of the thin man's back and lowered it to a sleeping Gavin, "I'll see you later, dude."  


Should Malachi be worried about the new visiting hours?

Should he follow the 'Thin Man'?


Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The Homecoming: Book Three of The Psychopath Maker SeriesWhere stories live. Discover now