“We don’t want to leave any traces,” he said and handed him a pair of gloves before donning his own.
Pyro roared in helpless fury.
Clover stood at the edge of the room, by a well-used sofa. “Is it possible he knew we were coming?”
Drake pulled up Hake’s sleeves, revealing bruises on the man’s arms as if they were on a fucking CSI episode. “I think someone forced him to do this. The body’s still warm. Couldn’t have been more than a couple of hours.”
“Well, fuck,” Tank said through gritted teeth. He took a deep inhale. “Let’s check everything. Knock on the floors and furniture to see if he doesn’t have anything hidden in secret compartments. Let’s decide on who searches where.”
Pyro spun around to face him, hands already balling into fists. “That’s your genius idea? To turn everything upside down? I’m pretty sure whoever disposed of him also took care of other evidence, including the guy who told Drake about Hake.”
Tank met his gaze, but he didn’t flinch. “And what choice do we have, genius? This is the one lead we’ve got, so if there’s even the smallest chance whoever did this overlooked something, we’ve got to take it.”
Pyro heaved with unresolved fury. “This is bullshit! I’m the only one who really cares about finding Boar! You’re just doing all this out of obligation.”
Clover’s features twisted with pain. “Seriously? Pyro, come on…”
But Pyro wouldn’t have any of that shit. “Yeah, we’re all in this together, team mates, yadda, yadda, but when it comes down to it, you’re not the ones who got their hearts ripped out of their chests without anesthetic!”
Tank’s jaw clenched so hard it appeared even more square than usual. “That’s why you drink and snort coke while Drake goes off to find us leads?”
“Oh, fuck you! You don’t know everything I do!”
Drake wouldn’t even look at Pyro. They all knew Boar’s disappearance was Drake’s fault, but Tank still chose to go all self-righteous on Pyro.
“Oh? What do you do, Pyro? Enlighten us all?”
Pyro’s head cracked open from the pressure, but for the longest moment he didn’t know how to answer. He did search for Boar. He checked all the leads they found. He was the first to go when it was needed.
“I’ll tell you what I didn’t do. I didn’t fucking use my friend as a tool to execute personal revenge!” He reached Drake within two paces and pushed him so hard he almost hit the corpse still dangling from the ceiling. “So Apollo sold you a long time ago. Boo-fucking-hoo. Get. Over. Yourself.”
A vein bulged on Drake’s forehead, and he lashed out at Pyro, baring his teeth like a rabid dog. “I was just a kid, you motherfucker! You’ve got no idea what you’re talking about!”
Pyro only knew vaguely that Drake had been sold as a kid to some fucker who’d trained him to be a personal bodyguard, which had most likely involved lots of pain, but he’d survived and come out stronger, while Boar was lost and his future uncertain.
Before Drake could have reached Pyro, Tank stepped between them like a concrete wall.
“We’re all desperate to find Boar,” Tank said. “And we all agree Apollo needs to die for what he did to Drake. And Clover. You look like you need a breather, Pyro. How about you go search the kitchen?”
The dismissal was like a red cloak waved in front of a bull. “I’m not your fucking child, so don’t tell me what to do. Why are you taking his side? Even his parents didn’t care enough to make sure he didn’t disappear!”
Clover grabbed Pyro’s arm, but he shook it off and stormed past Drake, hitting him with the shoulder on the way. This time, nobody said anything, giving him no excuse to turn their faces into mush. He burst into a dark room, which was an average-looking, neat bedroom with some plants by the window. Not bothering to shut the door behind him, Pyro reached a small desk and put his hands on either side of a closed laptop, struggling to find his breath.
A clock mercilessly ticked on the wall, counting seconds of Boar’s captivity. Even if Boar was a tough guy in his own right, for Pyro, he was still the sweetie pie who took care of him, who fell in love all too fast, and baked his own bread. He was the last person to deserve being taken. What if Pyro never got to speak to him again?
“Pyro?” Clover must have slipped into the room when Pyro was too busy listening to the thudding in his own head.
“Goddamnit.” Pyro stared at the empty wall before turning slowly to face Clover and his annoyingly worried face. There was no time for such things right now. “What?”
“You do know, at the bottom of your heart, that we’re all trying to find him.” Clover reached for Pyro’s hand, but what Pyro needed to numb his pain was drugs and booze, not gentle fingers.