He had to let go of Aaron at the stairs because he couldn't haul Aaron up behind him and hope for him to be quiet. He half-expected Aaron to leave again now that he was released, but he'd piqued Aaron's curiosity with his urgency. Neil went up the carpeted steps as quietly as he could. Aaron was near silent behind him. Neil guessed he'd spent enough time in this house to know which stairs creaked under a man's body weight.

Every door on the second floor was open except one, and Neil heard the distant thump of something hitting the wall. He tried the knob, found it locked, and darted to the next door down to see what kind of wood the doors were made of. It was plywood-overlaid fiberboard with a hollow interior, easy enough to kick through.

Aaron had a hand up to pound on the door, so Neil shoved his racquet at Aaron. Aaron grabbed hold of it instinctively. Neil took a half-second to brace himself and drove the heel of his foot into the door as close to the knob as he could. Wood splintered around his shoe and his heel almost got caught on the jagged edges when he yanked it free.

"Jesus fuck—" Aaron started, startled, but Neil gave the door another savage kick.

This time the door popped open. Neil stumbled inside. He needed two steps to get his balance back and he looked up at the fight they'd burst in on.

Drake said something. Neil didn't know what. He'd remember the words later, the angry demand to know what they were doing barging in like this. Right now Drake's voice was just a roar in Neil's ears, or maybe that sound was Neil's world crashing down around him. He didn't know.

He only had a second to take it in, but that second burned the awful details into him in a way he'd never forget. There was blood on Drake's face in jagged lines, injuries wrought by desperate fingernails. The heavy length of his body, tattooed and muscular, kept Andrew pinned to the mattress with its weight alone. An arm across the back of Andrew's neck forced his face ear-deep in a blood-splattered pillow. Drake's other hand was up at the headboard, squeezed so tight around Andrew's wrists Andrew's fingers were ghostly white and bloodless. Neil saw too much blood and too much skin. He knew what he was seeing, knew what this meant, but couldn't believe it yet. That didn't stop him from leaping at Drake.

Aaron was faster.