Leon

My back and shoulders were one big ache as I set the last feed bale onto the pile. They would have to be distributed tomorrow to the animals, but for now, at least they were stored safely. That wouldn't stop all the critters finding them, but that was a constantly fought war on the ranch.

I welcomed the ache, though, rolling my shoulders in a vague attempt to ease it. One of the perks of being a mentor was that you weren't required to do nearly as much physical labor. More often than not, you were busy trying to keep an eye on your mentees and looking for trouble from other Tier Ones you were managing for the day. Which was great on your back, but sometimes, there was something wonderful about pushing your body to get things done.

My thoughts were interrupted, not by sound or movement, but by the sense of being watched. Arching a brow, I turned to find the source of the unnerving feeling and stopped at a familiar sight perched atop the pyramid of bales.

"Well, hey there, Heathen," I said, reaching a hand out toward the calico perched at the edge of a bale. Her yellow eyes caught the sunlight, flashing as she bent her head to sniff me carefully. It was an old game because everyone who worked the farm knew which cats you could pet and which you avoided, and Heathen was a lover.

"That's what I thought," I said with a snort when she stretched to walk down the bales and headbutt my palm with all the grace of a drunken ox. I curled my fingers, scratching along her cheek and the side of her neck, which were weak points for her. "You always try to act haughty like your brother, but you're not nearly as fancy, are you, baby girl?"

I was on the fence about how much animals understood, but she sure as hell started purring up a storm after I finished talking. Sometimes, I wondered if whoever was responsible for naming the animals around here missed the mark. They could have gone with Chainsaw or Motor for her, which would have been far more accurate. Then again, considering her hunting habits, Heathen fit just fine.

"Leon?" a gruff voice barked from outside the storage shed.

"We're in here," I called without thinking.

A scowling face poked into the shed. "I thought you were in here screwing around."

"Nice to know that's where your brain went first, Max," I said with a scoff. "Something you want to confess?"

His scowl deepened. "Shut the hell up. Everyone knows you and Reed?—"

"Yeah, yeah, everyone is so funny. I'm so glad to see everyone picking up the joke like a bunch of comedians. I'd blame Riley's effect on you, but he doesn't seem the type to make bad jokes," I said, hoisting Heathen up so she could curl her large body into the crook of my arm.

"Leave Riley out of this," he told me with uncharacteristic sharpness. Gruff, sure, but almost mean?

"How's he doing?" I asked. I'd tried to stay updated, but Max had made it clear Riley was fine and didn't need my interference. It had sucked, but at the same time, I realized I was asking primarily out of guilt rather than any genuine concern. Still, it had been a few weeks since Reno had practically knocked his head off without warning, so maybe it was a safe time to ask.

"How do you think he's doing?" Max asked, crossing his arms and looking irritated. "As perky as ever and never shuts up."

"Somehow, I feel you aren't as bothered by that as you let on," I said as I walked toward the doorway with the cat still in my arms.

"What? You're an expert on me now?" he asked gruffly.

I stepped out into the sun"s baking heat and turned to look at him curiously. "You seem…grumpy today."

"Ask anyone here. I'm always grumpy."

I laughed a little. "Yeah, but there's normal people grumpy, and then there's Max grumpy. Two very different measures."

"I don't want to know."

"I think you already do."

"Ugh."

"If it makes you feel better, there's normal people happy, and then there's Riley happy."

"No, that doesn't make me feel better, thanks."

"You're not thankful at all?"

"No."

"Alright, well, why don't you tell me why you came looking for me? Since it's probably the same thing that has you grumpier than usual."

"I'm going to get so sick of that word," he muttered before glancing at one of the animal pens. I could see Elliot and Reno cleaning them out, sweat soaking their shirts as Elliot chatted, and Reno glowered at everything he laid eyes on. "There a reason you put them with me?"

I blinked. "What makes you think I had anything to do with it?"

He gave me a skeptical look. "You can say what you want, but don't treat me like an idiot. We both know mentors have a hand in placing their mentees."

Ugh, I couldn't argue with that. He might have only been assigned as a mentor for one person for whatever reason, but he'd gone through the program before returning to be a full-time employee. He knew how the processes worked in the program, it wouldn't exactly be easy to keep things from him.

"Fine," I said with a sigh. "Mona asked for my input. Actually, she uh…insisted on it."

"Insisted?"

"You know damn well what I mean, Max. Everyone's heard you bitch about her more than once."

One of his rare smiles flashed over his face. "She's a pain in the ass. I'm just one of the only ones who'll say it aloud."

"The only one crazy enough," I said. "I think…well, she asked, and I said you."

"I'm not even an official mentor," he said with a huff. "I shouldn't even be on the roster for watching over anyone except my assigned idiot."

Again, there was that niggling sense of something not quite working between his words and, well, I guess, my feelings. Max didn't have the same level of annoyance when talking about someone like Elliot. There was something affectionate in his voice along with the irritation. Which only confirmed what I'd told Reed a few weeks ago, Max was bonding with Riley against all sense and logic.

"Well, when I asked about you, she didn't turn it down, just scribbled in your name," I told him, shrugging only one shoulder so as not to disturb Heathen.

"That woman enjoys screwing with me, and you thought she would turn you down?"

"Look, Max, I don't know if she has a vendetta against you or what, but that's not why I offered up your name. Whatever is going on is between you two. I'm sure as hell not getting involved," I said, glancing at Reno and Elliot. "I've got my hands full enough."

"Then why choose me?" he asked with a scowl.

I sensed this was less of the demand he made it sound like and more genuine confusion on his part. Honestly, I didn't think Mona had it out for him, and I actually suspected she liked him. The problem was, I suspected she liked me as well, and I had already seen what she was willing to do to someone she liked, so he was just going to have to accept it.

"Well, if I had to pick one of the current mentors for them to work under for the first time since I put them together, it was you."

"Still not answering my question."

"Because you're the closest in temperament to Reno compared to the other mentors. Unlike some of them, you won't treat him like he's trouble unless he creates trouble, and you won't try to nudge your way into his life and treat him all nice, like, say, Dane would. He doesn't want any of those things."

"And Elliot?"

"Well, I mean. When I sat them down, I made it known they would be spending their time together. Working, sleeping, and eating together, so it wasn't like I could send Elliot somewhere else. Plus, Elliot likes you, and you're a safer target to annoy."

"Safer?"

"Elliot's going to have a lot of pent-up social energy to burn. And if he's working with Reno and Riley, he'll need to get some of it out. Some of that would be by annoying you. And you'll take it because despite finding him annoying, you're not going to treat him like shit…to try and fail, to intimidate him. Plus, you've got Riley with you, who Elliot likes a lot?—"

"A little too much," Max muttered.

Okay, that was weird, but I wasn't going to focus on it. "And Reno…I think some part of him likes Riley too. And I think he needs to be exposed to the guy he barely knew yet sucker punched. As far as things go, you were the best option."

His brow raised. "And you told that to Mona?"

"No," I said with a snort. "I wouldn't have been able to anyway."

"Why?" he asked, frowning.

"Because Leon's brain operates on a very special level that's hard to understand," a new voice piped up, familiar and warm, making my chest flutter.

Max glanced over and sighed. "Oh, hello, Reed. Come to check on your boyfriend?"

I felt my face warm. "You know, Max. I'm really glad you're enjoying Reno and Elliot's company. Maybe I should see if Mona is willing to give them to you more often since it seems to be working out great."

"Don't you fucking dare!" Max said with a horror in his voice that pleased me.

Reed laughed, setting a large leather bag onto a dried, discarded hay bale outside the shed. "I think Leon is trying to tell you that you were being a dick, Max. Maybe stop making jokes about us."

"Especially when all I did was answer your question," I said with a frown.

Max opened his mouth, and for a moment, I thought he was going to stalk off with a glower, which would have fit his norm. Instead, he glanced over his shoulder to where Reno and Elliot were, but Riley came into view, grinning at something Elliot said. He growled in his throat. "Alright, fine, I was being a dick for no reason."

I opened my mouth until I caught a knowing look from Reed and decided against pointing out that, yeah, he was being a dick for no reason. Instead, I pivoted to a grimace. "Well, I can promise I wasn't picking you to single you out. And I did it because I thought you were the best option."

"Ugh," he said, sounding disgusted, though I didn't know with what. "Fine."

"I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm also not," I said with a wince.

"Yeah, well, even if you were, you wouldn't be nearly as sorry as I am," he said with a roll of his eyes. "I'm not going to be held responsible if I leave Elliot tied and gagged to a tree somewhere."

"Careful," Reed said, "Elliot might enjoy that."

"Ugh," his disgust was more obvious this time as he walked off, then stopped. "You…you aren't expecting me to sit down and talk to Reno, are you?"

"No! God no. I don't think Reno wants to talk to anyone. At least not right now. I think the best thing we can do is let them be themselves and hope for the best," I said with a shrug. "Whatever that means."

"I love how you sound like you don't know what that means."

Reed chuckled. "He does, but he doesn't."

"I've had enough puzzles today, thanks," Max said, walking off and looking just as irritated as he had when he'd shown up.

"Thanks for mediating, Mom," I said once Max was out of earshot.

Reed winked at me. "Well, you know how it goes."

"Do I?"

"Yeah, Max can test anyone's patience when he gets cranky. And you've just started settling down from placing Reno and Elliot together. So you're a little more touchy than usual."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, and when you're worried about something important, that counts as touchy. And you're that kind of touchy, you might be willing to take someone's head off without feeling bad…until you calmed down, and then you'd feel like shit."

"Excuse me?"

"And then you'll mope around for days because you let your temper get the better of you instead of taking the high road like you're always telling yourself to do whenever you're in a bad mood. But instead of learning anything from it or showing yourself the same patience and understanding you'd show others, you'll kick yourself until you're a miserable mess that will swing between spreading it around intentionally half the time and unintentionally the rest."

I stared at him as he finally finished his little speech, summarizing something deeply personal about me in the manner of someone explaining how the new washing machine worked. I was dressed completely, all the way down to thick boots covered in dust, and I still managed to feel oddly naked. My only comfort, small as it was, was that we were out of earshot of anyone else hearing this level of…familiarity.

"Whoever said being known by other people was the greatest gift was a goddamn liar," I said, turning my face away before he saw something else in my expression. "That shit sucks."

My stomach flipped when Reed chuckled, showing a flash of teeth as he leaned against the old hay bales. He had never been a big guy, puberty had left him with an average build that stayed that way, except for his forearms, which were tightly corded with well-defined muscle that practically danced under his skin, like they did now as he crossed his arms.

"I might understand some things about you, but others? Not so much," he said with a shake of his head.

"Like what?"

"Like how someone who cares so much about people, really wants to help them, and has a good sense for them, is so insistent on hiding himself from them."

"Well, I guess I can take comfort in the fact that I'm still a mystery to you," I muttered, not caring how grumpy I sounded. One of the advantages of knowing someone since you were kids was that you were pretty okay with showing them parts of yourself you kept locked away from public view. Despite what he insisted, I didn't keep much from him, even if I tried to keep some things quiet.

Well, except for the fact that I still didn't know how to feel about him. Or that if he didn't uncross his arms and get that smirk off his face, I would be tempted to do things I shouldn't be doing in public. Then again, I'd always struggled with self-control when it came to him, which had always confused and exasperated me.

* * *

It happened so fast. An impulse that flared inside, growing in power that dwarfed what my self-control could manage. And then it happened before I could question it.

Honestly, it was his fault. He had been standing there, covered in a fine layer of sweat that made his face glisten in the sun. Dirt was smeared over his hands and arms, a line on the bottom of his chin when a particularly stubborn weed refused to be pulled without a fight. When it came out, the roots flung back and smacked him in the chin, making me laugh.

Reed wasn't one to take that sort of thing lying down, though, which was how I ended up with the same dirt-caked weed thrown at me, where it exploded into fine clods of dirt after hitting my forehead. I was covered in speckles of dirt, and he had stood there…laughing. His eyes lit up as he looked at me, smug and happy as he laughed at my sour, shocked expression.

People said teenage boys did stupid stuff all the time, but I didn't have time. I had siblings to look after and a rundown house needing repairs, but I could barely manage to keep it from falling apart. I had two jobs to keep up with everything, which didn't even cover trying to keep up with classes.

So no, I wasn't prone to doing stupid stuff…most of the time. But from the moment, over three years ago, when I saw him pull himself out of his pool to greet me at the gate, I'd known there was a lot more inside me than just friendship toward him. The past three years had been an off-and-on series of torments whenever I caught him grinning that wide grin of his, saw the way his eyes lit up when he was interested in something, and a slip of skin from his stomach when he stretched was enough to make me feel I was going to go feral.

And as he'd stood there, laughing at me, something inside me finally buckled and gave way. Before I could catch myself, like I had done every other time, I stepped into his space and cut off his laughter with the only tool I had at my disposal…a kiss.

It was quick, nervous, and not all that good, but it happened. Even as part of me screamed in panic at the stupid thing I'd just done, I didn't pull away immediately. I lingered, feeling the harsh breath of surprise from his mouth, the softness of his lips, and the faint salty taste of his sweat. Only after noting every little thing, like a man on death row savoring his final meal, did I finally pull away and prepare myself for the damage I had wrought.

I took the smallest grain of comfort when I saw his expression. It was wide-eyed and slack-jawed, but there was no outrage or anger. Even that wasn't enough to give me the courage to speak, and I could only step back, my shoulders sagging in shame. After a painful set of heartbeats, his mouth finally closed, and he slowly tilted his head to one side.

Curious, he was curious, not angry. I could still see surprise in the lift of his brow but no anger.

"Sorry," I muttered finally, unable to bear the silence and the sheer uncertainty of what would happen next. Even if my speaking broke the spell and brought doom upon me and our friendship, it was better than lingering in the hell of not knowing.

"Are you?" he asked, blinking rapidly.

"I…shouldn't have done that," I said, resisting the urge to kick at the ground like a little kid caught with his hand in the candy bowl. "It wasn't…right."

"According to my parents, no," he said and surprised me with a rich chuckle. "They'd probably have a few choice words about that."

Well, that I already knew. His parents were…uncomfortable with the talk about rights and privileges not afforded to gay people in the news. They weren't fundamentalist crazy religious people, but they definitely had their beliefs, and they were quick to point out that some things shouldn't be done.

Reed had never seemed bothered by their attitudes but had never recited them. From the moment I realized that not only was I gay, but I was crushing on my best friend, I had been too scared to ask how he felt about it. I'd never seen him date anyone or even show interest, so I didn't know where his sexuality fell on the spectrum. Again, I had been too scared to bring it up…but apparently not too scared to kiss him suddenly, it seemed.

"Are you…going to tell them about this?" I asked, wincing at the thought. They had always been odd with me, and I had the distinct feeling they didn't like having me around. I'd told Reed once, and he shrugged as if it didn't matter to him, but he never said anything outright.

It wasn't like I was a bad kid or a troublemaker. I didn't have the free time to get into trouble. But I think, much like their views on gay and lesbian people, they just thought some things shouldn't happen. And one of those things was having me around.

They weren't rich, the Martins, but they were still doing well for themselves, and they decorated their lives with shows of wealth, genteelness, and a certain level of refinement. Whereas I was a scrawny teenager who had to buzz his own hair because he couldn't afford a haircut, and wore worn clothes I bought secondhand. Didn't help that I came from one of the worst neighborhoods in Austin. I was essentially the opposite of everything they valued and they probably regretted that Reed and I had ever met. Or maybe I was just paranoid, all too aware of how shabby, poor, and classless I was in comparison.

Reed snorted. "Why the hell would I do that? They don't need to know everything that happens."

"Right," I said, again trying not to shuffle my feet nervously.

"You know, this is probably the first time I've ever seen you look nervous," he said with a low chuckle. "I didn't even know you could show nervousness."

"I get nervous."

"Well, yeah, but you always hide it really well."

"Yeah, well," I muttered, looking away. "Kind of hard not to be when I do something stupid like that."

"Was it stupid because you regret it or think you shouldn't have?"

"I-I don't know."

"That kinda feels like something you should know, if you wanna do it or not," he said, tilting his head again.

If he was trying to irritate me, he was doing a good job, and I glared at him. "Look, I just did it, and I'm sorry, alright? It won't happen again."

"What if I want it to happen again?"

If I had been a machine, every cog, wheel, and belt would have ground to a smoking halt. My body went rigid as I was unable to do more than stare with wide eyes.

I opened my mouth, a clicking sound coming out as I unclenched my throat and croaked out a thin, "What?"

"I mean," he said with that smile that always came so easily to him and a casual shrug. "I would be lying if I said I hadn't been thinking about it for a while now."

"When?" I managed to get out, heart beginning to thump in earnest.

"I mean, pretty much every day."

"No, like, when did it?—"

"Start?"

"Yeah."

"Oh. Well, remember when you showed up for my birthday?"

His birthday was still a month away, so he had to mean last year. "Oh. Yeah, after my shift."

"Yeah, after you'd worked almost thirty hours at two jobs you aren't supposed to have. On top of all the other shit you do, like making sure your brothers are eating, doing their homework, showering, and making sure you guys don't lose power or your roof. On top of doing school shit."

It was weird, having someone lay all that out in front of me, and I couldn't help the uncomfortable shuffling of my feet. "Yeah, I'm familiar."

A strange expression passed over his face, pulling at my chest. "Sixteen, and you just?—"

I knew where he was going with this, and I didn't want to hear it, not from him. How many times had I seen that same mixture of sadness and frustration on a teacher's face, on a good-natured neighbor's face? Too many times to count, and far too many for me to tolerate anymore. I knew people meant well, and I'd probably be just as concerned if I were in their shoes, but that didn't change reality or the necessity of what I did.

Ray and Ian weren't old enough to take care of things around the house. I mean, I was doing a lot more at ten than Ray had ever done, and I'd been earning money and started to run the house at twelve, unlike Ian, but that wasn't their fault. If doing all this kept them under a roof with power, food, and the clothes I could scrape together, then so be it. They didn't need to deal with working all the time, being responsible for themselves and others at an age no kid should have to be that responsible, and they shouldn't have to wrangle our useless parents into making sure there was at least some money left over from government checks for the household.

"Don't," I told him, looking away again. It was just one of those things we didn't talk about. He wanted to, I knew that, but he also respected how much I didn't want to talk about it.

He sighed, rolling his eyes toward the sky. "Yeah, sure. Anyway. You'd put in God knows how many hours between work, school, and running your damn house, you were exhausted. You should have just gone home, but no, you rolled up here at eleven instead of going to bed, with fried chicken and a brownie you pocketed from work as a gift."

I'd never told him I'd paid for the meal because he would have lost his mind that I'd spent the money on him. It was messed up that he was more willing to accept a stolen gift than a bought one, but that's how it was. "It was your birthday, man. I had to do something."

"This coming from the guy who refuses to tell people his birthday."

"I don't know why I bother. You tell them for me."

"Yeah, I don't know why you bother," he said with a laugh. "But you do anyway. Just something else I still need to figure out about you."

Usually, I didn't like it when people tried to figure me out. The less prying into my business, the better, as far as I was concerned. But this was Reed, who I'd known since I was a little kid and was easily the one person who could claim to know the most about me. Hell, sometimes I wondered if he might not know more about me than I did about myself.

"I don't know what there is to figure out about me," I said with a shrug. "Nothing all that special hidden away in there."

He sighed heavily, shoving his hands into the pockets of his shorts and shaking his head. "My point was, you didn't have to do any of that. I wouldn't have cared if you waited until the next day to say something about my birthday. But no, you rode the bus and walked here to drop that stuff off."

"And then fell asleep on your back deck," I said with a little laugh at the sudden surge of memory. "I was trying so hard to stay awake, and then I passed out."

"Yeah. Passed out on the deck lounger. So there you were, where you really shouldn't have been in the first place, smelling of grease and chicken, snoring away on my back deck."

"Wow, what a memorable image. A great image."

"It was. Because it showed me that even with too much on your plate, you still did something for me. And I remember sitting there, nibbling on that brownie and watching you snore while still managing to hold onto a chicken leg, and I just?—"

I stared at him. "You what?"

His hands came out of his pockets, and he stepped closer, holding my hip and dragging me toward him. If my kiss had been hurried and desperate, his was patient and slow. What I felt the first time had been a flicker, a spark in the dark compared to the fire that quickly grew into an inferno when he kissed me. What I felt before had been the faintest tingle compared to the electric storm that filled me as his fingers squeezed my hip and his lips pressed tighter to mine.

I had always known there would be no chance for me when it came to him, but that just cemented it in my mind. There was no resistance, no chance, and I was immediately helpless in the face of his sweet kiss.

"So," he said, drawing away. "I ask again, do you really regret it?"

"No," I said, licking my lips nervously and feeling a pang at their dryness. That definitely could not have been a good couple of kisses for him. "Definitely don't now."

He chuckled as he stepped back, his fingers finding my forearm and trailing down so they could wrap around my wrist. "Glad to hear it."

"So, uh, what now?"

"You didn't think this through, did you?"

"Ugh."

"You never do when one of those rare moods strikes you," he said with a small smile.

"Hey!" I protested because that was my only real counterargument in the face of the truth.

"Let's," he said, fingers sliding down to lace with mine, "figure it out as we go, alright? You've got enough on your plate without having to figure something like this out all at once."

Personally, I could have agreed to the whole package if that's what he was interested in. As far as I was concerned, he could have whatever the hell he wanted from me at that exact moment. I didn't have a frame of reference for relationships or love, at least in my everyday life. But this was pretty close to what all those love songs were constantly going on about, so maybe it was close.

Whatever it was, I knew damn well there was nothing I could do but smile, squeeze his hand in return, and say, "Yeah, sure. We can do that."

* * *

There weremany years since that first kiss and many other kisses, but how irritating was it that he still managed to affect me? Even now, I was helpless in the face of his simple act of just standing there, making himself comfortable. The bastard had always been so confident in a natural way rather than acted. Yet there wasn't a single trace of arrogance in him, just the feeling that no matter what, he was the one you could come to when things got dire.

"What?" he asked, brow coming up and watching me carefully.

"Just…a long day and the heat," I said, glancing at the bag he'd set down earlier. "What are you doing anyway?"

"I'm going around checking on everyone. Already had a couple of instances of heat stroke and several more of heat exhaustion," he said, rolling his eyes. "I don't know what it is about this place, but nobody seems to learn…or listen."

"Anything serious?" I asked.

"No, just your standard bullheaded guys not paying attention to what their bodies are telling them," he said with a sigh and a shake of his head. "The Strokers are in the clinic where they're going to rest out the day. The Exhausters will get plenty of water and a few hours break until I give them the pass to return to work."

"And I'm sure you're showing the right bedside manner," I said, knowing full well what a hard ass he could be when he was pushed. Yes, he was a professional and knew his stuff, but he was also not someone you wanted to piss off. ‘Fear the healer,' I had been told once, and honestly, I was never too keen on finding out why that was a phrase in the first place.

He snorted, shaking his head. "You know how these guys are. Too many of them take being nice as a weakness."

"That's not true," I said with a frown. "Most of them just need someone to treat them like a person. That's what any of us really want."

"Even Reno?"

I winced. "He's…a special case. I don't know what kind of special, but special all the same."

"Probably a good thing Elliot isn't around to hear you say that. I'm sure he'd have a witty remark or two."

"He'd think it was witty anyway."

Reed chuckled, staring out over the pens. "Look, I know these guys want to be treated like people, okay? And I do that every single day, but that's the same thing as treating them nicely or kindly all the time. Most respond well if you treat them like tough badasses who can only communicate in bad jokes, insults, and a complete lack of fear."

I wasn't enthused about agreeing, but I couldn't deny it either. Sadly, most guys who ended up here were doomed to a similar fate long ago. Happy childhoods and healthy attitudes toward life weren't in good supply when it came to felons, even if they were aspiring to improve their lot in life.

Once again, it made me think of Elliot and Reno and wonder what their stories were. Despite how much of a bulwark Reno threw up in people's faces, he was the easier of the two to read. No one just happened to have that kind of rage and bitterness toward everything. That was the sort of thing you developed over time, with life and all its cruelties and unfairness honing it like a blade. Elliot, though, was an odd one. Most of the time, he seemed out of place with so many of the guys here, using humor and evasive tactics to avoid going near his more sensitive parts. Yet I sensed a kind of sadness in him, a loneliness so deeply rooted I wasn't sure if he had ever had someone truly on his side.

Even Reed, despite his ‘apparent' advantages in life, hadn't been dealt the best cards. He came from a seemingly good family, growing up in a nice part of town with a nice house and never needing anything regarding basics or extras. He'd always had new clothes, never off-brand, always had the latest game systems and games, and he'd been given a car for his sixteenth birthday. His life looked perfect as far as other people were concerned.

No money could make up for the lack of parents, though. Oh sure, his parents were technically present in that they existed and influenced his life. They paid for the violin he'd played off and on and ensured he always got to his practices, but they never went to any of his performances. They kept a light finger on his studies but never attended conferences. They made sure he went to church, but they never bothered even to know if he believed like they did or was going through the motions because he was supposed to.

You would have never known it when you saw him, but Reed was one of the loneliest kids I had ever met. Even I had my siblings and others who understood the life I had to live in my apartment building and block. Reed had always been…by himself. It wasn't until I was about ten that I learned how to use the bus to visit him because he sure as hell wasn't coming to me. Before that, it had always been him and whatever parent was home.

"You are really in your head today," he noted, looking me over carefully. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine," I told him with a weary sigh, knowing he wouldn't believe me. "Just a lot going on, is all."

"This thing with Reno and Elliot getting to you that bad?" he asked, brow furrowing. "I know it was bugging you before, but I was sure you would have found your feet and moved past it."

I didn't want to have the conversation, but if there was anyone I could have it with, it was Reed. "I just worry about them. Not a whole lot has changed. Except that Elliot looks more miserable than ever, and Reno still treats everything like they personally offend him."

"You do realize you can't fix everyone, right?"

"Yes, Reed, I'm aware. Thank you for that."

"Snippy," he said with a smile that said he didn't mind in the slightest. "Well, it's only been a couple of weeks, right?"

"Yeah, I hoped something would have changed. Even a little. Just a sign, you know?"

"Hey, you have to learn to take the wins where you can get them. As far as I've seen, Elliot isn't much different than he used to be, except for that first night. And they've already beaten the pool."

"The pool? There's a fucking betting pool, isn't there?"

"Yeppers and most of the bets have already been lost. There's a lot of commissary money due to be shifted around."

I rubbed my face. "How is it that the guy locked away in the medical building is the one who gets most of the gossip? Isn't that, like, what the dining hall should be for?"

He snorted. "You're thinking high school and office jobs. Trust me. People will gossip when being checked over, given shots, or whatever, especially if there's pain meds involved. And the frequent fliers, the ones who always have to come in for meds? They're the worst."

"Great. Just great."

I should have known. Even if I wasn't one to get involved with gossip, I knew these guys did it…a lot. I didn't know if it was a felon thing, a ranch thing, or something else I couldn't figure out, but these guys were working overtime to disprove the theory that it was old women and teenage girls who were the gossips.

I narrowed my eyes. "And who's heading this betting pool?"

"Not me," he said, and I believed him.

"And what did you bet on?"

"Aw, would I do that?"

"Yes, you absolutely the fuck would."

He grinned. "You're right. I would, and I totally did."

Sometimes, it was hard to forget he was once a professional. I could only glare at him. "Seriously?"

"Hey, I saw an opportunity and went for it."

"Isn't that against some professional ethics or something?"

"If I was betting on whether someone would survive or if I was in charge of their care, sure. But betting on whether or not they'll kill each other? That's within professional ethics."

"But not personal."

"That's morals. And I'm pretty sure they wouldn't ever kill each other. A bit of maiming? Maybe."

"Great. So, how much have you lost?"

He smirked, picking up his bag. "Nothing. I'm one of the few people who bet they would manage to not only not kill each other but become actual friends and make it to the next tier. The odds were…not great, but hey, why not?"

"Wait," I said, turning to track him as he walked away. "Seriously? You believe in them that much?"

He opened the gate and stepped through with a laugh. "Absolutely not. I mean, come on. Elliot is a good guy, and I really think he's a sweetheart when he learns to slow down, but he will try most people's nerves before he gets there. And Reno is one of the angriest people I've ever seen come into this program, probably the top spot if we're honest. All logic points toward the two of them eventually coming to blows and the whole thing being ruined."

"Okay, Mr. Logic," I scowled. "Then why the fuck did you bet on them?"

"I didn't," he said, closing the gate behind him and flashing me a smile. "I bet on your gut feeling, and no matter what happens, Leon, I will always bet on you."

It seemed he knew not only how to have a hold on me after all these years, but apparently, he was still good at leaving me speechless as he walked away, humming to himself merrily.