Reed

I would forever envy people who lived in parts of the country where the approach of October meant something impressive or meaningful, where you could count on the weather becoming almost comfortable and enjoyable. You could watch trees change colors, accompanying cider and hot drinks to fight the chill.

If someone tried to hand me a hot drink right now, I'd have no choice but to take that as an attempt on my life and react accordingly. The sun might not be as overbearing as a couple of months ago, but that didn't stop it from being a burning circle of absolute hell as it tried to bake everything under its unrelenting gaze.

"I think I'm having a stroke," I said, leaning back to take a deep breath. "I'm beginning to think like a mid-nineteenth-century novel."

"Is that so?" Leon asked from beside me, looking amused.

Which was probably easy for him, the absolute bastard. I had never considered myself weak, but damn, I'd been spoiled working in the clinic. After the first couple of weeks with Leon working alongside me, the schedule flipped around. We were still working alongside each other a handful of days a week, but now I was dealing with his job instead of the other way around.

That meant helping with the groundwork for expanding parts of the ranch. The ranch was several acres, but only about half was actually used. The rest was just hard, sunbaked earth that nature was allowed to keep. Every now and then, though, the ranch was expanded, which meant several hands on deck to help.

That boiled down to a whole lot of digging and building foundations. I had no idea what the expansion was for, considering we still had room in the barns for animals, plenty of storage, and unused cabins. I wasn't going to argue, but that didn't mean I had to enjoy working my ass off in the blazing sun.

"Maybe early twentieth century, I don't know. I think my brain is baked," I said, wiping my brow and eyeing the nearby tent. One of many brought out for the work crew. There, you could get shade from the sun and water from the coolers filled with ice. "Hey, uh, there goes Elliot again."

Leon spun around, his smirk disappearing and his lighthearted tone replaced by a firmer one. "Elliot! Don't even think about it!"

"I think he already thought about it," I muttered with a chuckle as Elliot froze, his hand reaching toward the small spigot at the base of one of the coolers. He had tried to dump the melted ice on other people and himself.

"C'mon! I'll be okay. It's for me!" Elliot protested.

"No, it's not," came a grumpy call from the other side of a half-built wall. I didn't need to see the shock of red hair and the scowl to know it was Reno.

"Yes, it is!" Elliot complained. "I'm roasting!"

"We're all roasting," Leon called.

"I just want to drink it," he whined. "It's colder than the bottles."

"You try drinking that in one go," I said, eyeing the size of the cup in his hand, "and you're going to put yourself in shock."

"Seriously?" he asked in bewilderment.

"I have no reason to lie," I informed him. "Almost freezing water dumped into an overheated body is a bad idea. Sip it."

Leon jammed a thumb over his shoulder. "You heard the man. You can drink it if you want, but if you start guzzling, you're in the shit. If we have to drag you back because you decided to shock your system, I will put you on special duty."

"What, uh, what does special duty involve?" Elliot asked, and I rolled my eyes, knowing he wasn't actually curious. He was gauging whether or not risking getting into trouble was worth trying to drain the whole glass.

"Scrubbing every bathroom on this property, including the outhouses," Leon said, and I didn't have to see his face to know he was arching a brow.

Elliot's expression stretched into one of outrage. "The outhouses? Jesus, that's laying it on a little thick, don't you think?"

"I guess you won't have to worry about it if you don't start guzzling that, now will you?" Leon asked.

"Man," Elliot sighed, filling the cup up. "Sipping isn't nearly as satisfying."

Leon huffed, turning toward the wall. "Reno?"

"What?" Reno grumped.

"Make sure your idiot partner doesn't stupidly send himself into shock."

"Fine."

I arched a brow as Elliot disappeared out of sight and Leon turned back to me. "Interesting."

"What?" Leon asked.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say Reno sounds unhappy about whatever Elliot's doing rather than just being mad at everything around him," I said.

"Yeah, they're making a lot of progress, actually. I'd love to know what's working for them. Maybe I could apply it to other things in the future, but they're not exactly the most forthcoming."

I thought about it for a moment and shrugged. "They sleeping together?"

"They're in the same cabin, so…wait, like?—"

"Yes, Leon, like the big scary word."

Leon rolled his eyes and then scrunched his nose. "Do you think they're fucking?"

"I have no idea," I said with a laugh, ensuring we weren't overheard before continuing. "Do we even know what Reno's into?"

"No, but that's no surprise. I only know the guy likes ribs and salad because he eats plenty of the second and devours the first whenever they show up," Leon said with a shrug. "Anything else about him is a complete mystery."

"Eh, it was just a thought. I mean, that would be one way to take the sting out of the tail, so to speak," I said thoughtfully. "I've seen it before, not here…as far as I know."

"What, a cranky guy and a weird guy hooking up and suddenly not driving each other crazy?"

"Well, not that specific. Just two people who seemingly didn't get along, and then they do after a few turns in the sheets."

"Oh. Weird."

"I mean, not really," I said, lowering my voice. "Just look at Max and Riley."

"Yeah, that I did not see coming," he admitted with a snort. "Always thought Max was completely straight."

That was among the least surprising things about the Max and Riley debacle. However, I had to admit I had been surprised when it turned out Max and Riley were a thing. Not that it had ever been confirmed, but everyone had seen how Max reacted when Riley was seriously injured. And then how he'd acted when Riley was no longer at the ranch, I wouldn't call it moping, but there was a dourness about him that wasn't there usually.

More surprising was that Max hadn't come under fire for having a relationship with Riley when they were supposed to be mentor and mentee. That had been answered with the real shock that Riley had never truly been a part of the program. Instead, he came here, with Mona"s and Mr. Isaiah's blessing, to observe.

I didn't know exactly what he was supposed to have been observing, but it had something to do with how the place was run and how effective it was at its stated goal. All Leon told me was that Riley was a psych student who had come here to observe things for his dissertation.

"If we're going to slack, we might as well take an official break," Leon said. "C'mon, we're about due one anyway."

I wasn't going to argue and happily retreated under the tent"s shade. Now things had dried out after the month of storms back in August, there was comfort in being in the shade. Even more so, when I could snag a bottle of water and, taking my own advice, sip it slowly.

"You know, we've been playing catch up for a couple of weeks," I said as Leon grabbed a bottle of water and wiped his forehead. There was a redness to his face I didn't think was sunburn, but I would have to remind him to slather on some sunblock later to make sure he didn't burn.

"That we have," he said with a snort. "I learned that you cheated on your statistics final, and you learned that I got my nose broken twice in the same year."

"And that we both made poor choices in boyfriends since you dated a stripper and I dated a philosophy major."

"Yeah, pretty sure you have the worst taste."

"No denying that."

Most of what we'd learned had been of the same depth. I'd learned that the deathtrap of a truck he had finally managed to buy when he was twenty-one had given up the ghost a few years later in a spectacular fire. He learned that the seemingly good-condition car I'd managed to scrape together money for had fallen apart one piece at a time until a wheel flew off while I was driving and ripped a strut out.

Little things, nothing too deep, but I wouldn't complain. Those little things could add up if they were allowed to accumulate. As much as big moments in our lives defined things, nothing compared to those little moments and what they built to. They were ways of shaping our lives that were hard to explain but reached deep, so I would take them.

"So here's a deeper one. What about your brothers?" I asked, watching his face closely. "I've never heard you bring them up."

"Oh," he said, and looked around as if making sure there was no one nearby, which was a safe bet because the tent was empty, and the others were busy. "They're, uh…good, I guess."

"You guess?" I asked, feeling my heart sink.

His shoulders slumped. "Fine, I'm lying, at least about Ian. He died in a car accident six years ago. Kid had never touched a drop of alcohol in his life, as far as I know, but a drunk driver killed him. How's that for irony?"

"Jesus," I hissed, pulling up one of the fold-out chairs. "I'm so sorry, Leon."

He took the seat and shrugged sullenly. "That's the bitch of life, isn't it? You can do everything right and still get fucked. He was going to trade school to become an electrician. Had this sweet girl too. They were crazy about each other, and I was giving it another year or two before I heard about them getting engaged or having kids. And then boom! Gone."

I remembered once, years ago, when we were seventeen. I'd had the house to myself for the weekend while my parents went on a short vacation, and like any teenage boy with a boyfriend or girlfriend, I'd invited Leon over. He'd brought his brothers along, which was fine. There was plenty to keep them occupied and beds to spare for them to sleep in when their energy finally tuckered them out.

It was the perfect time to raid my parents" supplies to see what trouble we could get into. Trouble came in the form of a decent bottle of gin and some juice in the fridge. Even at the irreverent and risk-taking age of seventeen, Leon had been careful not to get too drunk while in charge of his brothers. I checked on them for him while we sat on the back deck, staring up at the stars whenever I went inside, knowing he was doing the same.

"You know," he'd said one of the times I returned to report, all was quiet. "What's your earliest memory?"

"I don't know, actually," I'd told him as I sat on the patio swing, his hand finding mine quickly. We'd been dating for a year, and I still felt my stomach swoop when we touched each other. "A party of some sort. Streamers and candles, some singing. I don't remember if it was mine or someone else's. It's foggy, why?"

"Mine was Ian."

"As in your brother?"

"Yeah. I would've been like, fiveish? And he was about one. My mom kept up the attempt to be sober for a while after she had him, but it didn't last long. After a while, he was just another mouth demanding attention and money. I remember being woken up by so much crying, and I went to find out what it was."

"Where were your parents?"

He snorted, taking a small sip of his mixed drink. "My mom was passed out on the floor of her room, and my dad was sleeping it off on the couch. Didn't wake up for shit. And I remember going out into the living room and seeing Ian sitting up, his face red and covered in snot and tears. Just screaming his little head off."

I was seventeen, but not heartless, and the image in my head made my chest ache. "Jesus."

"Yeah," he'd snorted, shaking his head. "I'd seen my mom do stuff to take care of him before, so I tried. I don't remember what, but I wasn't very good at it. That poor kid ended up getting gas from me not burping him properly, diaper rashes because I forgot to change him sometimes, and all sorts of things."

"You were there for him," I'd told him, squeezing his hand. "As a kid, not much older than him. That's not your fault."

He smiled, but his eyes stayed on the sky as he softly said, "I did better with Ray, though."

And now that little boy who had cried his head off until his big brother showed up and did his best to help him…was dead. I remembered Ian, a ball of energy, a mouth that ran on a seemingly infinite battery, and one of the brightest smiles I'd ever seen. He'd been attached to Leon in ways Ray had never been, and the bond between them had been tight.

"Oh, Leon," I said softly, unable to help myself. "I'm so sorry."

"Yeah, I didn't do too well after that," he said with a little laugh, shaking his head. It didn't dispel the misery in his eyes, but it did take away the wateriness. "Lost control of shit. Ray was nineteen and up in Austin for university."

"So, you didn't have anyone around to take care of, to anchor you."

"And I lost control. Only stopped when I found myself standing before a judge, realizing I was going to prison."

I wanted to ask, but I kept my mouth shut and instead asked, "And Ray?"

"Oh! He's doing great," Leon said, surprising me with his sudden heat and venom. "He's never been better."

"Uh, sarcasm?"

"No, last I checked, he was living the best life. Graduated with honors, got a great job as a private nurse, got his own house a few years ago, found a guy who, I guess treats him right," he said, the bitterness only growing. "They got married last year."

The phrasing was odd, but combined with his tone, I started to suspect what might have happened. "You found all this out secondhand, didn't you?"

His bitterness spread into a mirthless smile. "How could you tell?"

"What happened?" I asked softly.

He sighed. "Ray was always different to Ian. I don't know what it was, but I could never reach him like I could Ian. There was always this huge gap between us that I could never get across. I didn't even know where to start."

That tracked, I remembered Ray just as much. He had been quiet and introspective, more prone to sitting alone with a book, his phone, or his thoughts. He had never really liked being around people and always listened to Leon with an air of disdain and a silent attitude. It wasn't that he was a bad kid or mean to others, but there was something there that had been slightly off-putting to me that I had attributed to hormones and an otherwise shitty life at home with his parents.

"After Ian, I wasn't in any place to reach him. We grew increasingly distant, practically rocketing apart from one another. I started getting up to some bullshit, and he was getting his shit together," Leon said with a shake of his head. "I want to be mad at him because now I'm being treated the same way we treated our parents, but how can I blame him? I was making a mess of what little I had, but he was smart enough to get out when he could."

"Leon," I began, suddenly frustrated that I couldn't reach out and take his hand. Sure, I probably could have, but it would have looked weird, and everyone was already making jokes about us being together. I didn't want to add fuel to the fire. "Unless something changed when I wasn't around, or you were secretly horrible to them, you were the best parent you could be for those two. You sacrificed a lot to give them a better life than you had. You're allowed to be upset that he's treating you like a stranger."

Leon gave a shrug that infuriated me. I knew he was probably telling himself he deserved to be locked up because he'd screwed up his life, but I'd bet Ray had been looking for a way out long before Leon went off the deep end. It was shitty, in my opinion, to look at someone who tried their best and then turn your back when they started to fall apart.

It wasn't like I thought Leon was a perfect parent. Christ, he'd started caring for them when he was still in single digits. There was more than enough room for errors. But Ray had been old enough to understand that his brother had done the best he could with the shittiest hand in existence. But then, Ray and Ian had been as different as night in day. I suppose it only made sense it was the same with this.

"Look," Leon said, "what's important is that he's doing well, okay? The whole point of everything was to make sure they had good lives, better than the one I had. Even if…even if I'm not a part of his life anymore, I can see he has a good one. That's enough."

I wanted to ask him what that meant for his life now and if he could finally start living for himself, but I kept my mouth shut. It was neither the time nor the place to have that discussion. Hell, if I'd known what floodgates I was opening, I wouldn't have asked after his brothers in the first place.

"Sorry to have brought that up," I told him with a wince. "That's…not easy to deal with."

"No, it's not," he said with a small laugh that sounded a little closer to humorous than the last ones. "But I don't know. That was easier to talk about than I thought it would be. Maybe because I've just…not told anyone else about that shit."

"Really?" I asked in surprise. "Even in the intake evaluations?"

Everyone marked as a candidate for the program was given evaluations while they were still in prison. I didn't know their purpose, but it wasn't hard to guess. They wanted to ensure anyone they brought in would be a good fit and they hadn't gone ‘wrong' in prison. Family history would have been brought up in at least one of the evaluations.

"Eh, the shrink asked about my family. Told her I had a brother still alive, and one that had passed a couple of years before. And that I didn't talk to my remaining brother or my parents," he said with a shrug. "She asked about Ian, but either it wasn't all that interesting a topic, or she let me not talk about it."

"Huh, so why tell me?" I asked.

He looked up with a frown of confusion. "Seriously?"

"What?" I asked with a little laugh. "Is it this face? Does it invite trust?"

He rolled his eyes. "You're ridiculous. I don't know, maybe because even with everything…weird between us, I still trust you with some shit. And maybe because…I mean, some people can understand what it means to lose a sibling, and some might even understand what it means to lose someone who's both your sibling and like a son. But no one knows what it means to me like you would."

It was hard to argue with logic when he was right. I had been around early on to see the struggles he'd gone through, unable to do anything. He would never take help for himself, but if his brothers needed something or were low on food, he would accept my help. It was never much, just enough to get by, but at least I could negotiate, so he knew I wouldn't accept repayment. That had been one hell of an argument, but in the end, I'd pointed out that I wanted to help, and if he wanted to help his brothers, he'd take the offer…something he'd never quite forgiven me for.

He jerked in surprise when I laughed. "What? What the fuck?"

"Sorry," I said with a chuckle. "Have you ever gotten over the fact that I bullied you into accepting money from me without ever being able to pay me back?"

He blinked a few times. "Yeah, I guess I finally did get over it. You know, I hated it when you did that to me, and it pissed me right off that you would never take my money."

"Never stopped you from trying to sneak money into my room or my wallet," I said with a chuckle.

"I'm ashamed to admit most of those attempts were unsuccessful. But I did get you a few times. You ever find that money in your computer bag?"

"Seriously? I broke that hundred into tens and kept slipping it into your wallet after you paid for something over, like, six months. You were always surprised you had more money than you thought, and I was always so sure you'd figure it out."

His eyes widened. "Seriously? I thought I was losing my mind for the longest time and couldn't count."

I laughed again. "You were the one being unreasonable about the whole thing. Sheesh, my parents had been throwing money into a checking account for me to use for ages. I had more money than I needed since they already paid for everything, and I never went anywhere or did anything."

"It was about the principle."

"It was sheer stubborn pride because you had it in your head that if you were going to do it, then you were going to do it."

"Hey!"

"And was that because you wanted to prove something to yourself, or was it your way of silently spiting your parents?"

"The parents who didn't care one bit if we lived or died except that it would get them in trouble?"

"Mmm."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah."

"Ugh, a little of both."

I bumped him with my shoulder and continued to chuckle. "Yeah, I figured."

"You're always so smug when you're right."

"That's because I'm right often."

"Uh-huh."

"Don't be grumpy because you're wrong most of the time."

He stood up with a roll of his eyes. "I think that's a long enough break, don't you think?"

I wasn't ashamed to admit that I let my eyes linger on him when he chose to stretch the moment he was at eye level. It seemed only fair, considering I'd caught him a few times eyeballing me when he thought I wasn't looking, so it was perfectly fine for me to return the favor, and I was never disappointed.

Work on the ranch had done wonders for a body that had always been good from what I could remember. Here was a man who had always been in shape from his jobs and now, between getting three good meals a day and frequent manual labor, had grown even stronger. For now, though, it was just a peek of his toned flat stomach and a small patch of dark hair that thinned as it reached the waistband of his jeans.

He stopped, dropping his arms and smiling at me. "Do you remember that day trip we took to Austin?"

I had almost forgotten about that and laughed. "Actually, I do. I remember you impressed me with your mechanical skill fixing my car."

"Oh yeah, replacing a tire and realizing one of your battery cables was loose was definitely a feat," he said as I stood up to join him outside the tent.

Well, I had found it impressive, but I was also the same person that when you started talking about cars, my brain instinctively shut off, and all I heard was gibberish. Over the years, I'd learned more, but it had been impressive for seventeen-year-old me, who barely knew what a lug nut was.

"Why bring that up?" I asked curiously.

"Eh, I guess all this catching up has got me thinking. And that trip came up," he said with a shrug. "C'mon, let's work."

"Yeah," I said, and if he noticed my lack of enthusiasm, he probably attributed it to the labor ahead of us. Instead, he had inadvertently dragged up the memory of the last trip the two of us had ever had, a week before I'd left for college. A week that had been so sweet, fiery, and bitter all at the same time. It was a week that stuck with me for years, and even now, I remembered it.

Our last real goodbye.

* * *

The moonlight was a soft streak of silver across the room, a breeze flapping the thin curtains gently. Laying on the plush bed, my body tangled with his, I stared out of the large glass doors to stare up at what few stars I could see.

"C'mon," he mumbled, his voice soft, startling me.

"I thought you were asleep," I admitted, peering down at him. From the hazy look in his eyes, he had been asleep, but he was smiling softly.

"I was, but someone's thinking woke me up for some reason," he said, bowing his head to kiss me on the chest. "And then I realized we've spent enough time in here all night. I'd kind of like to spend some time outside."

That made sense. I'd been feeling the same thing. Sitting outside was one of those things we had always done together, where we felt the most comfortable. I couldn't count the hours over the past few years we'd spent on the back deck of my parents' house, trying to see what stars were strong enough to make it through the light pollution.

"C'mon," he repeated, pulling himself out of bed. My eyes lingered on his naked body, feeling a faint tingle of desire inside me. This was our last night together. I would be leaving Austin tomorrow, and our ability to travel to see one another would be…limited. We had taken this last chance to express how much we'd miss one another in the most literal and direct way possible, but even that wasn't enough to dissolve my desire for him.

If I mentioned it to someone older, they would wave me off, "You're only eighteen. Of course you're always horny." But that was the thing. I wasn't always horny except around him. I'd known I was into guys from about ten and had the occasional spark of attraction.

All of them failed compared to him, and part of me hoped and was terrified that it would always be that way.

But we had done enough tonight, and the spark was easy to quench as I rose from the bed to follow him outside, taking the blanket with us. I'd rented the house for a week so we could know what it was like to have time away from everyone else, just the two of us. His brothers were staying at a friend's house, with the parents being paid from Leon's funds because, of course, he had insisted on that.

This house, though? The trip and all the food and things we did? That was all me. It was my way of finally being able to spoil him the way I'd always wanted, but it was only at our goodbye that he relented to it. I had tried not to go overboard and failed miserably, but we had enjoyed ourselves.

Thankfully, the house wasn't too big, but it was comfortable, and Leon shook his head when he'd seen the inside. I knew him well enough to know he probably thought it was well beyond anything he could have afforded. That was probably true, but I hadn't cared. It was comfortable and isolated, and we had it all to ourselves.

Which was why we could step outside onto the back porch without fear of being spotted. The nearest neighbors were the house"s owners, who were a couple of miles away. A lovely couple who didn't ask questions, though the husband had winked when he'd told me I had good taste in places to take my girlfriend.

We dropped onto the outdoor couch and immediately sought one another out to curl around. His body was scorching hot still, but I didn't care. The night was cool enough that I could wrap us in the blanket, and we could enjoy the stars.

I didn't know how long we sat there, looking up at a sky you could never see near the city. We had both been in awe of it the first night, and it seemed the magic still hadn't worn off. We watched the stars flicker and twinkle overhead, and I smiled when I saw a streak of light pass overhead before disappearing out of sight.

"Make a wish," Leon said, his voice lightly tinged with sarcasm.

"Pessimist," I said with a little laugh.

"Realist."

"Same thing."

I leaned into him, and he wrapped his arms around my shoulders and squeezed. It was a little tight, making my bones feel like they were almost grinding together. Yet I welcomed the feeling, just like I welcomed the dull ache in my arms, or my ass for that matter. They were reminders of him, of the time we had spent together, and now that I was looking down the barrel, I wanted to hold onto all the things that would remind me of him for as long as possible.

"I'm sorry," I finally said, speaking the two words I had been meaning to speak from the moment I'd told him I was going to school. The look on his face hadn't been surprise. I suppose he'd always known I wouldn't stick around, and I had talked about becoming a doctor since I was twelve. No, the look on his face had been resignation, happiness, and almost completely hidden pain.

"Don't be," he said, not bothering with the song and dance of asking what I meant. But that made sense, our time together was running out quickly, and there was no point in wasting it on word games.

"I am."

"Well, then, so am I?"

"Why?"

"Because I can't follow you."

I sighed. "Don't be."

"See?"

I knew what he was saying. Our lives were splitting in different directions. I couldn't stay, and he couldn't leave. We were bound up in a mess of circumstances and choices that separated us. I had played with the idea of choosing to stay with him, trying to build a life together, and I had just…well, I couldn't do it.

There were things I wanted to do with my life. Yes, one of the biggest was to try to build a life together with him, but it wasn't the only thing. I wanted to help people, care for people, and improve their lives in significant ways. I couldn't do that if I stayed, and he had his brothers to think of.

"It's not like this is forever," he said, and I wondered if he believed it or if he thought that was the right thing to say right now. "Ian is already talking about college, and he says it sounds like Ray wants to do that eventually too. It's not the end of the world for us. We still have a chance."

Neither of us had discussed if long distance was something either of us could put up with for long, but I wasn't going to bring it up now. Sometimes, it felt like the two of us were just hanging on until the very end, whenever that came. Like there was nothing either of us could do but keep going the same way we were, no matter how much it hurt.

"I know," I said, pressing tighter into him.

I hoped it wasn't too late as I shot a thought to the shooting star that had passed overhead to wish that no matter what, we would find our way back to one another again. It was a pitiful, desperate thing that had no effect on anything, but for a moment, it made me feel better to have put that out into the universe, that something might have heard me.

* * *

"Shit, look out!"

"Move, move, move!"

"Fuck!"

Shouts jerked me out of my thoughts, and I whirled just in time to watch the large wall they'd been building suddenly seem a lot bigger…and closer. Leon and I had been walking past it, heading back to the fence line we had been making, and I'd been too lost in my thoughts to realize the danger.

"Reed!" Leon's panicked cry pierced through my haze of fear, but it was too late, and I didn't have time to react.

Leon, however, suddenly appeared next to me and shoved me. My feet skittered in the dirt, and then he gave a final heave and I found myself picked up off my feet and tossed backward as Leon displayed a strength I didn't know he had. Everything spun, and suddenly, I was staring at the ground, blinking away the dust.

Still confused, I grunted in surprise when strong hands gripped me and pulled me up with a yank. Expecting my savior to be there to chew me out for being an airhead, I frowned when I realized it was Reno, holding my arm with the collapsed wall behind him.

I was no expert, but it looked like they hadn't anchored it properly, and I vaguely wondered why they were starting with one wall instead of doing the whole frame first. Whatever the reason, the thick wood and the metal poles they'd been using were a scattered pile of complete disaster on the ground, with everyone standing around frantically trying to move it off a figure lying face down in the dirt.

Understanding was the sharp, icy jab of fear to the chest. Panic rose like a scream inside me, and utter calm gagged the hysteria before it could find footing.

"Let go of me," I said, pulling my arm away from Reno and marching forward.

I needed to get Leon.