Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Ethan stopped driving after a while, because, whatever Adam had been dreaming about, had pulled him from his sleep more than once and he was cranky and looked sore. He didn't tell Ethan he was in pain and didn't complain once, but every time he startled awake, he would curse in his half-sleep and tense in discomfort.

They stopped in Wisconsin Dells at the first gas station Ethan reached, and Ethan helped Adam out of the car.

Critically he checked Adam over—he looked gray and lines of tension bracketed his eyes. "Did you take all the tablets they said you should?"

Adam wouldn't look him in the eyes. "Most of them," he mumbled.

Ethan didn't press for more; he certainly wasn't here to tell Adam what to do, but he couldn't drive any farther with Adam in pain next to him. Anything but that.

They bought snacks—not that Ethan was hungry, and given that all Adam picked up was a packet of Cheetos, he clearly wasn't interested in food either.

"How far did we get?" Adam asked as they reached the car again.

"Not far. But we're finding somewhere to stay tonight, you're taking all your meds, and tomorrow we'll push on."

Ethan was deliberately needling for a defense, but all he got was Adam slumping by the side of the car, looking dejected.

"I don't like the way they make me feel," Adam said.

"Pain-free, you mean?"

Adam shrugged and winced at the movement. "All I'll do is sleep, and I don't have any control over…."

"Control over what?"

Adam became agitated and clenched his fists. "Over anything," he snapped. "I'm just going to end up sitting in the passenger seat sleeping and, the next thing I know, I'll wake up in Montana and I won't have had a minute to process any of this."

Fear crossed Adam's face as he talked about the destination they were heading for. Ethan didn't blame him for being scared; it must be hell not to have memories of any of it.

"I get why you're feeling this way."

Adam looked at him in disbelief. "How the hell can you imagine even half of how I feel?"

Ethan sensed that Adam was looking for something from him, but he doubted it was anything more than a fight. And fighting with Adam was not happening today. Not on his watch.

"You need to rest," Ethan encouraged instead. He helped Adam in, then buckled up and started the car, entered the highway and drove no more than five minutes down the road, turning into the first hotel they came to. The front parking lot was full of signs for various water parks, proclaiming Wisconsin Dells was the water park capital of the US. They were seeing all the best places on this impromptu road trip.

They booked one room again, took the snacks and food to the room, and settled in as best they could with the uncomfortable silence between them. Adam was lost in his own headspace, his face set in a mask of concentration, and Ethan was happy to sit in silence as long as Adam needed.

Adam had said that Ethan didn't know half of what Adam felt, and he was right. He couldn't know what it felt like to lose your identity. Or, to have no one looking for the person Adam had been the last twelve years. Everything must add up to a sense of despair in Adam, that Ethan hoped he'd never experience. He fired off an email to Jen, asking if she had any more information for him, and another one to Cole, on the off chance that Cole was able to receive them wherever he was.

"What are you doing?" Adam asked.

Ethan looked up, surprised at the question and equally surprised that Adam asked it so evenly, without a trace of the anxiety and anger that had marked their earlier exchange. The only thing that gave Adam's inner turmoil away was the tightness of his expression.

"I just sent an email to Cole."

"You had a smile on your face when you sent it." Adam reached into the bag and pulled out his medication, placing it next to his bottle of water. "Are you close to him?"

That was an incredibly loaded question, and Ethan took a few moments to consider exactly how to phrase what he needed to say.

"We used to be really close, me, Cole, and Nate. We were all born in the same year, went to the same school, and made our kid brother's lives hell. Usual shit."

"So what happened?"

You. You and Justin disappearing happened.

"Nate loved his horses, and his parents died. He was left holding the reins for his brothers, Gabe and Luke. Then he turned to bull riding for a bit, came back home, and now runs Crooked Tree. He was always the one who was going to stay at the ranch, the one who had the earth inside him and loved it."

"And Cole?"

"I shouldn't be telling you all this. They said at the hospital?—"

"Fuck the hospital," Adam interrupted. "Who is Cole to you? To me?"

"I think he just wanted to get away from Crooked Tree, when he and Mary separated he went into the Navy, and we've not seen much of him since."

"So distance is what came between you. That's all. Cole isn't a bastard or someone I don't want to know?"

Ethan shook his head and relaxed back in the comfortable chair by the desk. He looked out of the window; the hotel had given them a room with a view of the rear parking lot, which was a lot less interesting than a lookout to the highway, but he couldn't face Adam just yet. "Cole is a good man, he looked after you when your dad… when he was angry."

"Dad was angry, or Cole?"

Finally he looked right at Adam. "Your dad. You have to believe we didn't know the half of what was happening in your house. Cole never told us. The two of you were tighter than tight, really close, and you both kept so much from us all."

"Like what?"

Ethan's chest tightened at the memories of what he'd found out, at what Adam and Cole's dad had done.

"He wasn't a good man, your dad. That's all I know, really."

"You're lying," Adam snapped. There was a hint of temper back in his eyes.

"The Adam and Cole I knew, had a dad who kept control with a belt and not a lot of love, okay? Then, when you disappeared, the rest of the family left. That was… look… Cole and I…." Ethan stopped. Familiar regret choked him. "I was handling my own grief at losing Justin. I knew how Cole felt, to lose a brother, and we had new paths—Cole to deal with his own heartache in any way he could, and me to become a cop, always looking for you both."

Ethan ran out of steam. Adam stared at him, opened his mouth to say something, and then closed it again. Was that the end of the questions for now? Because if Ethan wasn't careful, he'd blurt the whole lot out, including what they meant to each other and how it wasn't just losing Justin that killed him, but losing Adam and the start of their young love.

Adam took the pills and carefully eased himself up on the bed. "Does he look like me?" he asked.

"Same dark hair, same brown eyes, but he's taller than you are and built like a brick shithouse. You wouldn't choose to go up against him in a dark alley."

Adam appeared to think about that, closing his eyes and laying his arms flat out to his sides. "I have muscles," he near whispered. "I think I work with horses."

Ethan said nothing, waiting for more words or for the pain to ease enough so that Adam could sleep.

Seemed Adam had run out of things to say. His breathing changed from bordering on labored to smooth, and the tension in his face eased. Finally he slept.

Ethan's cell vibrated with an email notification and Ethan checked it immediately, disappointed that all it contained was a message from Jen saying they'd had no hits on the artwork and there was still no missing person's report that matched the vague descriptions of Adam. He guessed he'd need to take some new photos when the swelling on his face subsided.

Who were you for the last twelve years? Why does no one know you're missing?

From here he had a good view of Adam and the muscles he'd been talking about. Ethan shuffled the chair a little closer, looking at Adam's arms, at the definition there and the rough skin of his hands. Carefully he moved the cover a little to see the inside of Adam's arms, checking for track marks or scars, even though he resented that his cop brain even went there. The boy he'd known wouldn't have touched drugs, wouldn't have become something so different to the person Ethan had loved.

Surely that was true?

The blemish on Adam's neckline, a faint darkening of the skin, was definitely some kind of burn scar, and the edge of the shoulder tattoo was stark against his throat.

The same darker skin was at Adam's temples as well, disappearing up under his thick, near-black hair.

What happened to you? Was this why you disappeared? Were you both hurt?

His cop brain, having searched for signs of drugs, switched to detective mode. Was it possible there had been an accident, with Adam and Justin in a car or something? Had there been a fire? Had Adam lost a first set of memories and not known to come back home? But then, what about Justin?

Ethan realized he was going around in circles, and he picked up his cell, connecting to Jen.

She answered on the first ring, sounding out of breath. A quick look at his watch had him realizing she was probably at her spin class, the one he covered her for on this day and time unless they were actively out on a case.

"Allens?"

He could hear the noise of the class behind her. "I'll call back," he said.

"No, hang on."

The noise receded. "I'm done. Is everything okay?"

"I have a new parameter in the JA case. Could you run fires on and around 10 March 2004?" He'd shared the Justin-Adam disappearance with her on day two of their partnership, after she called him out on his misery and general fucked-off-with-life crap. He loved her for it.

"That's a mighty big parameter. What kind of fire?"

"House, car, I don't have a fucking clue."

"I'll add it to your search. Is that it? How's he doing?"

Ethan looked back at Adam, at the gentle rise and fall of his chest. "It's not easy for him," he said quietly.

"Where are you?"

"Wisconsin Dells."

"Where the fuck?"

"Not far past where we got to yesterday."

She snorted a laugh. "You ever planning on getting back to Montana? Like, ever?"

"Fuck off, Jen."

"Fuck you back, Allens."

They ended the call with goodbyes. Ethan tapped his cell rhythmically against his thigh, finally deciding that he might as well do his own more limited searches on the web.

Adam slept six hours, woke up grumpy, the crankiness wearing off as they ate at the burger joint across the street from the hotel.

They went back to the hotel and Adam didn't hesitate to take more pills.

Within an hour the room was in darkness, Adam was asleep and Ethan had selected a film from the pay-per-view menu. Some mindless hero film, the kind of thing he loved, where the good guys won and the bad guys ended up in prison or dead.

He didn't watch a single bit of it, but the noise kept him company as he thought about the Adam he'd known as a boy.

And it always came back to one thing.

Was he still in love with the man Adam had become? And what would it take to ever lose the fact that Ethan had been Adam's first crush, his first love, and that Ethan had loved him back.

I was only seventeen what did I know about love? Hell, Adam was only fifteen when he vanished. We'd only kissed once. What can that possibly mean in the cold light of day twelve years later?

When Ethan lay down to sleep, all he could think was one thing.

His love for Adam was still there; it had never left. It was not like the love he would forever have for his brother, for Justin.

The love he felt for Adam dwelt in a very different part of his heart.