Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

They made it across state lines and into North Dakota by lunchtime the next day. Just under four hours of driving, through all of which Adam slept.

That was probably for the best. Ethan had been handed a grenade with that question about love, and he had no idea how to defuse the damn thing.

Was it possible to still love a person you hadn't been around for twelve years? What if, in that time, Adam had become a man Ethan wouldn't like? A criminal or someone who hurt people? What if he'd changed into someone Ethan hated?

His rational brain told him he needed to hold off, that Adam wasn't well, that he needed time to heal, and that Ethan couldn't possibly still love the man Adam had become as much as he'd loved Adam the teenager on the cusp of manhood. His rational side demanded he allow Adam to remember things at his own speed, and that Ethan shouldn't hinder it by giving commentary on everything Adam recalled.

His heart, though? That was pretty much fucked. Ethan's grief for him all those years ago, losing the brightness in his life with his brother and his new boyfriend gone, had been too much to bear. Ethan had isolated himself from his family when they demanded he accept that Justin and Adam were dead.

Ethan would never believe that, and look—he'd been vindicated. If Adam was still alive, then maybe Justin was out there too. And if Ethan could unlock the puzzle that was Adam, then he could find Justin.

Jen emailed him that morning, said there had been ten possible fire connections within a two-hundred-mile radius of Crooked Tree, and did he want her to dig deeper.

He'd hesitated before saying yes. Was it fair to ask her to spend her downtime on something so intensely personal? In the end he'd asked if she could, and all she emailed back were two words.

On it.

He pulled up at the first mall he found. Buffalo Mall promised food and anything else they needed. Ethan hadn't exactly packed for an extended road trip. They ate and found the first clothing shop that held jeans.

And all the time, Adam was curiously quiet. For the time being, Ethan was okay with that. The can of worms would be well and truly opened if Adam dug deeper into how Ethan felt. Especially when Ethan wasn't sure if what he felt was just phantom memories of the promise they had so many years before.

They made it back to the car, Ethan carrying the bags and Adam in charge of the two milkshakes they'd picked up on the way out. Ethan put the bags in the car and turned to see Adam standing right up close to him. The proximity didn't make him nervous, exactly, but it did make him wonder what the hell was going on.

Adam looked so serious, thoughtful, and focused. All that focus was currently aimed straight at Ethan.

"What?" Ethan asked.

They weren't that different in height. Ethan had maybe an inch or two on Adam, and when Adam tilted his head up and kissed him, he let out an unmanly curse of surprise.

Square on the mouth, Adam pressed his lips to Ethan's and then relaxed back.

"Done," Adam said.

"Whatthefuck?" Ethan's words ran together.

"Just wanted to see if it made me remember anything."

"Jeez, warn a guy," Ethan snapped, more affected by the kiss than he wanted to let on. Sense memory was all it was, but having Adam that close to him, kissing him—even that sad excuse for a kiss was enough to have him wanting more.

So much for time eroding how he felt.

"I don't think it was enough." Adam had a familiar expression on his face. Even under the bruising and the stubble, there was the light of mischief in his eyes.

Ethan's heart began to shatter as every memory of this man began to shake loose in his head. Adam had followed him around like a lost puppy. Justin had teased him about it, wondering how any person wanted to actually spend time with quiet, reserved Ethan, the big brother who liked to read books and study hard.

Adam just wanted to talk to Ethan every chance he got, his big eyes and his analytical expressions were so dangerous to a young man like Ethan, who felt more for Adam than he let on.

Carefully, Adam placed the milkshakes onto the trunk and, during all the time he did that, Ethan watched. He didn't move back; he didn't even step one inch away. He couldn't. It was as if he was frozen to the ground, every muscle absolutely still.

Adam slid his hands up and around the back of Ethan's neck, locking them there, wincing at the pain that was probably pulling at his protesting muscles. Still, whatever pain he was in, didn't stop him. This time, when Adam pressed their mouths together, he pressed the tip of his tongue to Ethan's lips and asked for entrance.

Ethan fought it for about a second, if that, and then couldn't help himself, he allowed the kiss to deepen. The taste of chocolate and cream, and Adam's scents around him, were too much.

With a groan, he wrapped his arms around Adam's back and held on for the ride.

They'd kissed before when they were nothing more than kids, neither entirely sure what they wanted out of life or romance, just knowing they'd tiptoed around each other for what seemed like forever. One tentative kiss that promised more.

This kiss was different, demanding and practiced. Adam had clearly been with someone since he disappeared, maybe even had had a serious relationship.

Ethan eased himself away. "Stop," he said firmly, even though what he really wanted to do was pull Adam back in his arms.

Adam reached for him, but Ethan sidestepped.

"Ethan, I just wanted to?—"

"What if you have a wife, or a husband, or kids?" Ethan interrupted. "Or, hell, a whole life that means you're cheating on someone if you kiss me?"

Adam looked offended, then thoughtful. Then he closed his eyes and bowed his head. "It doesn't feel like I'm hurting anyone, not in my heart," he mumbled. Pressing a hand to his chest, right over his heart, he didn't look up. "Anyway, whoever is in my life isn't missing me."

Ethan's heart broke for the man standing there with his whole life on hold. He placed a hand on Adam's arm and squeezed gently. "We shouldn't kiss. You don't know me, and I don't know you anymore."

Adam looked up and his eyes were bright. "But it feels right. Didn't that seem right? Tell me you feel that. There must have been a reason why the only name I could recall was yours."

Ethan wanted to agree, he wanted Adam to know how he felt, how much it meant to have him back in his life, but he didn't. Ethan had had relationships since Adam and Justin had gone. He'd slept with other men, even lived with a paramedic in Missoula for a two-month period. None of them were Adam; none of them meant the same as his love for Adam had, but he'd moved on as best he could.

No doubt, Adam would have done the same thing.

"Let's get moving." Ethan waited for Adam to move first, and finally, with a shake of his head, Adam buckled himself into the car and waited for Ethan to get in as well.

"But the kiss?"

"Adam, we can talk at the next hotel, okay? I just want to get going now."

He was lying. He itched with the need to reach for Adam, to taste him, and to remind himself of the heartache he'd carried for so long.

"Okay." Adam sounded disappointed, resigned, but at least he didn't argue.

Ethan looked back at the mall, at the people in the parking lot, none of them paying him particular attention or doing anything other than going on with their lives. And here was Ethan, caught up in something bigger than ordinary life.

Three hours driving and they were very close to the Montana state line. It became more and more apparent that Adam was restless in his sleep. At the café in the mall, Ethan had watched Adam take the same pills as before, but they didn't seem to be enough to keep him asleep. His dreams appeared turbulent and only stopped when Ethan reached over and placed a hand on his arm or his thigh. Somehow the connection eased the tension in Adam, but only long enough for Ethan to think he'd settled, and then the restlessness started up again.

Just outside Beach, no more than a few miles to the state line, Adam shot bolt upright in his seat as much as the belt would let him, and scrabbled at the door.

"Let me out," he gasped. "There!" he shouted.

Ethan saw the old sign and pulled over immediately. The way Adam was yanking at the door would have him spilling out onto the blacktop. Luckily the sign was for an abandoned diner with a weed-choked parking area, and Ethan came to a stop.

Adam tumbled out of the car. Pocketing the keys, Ethan followed him, catching him just by the gaping hole where a front door used to be.

Adam wasn't breathing right; he was mid–panic attack, gasping, sobbing, and in pain.

Had he remembered something? Had the kiss they'd shared shaken him so much that a memory had forced its way up from wherever they were hiding?

Adam slumped against the wall, sliding down onto his ass.

Ethan was by his side immediately, simply sitting there, shoulder to shoulder. He didn't know what would be the best thing to do. Touching Adam, holding him down in a hug, shouting at him, none of those seemed like options that would work here.

"Saw Smoke," Adam managed between gasps. "Nothing else. Just lying there, and I was stroking his muzzle."

So there had been a memory, and not a good one, it seemed. Adam wasn't making sense, but Ethan didn't press for explanation. He just sat and waited, and listened to the pain in Adam's sobs. The elusive memories were somehow visiting him in his dreams and scaring the shit out of him.

Did Adam mean he'd seen Smoke die? He couldn't have. Ethan had found Smoke, still saddled, his leg broken. Ethan's dad had been the one to put a bullet in him to stop his suffering. They buried him where they found him.

Ethan and Nate had made a small marker, tracked his steps, and tried to find Justin and Adam. They'd found nothing.

Adam went quiet, his breathing slowing, his panic softening to what Ethan assumed was a growing embarrassment.

"Sorry," Adam said.

"No need to be sorry."

Adam buried his face in his hands and let out a laugh of self-derision. "Fucking hell. Stupid, this is so fucking stupid. But the idea of crossing the state line… freaks me out."

"Really?"

"What else can it be? The very idea of seeing Montana is like a weight on me." He pulled a small leaflet from his pocket, wincing as he twisted to get it. "Look," he said and passed over the crumpled and creased paper.

Ethan couldn't see so well in the gathering gloom of late afternoon, and he pulled out his cell to find the flashlight app. The leaflet was a generic "Welcome to the Big Sky State" one; the kind of thing you find in racks of tourist information. There were some words, but over three-quarters of it were photos: vistas of mountains and rivers with so much green, and the vast blue skies above.

Adam waited until he'd scanned both sides. "I don't know what it is, but it feels wrong." Ethan offered the pamphlet back, but Adam shook his head violently, wincing in pain. "I don't want it, I don't want to touch it, or see it, or think about it."

Ethan considered the impassioned response. "Really?"

Adam frowned. "You think I'm mad, don't you. Like I'm losing my mind."

"Not at all, there is nothing about you that makes me believe you're losing your mind."

"Really?" Adam looked pathetically hopeful.

"You disappeared. For some reason you stayed away from the ranch for twelve years without a word, you and Justin both, and I can only think that something or some one made you stay away. Through fear, maybe, I don't know. But if you were told not to go back to Montana…."

Ethan was surprised at the theory he'd just come out with from absolutely nowhere. What if he was right? What if someone had told Justin and Adam to leave and never come back?

"You think that could be it? Is that why, when I see those photos, I feel sick with fear?"

Ethan thought about placating him with reassurances, but the way Adam looked at him, with absolute trust in his expression, Ethan knew he couldn't do that to him.

"I don't know. I wish I knew for sure, but how about this. We're about to cross into Montana. You want to stop here instead? Give ourselves another night before we cross state lines?"

The sky was darkening, and when Adam looked over at him, he looked wiped out, exhausted to the point that he clearly couldn't think.

"Please," he said finally.

"We'll find somewhere, get dinner, sleep, and see how you feel in the morning."

Ethan stood and extended a hand, Adam took it and faltered when he stood, wavering at the sudden movement. He gripped Ethan hard and leaned heavily on his support as they stumbled toward the car.

"I'll be back in a few minutes," Ethan began. "I just need to make a call."

Desperately, Adam gripped him. "Don't call the doctors."

"I wasn't?—"

"I'm not losing my mind."

"I know."

"Promise me, Ethan."

The grip he had on Ethan's hand was so tight that Ethan was sure the circulation in his fingers would be cut off. He shook his hand free, then patted Adam on the arm. "I promise."

When Adam was safely in the car, and before Ethan could second-guess himself, he found the name he needed in the phone and connected the call. He couldn't talk to Cole, but he could try to connect with the other person who would maybe have an opinion on what the hell was going on.

"Nate Todd's phone," a man answered.

"Hi, is Nate there?"

"Who is this?"

"It's Ethan."

"Oh, okay, one minute. Nate… it's for you."

A deep voice and a laugh, and Ethan heard Nate say from a distance, "It's my phone, course it's for me."

Then there was a pause, and finally Nate was on the other end of the line.

"Nate Todd," he said formally.

"Nate, it's Ethan."

Nate was quiet; he didn't immediately say anything. Hell, Ethan only ever called his former best friend when he wanted to talk about Justin and Adam, about a lead, or a piece of evidence, or a sighting of some sort.

"What is it?" Nate finally said.

Ethan considered telling him everything, but doing that over the phone seemed wrong, and he didn't want anyone else at Crooked Tree to think this meant they would find Justin. He wasn't going to break his dad's heart all over again. But what else could he do? He was taking Adam home, and he could do with Nate being in his corner; he'd put off contacting Nate for way too long.

"I have some news," Ethan said.

"What?" Nate sounded tired. He'd heard a lot before, evidence that led this way or that, information that gave hope and then smashed it to bits. Ethan didn't blame him for his hesitation; Nate was always left to pick up the pieces with Ethan's dad when Ethan wasn't there.

"I don't know how to…. Nate, I can't believe it, but I found Adam."

Silence.

"Adam? Someone saw him?" It wasn't the first time that Nate had heard something like that. He'd paused, but clearly in those few seconds had worked his way through hope and straight on to disbelief.

"No, Nate. I mean I got a call to go to Chicago, and I found Adam."

More silence, heavy with unspoken questions. "I need to sit down," Nate finally said.

Ethan heard some talking, but it was muffled. Nate was probably talking to his partner, Jay, whom Ethan hadn't even met yet. Which just proved how seldom he ever set foot on the ranch.

"Talk to me," Nate finally ordered.

And Ethan told him as much as he knew, including the memory loss, and then he stopped the explanation.

"And Justin?" Nate asked.

"Nothing. He doesn't remember anything except my name and the name of the ranch, and a few bits about Smoke."

"Shit, Ethan, I'm so fucking sorry."

More silence. Ethan swallowed his grief as he listened to himself explain. "We're stopping in Beach. Adam's not doing so well, and I thought that if you could, we could meet up before we get to the ranch. We're driving to Billings tomorrow. You think we could meet? I need… just…."

He knew what he was asking. This was too much to do alone, and he needed his friend.

Nate didn't hesitate. "We'll be there, text me an address. Can he talk? I mean, can I speak to him?"

Ethan looked over at the car, at Adam slumped in the seat. "He's asleep in the car. He's not sleeping well at the moment. I want you to meet him face-to-face."

"Okay. Is he… can he…? I…. Fuck, Ethan." Nate couldn't string a sentence together anymore than Ethan could form an explanation for what he needed from his old friend.

"Will you be okay?" Nate asked. His tone was gruff.

Ethan knew what he was asking. Was it okay that he'd found Adam and not Justin?

Ethan didn't answer; he was far from okay. His brother was still out there, he was convinced of it, but he'd managed to scrape back a bit of his heart by having Adam next to him in the car. "Don't tell Dad, okay?"

Marcus Allens had grieved enough in his life, losing his first wife, Ethan and Justin's mom, to cancer, and then Justin disappearing. To present him with Adam but not Justin was going to be the hardest thing Ethan had ever done.

"Okay, if you think that's for the best."

"I didn't know if I should bring Adam home, but I have to, Nate."

"I agree."

Ethan sagged a little in relief. He'd needed to hear that.

"We'll figure something out," Nate added.

"Thanks, Nate."

"Ethan?"

"Uh-huh."

"I don't know how this must make you feel…." Nate trailed away. So much was unspoken between them; he didn't know what to say any more than Ethan did.

"I don't know how it makes me feel," Ethan admitted. He was being entirely honest; the mix of emotions inside him was too much for him to categorize any one of them. "I'll see you in Billings, text you the details."

They ended the call with no goodbyes, no further conversation. Ethan had had a few days to get used to the idea that Adam was back; that was Nate's first hearing of it. He was likely in shock.

Ethan climbed into the car, put his cell to charge, checked Adam's seat belt, and left the old diner. And through all of it, Adam slept.

The inn Ethan found was nothing fancy, but the room was clean. He'd picked up dinner on his way through town, so they wouldn't need to leave the inn to eat.

Adam woke up enough to stumble to the room. He looked dazed and confused, but allowed Ethan to get him to bed. The room had a microwave and a fridge, and they at least managed to get some food inside them.

Adam appeared to wake up a little, lying back on the bed and staring up at the ceiling. "What the fuck happened?" he asked.

Ethan wasn't sure if that was a rhetorical question, and he hesitated a little.

"I mean," Adam continued, "my brain is a mess, but that wasn't just a dream, that was a full-on panic attack."

"Maybe you're right with the leaflet, that it's because we're getting near Montana?" Ethan sat on the edge of his bed and waited for Adam's perspective on that.

"I don't know. You think I don't want to be in Montana? Like my brain is telling me it's not a good idea."

"Could be."

"Some kind of self-preservation," Adam mused. He moved a little to get comfy and let out a noisy sigh. Despite the panic attack, he looked a bit better today, although the orange lighting against the scarlet bed covers probably accounted for the warm tones in his skin.

"We're aiming for Billings tomorrow, then the ranch the day after."

"Is Billings far from wherever this is?"

"Beach," Ethan said.

"North Dakota." Adam nodded. "See, I remember all those kinds of things. I know geography, and I recall place names as I see them. But I don't know why I was able to tell the doctors about a place called Crooked Tree."

"Or the name Ethan."

Adam turned his head and smiled at Ethan, a soft smile that reached his eyes. "I'm guessing you meant a lot to me, and not even my fucked-up brain can put that in a box and close the lid."

"Maybe."

Ethan couldn't bear imagining that somehow, in all of what had happened to Adam—whatever that was—Adam had clung to a wispy memory of Ethan's name.

Like Ethan meant something to him.

Like Ethan was home .