FIFTEEN MILES

Miles is breathing heavily, leaning back on his hands as he watches Kieran lock the door and tug the curtains shut. He looks shaken, which is, to say the least, abnormal for Kieran. Miles doesn"t think he can ever remember seeing Kieran this worked up, not even when they were locked in that disgusting little room in Dr. Grace"s basement.

That would be bad enough, but what makes it worse is that Miles has no idea what made Kieran panic. He just started running, yanking Miles through the forest along with him, and he"s hardly said a word since they got back to the bungalow.

When he finally turns to face Miles, Miles sees his sleeve is tattered, the hem torn. Blood is leaking sluggishly down toward his wrist.

"You"re bleeding," Miles gasps, standing from the bed and stepping closer.

It doesn"t look bad, no more than a scratch, really, but it"s enough to have Miles" breathing picking up again.

"What?" Kieran mumbles, looking down at Miles almost absently.

Miles reaches out, gently brushing the tips of his fingers over the torn sleeve of Kieran"s shirt, looking up at the man, confused and worried.

"You"re bleeding, Kieran," he says, slowly.

Kieran glances at the scratch but doesn"t pay it much attention, his eyes immediately finding Miles" again.

"Are you ok?" Kieran asks, seeming to come back to himself a little.

"I"m fine," Miles tells him, brows furrowing. "Go sit on the bed, ok? I"ll patch up your arm."

Kieran is unusually obedient, letting Miles lead him to the bed and sitting down without a fuss. Miles has seen Chloe bandage his scrapes often enough to know that Kieran always insists he"s fine. He must be really out of it.

Miles thinks over what happened as he rummages around under the sink, remembering there should be a first aid kit somewhere. He finds it as he replays everything, trying in vain to come up with anything that could have scared Kieran so much. Making his way back to the bed, damp washcloth and bandages in hand, Miles finds Kieran still sitting there, just kind of staring off into space.

He looks over when Miles sits down beside him, watching blankly as blood is dabbed from his skin. Miles was right, at least—it"s hardly more than a scrape, which makes him feel a little better.

He looks up with a reassuring smile on his face, but it falters for a moment when he sees just how close Kieran is. He blushes, immediately returning his gaze to Kieran"s arm.

"Want to tell me what spooked you so bad?"

"The mask," Kieran answers.

Miles waits for him to continue as he dabs antibiotic ointment onto the scratch, but he doesn"t say anything else.

"What about it?" Miles asks, glancing at him in confusion as he picks a bandage out of the kit.

"You didn"t recognize it?" Kieran asks. When Miles looks up at him, shaking his head, Kieran shifts anxiously. "It looked just like the one from that painting in the library. The clearing, the torches, everything. What if Blackwood actually plays that lizard game?"

Miles laughs, shaking his head and grinning up at Kieran as he sets the bandage in place and tosses the wrapping in the trash.

"Kieran, it"s a game about handkerchiefs," he says, chuckling through his words as he gets up to replace the first aid kit. "Who cares if he plays it?"

"You can"t tell me the way he talked about it wasn"t creepy," Kieran pushes, standing from the bed as Miles leans against the bathroom door.

"Yeah, of course it was. He"s a creep, that"s why we"re here," Miles scoffs. "Creeps are usually creepy."

Kieran rubs his hand over his face, and he looks like he"s struggling to find words. When he just sighs, Miles looks at him, concerned.

"He already said no one knows what the game even means," Miles points out, confusion still warring with worry. "How could anyone be playing it?"

Kieran seems to think it"s important, but Miles just can"t figure out why. He feels like he"s missing something, but Kieran doesn"t say anything, just sighs and shakes his head. Miles watches as he heads toward the door, opening it to let the night breeze in. He looks frustrated, but he doesn"t scold Miles, doesn"t even frown at him.

"Just…lock your door, Miles," he says quietly. "Good night."

And with that, he"s gone, the door clicking closed softly behind him. Miles stares at the door for a long several moments, confusion filling his head, but he finally double-checks to make sure it"s locked, then pulls the curtains closed and crawls into bed.

***

He sleeps fitfully, waking up every half hour and glaring at the clock on his nightstand. This morning isn"t going any better, and his nerves are shot. The upside is that it"s a day off for him, and while he was expected on set, he didn"t have to actually do anything, since today is for filming background actors and location shots. The downside is that he"s now sitting beside Desmond Blackwood himself on an incredibly fancy golf cart, being carted away from the set.

Blackwood showed up halfway through the morning, and Octavia had pawned both Miles and Kieran off without a second thought.

Kieran is in another golf cart that"s rumbling along behind Miles and Blackwood, stacked in between Phoenix and Yuri.

Blackwood is laying it on thick, and Miles is trying his best to smile and giggle and flutter his lashes when appropriate, but he"s still shaken up from last night. He feels somehow like Blackwood knows, even if there"s been no hint of reprimand or even an acknowledgment of his explorations with Kieran the night before. They drive along trails that Miles didn"t know existed, Blackwood pointing at seemingly random areas throughout the forest and saying that one animal usually lives around here, another around there.

Miles sees neither hide nor hair of anything save a few songbirds and a single chipmunk the entire time they"re out there.

Half of the ride, he"s too focused on the feeling of Phoenix glaring holes through his skull to pay much attention to what Blackwood is saying. The one thing he does manage to glean from the whole thing is that the forest is fucking huge. Miles keeps his eyes peeled, but he doesn"t see any other weird bunkers or hidden staircases.

"This whole place is so beautiful," Miles gushes, looking around wide-eyed at the tropical landscape.

"It"s something I only show dear friends of mine," Blackwood says, winking at him as he places a hand over Miles" knee and squeezes.

"Yuri and Teddy are lucky to be able to see this so often," Miles adds, trying not to pull away from the hand on his knee. "How did you meet them?"

Blackwood laughs, and it almost sounds fond, but there"s something dark mixed in that Miles can"t quite put his finger on.

"I meet a lot of interesting characters in my line of work."

Miles doesn"t press, knowing an evasive answer when he hears one.

"What about Phoenix?" he continues lightly, glancing back. "Does he work for you?"

"Phoenix?" Blackwood asks, that awful grin splitting his face again. "He"s not in my employ, no. My dear Phoenix is my key to everything."

Miles pauses for a second, stopping himself from asking stupid questions. That phrase, from anyone else, might have been affectionate, but it almost sounds controlling on Blackwood"s tongue. Like a statement of ownership.

Miles doesn"t have time to really process any of that before they"re exiting the forest, Blackwood parking the golf cart in a little driveway by one of the side entrances to the mansion. Phoenix parks behind them, and the other three men climb out of their own golf cart, walking over to join Miles and Blackwood.

"My deepest apologies," Blackwood crows, grinning bashfully. "Many of the lovely creatures I house are nocturnal, and the rest tend to be very shy. I can"t abide keeping beautiful things in cages, so catching a glimpse of anything is a matter of luck."

Miles shakes his head, leaning into Blackwood"s arm and smiling up at him as sweetly as he can manage.

"It was just fun to spend time with you," he says, trying not to cringe at the words.

"We really appreciate you giving us a tour," Kieran adds, although his smile looks a little strained. "You"ve made yourself a beautiful home here."

Blackwood preens under the praise, his hand sliding down Miles" back and stopping just short of indecent. His eyes are dark in the corners when he looks down at Miles, and Miles does his best not to stiffen and pull away.

"Let me make up for the lack of a show with drinks," Blackwood offers. "I have a small group of friends joining me shortly. I"d feel awful sending you home without any fun when there"s plenty to be had."

Miles blinks, glancing at Kieran, but nods in agreement before the other man can say anything. Kieran has made it very clear that Miles is essentially in charge here, and they need to get as close to Blackwood as they can.

"Drinks sound great," he assents, fluttering his lashes up at Blackwood.

God, he can"t wait until he can stop all this stupid fake flirting and go back to scowling at his guitar for twenty hours a day. Acting is fucking exhausting.

He has no idea how Kieran does it.

Blackwood leads them inside, and they wind up in a lavish sitting room across from the dining room they stayed in the last time they were here. A table of drinks is already set up, butlers scurrying about to put the final touches of artfully arranged fruits and beautiful desserts along the table. Miles glances at the drinks distrustfully, but Blackwood leads the group over and grabs a glass, so Miles follows suit.

"Miles, come sit with me," Blackwood says, gesturing to a plush sofa.

Miles turns, intending to do just that, and then he"s crashing into someone, the wine in his glass sloshing over and soaking the front of his shirt.

"Shit!" he gasps, eyes widening in shock.

"Fuck, I"m so sorry," Phoenix says, stepping back. "I didn"t see you there."

Yuri laughs disbelievingly from the side, and Miles makes fleeting eye contact with Kieran. He has no doubt it was intentional, Phoenix has been sneering at him all day, and even now, there"s a dark look of disgust in his eyes.

"Let me show you to my restroom," Phoenix says smoothly. "I"m sure one of my shirts will fit you. I"ll get yours cleaned and return it to you."

Miles hesitates, thrown entirely off kilter by the whole thing, wine drying sticky on his chest, but before he can decline, Phoenix wraps a hand around his forearm and starts tugging him out of the room. Blackwood looks at the pair of them hungrily, but doesn"t say anything, and Miles looks back at Kieran in worry just as the door closes between them, leaving him and Phoenix alone in the hallway.

Phoenix doesn"t speak to him, nor does he let Miles go until they reach a door with a thumbprint lock, several hallways away.

The door unlocks with a quiet beep, and Phoenix leads Miles into a bedroom. Miles immediately stiffens as the door closes behind them, but Phoenix drops his arm and heads over to the closet, rifling through and pulling out a satin burgundy button-down.

"It"ll make your eyes pop," he says blandly, holding the shirt out to Miles. "Bathroom"s over there."

Miles pauses for probably longer than he should before reaching out to take it.

"Thanks," he says hesitantly.

He turns to walk toward the bathroom, but he almost doesn"t want to turn his back on Phoenix. It feels kind of like he"s being stalked by a hunter, and the second he turns to run, Phoenix will take chase.

Miles sighs in relief when he closes the bathroom door between them, shaking the weird feeling off and stripping out of his shirt and tie. They"re both soaked, but thankfully, his pants are mostly dry. He looks at the tie pin, worried. It"s probably ruined, but his belt buckle only has a few drops of slowly drying wine on it, so he hopes it"s still functional. Slipping the tie pin into his pocket, he gets to wiping his chest down, getting the sticky film of alcohol off his skin.

The shirt fits him almost perfectly, which is unsettling, but he guesses that"s why he was picked for this in the first place. He and Phoenix really do look like they could be brothers.

Tucking in the shirt, he steps out of the bathroom, ready to play innocent again, but when he meets Phoenix"s eyes, a shiver runs down his spine. He realizes then that the feeling he gets from Phoenix looking at him isn"t that of being stalked. It"s warning, blaring bright and terrified, at the base of his skull.

As he looks at Phoenix, sitting casually on the bench at the end of his bed, it suddenly clicks into place.

"It was you," Miles whispers quietly. "Wasn"t it?"

Phoenix raises a bored brow, rakes his gaze over Miles, and sighs.

"What was me?"

Miles scoffs, annoyance settling under his jaw as the shock wears off.

"On the beach," he sneers, stepping forward. "In Ethan"s bungalow. It was you."

Phoenix is silent, just staring at Miles. His eyes are empty, a muscle in his jaw ticking, and Miles knows he"s on to something.

"What do you want?" he pushes. "Are you trying to scare us off? Tell us something?"

Phoenix rolls his eyes then, and he suddenly looks very weary, far too weary for someone as young as he is. He looks almost like he feels sorry for Miles. It"s a weird juxtaposition.

"Look, Desmond is a dangerous man," he sighs, glancing away for a moment. "You and your little boyfriend should keep your noses out of other people"s business. He has control over people much more influential than either of you." Miles is silent as he leans in, and the look in his eyes shifts to something almost genuine. "Just keep your head down and get out while you can."

Miles blinks at him, baffled, his head whirling as he tries to make things click into place in his mind.

"Why stick around if he"s so dangerous? Does he have something on you, too?" Miles asks, his voice dropping to a worried whisper.

"It"s not that simple," Phoenix says, smiling bitterly. "I…owe him everything."

Miles shakes his head, reaching out to grab Phoenix"s wrist, but the other man shakes him off immediately, scowling at him.

"I can help you get out of here," Miles tells him insistently. "You just have to tell me."

"You can"t. I don"t want to get out." His voice is sad even as he laughs, but there"s a note of aching, sorrowful truth in it. "It"s different for you, alright? You"re not built for this. Leave us alone, or you"ll wind up regretting it."

Miles" head spins in frustration, but the words aren"t a threat. They sound like both a warning and a plea, and Miles watches in hopeless confusion as Phoenix heads toward the door, pulling it open and nodding toward the hallway.

"Let"s go back," Phoenix says.

Miles has no idea what else to do, so he allows his feet to lead him back down the hallway behind Phoenix.

Apparently, their conversation is over. Time to join the fray again.