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Chapter Fourteen

It’s gotten a bit chilly tonight, not entirely peculiar since it isn’t technically summer yet. But the sharp breeze is bringing everything into perspective.

Glancing down at the lifeless form on the ground, my vision swims with memories.

When I lift my hands, I see blood on them. But when I blink, it’s gone.

I didn’t do this… There’s no way.

Did I?

Pulling the small pipe out of my back pocket, I light it with the old familiar Zippo I’ve had for twenty-five years. The American flag on it is all worn out and chipped. I like it.

Sucking smoke into my lungs, I hold it. I hold on to it as long as I can until I physically can’t anymore, breathing the rest into the air. Lights twist and dissolve before my eyes, colors and shapes dipping into my vision. The forest is humming, and I kneel next to the body, head tilting, waiting for some answers.

I’ll find them, one way or another.

The whirring sound of an ATV engine grows nearer, and my stomach flips. Darian’s almost here.

I wonder what he’ll make of all this as I reach out and poke the body. It’s not fully cold yet, despite the drop in temperature. This happened recently.

For a moment, just a split second, the man’s head turns and his eyes connect with mine. They’re all red, possibly popped vessels or something…

You’re the one, he says to my mind, and I flinch. You’ve caused this.

It’s the only way.

The ATV pulls up a few feet away and I shake my head, blinking hard as I pocket my pipe. When I reopen my eyes, the man’s face is back in the dirt. Where it belongs.

Darian stomps over to me while I stand, then turns over his shoulder to Jasper who drove him here and barks, “Perimeter.”

Jasper nods. “Yes, sir.” Then he hops back on the ATV, driving off to go converge with the rest of the Tribe and do a perimeter check.

The fact is that we don’t know this person. He isn’t part of the Regnum, meaning he snuck onto the Expanse. And then got himself killed.

“What do you think?” Darian asks me, out loud for some reason, which I find interesting. As if he doesn’t already know what I’m thinking.

“My guess would be… ballsy hiker who decided to go for a mountain outside of the travel guides,” I tell him, leaving out a few key points he already knows.

“That’s it?” He leers at me, and I shrug.

“What else do you want me to say?” I squint at him. He seems strange right now, and I can’t put my finger on it.

“Alright, then. Just take care of it and make sure no one finds out,” he grumbles, fidgeting in place.

“I’m sorry.” I fold my arms over my chest, facing him. “Did I disrupt you with this unexpected dead body on our mountain?”

He glares at me, jaw tightening visibly. “I was busy.”

“With what?”

“Is it your business?” He bites, and it’s then that I notice his lips… all pink and puffy. His hair looks run-through by fingers, too.

Maybe his own… or maybe someone else’s.

My brow lifts as I study the look on his face. He’s having trouble making eye contact, and it’s obvious he’s forcing himself not to think about something… to hide it from me.

“I’m sorry, I’m just…” he breathes, rubbing his jaw with his fingers. “I’m worried. This is the third body this year. Second who isn’t one of our own…”

“It’s the balance, Darian—”

“I told you to stop with that shit,” he barks at me, quietly. “I won’t accept that.”

“You have no choice,” I tell him with certainty. “I’ve been studying this for years. I think I know a little more than you.”

“We get it, Drake. You’re a genius,” he rumbles, and it makes me smirk. But my gut twists at the flush in his cheeks… It was like that when he got here.

He was with someone tonight.

Was it Abdiel?

Darian’s eyes dart to mine, and he gives me a severe look. Don’t.

“There’s something else.” I change the subject on an exhale. “Come.”

We walk the trail, a path leading to a secret spot between the lab and my cabin. I pull out my walkie. “Lorn. Burn the body.”

Lorn radios back the ten-four as Darian and I walk in silence. The chill in the air brushes my skin, telling me things.

The forest whispers on this mountain, and using the white trumpets is the only thing that helps me understand what it wants. Darian is in denial about it, but I know the truth.

There’s a gateway up here. An opening.

We keep walking for a half-mile to the small shack, and as I open the door for Darian, his eyes turn reprimanding. I sigh and give him a shrug, to which he shakes his head, stepping inside as I close the door behind us.

This hunting shack is really just a decoy. There isn’t much inside, extra tools and some farming equipment, but its actual purpose is beneath the false floorboards. I move them aside and take out my keys, opening the trapdoor and motioning for Darian to climb down first. He doesn’t look pleased as he descends the steep stone steps into our manmade dungeon, with me right behind.

It’s much colder down here, obviously, and I catch Darian tugging his coat tighter around himself as he walks toward the cells. There are only three of them. We’ve never needed more. Actually, we’ve only ever used two at a time.

Things work out well for us here on the Expanse, the reasoning two-fold. The surface reason is Darian. He’s a dedicated, kind, and diplomatic leader. The people love and respect him. They even idolize him in a sense, so we have few problems with the Regnum breaking any rules of our society.

But beneath all of that poster for The Principality shit is the real reason why things work out here, and that’s me.

Me and my guys, the Tribe, who work tirelessly to protect this place and these people at all costs, keeping any and all defectors out of public knowledge. I’m a big proponent of what the people don’t know won’t hurt them. Secrets are a part of life, and I’ve accumulated quite the collection.

I designed the dungeon a few months into us forming The Principality. I was convinced that at some point we might need to lock someone up, and as much as Darian hated the idea, and has continued to fight me on it for decades, I was right.

Case in point, the worthless sack of shit we’re staring at right now, lying in a puddle of his own blood and piss. Darian gives me the side-eye, though it’s nothing compared to the angry tone I’m getting from his thoughts.

Where did he come from?

I shrug. Not sure. But Xander caught him in the Field.

Darian’s face turns to mine. He was trying to steal the seedlings? They’re just babies.

I know, I chuckle in my mind, shaking my head. What a moron.

Darian faces the prisoner once more. Or maybe he planned to clone them.

He doesn’t strike me as a master grower.

So you think someone sent him? Darian sounds worried. I hate it, and it makes me want to mash this asshole’s face with my fist some more until he stops breathing from his thieving lungs.

That’s what I’m trying to find out…

“Drake,” he sighs, his crystal eyes sparkling at me, lighting up the darkness. “You don’t have to.”

“See, that’s where you’re wrong, brother,” I say with conviction. “I’m the one.”

Darian swallows, the sight of his Adam’s apple bobbing giving me some thoughts I immediately push away.

He was with someone tonight… And I don’t know how that makes me feel.

“Hey… please… let me out,” the prisoner gurgles, crawling up to the bars that separate us. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, please.”

“I know you will,” I growl at him, then turn back to Darian. “I’m sorry I interrupted your night.”

He gives me a guilty look that cuts me so deep, I immediately storm away from him, leaving the dark, dreary place I created, the piece of shit I’m going to kill later, and my brother… The only person I would stop at absolutely nothing to protect.

Even if it means damning myself in the process.

“Darian,” I whisper in the dark, my breathing ragged and my movements jittery as I shake him where he sleeps. “Get up. We have to go.”

“Huh?” His sleepy voice croaks at me as he rolls over in my bed, rubbing his eyes open. They’re still red-rimmed from crying himself to sleep.

I stayed in my bed next to him for a while, just watching over him, my protective gaze never once leaving my brother while he sniffled and shuddered. He tried for a while to act hard; unaffected, like a man thinks he should. But we’re still only teenagers. He’s fifteen… He can only be so sturdy while he’s bent and crippled and warped before he eventually cracks.

That’s what happened earlier, and I convinced him to sleep in my bed, so I could make sure he was alright and keep him safe. From him, sure, but also from himself. I’m not sure if Darian would ever harm himself, but tonight I saw something in his eyes I’d definitely never seen before.

He looked broken. Guilty when he shouldn’t be, torn up when he’s the last person on Earth who deserves to hurt this way.

It created a hatred in me so strong, there was no way it could be avoided. So I waited for him to fall asleep. And then I did what I had to do.

And now we have to go.

“You gotta get up.” I keep shaking him because he’s still half asleep. “I packed a bag for you. We have to go. Now.”

“Go where?” He asks, eyes widening more, now appearing beyond worried. He sits up, his shirtless chest catching my attention for a moment.

I blink it away and grab his hoodie off the floor, tossing it at him. “Get dressed. We need to leave. We can’t stay here anymore. I won’t let you stay here for one more second, Darian.”

He gapes at me for a beat in stunned silence before slipping his long arms into the hoodie and zipping it up. “We can’t just leave, Drake. What about school? What about—”

“I don’t give a fuck about any of that,” I bark, keeping my voice down, mainly because it’s shaking and I don’t want him to know that. “We can’t stay, Dar. Let’s go. I’m getting you out of here.”

“Where would we even go?” Trepidation still lines his tone, though he’s getting up now, crawling off the bed to step into his sweatpants.

“I have a few ideas,” I tell him, stuffing some remaining items into my backpack before moving the desk aside to locate my cash stash. “But first thing’s first… We need to bounce.”

Pulling out the little pouch, I open it up and count the bills quickly, doing math in my head.

“Jesus, Drake,” Darian huffs. “How much money is that? Where did you get it?”

“It’s about eight grand,” I grumble in frustration. We definitely need more, but there’s nothing I can do about that now. “I’ve been saving since I was little. Squirreling away.” Stealing from the foster dipshits. And others.

“That’s awesome!” Darian gasps. “Let’s get a hotel! Ooh, maybe one with a pool and a Jacuzzi!”

My face pivots in his direction and the sheer look of excitement on his formerly devastated face is enough to bring all the warmth to my chest.

I smirk and shake my head. “Let’s just go. Hurry up. Put your shoes on.”

Darian does what I ask without any further question or argument. We clear out our necessities, and I hustle him out of the bedroom as quietly as possible, practically pushing him toward the stairs. His face goes instinctively to their bedroom, but I keep shoving him so he can’t look that way.

Once we’re downstairs, I grab us as many bottles of water and Gatorade as I can, raiding the cabinets for snacks I can fit into a spare bag.

“What if they find out…?” Darian’s nervously shaky voice catches my attention. I turn, finding him practically hugging himself inward, eyes locked on the staircase. “It’ll just make it worse…”

“No,” I snap at him, and his eyes fling to mine. “Never again, Darian. I told you. Never fucking again. That’s why we’re leaving, and that’s why we have to do it right now.”

He takes a deep breath and nods.

And then we leave. We sneak out the backdoor, cutting in between houses, avoiding the roads. Kara’s working the overnight shift, but she’ll be home in a couple of hours. Once she gets home, all hell will break loose.

We need to be far away from here by then.

We take the QLine to the bus station, where I buy us tickets to as far as we can get; Denver.

“Denver?” Darian hums while we stand outside, waiting for the next bus, which doesn’t leave for another hour. We’re cutting it close, but it’s shady enough around here that I think we’ll be able to get onto the bus with no one being any the wiser. It’s a risk, which is why I keep my hood up the entire time, and urge Darian to do the same. “What’s in Denver?”

“I don’t know.” I shrug. “Mountains.”

“You and your mountains,” he chuckles. It’s amazing to see him smiling. He’s so damn strong, I can’t believe it.

“Maybe we won’t stay in Denver, but it’s just… nowhere near here. And that’s where we need to go. Fucking away from this shithole.”

Darian nods, though I can see the pain in his eyes as he angles his chin to the ground. I pull a pack of cigarettes out of my pocket and stick two in my mouth, lighting them both at once, and handing one to him. He doesn’t really smoke much, since he’s all athletic and shit, but he needs it right now.

He takes it and we smoke in silence for a few minutes. My mind is so busy running through a plan, forcing away the memories of what happened tonight that I almost miss it.

A little sniffle. But it catches my ear, and I tense.

“Hey.” I move up to Darian, crowding him so he has to look at me. “Don’t worry. It’s fine. You’re safe now.”

He’s fucking shivering so hard I can hear his teeth chattering, his hands shaking so bad he drops the cigarette on the ground. He sputters for air, and I toss my cigarette, grabbing him quick. Wrapping my arms around him, I hold him tightly while he breaks the fuck down.

“Darian, breathe,” I whisper, my hand cupping the back of his head. “He can’t get to you again. I promise. I swear on my life, he’ll never hurt you again.”

“H-how do you kn-know?” He buries his face in my neck, tears soaking my flesh. “You can’t p-promise that, Drake.”

“Yes… I can.” My voice comes out firm; certain. His face lifts, our eyes meeting and sticking together, unable to break the bond no matter how hard I feel like I should look away.

His bottom lip is all pouty, and I can see it quivering, which brings my attention to the fact that I’m watching his mouth now, not his eyes.

I swallow hard as a strange sensation slinks around in the pit of my stomach. I’ve felt it before when looking at Darian… Seeing him change, or come out of the bathroom in a towel. I always assumed it was discomfort. Because I shouldn’t be looking at a guy like that, especially not my foster brother. My best friend.

But now it doesn’t feel like a sickness as much as it feels like the cure.

Darian licks his lip. I’m still holding him, molding his strong body to mine, and I don’t think we should be doing this… We shouldn’t be touching like this.

“Dar, I’m sorry…” I whisper. “I should let go…”

“I-I don’t…” He doesn’t finish his sentence, though I can almost hear him saying, I don’t want you to.

But eventually, we pull apart. He goes to the bathroom to fix himself up, then we chain-smoke more cigarettes until the bus comes.

Once on board, we get settled in the back, preparing for our roughly twenty-hour journey. This bus will take us to Kansas City, then we have to transfer, which could be dangerous. Hopefully not.

I refuse to let Darian know I’m worried. I don’t need to add any more stress to his plate.

But I’m torn. I don’t know if I should tell him what I did, or if I should leave him in the dark. Like plausible deniability.

Darian falls asleep fast while my mind races, his head propped on my shoulder. I take a small throw blanket out of my bag and drape it over him. A guy gives us a look as he walks past to the bathroom shaking his head, and I glare at him, silently warning him to look somewhere else before I end his miserable homophobic existence.

This world is a disgusting place. I barely even want to stay in this country. Maybe we can go somewhere farther, like Norway, or Scotland or some shit. Somewhere better.

My head flops back against the seat. It’s futile. This entire planet is bullshit. The amount of damage humanity does is staggering. No animals kill each other more than the human race. I guess I would know…

Capitalism and war, famine and pollution, rape and murder, child abuse and sex trafficking.

I don’t want to be a part of it anymore. I wish we could go somewhere else entirely. A different planet or universe…

Eventually, I fall asleep, clutching Darian on one side, hand gripping my knife on the other.

Someone must be watching out for us because we get to Denver with no issues.

Unfortunately, though, Darian has slipped into some kind of depression, and I’m desperate to get him out of it. I thought the best idea, the best way to stretch our funds as long as possible would be to get a tent and camp out. It’s still pretty chilly, but summer will be here in a couple of months. We can make it. I know we can.

But when I float the idea to Darian, he’s sort of unresponsive. We’ve been in a diner for the past two hours, nursing our sodas while I read a map and figure out the easiest way to get us to the sporting goods store, then to an off-the-grid camping area.

“Dar, I know you miss school and the football team, but trust me when I tell you it has to be like this. At least for now,” I mumble at him, watching his face as he zones out.

“It’s not that,” he grunts, tearing the wrapper from his straw into a million pieces. “I don’t care about football. It was just something to help me feel normal.”

I gulp. “Being normal is overrated. And stupid.” He scoffs. “All the best people are freaks.”

A small smile tugs at his lips, but he pushes it away, finally glancing up at me. “You know I actually convinced myself that I liked it? I mean, I think I kind of did…” His voice trails, and he shakes it off. “And the first thing I thought when you told me we were leaving was that I was gonna miss him.” He breathes out hard and closes his eyes for a second. “How fuckin pathetic is that?”

“You’re not pathetic, Darian. He is,” I growl from across the table. “He’s a fucking perverted scumbag who manipulated you and made you feel like it was right. The way you reacted, that wasn’t your—”

“Just stop,” he cuts me off, rubbing his eyes hard. “Can we get out of here? The smell of greasy food is making me nauseous.”

I stare at him for a moment, despondent and unsure of what I could do to help him. I just want to fix him, and I have no idea how.

I suppose first thing’s first. “Okay.” I nod and signal the waitress for the check.

But then an idea pops up. Checking the map and the tourist guides, I grin to myself.

This is perfect.

We pay and leave the diner, taking a cab to our new destination. One pit stop before the mountain…

When we arrive, Darian’s glum face morphs into one more bemused. “What is this?”

We both step out of the cab, and I grin. “The fanciest hotel I could find that would take cash. And yes, they have an indoor pool and a Jacuzzi.”

Darian’s face lights up, and he turns to purse his lips at me. “I know you’re just trying to cheer me up.”

“Is it working?” I smirk, and he laughs.

“Yea. Definitely.”

We check into our hotel room for the night. It’s nothing too extravagant, but certainly nicer than anywhere either of us have ever been. The Jacuzzi is actually in the room. Apparently, all the suites come with one. Only problem is that they only had single rooms available, so we’ll be sharing a bed. It shouldn’t be a big deal, since we’re brothers, but for some reason it’s all I can think about for the rest of the afternoon.

That is, until I see how amped Darian is to chill by the pool. We spend all day in there, alternating between driving people crazy doing cannonballs you’re not supposed to do, and lounging in the chairs set up around the pool. By the time we come up to the room again, we’re all wrinkly. But Darian still wants to use the Jacuzzi.

I opt out, because while it claims to fit four people, it seems a little more intimate than I’m prepared for. Darian goes in and closes the door, and even though I know he’s had a great day and has been smiling nonstop, I’m still on edge. I can’t stop worrying about him, and eventually, I forgo trying to read and knock on the bathroom door.

“Dar?” I put my ear up to it. “You okay?”

“Yea… I think.” His voice sounds small and insecure, which is so unlike him, it only serves to trouble me more.

“Can I come in?” I ask, not wanting to intrude on his alone time, but I can’t help feeling like I need to watch over him every second.

“Sure,” he grumbles.

Opening the door, I step inside the room, my eyes falling to where he’s propped in the Jacuzzi tub. They widen immediately, and I slap my hands over them.

“Jesus, Darian! You’re naked!”

He laughs out loud. “Uh, yea. What did you expect, I was gonna wear my boxers in the damn hot tub?”

“What the hell, dude?? I saw your dick,” I mumble, fidgeting where I stand because now the image won’t leave my brain.

“I didn’t ask you to come in,” he points out.

“I wanted to make sure you’re alright,” I admit. “I just want to be here for you.”

“You are here for me, Drake,” he says, and I peek between my fingers to look at his face. “You’re the only one who is. You’re all I have…”

Swallowing my emotions, I’m struggling not to feel like a total chick, though I can’t help it right now. “You’re all I have, too.”

We’re quiet for a moment, some strange tension building in the air, suffocating me as if the walls of the bathroom are closing in, until he says, “Can you hand me a towel? I would just get out, but apparently, you don’t like looking at my dick.”

I force a laugh that feels harder to get out than it should and hand him the towel, leaving him alone in the bathroom.

By the time he gets dressed, I’ve ordered a pizza and picked it up from the lobby. Darian is sitting on the bed in his sweats and t-shirt, chestnut hair damp and tousled around. It has me grinding my jaw for unknown reasons while I serve us up some food. We eat in silence, watching bad TV, and by midnight, he’s passed out next to me.

I’m trying to keep as much distance between us as possible, but Darian sleeps sprawled out, taking up the whole damn bed. As I lie flat on my back, I keep my arms at my sides. And despite how loud my thoughts are, I eventually manage to fall into an uneasy sleep.

I wake up stiflingly hot in the dark. The clock across the room reads three-fifteen to my groggy eyes, and when I go to kick the blankets away from me to get some air, I realize it’s not a blanket covering me at all.

It’s my foster brother.

And not only is he wrapped around me in his sleep, but he’s sort of grinding his hips against mine. It takes only another moment for my fuzzy brain to acknowledge the hard shape he’s pushing into me, dragging in long, fluid strokes while he breathes out sharp breaths on my chest.

His hand is resting dangerously close to my crotch, my own erection so hard it’s visible through my sweats. Gulping down my shame, I look over his face to find his eyes closed, lips parted just a bit. He’s clearly sleeping, having a dream about someone else.

I’m sure it has nothing to do with me, but then that idea stabs me in the chest like a sharp blade between my ribs. He could be dreaming about a girl from school… Maybe he has a girlfriend and he just never told me.

Though the more I think about it, the more it dawns on me that Darian has never mentioned a girl to me before, ever. Even when I’ve remarked on girls we know, or celebrities I wouldn’t mind sticking my dick in, he always just laughs along and gives me that admonishing Darian headshake.

My mind is floating around all these things while he pants and writhes into me…

Maybe he’s just shy.

Or maybe he likes guys…

A memory comes back, something I never thought about until right now.

From school. I met up with Darian after practice, and I remember the smile he gave one of his teammates. His eyes lingered on the guy as he turned away…

My mouth is suddenly dry as a bone.

Darian’s gay.

Not that it matters. I wouldn’t judge him either way. Even though I’m straight…

I’m totally straight. Right?

The problem, though, is that my dick is beyond hard right now. It’s like a rock.

This could just be a morning wood type situation… But something about that thought doesn’t feel right. And now my entire life since puberty is flashing before my eyes.

I developed later than most of the guys we know. I was fourteen when I shot up to almost six feet, and then I still didn’t stop until pretty much this year. While everyone else has been thinking and talking about sex for years, for me it only just started.

So maybe I don’t know what I like… Maybe I could like guys, too.

In this moment, for sure, the feeling of Darian pressing his hard dick into me is euphoric, in an uncomfortable kind of way.

And then I remember something he started saying earlier, in the diner.

I convinced myself I liked it. I sort of did…

He thought he liked what that asshole did to him… That prick probably justified what he was doing, making Darian think he enjoyed it because his body responded.

Is that what I’m doing now??

No no no. We’re not like that. He’s my brother and my best friend.

I need to stop him. Wake him up before something bad happens.

I try to roll away, but there’s no room, and I end up rolling right off the bed. And unfortunately, we’re so tangled that Darian comes with me, landing on top of me on the floor.

“Fuck,” I grunt, breathlessly because he sort of hit my balls a little with the fall. They’re aching something fierce now.

Darian blinks himself awake and looks around. “What the hell happened?? Why are we on the floor?”

“Um, we must have… fallen.” I can’t help sounding like an idiot. My face is warm as fuck, and it doesn’t look good. My cock is still hard, and so is his. They’re just resting together like old pals.

Darian notices fast and backs up. And when he does, his erection drags on mine, and it feels so fucking good I can’t help the little gasp that flees my lips.

He looks startled, glancing between us at our dicks, then back up to my flushing face. And rather than moving away or looking horrified, he does something completely unexpected.

He does it again.

A pleasure unlike anything I’ve experienced before, with someone other than my hand, rushes through my loins, and I bite my lip to keep in any more embarrassing sounds. His eyes are twinkling down at me, his lips looking especially full and pouty while his tongue swipes the bottom.

He presses his hips into mine, and this time we both groan, quietly, watching one another without saying a word. My entire body is balmy. Burning hot, in fact. So much so that I’m sweating through my clothes, but I can’t stop myself from rutting upward to get more of whatever this incredible friction is.

I never thought another hard dick rubbing mine would feel so good, but it’s delicious. I don’t want to stop.

That is, until Darian leans forward, and for one brief, terrifying moment I think he might kiss me. And the thing is, even though I know it’s probably a bad idea, and it scares the shit out of me, my eyes close, and I await the feeling of those soft lips on mine.

But it doesn’t happen. Instead, he nestles his face in my neck and shivers. “I can’t… I can’t stop thinking about it.”

I already know what he’s talking about. He doesn’t need to elaborate.

My heart, regardless of how black and blue, how diseased it is in my chest, is still breaking for my brother as I wrap my arms around him, holding him tight.

“I’m sorry…” he whispers, and I just squeeze him tighter, silently telling him to shut the fuck up.

No apologies. Ever.

We lie on the floor for hours, until sun peeks through the curtains of our hotel suite, just breathing, my hands brushing his back, combing through his hair. Comforting him, trying desperately to put him back together with the love that asshole stole.

After a while, he whispers, “I read about this lake in a magazine once… in Washington state. It’s by a mountain.” His voice holds a certain amount of wonder I hope will always be there when he speaks. “It looked like magic.” He lifts his face to peek down at me. “We should go there. You can have your mountain, and I can have the lake. We can go there and forget about everything else. We can start a new life.”

Gazing up at him, my fingers slip down to his chest, feeling his heart beat calmly beneath them. I count each one, each thump of his pulse until it’s time for me to nod.

“Let’s go.”

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