Chapter 10
Hawk
T he past five years in a cage of steel and concrete did not make my memories of home fade. The cops would question my family, possibly watch the property too, awaiting my arrival, but this is far from the first time a Coleman has been on the run from the law. My family has had quite a bit of experience with that throughout the past century, so I keep away from main roads and approach the woodland at the back of the vast property. It’s getting dark, but I keep the car lights off as I move down the gravel road only ever used by the forest service. And us.
My eyes are strained from trying to find the spot I’m looking for. Back in the day, I remembered it by heart, but fortunately two of the trees close by remain marked, and I sigh in relief when I spot them. Soon enough, we will both get something to eat, and pillows to rest our heads.
Not that Sylvan needs a bed to fall asleep.
He looks so precious with his head against the window, curled up under a flowery blanket. His lips are parted, as if he’s already inviting more kisses, and his pale lashes lay against his sunburned skin. He reminds me of a white moth. Fragile, nocturnal, beautiful, but a little scary.
I’m already regretful about having to wake him up. The guy’s been through so much in the last twenty-four hours yet stood by me even after finding out I’m on the run from the cops. If that’s not a good sign for our future, I don’t know what is.
I believe at least some of what he told me about his family is grounded in reality, so I’m not surprised he escaped to la-la land after experiencing such loss.
I stop the car and listen, to make sure no other vehicle suddenly appears on the road. When I’m satisfied with the silence, I get out and dive between the trees, taking a lungful of fresh pine-scented air. I used to hate this part of the process, the need to exit the vehicle, push through bushes that never failed to scratch me or leave a spider in my hair, but now I relish the touch of leaves, and the crunch of old needles under my feet. Moments later, the hidden gate is open, and I drive through it, then carefully mask all traces of my presence. I even kick the gravel about to hide tire marks before returning to Sylvan, who hasn’t woken up throughout any part of the lengthy process.
My family and I haven’t always been on the best of terms, and none of them has ever set foot in any of the jails and prisons I’ve been in throughout the past five years, but they are blood. I can count on them when it matters.
As I make my way down the narrow road leading to the family property from the back, I hope the privilege of being one of the Colemans extends to me even now. After all, we have a code.
It takes around twenty minutes for the vehicle to approach the familiar compound, leaving behind the dense woodland and entering the clearing. A light comes on in one of the cabins, making me think they might have installed a motion sensor. Moments later, another window lights up, this time in the biggest house on the property, the one I know so well. The one my parents live in.
I lean over to Sylvan and push some hair off his forehead as I kiss his lips. If I have to wake him up, I want to do it gently.
Even after a whole day, he smells so fresh, like the rain, and dew on dense grass, and as I slide my finger over his pointy ear, his eyes open.
“Where… what?”
“We’ll be spending the night here,” I explain and kiss him again, but he pushes me away, sucking in air as he raises his hands, staring right past me.
I exhale and look over my shoulder, straight at the barrel of a shotgun pointed at us from behind the window.
“Have I really changed so much, Wolfie?” I ask, and the gun lowers, revealing my older brother’s face.
Wolf shakes his head. His hair is just as dark and shaggy as mine, but much longer. “Fuck me…” He takes a good long look at Sylvan. “No. You haven’t changed at all from what I’m seeing.”
I shrug and open the door, shaking Wolf’s hand as I step out. “I take it you already heard—”
“Did you abduct him?” my brother asks, leaning close as he whispers, and I feel my cheeks burn. “When did I ever do that kind of thing?”
Wolf rubs his face, blinking his eyes awake. “What am I supposed to think? You’re on the run from prison, and you show up here with some snowflake-looking kid.” His voice is lowered, but I still worry Sylvan might hear him as he gets out of the car from the other side.
“We just have… similar goals,” I mutter as a familiar silhouette appears on the porch alongside numerous other Colemans watching us from their homes.
This is exactly what I always tried to flee from.
“Is it him?” My father asks.
Wolf shrugs. “Sure is. And he has company.”
I pull Sylvan close as soon as he’s within reach and wave, acknowledging everyone. “Don’t you worry, I won’t stay long… but I do need to swap this car for another.” They’ll know what I mean.
Sylvan pulls on my shoulder so I lean down, and only then he whispers into my ear. “Do not tell them about my origins. They will not understand.”
This is actually for the better, because I’d have a hell lot more trouble explaining that my new boyfriend is an elven prince.
All the Coleman men are tall, but my father? He’s like a bear. About my height, but much broader around the middle, and with a much hairier face than mine. When he approaches, Sylvan steps back, and it makes me feel so protective of him I’m struggling against the need to pull him into my arms for a cuddle. Where he’s a toothpick, my dad is an oak tree.
“You better tell us everything and quick,” Father says with deep grooves appearing on his forehead. There are only a few lights around, but I still spot some new silver in his hair.
Before I can speak, Wolf decides to fill him in. “The kid’s also on the run.”
I don’t even get to clear up the misunderstanding when my other brother, Fox, butts in. “What? You brought your prison boy toy?”
“There’s nothing to see. Go to sleep!” Father hisses and looks around the cabins making up the compound. My brothers’ wives are visible in the windows of their respective homes. Leah’s even holding a child young enough for me to not have met.
This command makes me relax, and I rub Sylvan’s shoulder as the other members of my family retreat into their homes, surely back to forgetting about my existence.
“We just need a different car,” I repeat. “We’ll be on our way soon.”
Father crosses his thick arms on his chest, and as he studies me, I’m struck by the realization that at this point it’s like staring into a mirror revealing what I’m going to look like in twenty years.
I’m happy to conclude it won’t be too bad.
“The police were already here, looking for you,” Fox adds, combing his shaggy auburn mane with his fingers.
“You’ll need to go before dawn,” Father mutters.
I nod, disgruntled by how this is going so far. I don’t want Sylvan to see me for the black sheep I am. “Wolf, do you have the steel cutters?” I put my thumb under Sylvan’s collar to show him what needs done.
Fox wraps his arms on his chest and whistles, showing off the big gap between his front teeth. “The plot fuckin’ thickens.”
I sense Sylvan swallow against my finger. “I don’t think it will be possible to cut with regular tools.”
He’s got no idea that he just said the magic words to trigger Wolf’s ambition and can-do attitude. “Doesn’t look that thick to me, I’ll handle it.”
“Since when are they collaring inmates?” Fox asks, and I clear my throat.
“I actually… just met him yesterday. He wanted to go with me.”
Father rolls his eyes, slouches, and spins on his heel, heading for the house. “And now you brought him here! Did you lose what little was left of your brains?”
I swallow when Wolf smirks at me, then pull Sylvan along, not trusting myself to meet his eyes. We came here for a new piece of junk. Is that really so much to ask?
“I didn’t kill the guards—” I say on the way toward the porch.
“Shame,” Father cuts in and walks right into the living room I spent so many evenings in.
“Hawk!” my mother yells and pulls me into a big hug. At least someone’s happy to see me, even though she never visited me in prison either. She’s still in her pajamas and robe, long silver hair scattered over her shoulders. “I’ll make you two some food. Who is this?”
Sylvan makes a little bow with his head and gives a stiff smile. “My name is Sylvan.”
I hate the look my mother exchanges with Dad, but I ignore them and lead Sylvan to the sofa. “Those are my parents. And he is my partner,” I say, because while I’ve known him for about twenty-four hours now, I have no intention of parting from him in the near future. After all, I promised him my shadow, and all that weird shebang.
And he is super-hot.
Wolf grunts and steps right back outside “I don’t want to be around for that conversation. Lemme get the tools.”
Dad is the first to lose it, and slams his fist against the table so hard Sylvan flinches. “Your ‘partner’? This is exactly why you always get in trouble. You get a lucky shot escape, and you find yourself a new boy to fuck up your life on the same day?”
“Is that why you never visited?” I ask, meeting his gaze while Mom makes some noise in the kitchen, maybe unwilling to listen to this painful and embarrassing conversation.
“So you’re gay. I get it. In a way,” Father says, towering over us as he makes a convoluted gesture, likely meant to express how little he can imagine being attracted to another male. “But I don’t understand why you stupidly threw away your life for a pretty face. He wasn’t even blood. Who does that?”
Sylvan clears his throat and I’m already dreading how my dad will react to anything he might say. “We already share a bond that will soon be deeper than any blood relation can be.”
He looks like a diamond in mud on the beat-up leather sofa. He radiates beauty, and if only I manage to keep him, I will get to bask in that glow.
Fox sits at the table with one foot on another chair and raises his eyebrows. “Oh, so he’s crazy. Now it all makes sense.”
“Fuck you,” I growl and squeeze Sylvan’s hand, because he might not live quite in the same world as everyone else, but there’s logic to his actions, and when we reach Canada, maybe I can find help for him there?
Father shakes his head. “Nothing to say? The boy who put you behind bars is living a cushy life now. Last I heard, he bought a house on Fire Island.”
Free as a fucking bird and likely barely remembers me.
I rub my face. “Are you two done?”
“I will never be done,” Father growls as the soothing scent of cocoa reaches my nose. “You don’t do those things for people who can ditch you. Only family is worthy of sacrifice. And you don’t understand because you won’t have children, and you always wanted to leave us too. I’m surprised you even bothered to come over.”
“‘Cause he needs something,” Fox helpfully adds, and if I wasn’t holding Sylvan’s trembling fingers, I might be strangling my brother just about now. Does this mean Sylvan’s already making me a better person?
“I can assure you there will be no ditching anyone,” Sylvan says in a confident voice that doesn’t betray nerves the way his hand does. “Sometimes, you have to trust destiny, and it has brought us together for a reason. He will be mine.”
I know how it sounds to their ears, so I’m not surprised when Fox cackles like a hyena, and my father drags his massive hands down his face.
But I fucking love it. My heart tingles as if it were pumping champagne instead of blood. So maybe I have a weakness for pretty boys in trouble, and maybe it’s easy to impress me, but who wouldn’t want to feel special once in a while?
“It’s your own life you’re fucking up again. You are an adult,” Father says as Wolf enters the room with a pair of steel cutters. “We will get you the car, but you will be on your own after that. If this fancy little shit fucks you over, don’t you run to us for help.”
“He won’t,” I say, trying to control the anger flooding my veins.
As I turn to Sylvan, ignoring my father, I notice his expression has changed from the tense attempt at a smile to a cold glare. His pale pink lips have tightened into a tense line, and his blue eyes could cut my father in half if Sylvan really did wield magic. It’s a glimpse at a new side of him, but I’m not sure which one is the mask. The sweet smiles and innocent blushing, or the icy promise of cruelty?
His focus is gone the moment Wolf stands between him and my father with the cutters.
“Okay, lean your neck back against the sofa,” my brother instructs, eyeing the collar. “Is this some new kind of tag? Like an ankle monitor, but fancy?”
I shrug, hoping Wolf will decide he understood me and deal with the damn shackle. As the huge tool touches Sylvan’s neck he squeezes me harder with his sweaty hand, and I kiss the tip of his head as Mom enters bearing two mugs. One’s my favorite, huge and featuring a hawk mid-flight, the other is one of hers, with a view of the mountains.
“Are sandwiches all right?” she asks, offering me the cup of chocolate.
“Can you toast it for him?” Because I learned on the way about Sylvan’s preference for all things crunchy. Yet another adorable feature.
“Sure thing, sweetie,” Mom says and pats my shoulder before disappearing into the kitchen again.
“Please be careful,” Sylvan says, breathing hard when the jaws of the cutters close on the band around his neck.
Even though nothing bad will happen, and he’ll get a scratch at best, it still unnerves me to see him so vulnerable next to my brother. He really needs me. I can be important to him.
The thought alone makes my heart beat faster.
Wolf squeezes the cutters, making an unpleasant sound reminiscent of a screech, but the metal won’t budge. He tries again, and several violet sparks pop into the air as if in warning.
Wolf pulls back with a frown. “The fuck?”