30. How Do You Know?
30
HOW DO YOU KNOW?
GHOST
Director called a meeting that starts in thirty minutes, but I still haven’t left Killian’s room. I wouldn’t say I slept, but I drifted in and out, and when I came to, we were back-to-back like we were at the hotel. It’s not my natural instinct, but I offer to change his bandages and help him clean his wounds, but when he denies me, claiming he’s going to see Medic right after the meeting, my teeth clench.
I’m not the fucking caregiver type! So why does it piss me off that he won’t let me fix him?
He smiles at me, his new teeth even prettier than his old ones. Only a few of them are implants, but they give his charming smile a whole new edge that sets me off. “Oh, come on, sweetheart. You’ve never given a shit about anyone else a day in your life.”
I have. But only Remi and Selena, and to be honest, when Remi almost died, I didn’t want to be the one to take care of him. I wanted to ensure Krypt did it, or Director. Anyone other than me. I’d be a terrible pet owner. The thing would die in three days because I’m too self-absorbed to remember to feed it.
But I fed Killian last night…
“Whatever. I’m going to this meeting.” I grab the doorknob.
Killian’s fingers wrap around my other wrist and turn me back. Just like in that room before we started the Reaper City job, his lips softly land against mine. My stomach gets warm, swelling with pride or something, and his long fingers wrap around the side of my neck. I close my eyes and let him kiss me, unsure if I’m kissing him back because it’s so quick and soft.
“Just in case,” he whispers. Then he opens his door, pushes me into the hallway, and grins at me with a bruised face before shutting it.
I’m just standing here, my lips alight and my mind blown, staring at his closed door. What the hell is happening? Back-to-back sleeping, smoothies, handholding, and now these gentle kisses that mean so much more than a forced dick down the throat? I shake my head, trying to stabilize my thoughts.
“Hello.”
I’m usually the silent one, so it startles me to realize I’m not alone. Shirtless, Facts leans against the wall at the end of the hall. His chest is tattooed with Latin words and ancient runes, and he’s glistening with sweat because he’s an avid morning exerciser. He dances, too. Ballroom style, and he’s damn good at it. His lithe body is his temple; his brain is his power.
“You didn’t see anything,” I warn him.
“I did,” he corrects, because everything has to be fucking accurate with him. He pushes off the wall and follows me into my own room. “But I won’t say anything about it if you help me with something.”
I strip down and don’t give a shit that he’s here. He never looks anyway. Stepping into my shower, he stands outside the glass wall to chat with me. “Help with what?”
“A personal matter.” He jitters.
I close my eyes and lather shampoo. “Get on with it.”
“Well,” he starts, “I seem to have found myself in a predicament.”
“Facts, my patience level is at an all-time low. Get to the point.”
“I’m sexually attracted to a strange man.”
I drop the body wash bottle. “What?” I gasp. If anyone is less sexual than Krypt, it’s Facts. He’s never, not even once, shown interest in another person. Not romantically, not sexually, not even at all, really. He’s selfish, but it doesn’t come from his ego. It comes from his inability to slow himself down enough for anyone else and his weird relationship with what is real and what isn’t. He cares about us, but only in the sense that we’re some sort of family he’s never had, so he understands what loyalty is, but he’s not interested in friendship or comradeship in the same way the rest of us are. He likes belonging, cares about our wellbeing, and that’s about it.
“Yes,” is all he adds, a jerky nod following with another, “Hello.”
“What strange man?”
The screen of his phone slaps against the glass wall of the shower. I look, seeing a man I sort of recognize but can’t name. He’s a Ransom type, by the looks of him. Authoritative, sorta calm, and masculine. He’s older than Facts, judging by the photo, and I’ve seen him around town but never talked to him.
“Why’s he strange?”
“He talks slowly,” Facts says, turning his phone around to look at his crush. “Walks slowly. Keeps eye contact. Listens to people chat without interrupting.”
I snort, picking up the bottle. “Yeah, he sounds like a real wacko. You love people who don’t interrupt.”
“I know. So, what do I do?”
“This is what you need help with?”
“I want you to spy on him. I need to know more, if only to appease my curiosity. I’m not going to talk to him, but… I must know more.”
I grin. “Was that a pause in your sentence? Jesus, Facts. Never heard you pause before.”
“Temporary lapse in focus.”
Rinsing, I turn off the shower and take the towel he holds out for me. He doesn’t look anywhere but at my eyes, and I know he’s getting impatient because I’m not immediately agreeing to spy on his boyfriend.
“Talk to him.”
Facts tilts his head at me in his method of getting annoyed. “No.”
I roll my eyes and push past him, drying off as I go. He follows as I grab dark pants and a white t-shirt, covering it with a dark grey hoodie. I have a few wounds from the job, but none of them hurt too badly. “Fine. I’ll check him out, but if you wanna make a move, that’s on you.”
“Deal.” He holds his hand out, and I laugh as I shake it. “Are you dating Riot?”
My laugh fades and I feel my face flush. “No.”
“Okay. Goodbye.” He leaves my room and doesn’t look back.
When I get to the con room, Director is in a mood, but it’s not his typical ‘frustrated with us’ mood. It’s more of a ‘weight of the world on his shoulders’ mood, and it makes me feel guilty for making shit harder for him. I wasn’t exactly… sane over the past few days, especially before we got Riot out of there. Fortunately, he doesn’t make us line up in rank. He probably figures the two of us have been through enough lately and wounding our already wounded pride by making us stand at the end of the line isn’t worth the hassle it’ll cause him.
We all sit around the table, and Kyd rubs Director’s back in an attempt to ease his woes. “There there, Pops” Kyd croons, making us all grin. He tries so damn hard.
“Nice chomps, Riot.” Menace whistles.
Riot, despite being battered, beaten, and bruised, flashes his new smile at everyone. His confidence hasn’t faded, and his ego is just as mighty as ever, but I swear there was a flash of embarrassment in his eyes when I first saw him without teeth in that torture room.
“Has Lockan found anything in The Misfits?” Director asks, and it takes Monster nudging my knee to realize he’s talking to me. I rip my eyes away from Riot.
“Uh, no. Not yet.” I glance at Riot, trying not to make it obvious. “He’s looking.”
Director nods. “I want you to be the go-between. Help him find his traitor. They’ll all be in Janie’s Woods for training today, so go join in.”
Whatever. It’s a bullshit job, but I don’t care.
“Riot, you’re benched until?—”
“No,” Riot snarls. “Get fucked. I did your job, played nice with Sauder, and lived through it. Don’t you dare fucking bench me.”
No one laughs at his outburst, not even me. Because I’d react the exact same way. He put his life on the line, endured almost three days of torture, kept his wits about him, and managed to poison the research building in downtown Reaper City. If anyone deserves their time to shine, it’s him. Well, it’s me, for getting him out of there in one piece. I probably killed more people than his poison did anyway, but I get where he’s coming from. It doesn’t matter that he’s injured and healing, he won’t sit this one out because now he knows exactly what our enemy looks like. Reaper Corp is coming for Moros, and none of us will sit on the sidelines and let it happen.
Respectfully, Director nods. “Don’t you have a bargain to close up and collect on then?”
Riot grins. Willow Olenna, the cousin of the guy Riot killed by snapping his neck—the first one—still hasn’t paid up. “On it.”
Before I head out to meet up with Lockan, I leave my first calling card for Riot.
* * *
“Hey, Soren,” Cain says as he leaves The Ambient Raven for the evening. He closes the door behind him and pulls his hood up to block the rain. “You going in?”
I’m too combustible to go in. After a day of thinking and dreading and trying to work out the puzzle that is my mind, I’m not stable enough to stand in Remi’s shop and respect it like I should. “I’ll wait for him out here. He almost done?”
Cain is cute. He’s a weird mix of adorable and harsh, artsy and tough, and I know he has a kinky side because Menace has run his mouth about it. I wonder if Cain will ever know Mason is a Vile Boy or if he’ll continue to cheat on his girlfriend on the side. He’s too good for Sadie, but I don’t know if he deserves the torment Menace will put him through if he ever decides to take Cain as his own.
“He’s just locking the back door.”
“Thanks. You all set at home if anything… comes to town?”
He tilts his head at me, wondering why I’m asking, but the whole town knows about the threat, so I’m not giving myself away. “Yeah, and I’m gonna go to some of those training sessions in Janie’s Woods. To hell with anyone who tries to take Moros.”
I grin at that. “Night.”
“Night.” Just like the Moros local he is, he walks down Death Row while the Ravens watch his back.
After another five minutes of the drizzle soaking through my jacket, my brother comes out. “Hey.” He locks the door and smiles at me. “How was your smoothie last night?” He grins.
Fuck him. “Good.”
“What flavour was it?”
“Strawberry.”
Remi laughs, and we start walking towards the house we grew up in. “Killian liked it?”
“Just fuck off about it, Remi.”
“Okay.” He holds his hands up. “Someone came to the shop today to ask if I’d sell my… house. Or, uh, the property it sat on.”
The ravens join our walk. “Who?”
“I don’t know. Some rich guy. Not local.”
“So, you said no?”
“Yeah, I said no. But he gave me a bad vibe.” He pulls his phone from his pocket and shows me the screen. “I snapped this. Recognize him?”
I take his phone. “Yeah, I do. Send that to me so I can show Director. Or send it to Kr-Keegan.”
Remi looks around like I’m speaking dark secrets out in the open. “Who is he?”
A slimy fucking billionaire. “Benton Wentworth.”
As he texts it to both me and Krypt, his sleeves slide up, showing a peek of his burns. Still hate them. Still think they’re stupid. Still think Krypt is a fucking possessive maniac. Kind of love the reason he marked my brother’s body, though.
“You love him?” I ask, startling myself. Love isn’t a topic we chat about. Sure, their relationship a bit, but never love.
Remi’s blue eyes meet mine without any shame or judgement. “Yeah.”
“How do you know? Don’t you just feel like he owns you?”
“In the beginning, yeah. He did own me. It’s different now, and I’m different from you.”
“How?”
He pockets his phone as we turn down the side street. “You want to control everything, be the man in charge, and never let anyone see your vulnerabilities. I didn’t have that choice. Keegan saw all my vulnerabilities without me even wanting to show them to him. I got comfortable being exposed to him, and I don’t crave the same kind of control you do. I give him power because I want him to have it, but that doesn’t make me powerless. Think about it, Soren.” He shrugs. “I have the power to love him, even though he doesn’t know how to be loved.”
Do I know how to be loved? Does anyone love me? I want to ask Remi, but I can’t make myself sacrifice the pride it will take to voice the question.
“Loving someone doesn’t make you weak. You know that, right?”
“Maybe not, but it’s one more point of weakness. Someone could use him against you, and you’d do anything to save him.”
“Like Killian gave up his life to save you?”
I walk faster, resisting the urge to disappear into our surroundings and give Remi the slip. “Why the fuck did I bring him a smoothie, Remi?!”
“Welcome to giving a shit,” Remi says with a laugh.
“I don’t give a shit, though.”
“Deny it all you want. You still ordered me to make a smoothie and brought it to him. And soup. You care.”
“I’ve never cared before. Not about anything but myself.”
“Not true. You care about me and Selena, and you care about Moros. You care about Keegan.”
“You know, he told me he raped you and I got mad because it felt like he got one over on me. I was pissed on my own behalf, not yours.”
“I’ve lived with you my whole life, Soren. I know who you are.”
“That doesn’t bother you?”
He shrugs, feet scuffing on the sidewalk. “Sometimes, yeah, but you’re my brother and I still love you for who you are.” He still loves me for who I am… My brother loves me? “You might not have cared that he assaulted me, but you herded me to Vile House to protect me. Dad always said you were a bad narcissist.”
“What? He did?”
Remi snorts. “Yeah. I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’re vain as fuck and only give a shit about yourself, but the odd time, you get super loyal to something or someone and you give them everything you can, even if you do it in your own way. You led me to the most dangerous place in town, but it saved me. You got Selena in to protect her. You left the music shop so you wouldn’t ruin it. Your protection methods are insane and borderline deadly, but you still protect us.” He looks at me, adding, “You brought Killian a smoothie.”
“And soup,” I mutter. “Fuck, Remi! What is happening to me?”
Simply, and with a smile, he says, “You met your match.”
“But I’ve known him forever.”
“Timing is right then. Have you…?”
“We fucked,” I blurt out fast. “Once. I hated it.” I swallow. “So much that I want it again.”
“I have a fear kink,” he admits, not dwelling on my confession because he knows I can’t handle it.
“Don’t overly wanna hear about it.”
He ignores me. “How does that make sense? I’ve been afraid all my life, and suddenly he comes along and makes it arousing? My point is, not everything makes sense. Just because you like him doesn’t mean you have to stop challenging him. Sex with him doesn’t make you submissive or weak. Wanting him doesn’t mean you have to be romantic. Krypt can’t even say the word love, but I know he loves me in the way he can, so… try that. Figure out how you care about someone, and then… show him.”
“What if I don’t know?”
“We hardly ever do.”
“What if I hate him more than I, uh, like him?”
“That’d suit you.” Remi laughs. “I don’t know Killian all that well, but from the outside, it seems like you both try ridiculously hard to be the best, and maybe it’d be nice to just… not try so hard around each other all the time.”
That does sound relaxing, in a sense. I don’t often let my guard down, but holding his hand last night, falling asleep in his bed with his fingers between mine, felt oddly comfortable. I think I like those parts of him, but if he ever stops goading me like he has been for years, everything soft will shatter. Because I can’t take the soft without the harsh, and I don’t want the innocence without the evil.
In front of the house, we stare at the lit-up living room window. Mom is in there, watching TV like a zombie. I should probably care that she’s brain-dead and messed up, but I don’t. Remi and Selena are fine, and that’s all I have left to care about in my family.
“You sure you wanna be here for this?” I ask him.
“Yeah,” Remi says. “We’re all gonna be here for this.” He points to the front porch. Selena, that mini ghost in training, slips out of the shadows to stand with us.
“Let’s go kidnap Mom and bring her to the mad doctor.”
Axel is going to help us deal with our ‘mother’ problem. Either get her brain right or just lock her up in a cozy cell so she’s not a liability during this upcoming war. Gregory Malone is in there, and she keeps asking about him, so it’s time we learn the real reason why.
“Wait,” Remi shouts before we step forward. “I feel like this is one for the scrapbook.” He holds out his phone, the camera app open. And because it’s so fucking ridiculous, we all laugh as he snaps a few photos.
“First family kidnapping,” Selena laughs. “Here we go.”
Ah, there is still joy in the unexpected things.