16. Imry
16
IMRY
“Look at this!” Ellory says. The glee in his voice makes me nervous. Bracing myself, I turn to look at him.
He’s standing beside a large, golden erection. When I say large, I mean it’s about as tall as he is.
“It’s a golden linga fashioned after that found to top an ancient Hindu temple,” Ellory says.
“Nope. I can top that,” Avory says, and I’m scared to look. Ellory and I turn so we can look at him. “Crystal dick for the win.”
The dick in his hand isn’t smooth but is covered with thousands of facets that act like mirrors, reflecting light with iridescent rainbow colors. It’s two and a half or three feet and proportioned appropriately to that size.
“Yeah… that’s cool, but no.”
Avory shrugs. “I think he’d love it,” he says, turning to put it back on the shelf.
Sighing, I look at the little figurines in front of me. We all know these aren’t what I’m buying Haze for Christmas. We wandered in here after the last store just because it was here.
What do you buy for someone who you’re only kinda seeing? There’s this fine line between too much and not enough. Nothing expensive because that can say a lot about how you feel about them and no amount of talking will take that away. Then again, if I go to the dollar store, that also says a lot. You’re not worth the money or the effort. It truly says this considering how much money the Van Dorens have. My bank account isn’t small.
I don’t want to send any of those messages.
I could pay for a trip, but that’s borderline paying too much again, right? A gift card is far too impersonal. Do you really just give your lover a gift card and be done with it? There’s zero thought put into that.
While I know I’m overthinking this, it’s not like I’ve even had a single idea that I’ve rejected for one reason or another. I’m fucking stumped.
Ellory comes up to my side and wraps his arms around mine, laying his head on my shoulder. “I’m not sure any of these little army figures screams Haze,” he notes.
I laugh, my shoulders sagging. “They don’t. I’m just staring at them as I try to think of anything at all that even remotely sounds like a good idea, you know?”
He nods. “Yep.”
Avory joins us on my other side. “This sounds like a good opening for us to ask how it’s going with Haze.”
When I asked them to come shopping with me, I didn’t specifically say who I was shopping for. Just that it was a last-minute Christmas gift. Truly last minute since Christmas is next week and Haze is literally the only person on the fucking property who I didn’t buy something for.
I say that as if I purchased gifts for all the staff members. I didn’t. That’s left up to Dad, which he does. I’m not talking tote bags or pens and cookies. Everyone gets an actual present. He doesn’t hand-pick them all individually, but he does for a lot more staff members than I’d think he remembers.
Myro asked him once how he knew what to buy people and Dad said, “Part of it is getting to know the people who work with you individually. When you think of them as people, as friends and colleagues, remembering details about their likes, families, and work becomes easier. Also, I take a lot of notes.”
I think that’s truly shaped how I treat the people around me. I do buy gifts for those I work with directly or the staff I have a lot of dealings with. Those who maintain my yard specifically. Who clean my house and deliver my food. The guy who brings my mail, sometimes three times a day depending on deliveries, from the big house.
I also took a note from Dad, and they don’t just get a check. They get a gift. I know Dad pays everyone very well, and sure, everyone would appreciate a bonus check at the end of the year—which they also get from Dad. But I can tell by the looks on their faces when I hand them their gifts that the thought and effort put into choosing something specific for them means a lot more than a check does.
But fuck’s sake, buying something meaningful for my milkman is easier than finding something for Haze! Not that I have a milkman. It’s just an example that would be accurate if I had a milkman.
“Are you just going to scowl at these little army men and not answer?” Avory asks.
“I don’t know,” I say. “We said no expectations. No commitment. Except that no one is allowed to touch him but me or I’m going to lose my shit. I’ll give him an orgasm any time he wants one.”
Ellory snorts. “How taxing.”
I roll my eyes. “The problem isn’t that it’s going poorly. It’s that… unconsciously, I’m always comparing him to Darren.”
“Yeah, I may not have exes, but that’s probably a bad idea,” Ellory says.
Avory laughs and I can’t help myself; I smile.
“It’s not purposeful. Like… I used to think we had a really fucking good sex life, right? But when I tell you I’ve never experienced the kind of pleasure I have with Haze, I mean that. I feel like I’m living in a different reality. It’s just that good. Then I think, why is it so different with Haze than it was with Darren? I thought it was amazing at the time and even after. Even since then. But now?” I shake my head.
“I’m thrilled you’re having mind-blowing sex now,” Ellory says.
I huff. “It’s not just that. It’s little things, too. Silly things. The other day, we were watching movies. It was late. I was falling asleep like I always do. When I was with Darren, he’d pause the movie and bring me to bed. I thought it was sweet that he’d tuck me in and whatever and then go back to the movie by himself. Haze pulled me into his arms, laid on the couch with me, tucked me in with a blanket, and held me to his chest while he watched the movie. Like he didn’t want to be apart even though I was falling asleep, but he wanted me to be comfortable. He wanted to be with me. It feels stupid saying it out loud, but I seriously laid there for a minute while he held me close and thought—how could I have even imagined that Darren cared about me when this man, who isn’t entirely committed to me, is so much more considerate and just… loving than Darren ever was? To be clear, I wasn’t thinking of Darren. The thoughts just pop up when Haze does almost anything at all.”
“It sounds like maybe he’s more committed to you than you think he is,” Avory says.
I sigh. “I can feel how that’s not the case. There are tiny things that I can’t pick out now that I try, but I’ll text you when it happens next.”
My brothers chuckle.
“So, yeah, I don’t know. I’m trying not to get in too deep; he’s already told me he’s going through his own shit, which is why he had decided not to get involved with me after you two talked to him.” I glare at Avory. “Thanks for that, by the way.”
Avory shrugs unapologetically. “Listen, Im. You’d do the same for us.”
Ellory nods, letting his hand fall into mine and squeezing it. It’s impossible to be upset with them.
“I get it. He talked about trying to figure himself out after living for so long in an identity that was given to him. I did that too. I met Darren when I’d barely entered adulthood and maybe I didn’t realize it until after, but so much of my personality and identity were shaped around him and what he liked or disliked. How he liked to live or dress or where we ate. So, I get it. I even agree that he should do that self-building on his own.”
“Your heart doesn’t agree though,” Ellory says.
“I’m not going to agree to that corniness,” I deadpan. “But yes. I can think of a dozen different ways we might have been in a better place right now if something small and simple had been different six months ago or any of a hundred times between then and now but… that’s not the hand we’ve been dealt and now I’m ready to rip a throat out if someone dances with him at a club.”
“I told you he was going to get himself into trouble!” Ellory says.
“Come on. Let’s go home. I’ll think of something,” I say and steer my brothers out of the shop.
* * *
There’s a billboard outside the mall that was promoting Arizona Sand Riders’ hockey. That was the sign I needed to make the lightbulb go off. I purchased two tickets for Arizona vs. Carolina in April, the next time Arizona plays Carolina. Hopefully, Oren will be able to tag along with Adak for that game.
It’s dark by the time we’re driving home, which isn’t unexpected since it gets dark out early in late December. We’re on I-40. When it’s this dark out, the only lights on the road are from the sky and headlights. Usually, it’s peaceful.
Usually.
Because the sun has gone down, the windows are cracked. Mostly, the air through the cracks is the noise that fills the air. But as we’re driving on this lonely stretch of highway, something that sounds like a scream makes all three of us look off the side of the road. My foot instinctively comes off the gas, and the car begins to slow.
“We all heard that,” Avory notes.
“There’s NVG under my seat,” I say. “And FLIR under El’s.”
Avory shifts in the back so he can reach under my seat from the back. I continue down the road but driving much slower now. Ellory shifts so he can reach for his.
“What do you see?” I ask. All I see is a rocky landscape. It’s a little hilly with scattered trees here and there.
“Nothing yet,” Avory says. “Maybe it was a coyote.”
“Maybe we passed whatever it was,” Ellory says.
“Should I turn around?”
A beat passes before my brothers agree I should. The highway is split with a tall berm between the double lanes on either side, so it takes us a minute to find a break for a turnaround. Then we’re driving back toward Flagstaff as Avory and Ellory watch through their new eyes.
I glance to my right and glimpse the FLIR. I forget what FLIR stands for, but it basically picks up heat signatures, so the screen is a rainbow of colors with blue and green indicating cold, while red, orange, and white are heat sources. Using it in the desert isn’t always helpful since everything is hot. But the sun’s been down for a while, so it should be useful to find moving heat among the residual.
“There,” Avory says from the back. Ellory whips around and tries to use the FLIR angled out my window without putting it in my face. “There are four figures running in the desert.”
“Five,” Ellory says. “They’re chasing someone.”
As we pass, we hear the scream again. Definitely not a coyote.
“Do we stop or keep driving and call the police?” I ask.
Another beat passes before my brothers both agree that we stop. I slow down, looking for a place where I can drive off the road and into the rocky desert landscape. We’re far enough ahead of them that we have a minute to get ready to respond.
I find a place, but there’s a car coming up on my heels, so I pull off to the side and let it pass. Once the brake lights are out of sight, I turn off my lights and turn into the desert to park around the side of a large rocky outcrop.
“You have toys in your trunk?” Avory asks as he shoves open the door.
“Always,” I answer. Since my car is actually an SUV that sits up rather high, it’s been built with a couple of hidden compartments in the back. When you lift the floor, our preferred method of murder is attached. Three axes, all slightly different.
I prefer a tactical ax, which has a normal flat axe head on the front and a lethal pickaxe on the back. Avory loves a good hatchet while Ellory is channeling older cultures and grabs his tomahawk. However, none of these are good for long range and when you have people running, it’s best not to waste energy on the chase.
We were brought up not using guns or anything that makes loud noises. No weapons that are specifically built for an individual. Nothing that can leave a signature behind which can be traced, like a bullet casing.
Everything we bring in, we take out.
We wrap ourselves in rubber suits and I hand Avory his night vision goggles with the crossbow. While we practice with a bow and arrow a lot, they’re not always practical in these situations. Their distance is only so far. You can get a bit further with a crossbow.
“Don’t miss,” Ellory says. “I don’t want to be chasing arrows in the dark desert.”
Avory huffs.
I’m using the FLIR now with Ellory at my side, looking over my shoulder as we wait for the heat signatures to catch up. There’s a lot of residual red, which is just the world around us holding onto the heat of the sun that baked the ground for ten or so uninterrupted hours today.
“There,” Ellory says, pointing at the screen. I look up as if I can see them in real-time.
I parked far enough off the road that we’re not exactly in their path, but pretty close. Now that we have a minute to truly study them, not only are the four chasing the one herding them away from the road, but they’re closing the distance too.
“I’m impressed that one hasn’t fallen or something. How are they seeing in the darkness?” Ellory muses.
“They’re within range. I’m taking out the targets,” Avory says a second before the first flp and snap of the bow looses the arrow.
I don’t hear the impact, but I do hear the answering scream. One of the chasers is down. The three that had been running with them slow. Flp snap . Another scream and another goes down. The two remaining upright take off running again. Another arrow. And then a fourth. All hitting their targets.
“Beautiful,” Ellory says as he flips his axe over his shoulder and starts his way toward the men screaming on the ground. Avory sets the crossbow back in its holder and grabs a couple of shovels, walking away as he dons his rubber gloves. I take the rope and sling it across my torso like a banner. I shut my trunk and lock the car as I follow my brothers, pushing my hands into the gloves as well.
I saw these rubber suits online. Head to toe, covered in either glossy or matte black. Featureless. It seems like they’re a new trend to sleep in, but when I saw them, I thought one thing—perfect to keep our DNA on our bodies. Even the soles of our feet are smooth in them.
“This shot was too good,” Ellory says as he stands over a motionless body. “Right through the eye. Seriously, how did you even do that?”
“I’m good with small targets,” Avory teases as he hands Ellory the shovels and heads on to drag another body toward the first dead one. This one is screaming, begging. Avory sighs, drops the leg, and turns to bury his hatchet in the man’s head.
“ Lizzie Borden took an axe ,” Ellory singsongs as he digs a shallow grave behind a large rocky outcropping.
The man at my feet starts screaming incoherently. Shaking my head, I drive the spiky end of my axe into his chest until he gurgles.
“ And gave her mother forty whacks .” Avory’s shovel hitting the hard, rocky ground makes an eerie backdrop.
Another choking sound of drowning in blood comes from the man in front of me. I watch him, the fear in his eyes, as he stares up at me.
“ And when she saw what she had done .”
I look up as Ellory’s tomahawk sinks into the third living man’s neck, cutting off his own terrified babbling. Now Avory is digging, and the echoing clang of his metal shovel on the rocky ground feels like a metallic ping in the air.
We don’t actually bury the men. We drag their bodies behind the large rocks and settle them into the shallow grave. It’s only intended to keep anyone from spotting their bodies as they drive through the desert. Not hiding them entirely. Let the animals feast.
By the time someone discovers them, all traces of what happened here tonight will be gone. Wildlife will have picked most of their bones. We use three different axes and deliver different blows for a lot of reasons. When we kill together, it looks very confusing. Especially since we threw in the arrows.
“ She gave her father forty-one .”
We don’t look for the person they were chasing. I’m sure they’ll find help now that they’re not being chased. We stick our bloody arrows and axes into a plastic bin with the rubber suits we’d put on and seal it tight. Then we climb back in and head home, calling Dad on the way to give him a heads up.
This turned out to be a successful night, after all.