Chapter Three #4
A part of him wanted to call Gene, begging him to save him, but the other part of him couldn’t bear it if he said no. Then, he would have no reason to keep going.
Not knowing was all that saved him.
Without Gene, there was no one to hold back that rot before he was a zombie, just aimlessly wandering.
LOST.
“What do I do?” he asked himself, as if he could answer that question himself when clearly, he couldn’t.
He didn’t have a freaking clue, and that was the problem.
If he had any ability to figure this out, he’d know how to get his ass out of this predicament, and he wouldn’t be hiding at his brother’s cabin.
He would have handled this differently.
Instead, he would have punched Gabe in the face for daring to steal what he’d worked so goddamn hard for his whole life.
Blackhawk would have beaten his ass for trying to make him ashamed of his relationship with Gene.
He would have risen up.
Not sat down.
But that wasn’t who he was.
Clearly.
Ethan Blackhawk was a coward.
As he watched the light snow falling, he knew what he needed was to workout. What he needed was to run as fast and as far as he could so that the demons couldn’t ride him to his destruction.
Maybe that would buy him time—for what?
He had no clue.
Only, Ethan was smart enough to know that it was only a matter of time before Timothy appeared, and the shit got even worse for him.
How?
Well, the meddler would step in and give him unsolicited advice. Yeah, the old man would have some advice he didn’t want to hear.
He’d tell him it would be okay, but it was definitely not going to be okay.
His heart hurt.
He’d left Gene behind.
Damn it!
He’d left the ONLY person in his life who had never betrayed him, and there was no way he’d get a second chance.
Ever.
Why the bloody hell hadn’t he stayed in DC until Gene could get to him?
He was such a fool. No one was coming to save him, and he couldn’t save himself.
Well, he’d fucked this up.
SPECTACULARY.
Going to the duffle bag he’d tossed by the door when he came in, he pulled out a pair of shorts, a t-shirt, and his sneakers. Oh, he’d be cold, but maybe that was what he needed to wake him up.
Because if there was a God, or a power that be, this was nothing more than a nightmare.
Now, he just needed to wake from it or have one hell of an epiphany so he could solve it.
Yeah, he knew it wasn’t going to happen.
Deep down, that anxiety was getting bigger and bigger, and before long, it would consume him whole.
All he wanted was to run even more.
To see where it took him.
Getting changed, he left his car keys on the counter so that his brother knew he would be coming back. Granted, the rental would give it a way, but he wasn’t thinking straight.
There was too much on his mind.
Later, when Callen got home, he’d talk to him about this, and maybe, his brother would find it in his heart not to toss him out on his ass.
Timothy’s cabin would be sheer torture.
Now, his fingers were crossed. Callen was his last hope, but he knew the cold, hard reality of it all.
He’d hurt him, and now, here he was, absconding his home. He owed the man at least an explanation.
IF he came back.
It wasn’t lost on him that he’d abandoned ship as quickly as he could.
Oh, and he didn’t blame him.
Not.
One.
Bit.
He wasn’t the only one who was conditioned from their youth.
It was clear that they knew him.
Everyone evaded when he was angry.
What they didn’t know was that was when he needed someone the most. All he wanted was someone to stand with him through the fire.
All he craved was his emotional support person, and up to yesterday, that had been Gene.
Now, it was no one.
AGAIN.
As he walked out the door, ready to start running again, he stared at the trees around him and hated it here.
Why?
It called to him.
He could feel it in his soul.
For some reason, whenever he was here, he could feel the ancestors beckoning him to come back.
Or whatever god-forsaken thing it was that called to him. What he knew was it shouldn’t. It was preposterous to have a tie to this place since he was only half Native.
God.
He missed his mother.
Desperately.
Now, with no hope, and no life in the outside world, the spirits here might just get their way. Where else was he going to go, jobless?
His anchor wasn’t here.
His anchor was ripped free from him, and there was no doubt that Gene would have a better chance in life without him pulling him down.
That was also the cold-hearted truth.
Ethan was just in a free-fall now, and he had no one to pull him from it.
It was scary, but he had to work through this since he was on his own.
AGAIN.
Maybe Fate would cut him a break, and he’d figure it out like he had at eighteen.
As he walked toward the gravel road, the demons chortled in glee that the prodigal son had returned to the scene of the crime.
His birth.
So, Ethan Jackson Blackhawk did what he did best. He began running.
And running.
And running.
He didn’t stop for the longest time either because he was being chased this time. The demons in his head were screaming, and instead of finding a solution, he found himself deeper in that mire.
Trees flashed by.
Snow kept dusting the road in front of him.
His stomach churned with bile.
And he knew what would happen.
By the end of the run, he would give up on himself and the life he’d once had.
There was no chance he’d pull from this. The bottom line was that Gene was better off without him. He was a good man, and a decent partner. He’d fall in love again and move on.
That thought alone would kill Ethan.
And he knew it.
With each step on that gravel back road on the reservation that spawned him, Ethan Jackson Blackhawk lost everything.
What he wanted to do was die, and that wasn’t an exaggeration.
There was nothing left.
His job.
His man.
His dignity.
He was back at the rez, and soon word would spread that the man who escaped, failed.
As his heart pounded in his chest, he ran the long loop around the rez and back toward Callen’s cabin. As he ran, the tears dripped from his lashes as the soft, pure flakes of snow dissolved against his flesh.
This was his end.
This was how his story came to its conclusion.
And it hurt.
All Ethan wanted now was to hide, so he made his next plan. He’d go back to sleep.
Because he was lost.
No one was coming to save him.
Ethan Blackhawk was alone.
Again.