Nathaniel
I’M STANDING IN THE kitchen as the intervention starts. Whatever has possessed these boys to square their shoulders and confront me, I want to find it and strangle it with my bare hands.
“Barfred,” Julian starts, casually leaning against the counter with Atlas at his side. “We need to talk.”
My eyes shoot from them to the other side of the kitchen, by the door, where Atticus and Cameron stand side by side.
“Alright,” I say wearily, wiping my hands on a kitchen rag. “Then talk.”
In the past few days since I’ve gotten back from California, Cameron has managed to move into the castle, and I’ve seen this group a lot more than I used to.
As in, I catch Cameron and Atlas running around together, with Julian chasing after them. And without fail, Atticus is always lingering in the distance, keeping a heavy eye on his boyfriend like a protective overlord.
But I get it. I truly do. If I could have Landon in my sights at all—no. None of that. He’s not my boyfriend; he’s nothing to me. Not now.
“Well,” Atlas begins, and it comes out as a squeak that nearly startles me. “We wanted to ask you about Landon.”
Landon? Why would they… surely they haven’t…
My eyes shoot to Atticus, who raises one unimpressed brow in my direction.
“What?” he presses. “Was I not meant to mention your public outings or your sexual conquests in the backyard?”
If I were a more expressive man, I would blush right now. He heard that?
“What is this about?” I demand, letting rage cover my embarrassment easily. “I don’t speak to him anymore, so if you’re wondering—”
“We’re not,” Julian interrupts. “We want to know what happened. As in, why did Landon sound two seconds from crying while on the phone with me last night?”
“He called you?” I ask, surprised and a bit excited.
Did he take my advice and make amends? I’m not the biggest fan of their friendship, knowing their past, but I also know that Landon needs his friends.
“He did,” Julian confirms. “He told me… things.”
The knowing look he is leveling at me either means Landon told him about his gift or his mental state. Either way, I’m already aware of both.
“I see,” I murmur.
“And when I asked about you—”
“Why would you do that?” I interrupt.
“—he seemed very sad. More than usual. What happened?”
I stare at the ballsy fucker in disbelief. Where does he get off questioning me? Is my and Landon’s nonexistent relationship any of his business?
“What Julian’s failing at asking,” Atticus cuts in, and I catch the eye roll Julian gives me, “is if you guys fought? Broke up?”
Atticus doesn’t personally sound very invested in this situation, but with his brother so invested and his boyfriend silently backing the precious boy up, I guess he doesn’t really have a choice.
“None of your business,” I snap, my hands idly messing with the salt and pepper shakers before me.
“Barfred,” Atlas calls sweetly, peering up at me from behind thick lashes. “It’s a miserable thing to feel alone. And it’s even scarier to rely on someone, especially someone who has the ability to crush you.”
“He does not have the ability to—”
“I was talking about Landon.” Atlas stares at me with his glacier blue eyes, demanding and still so sweet.
Julian, on the other hand, is glaring daggers at me. Most likely because I just snapped at his boyfriend.
“You guys think I’ve crushed him?” I ask quietly.
“Something certainly did,” Julian answers.
Fuck. Is he truly that messed up? I guess I should have expected it. Between the way he freaked out when I didn’t call him and how he said only I can make the sadness retreat, I figure he grew pretty dependent on me.
And that would typically make me feel like a god, larger than life, but it’s falling short this time. All it’s doing is serving as a reminder that I can’t be those things anymore. That he is stuck remembering the safety in them, only to drown in the betrayal that followed it.
“There’s nothing I can do now,” I finally reply, looking between the four men in front of me with a hint of vulnerability.
“There is always something you can do,” Cameron insists, and it’s the first thing he’s said since they walked in.
“He hates me.” As I say it, it’s a steel blade to my heart. A truly miserable punishment that I most definitely deserve.
“I thought that once, too,” Julian tells me softly. “But he didn’t. He was just hurt and scared. Landon may appear tough and unbreakable, but at his core, he’s as emotional as the rest of us.”
I don’t mention that I’m definitely not included in that rest of us statement. Mostly because Julian is right, and I’ve seen the emotional side of him. I saw it when I hurt his feelings during the weekend of Atlas’s party, and I saw it as he had his gift ripped away.
No one here understands the depths to which my betrayal runs. Not a single one of these people can see that if Landon were to hate anyone, it would be me.
“I’m not sure what you want me to say,” I admit. “Yeah, I hurt him. Yes, I regret it. But so is the way of life, and I can’t spend forever dwelling over it and remembering—”
I cut myself off, unable to portray the agony in his screams. The way he completely crumbled.
My goal was to destroy him, to dismantle him. I succeeded. Case closed.
“Do you love him?” Atlas asks.
“The fuck?” My head snaps up, meeting his gaze with an angered shock.
“Watch it,” Atticus sneers, glaring at me from across the room.
“I just meant, do you want him back?” Atlas clarifies.
“Clearly, love is a sensitive topic for him,” Julian mutters to his boyfriend.
“It doesn’t matter if I do,” I insist. “I won’t chase somebody who wants nothing to do with me. I won’t demand he see me if the sight of my face makes him sick.”
And that’s the reality, isn’t it? Landon is infuriating and annoying, but if I thought for a single moment that he’d forgive me, I would chase him.
I’d find it somewhere inside of myself to admit my feelings. I’d do anything.
“So you’ll give up then?” Atticus asks, and I can hear the judgment in his tone.
“No, I—”
“That’s exactly what this is, isn’t it?” he continues. “Deciding how he feels for yourself and taking the easy way out?”
Atticus is being a brat. He’s doing that little trick of his where he pushes you until you explode, and I’m genuinely falling for it.
“I’m not taking the easy way out, Young Master Atticus. I’m simply respecting his request not to bother him.”
“He asked you to do that? To leave him alone?” Atlas asks.
“Well, he said… he said goodbye. To have a terrible life,” I confess.
Sitting here, confessing secrets with a bunch of guys in their twenties feels weird, if not a little degrading.
“So he didn’t say you couldn’t contact him?” Julian questions, and I blink at him in confusion.
Is that not what “Goodbye. Have a terrible life!” means?
“It sounds to me, if I may,” Cameron butts in, “that he was angry and telling you to fuck off. Not that you can never contact him again.”
“I—what?” My head is reeling, and if I’m honest, I’m starting to feel kind of stupid.
“Barfred,” Atticus calls. “Call him.”
“No.” I shut the idea down before they can scheme any further. He won’t even answer. I bet I’m blocked.
“Then I will,” Julian sasses, yanking his phone from his pocket.
Atlas is grinning at him, all goofy and loving as he taps away and then presses his phone to his ear.
“Right here?” I hiss. “Stop it!”
“Hey, Lan,” Julian says into the phone a moment later, though his eyes never stray from mine. “Yeah, I’m good. Listen, I wanted to invite you to a get-together. A boy’s night of sorts.”
Silence envelopes the room as Julian listens to Landon talk, and I want so badly to beg the idiot to put him on speaker, if only so that I can hear Landon’s voice one more time.
“Great! How does this upcoming weekend sound? That gives you a good few days to prepare… Okay awesome! Later.” Julian hangs up the call, giving me an evil grin. “He’ll be here in five days. That should be plenty of time to ready your apology.”
“How exciting!” Atlas squeals, clapping his hands together.
“I can’t believe you just…” I rub at my temples, trying and failing to slow my frantic breathing.
I want to ask how Landon sounded, and whether he’s okay. But I refrain, if only because it’s kind of embarrassing.
“Well, that’s settled,” Atticus says, his tone bored and completely over this encounter. “Want to watch the waves, sweetheart?”
Cameron nods eagerly, but instead of immediately following after Atticus as he leaves, he steps forward and grabs Atlas’s hand, dragging him away.
“It’ll be alright, Nathaniel,” Julian says, giving me a confident smile. Then, he turns and trails after Atlas like an eager puppy.
Calum really did handle the warehouse situation. Apparently, a bunch of the repressors were tired of the council’s demeaning treatment and had no issues helping.
What they did with the bodies, or how we got away with literal murder, I’m unsure.
I know I should feel some kind of guilt toward those I shot, that it should haunt me, but it doesn’t. I never claimed to be a kind man, and I have no issue taking down those who abuse their power—even if that power isn’t magical and is only authoritative.
Especially when that abuse is aimed towards someone I care about.
Someone I… care about.
I sit up in bed, my head still reeling from the conversation I had with the boys earlier. Oh, lord. I care about Landon. Sure, I knew I did on some level, but the idea of reconnecting? Of having his vulnerability again? His violence?
Fuck. I… I like him. I may more than like him. I didn’t think I would be capable of such things after what happened with my family, and now here I am: totally lost without Landon’s grating presence. But will he forgive me when he arrives?
Will Julian’s plan work? He knows Landon well, having been his best friend for so long, so I do have hope. Just not a whole lot.
Let’s be honest here—I took the most fragile parts of Landon and stomped all over them. I gained his trust and his affection and then sold him out to an organization that’s become just as corrupt as my family was.
They had to have known that Landon wasn’t evil, definitely not after they watched him for so long. The worst thing the guy ever did was command me to make his tea right or shove my cock down his throat.
It’s my fault that he got caught up with EP, but they should have stopped that train after getting some proof of who he was.
But they weren’t truly after Landon, were they? He was collateral on their way to Benji, and I’m almost certain that Benji’s biggest crime was being elusive. The council couldn’t stand being bested.
And as I stare into the darkness of my room, feeling the cold space next to me that Landon so briefly occupied, I feel like a bigger idiot than I have ever been before.
I’m a silly child, chasing demons I’ve long since exterminated. A broken man clinging to anger like a lifeline, because what will be left of me once I emerge from that darkness?
Loneliness? A hollow body? Aging bones that grind and tick loudly as if they’re reminding me of how much time I’ve spent stuck in this cycle of revenge that has no meaning?
I have spent the past decade watching my life go by from a distance, never truly connected to myself, in fear of trusting and hurting the way I have before.
And the brief moments of reprieve where I was present, completely aware and alive, were with Landon. Every time we touched, every moment in which we fought, I was so fucking alive.
If this life lesson means anything to me, it’s that I have to let go. I have to stop clinging to this meaningless sense of justice and just… breathe.
I can… I can love again, can’t I? I can trust, cling, and let my guard down.
And then it hits me. Being burned again by those I care about would not kill me, but never seeing Landon again? Never holding his strong body in my arms, or being given the pleasure of forcing that darkness away from his soul? That will kill me.
If I cannot earn his forgiveness, I will be nothing. I would rather have him hurt me every day for the rest of my life than barricade him from my heart.
I am nothing if not vicious and angry, but I guess—somewhere deep down, dusty and abandoned—I am also desperately yearning for him.
I hope never to hear another goodbye leave his lips.
I will wish on every falling star that sweet Landon may hide away in that he will return to me. And if he does?
I guess maybe then I’ll feel whole again.
I will then truly be living.