Into the Horizon
DEAN: OH my God, you people will not believe what Reg just did.
Chance: Was it find my snake? Marcus texted me an hour ago that she was missing, and I’ve been so worried!
Dean: Yes, but besides that. No—I’m serious. ICE was in our house, giving Marcus shit, threating to haul Mom away in handcuffs if she didn’t stop calling them “gutless fuckers,” and suddenly they all get this urgent call from dispatch and vamoose.
Sal: Reg did that?
Dean: He sent them to the rattlesnake reserve.
Laure: Seriously?
Prock: The boy’s a hero!
Val: I’m so fucking proud right now.
Chance: AND he found Muffin? He’s my favorite brother.
Dean: He’s everybody’s favorite brother. It’s his superpower.
Sal: Don’t worry, baby Chance—you’re still the favorite too.
Laure: This is a dumb game. Tell us more about how Reg saved the world.
Dean: How about you all come over this weekend and hear all about it. Those boys have plans and it’s too big to text.
Laure: Saturday or Sunday?
Dean: Sunday. Last day to use the pool.
Laure: I’ll tell the boys.
Val: Rory and I will be back in time.
Sal: You guys—
Laure: Sal, you have no choice. None. Absolutely none. Too much crazy shit has happened over the last months for you to stay up in your little hole. Come down here and love us, dammit, because I say so!
Sal: Jesus, Laureate—
Val: Not just her. Mom cries over you, you stupid asshole.
Chance: I’m going to forget you even exist. I’m young and dumb, you know.
Prock: I miss you, moron.
Sal: Fine. I’ll come down and my store will explode without me. How’s that.
Laure: That’s fine. I’ll find you a venue in Bakersfield.
Sal: Nobody in the history of ever has left Grass Valley for Bakersfield for good.
Laure: I have five gay brothers and one gay son. Your argument is invalid. Get your ass over here, because we need you.
Sal: This weekend. Fine. I love you all and I’ve got to bail.
Val: Good job, sis.
Laure: Now we’ve got to get him to talk to us.
Val: I bet Reg can make it happen. Sal’s had a weak spot for the younger kids ever since they were born.
Laure: Or Chance. Or even Russell or Shaw. We’ve all got superpowers, Val. We just have to figure out which combination works best.
Val: See you Sunday. Love you.
Laure: Love you too, big brother.
Anthony slid under the covers of Reg’s bed in his little apartment gratefully.
The last few days since they’d arrived back in town had been a flurry of catching up on all the business they’d left behind on the fly, as well as talking to family and initializing the future they’d planned so hectically while they were running for their lives.
And all of that had screeched to a halt for the Royal family dinner, where even the much missed Sal had arrived to hear the entire story, from beginning to end, from Reg and Anthony, and to make sure—in Sal’s words—they weren’t just having fabulous adrenaline sex and were really going to be a couple.
As Anthony remembered from that first barbecue, Sal was a taller, thinner version of Reg, Dean, Val, Prock, and Chance. His hair was as dark as Val’s, his eyes were more brown than hazel, and his nose, chin, and cheekbones were as knife-edged as his humor.
But Anthony could see the sadness there, and he could see the way Reg and Chance practically clung to his every word.
Sal had been the one who’d snuck them sweets, let them stay up too late, and told Chance that reptiles were great pets when he was ten, which had made him always want a snake.
Anthony still loved the Royal family. He’d fallen for the whole kit and caboodle of them back in June. But now, closer to October, when he’d seen the good and the bad and the cracks that even their impenetrable armor of love and acceptance could form, he loved them even more.
Perfection was easy. It was harder when you were flawed and in pain or accidentally causing pain, and you still tried your best for the people you loved anyway.
The get-together that night had been big and rowdy and loud and exhausting—but by the time it was done, Anthony’s plan to open another gun range (that he insisted he’d call Snakeshit Acres) and Reg’s tentative hope to teach Adelle’s classes while working on his credential had been practically set in stone, with the entire family promising whatever was needed to help.
And while he and Reg were still a good year away from the promised “house with a loft, and all the sunlight in the world,” for now they were definitely in a place where they would visit each other as often as possible and sleep over.
Anthony had already talked to Violet to see if they could get another employee to free him up some time to oversee the new property.
And Connor loved teaching at the gun range—they figured he could do that two days a week, staying in Anthony’s guest room for a couple of nights while Catherine stayed with Ed and Julie.
Anthony would miss his little house—he and his father had roomed together there for four years before Rory had moved in with Val.
But he’d be happy to rent it out to Violet and her best friend—and Connor—and room with Reg in this tiny little apartment until they were in a position to make their dreams come true.
Anthony’s best dream was already humming happily, backing up against him as Anthony pressed his bare chest to Reg’s bare back.
“Tired,” Reg slurred. “Gotta go to the school tomorrow.”
“I know,” Anthony said, nuzzling his neck. “No life-shattering sex tonight.” He was tired too—Reg’s family was a lot, and the last couple of weeks had been a lot, and he was looking forward to simply sleeping, like a normal couple in a normal world would sleep.
“Just happy to be here,” Reg mumbled. “You’re like sunshine. You make me like the sun.”
Anthony almost teared up. “I can barely think, and you throw that sort of romance at me?” he said, squeezing him tightly for a moment before letting go.
“We’re getting married,” Reg said dreamily. “All the romance, right there.”
“You’re a marrying kind of guy, Registrar,” Anthony told him, thinking it was true. “First time I saw you, I knew. I had to take you seriously or I’d break both our hearts.”
“Mm… look who’s being romantic,” Reg murmured. “I’d say I can’t wait for our future, but this is our future, and it’s already awesome.”
“God, yes,” Anthony said softly. Neither of them stated the obvious. The world could turn on a dime. Businesses rose and fell, professions were achieved and yanked away, safety wasn’t a given—anything could happen to them between now and the time they hoped to be married.
It didn’t matter.
Ilia and Reynaldo had only wanted a chance—a chance at some peace, a chance to grow up, to learn, to live a good life.
Reg and Anthony had that chance now. Even if fortune flipped them on their ass, they’d look for other chances. Sometimes laying low wasn’t hiding in the basement. Sometimes laying low was basking in the sunlight and praying to find shelter from the rain.
Right now they had each other. That was the best promise the world could make, and Anthony and Reg would hold each other’s hands through the best and worst the future had to offer.
Reg may have learned to dream bigger, but Anthony had learned his lesson too. Dreaming bigger was wonderful—but knowing the only thing you needed to get by made you appreciate what you had.
Whatever the future held, they would continue to hold on. Laying low or riding high, holding on to each other was all they’d ever need.