24. Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-four
Ace
I had two options for Carter and Casey’s housing since their move was going to be so last minute.
The first was a nice house for rent, with three bedrooms and two baths, and a cute little fenced-in yard.
The other was a decent-if-you-squint-at-it cramped loft apartment downtown for a fifth of the price.
I preferred the first, for obvious reasons.
As college students, however, it was only reasonable to put them in the second.
I’m wondering if that was actually the best choice as I stand in the empty living room, hands on my hips, surveying the place.
“This floor is tilted,” Keaton calls unseen from deeper into the apartment.
I don’t startle. I knew he was lurking around here somewhere.
If he wasn’t already inside, I expected him to wander in through the door soon enough.
That’s what he does. He just fucking appears.
People probably think it makes him mysterious.
Really, it’s more that he’s just such a hot mess, fueled by too much emotion and not enough patience, that you can't really predict him. I won’t ever tell his secret, though.
I’d hate to be the one to steal his street cred.
The mysterious thing works for him. I’ve seen it.
Well, that and his ability to flip a switch and turn charm on so well it’s dizzying to watch.
The good looks probably don’t hurt, either.
I eye the supposedly tilted floor before arguing, “It is not.”
There’s a soft clunk from the back of the apartment. I look up, expecting to see him. Instead, I’m met with the sight of an empty bottle. It rolls slow and steady from down the hall and into the living room. I watch it with a heavy sigh as it rolls right past my right foot and toward the door.
“Okay,” I concede. “So… it’s tilted. A bit.”
“A bit,” he mutters to himself, appearing in the opening that leads from the hallway into the kitchen-living room area. He’s dressed in dark jeans, a dark shirt, and his black leather jacket. He’s wearing his heavy leather boots, too, despite sounding like he has socks on with how quietly he walks.
I eye the leather jacket with a frown. “Did you ride here?”
“I would never. This late at night? Dressed in such dark clothing? On these back roads? That’d be dangerous.”
Which is exactly the kind of thing that makes me think the fucker rode here.
“Kellan is going to take your bike again.”
“I’m not a child.” I arch an eyebrow at him. He turns away, opening the fridge door. “It has headlights, you know. And tail lights. But no, I didn’t ride here. You know, since I live on the coast. Like you did. Or like you… do? You kept your apartment, right?”
“Right.”
“Right. So, I live in Boston, like you… sort of do. Which is nowhere near here. So, obviously, I rented from the airport. A truck, if you’re curious. Very safe. I even drove the speed limit.”
“Well, damn.”
“Well, damn,” he echoes.
I watch him for a second before getting the courage to ask, “Did it help?”
He glances over his shoulder at me on his way to the fridge. “Did what help? Renting the truck? Yeah, pretty helpful, considering-”
“The mission,” I correct. “Did it help you feel better about… things? Give you some closure?”
He reads a note that’s been left on the fridge door, words I can’t make out from how far away I am. He makes a noise of disapproval before opening the door and leaning in.
“Keaton?”
He doesn’t turn to look at me. “Hm?”
“Keaton,” I say again, my tone turning serious.
He stares into the fridge a moment longer before closing the door and turning to me. The guilt on his face makes it pretty fucking clear what he’s about to say. Knowing ahead of time doesn’t make it land any better when he admits, “I think I made it worse.”
“Keaton.”
“I know, okay? I know. I’m sorry. I’m working on it. I’ll figure it out.”
I turn away from him, eyeing the room. I don’t want to set up surveillance in here unless it’s requested by Carter and Casey, but it’s good to know where I’d put it if I wanted to. It’s also good to not let Keaton see my expression. To see the way panic is starting to prickle through my veins.
It was one thing for me to admit to Kellan that I care about these guys. It’s another for him to find out Keaton does.
It’s not like Keaton has never had friends before. Kellan actively encouraged him to make friends. Whenever he’s struggling, Kellan even encourages him to reach out to them. He tells him to go out and hit the North End or catch a Sox game.
Friends aren’t the problem. The problem is that this group is quickly becoming a family, the kind of family you don’t walk away from if you can help it, and Kellan won’t like that. He won’t like it for me, when he realizes I’m in that deep, and he’ll despise it for Keaton.
That’s dangerous.
Sometimes I forget how dangerous Kellan can be. I think sometimes Keaton does too.
“He was really fucked up,” Keaton says to my back.
“Travis, I mean, after we took out Mica. I don’t know what happened.
I was taking care of a survivor we found with him, but Mica must have said something or done something because Travis was - I don’t even know how to describe it.
It was like someone flipped his light switch off.
I tried to get him to talk to me again, but it didn’t go well. At all.”
“Yeah, he was still like that when he showed up at the house. I have a feeling whatever happened had to do with Carter and pretty sure that had something to do with him and Casey deciding to leave.”
He sighs heavily. “You think they’re ready?”
“No.” I walk over to the fridge to read the note from before. It’s about upcoming repairs. “Did Kellan tell you he’s going to let them come and go?”
“Yeah. If I hadn’t been sitting, I probably would have fell right on my ass. How’d you pull that off?”
I hesitate, taking the time to eye him. Did Kellan not tell him about the deal? Am I going to get away with not talking about my own shit?
Keaton raises an eyebrow at me. “Other than the part where you have to talk to me and possibly Adam.”
Damn. He knows me too well.
“I-” I huff a laugh, shaking my head. “Actually, I told him that I care about them. That they’re important. Then I told him I was scared of him killing them.”
Now both of Keaton’s eyebrows are up, raised just about as high as they can go. “You told him that and he approved your request?”
I laugh again, feeling just as incredulous about it as he sounds. “I know, I was pretty fucking surprised.”
“Hm.” He opens a cabinet door, seemingly checking the hinges. He moves on to the next one. And the next. “Maybe…”
Any amusement drains right out of me. I know that tone. That is the tone of dangerous ideas.
“Keaton,” I warn.
“I know,” he says quietly. He closes the cabinet door and doesn’t move on to the next one. He just stands there, staring at it. “He’s protective over you, he’s dangerous over me. I get it. I get the difference. I know.”
My heart breaks for him. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. Whatever. I’m used to it.” Which I guess he is. Kellan always approved of friends, but nothing more than that. Best friends were conveniently uninterested shortly after introductions, or reassigned to other units, or given missions halfway around the world.
Relationships were worse. I know Fox helped Kellan with the first two - at 17, then 19. I’m still not sure if Keaton ever found out about either of those interventions. The one at 23 he had to handle on his own. Keaton was a full adult. Fox thought Keaton should get to do whatever he wanted.
Kellan hadn’t agreed.
I’ve lost track of how many partners have been driven off since then. Keaton had caught on eventually. He stopped introducing Kellan to them. He stopped even mentioning them.
Until Scotty, at least. Keaton was so in love with Scotty that it was kind of nauseating to look at.
When they hit the year mark, he tentatively introduced him to Kellan.
He’d been smart about it. He’d told Kellan the night before the introductory dinner that Scotty was good for him.
He cooked Keaton healthy meals and got on his case about smoking and caffeine.
When he found out Keaton was trying to stay sober, he gave up alcohol too.
Keaton was even considering quitting missions for him.
Kellan had actually approved of Scotty, though cautiously. The approval didn’t last long.
Scotty and Keaton had a fight about some very incriminating texts involving Scotty’s co-worker. Scotty didn’t think it was that big of a thing. Monogamy was so outdated, he’d said. Couldn’t they just be in love and have fun? He bet his co-worker would love to get fucked by Keaton, too.
Keaton had stumbled into Kellan’s house in the middle of the night, drunk off his ass, laughing on the floor of the mudroom as he looked up at Kellan holding the gun he kept beside his bed. Shoot me, he’d dared him. Fucking do it.
Kellan was very calm. He put the gun somewhere safe. He told me to go back to sleep. He brought Keaton to his old room and brought him water and meds and watched over him as he slept.
Within 24 hours, Scotty had disappeared off the face of the earth. I never asked what happened. Neither did Keaton.
Keaton hasn’t had a relationship since.
Then he found Bryce…
What would Kellan do to Bryce?
I shudder.
Keaton pulls me away from the awful thought when he clears his throat. I look over to find him still staring at the cabinet door, rubbing his hand over his jaw. He needs a shave. Some sleep wouldn’t hurt, either.
He glances at me just long enough to know he got my attention before hanging his head to watch himself run a finger over the edge of the countertop. “Just… if they become family to you, don’t forget-” his voice gives out.
He swallows hard and shakes his head at himself. “Just - uh - just don’t forget about us too, okay? I know Kellan is… well, Kellan. And I know I’m a fucking mess. I know I drive you crazy with my moods and with-” he stops when I wrap my arms around him.