Sightlines

by Santion Hassell

  So much had happened between Beck’s arrival at Evolution and the failed raid on the Farm that it no longer seemed critical to hide the fact that some people could break through his walls. Or that there was something on the other side of those walls to find.

  “He isn’t in love with me,” Holden said. “I can promise you that.”

  “You can’t promise shit.”

  “I’m an empath, you complete moron. This is one of those things I can actually guarantee.”

  Chase ran his tongue over the front of his teeth and said nothing. So what if his heart sped a little faster at the slightest possibility that he could be wrong? It didn’t mean Holden wasn’t bullshitting him to avoid conflict and cover his ass. After all, who would want to piss off a multitalented freak who could explode people with his mind? Or have their own cyborg boyfriend get territorial and jealous? That probably looked scary as fuck on Six.

  “Look, Chase, this is the last thing we should be focusing on right now, but I’m also the last person to lecture on dealing with relationship woes while in the middle of a vast conspiracy.” Holden’s mouth quirked to the side, and his gaze flicked over his shoulder like he was trying to see his impenetrable boy toy through the door. “But while you were on the Farm, Elijah was completely fixated on getting you back. He removed himself from the Community, from Evo, and hooked up with Ex-Comm folks for the sole purpose of finding you. And never once did I sense that he was doing it for any reason other than love and devotion.”

  Chase crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head back against the window. Holden, also known as the only person besides Elijah to stand up to him with zero hesitation, met his gaze. It was so pitying that Chase glanced across the room where his eyes fell on the vanity mirror.

  Their reflections were as different as night and day. Even in worn jeans and a sweater that had likely been snagged from a random discount store, there was something regal about Holden’s carelessly brushed-back hair and the way he carried himself. In contrast, Chase’s white hair, sinewy build, and tattoo sleeves were extreme. No one would ever guess they knew each other, let alone the fact that they shared DNA.

  They were so different that there was no reason why they should have ever got along. Yet, somehow, they had. As much as Chase had tried to push Holden away, Holden had kept talking to him, joking with him, and worming his way in until teenaged Chase had reluctantly accepted him. The resentment had still been there, but it hadn’t prevented him from getting along with his brother. Just like his own doubt about Elijah’s feelings hadn’t stopped him from sleeping with him. Or falling for him.

  As he stared at the mirror and watched Holden wait patiently to likely be brushed off or rudely turned away, it occurred to Chase that he was the fucking worst. He made no attempts to hide that he didn’t trust neither Holden or Elijah, and they both kept coming back and giving him opportunities to believe in them.

  If it were him, he’d have stopped trying ages ago. And he didn’t want them to. Either of them.

  “Look, I guess I should say this before one of us gets killed.”

  Holden’s brows arched just slightly. “This sounds promising.”

  “Shut up and let me talk.” Chase pushed away from the window with his shoulder blades. “I know I treat you like you’re a shady piece of shit, but you didn’t turn out to be that bad. If anything gets out of hand, I’ll definitely try to not let you die.”

  Holden nodded slowly, his expression unchanging. “Thank you, brother. I hope your speech to Elijah is a little lighter on the teenage angst and higher on the romantic declarations.”

  “Fuck you.”

  Holden smiled, and there was no mistaking the fondness in it. “What am I going to do with you?”

  “Nothing if my ass gets killed.”

  The smile faded. Holden crossed the room to join Chase by the window, but he looked out while Chase remained faced away. Was he also searching for Comm members rolling up in SUVs with blacked-out windows? That’s what Chase had been doing only a few minutes ago. Wondering when it would all go down, and bracing for the moment when he watched Elijah being dragged away.

  “Stop joking about dying.”

  “It’s not a joke,” Chase said. “It’s a big possibility. In that vision, everyone got smoked but Elijah, your mom, and Nate. And I’m not too sold on them keeping me around given the fact that I’m the last son to sell Richard out.”

  “Could be.” Holden rocked on his heels, hands clasped behind his back as he frowned out the window. “Or maybe they took Elijah to use him as leverage against you, just as they did before. Which means that you’re important to them. Very much so.”

  “I think you’re too sold on the multitalented-freak hype, Holden. If I was so fucking critical to the Comm, and to our father, why would he have spent my entire life treating me like a nonfactor or a science project?”

  When Holden turned to meet his eyes, there was sadness there. And regret. “Maybe because the best way to gaslight you into staying compliant was to make you feel like a nonfactor. To treat you like you would be nothing, or have nothing, without him.”

  Chase’s eyes narrowed to slits. “What do you mean?”

  Holden dragged his teeth over his lower lip the way he did when he was thinking and choosing his words with care. When he finally spoke, it was after he’d put a hand on Chase’s shoulder and squeezed.

  “Even though you think of me as having been the ‘prince’ of the Community, Richard never hesitated to tell me I was a disappointment. Whether it was my sex life, my orientation, or my goals, he never approved. He made me feel less than because he thought if he kept putting me down, I’d work harder to please him. And he did the same thing to you. He hammered it into your head that you weren’t the real son, you were a tool, he was doing you a favor by putting you in certain situations, et cetera . . . In order to make you feel like you couldn’t function anywhere without the Community. And him.”

  Part of Chase wanted to argue because he, who was so guarded with his feelings, could not be manipulated. Or that was what he’d told himself since the day he’d left the Farm for the concrete empire of New York City. But maybe he’d only been keeping an eye out for manipulation in obvious ways, not the insidious approach of someone who knew how to gain allegiance by treating people like shit.

  Jesus Christ, human beings were awful.

  “My point—” Holden pressed on “—is that you’re not only important to our father and the Community, but you’re important to us. Me, Nate, Elijah, and everyone in this house. I truly believe that without you, we’re all dead.”

  “Fuck, Holden.” Chase shrugged off his hand, exhaling slowly. “No pressure or anything, right?”

  “There’s a crazy amount of pressure, but I’m just trying to say that you need to believe in yourself.” Holden rolled his eyes, likely knowing he sounded cheesy. “Believe that you matter despite these . . . Ex-Comm boys trying to act like you don’t. You being here is fucking key, and Elijah loves you because you’re amazing when you’re not being a dick.”

  “That’s some endorsement.”

  “Yeah, well . . .” Holden smirked. “It’s true. Except you keep treating Elijah like he’s trying to fuck both of us or like some dumb kid who doesn’t know how he feels, which is worse.”

  Chase shook his head but didn’t defend himself. He’d never thought Elijah was a dumb kid. He’d just thought Elijah was mind-fucking him and lying, because there was no way he’d want Chase instead of Holden.

  “I’ll clear it up with him,” he said gruffly. “When all this is over.”

  Holden pursed his lips, once again rocking on his heels and obviously trying to figure out what to say.

  “They decided we should all go to the city to confront the board tomorrow morning, Chase. I have a feeling this is going to start moving really fast as soon we get there.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because Kyger and Hale will either have our backs and want to a
ct as soon as possible to prevent news of this from spreading, or Ex-Comm from exposing all of us, or they’ll be in on it and we won’t ever see the outside of the CW again.”

  “Another cheerful fucking forecast from Holden,” Chase muttered. “But you’re right.”

  “I am. And Six agreed, so it must be pretty factual since he has zero hesitation about telling the brutal truth.”

  “Heh. Well, then. As long as the cyborg thinks we’re gonna die, it must be so.” Chase combed his hands through his hair. “I guess we better prepare, then, right?”

  Holden nodded. “Will you talk to Elijah?”

  “Yup.” Chase crossed the room and opened the door for Holden to get out. “If we come out on the other side of this with all our bits still intact.”

  “If you say so, Chase. If you say so.”

  Holden left the room, and Chase shut the door behind him before leaning against it. A little voice in the back of his head asked what he’d do if the board didn’t support them and they died before clearing the air, but Chase didn’t have an answer.

  The uncertainty plagued him until he abandoned his plan to lay low until the morning and went to find Elijah. It didn’t take long—Elijah was sitting on the floor outside the room, knees drawn up and head tilted against the wall.

  “What are you doing out here?”

  “Trying to decide if I should try to talk to you again, or whether I should save myself the inevitable rejection.”

  Chase winced. He waited until Elijah rolled his head to the side, making eye contact, then extended a tattooed hand. “Come on.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s warmer than this drafty-ass hallway, and there’s a bed.” Chase frowned. “I don’t want to fuck. I just want . . .”

  Elijah watched, waiting.

  “Look, I almost always fuck up when I speak. I almost always do the wrong things when it comes to you, but if you’re not too pissed at me . . .” This time it was Chase preparing for rejection. “I just want to be close to you tonight. Like we were last night in that cabin.” His voice cracked horrifyingly as he said, “Please?”

  A wash of emotions crossed Elijah’s face, culminating in damp eyes that quickly flit away. He grabbed Chase’s hand and stood.

  “Only if you cuddle me like you did last night.”

  “I’ll do whatever you want,” Chase said quickly.

  “Really?” Elijah raised his eyebrows. “Does that include talking about everything at some point? Because I can’t go on with this hot-and-cold shit, Chase. I can’t . . . keep doing it.”

  “We’ll talk. I promise. But tonight . . . I just want us to fucking pass out in that bed. I don’t even care who was staying in this room, ’cause it’s ours now.”

  Elijah sighed and walked into the room. “Honestly? That sounds really fucking good to me. For now.”

  Those two words resounded in the room, but Elijah didn’t press him further. He kicked off his too-large boots, skinned out of his outer sweater, and plopped onto the bed. When Chase eased in beside him, Elijah pressed against him until their bodies felt like one.

  The worst part about leaving Poughkeepsie for the city was deciding who stayed and who went. In the end, nobody stayed. The Ex-Comm brothers left the house to meet up with the rest of their group, and the Evo squad along with Six and Jessica packed into two vehicles before heading south.

  Chase was nearly convinced the EC assholes would eventually be a problem for them, but it was a gut feeling based on nothing. Voids went on about “gut feelings” a lot, but when you were born with extrasensory powers, “gut feelings” were pretty much as reliable as indigestion. In other words, his paranoia about Damon and Xander would have to wait until they dealt with the current shit-storm.

  Trent drove the truck Chase rode in, and nobody asked where Six had procured it from. Holden was real cagey about it, and it was a struggle not to make jokes about getting stopped by a cop. Not like a cop stood a goddamn chance when facing off with a car full of psychics.

  The roads were a mess of slippery asphalt, black ice, and traffic, but they made it to the city by midday. Chase tried not to focus on how much it bothered him that Elijah was completely silent, or that he’d opted to ride shotgun and leave Chase in the back seat with Nate. The night before, they’d crashed hard as soon as they’d touched the bed. That morning, Six had woken them up and demanded they eat a protein bar and get ready to go. There had been no time to talk as Elijah had wanted, so everything was still . . . unsettled.

  Nobody spoke during the drive, but Trent played a steady stream of classic rock that was oddly soothing. Figured it’d be Nate’s boyfriend who wasn’t totally annoying.

  “What’s the plan once you guys get there?” Trent asked as they entered Manhattan. “Chase goes all Matrix on their asses?”

  “Do you have to crack a joke about everything?” Nate crossed his arms over his chest, so tense it looked like he’d break in two. “This could go very badly. As in, we’ll never see California again.”

  Trent glanced at Nate in the rearview mirror, just a flash of his expressive eyes, but Nate smiled in response. As sappy as it was, Chase envied that kind of communication.

  “Jessica is gonna do the talking,” Chase piped up after a while. “She’s gonna get us in.”

  “How?” Nate pressed. “Just by being herself? She’s amazing, but what if there’s some kind of Comm APB out on her and everyone knows we’re on a public-enemy list?”

  “Because that’s not how the Community functions.” Chase looked out the window again, watching as they sped closer to Midtown with every word. “Even if Richard really is on good terms with the board, and they’ll take his side, there’s no way they’d pull some shit in the CW.”

  “Why not?” Trent asked, glancing in the rearview mirror again. “What’s there to stop them if they have all the Comm members on lock with the brainwashing and realignment and whatnot?”

  “Because . . .” Chase gritted his teeth. “Elijah, can you explain? You’re better at this than me.”

  From the back seat, Chase saw Elijah’s curly hair sway as he glanced to the left at Trent. “The larger part of the Community honestly isn’t like the Farm. There are toxic parts of it, and a weird, frightening culture of silence and blackballing, but when it comes down to it . . . the board wants people to stay loyal so they don’t do dirt out in the open where any rando psy can see it. They won’t mess up this image of perfection or . . . um . . . like goodwill. And that’s what the CW is all about.”

  Trent had started nodding. “So, they’d be too shook to have a showdown when any number of people at the CW, including some new inductees, could see them showing their true colors?”

  “Exactly,” Chase and Elijah said as one.

  Nate didn’t look at ease with the explanation. A quick tap into his mind showed it was full of worries about Trent, and residual guilt for having dragged Trent into it in the first place.

  “Part two of the plan is for most of you bitches to stay ghost,” Chase said, putting a little gruffness into his voice. “There’s no reason for us to go in hot looking like a psychic gang from The Warriors. The crew is me, Holden, Six, and Jessica. You three and Lia can—”

  “If you think you’re going to tell me or Lia what to do, you’ve got another thing coming,” Elijah said. “You’re not the one calling the shots.”

  “Yeah, thank fuck for that, but I don’t see why you four need to potentially get got just because we might.” Chase glanced at Trent and saw no disagreement there. Or from his brother, who likely knew Trent would only stay on the outside if he did as well. “If we get in trouble, we’ll still have a crew on the outside to come for us.”

  “Well, I’m pretty useless as a ‘come for you’ team member,” Elijah said flatly. “Leave Six behind and take me.”

  There was a long list of reasons why that was a shitty idea, but the primary one was that they’d use Elijah as leverage against Chase and cause his brain to go explo
de-y, but he left it alone. Because, as Holden had said back at the house, he shouldn’t be treating Elijah like a child.

  “We’ll see what Jessica says.”

  Twenty minutes later, they were double-parked near the horrific Manhattan Mall, and in a huddle, where Jessica agreed with Elijah about him coming along, but vetoed Six staying behind.

  “They need to hear perspectives about the Farm,” she said. “All of them. And Nate, Lia, and Trent staying out here as our backup keeps them in the position to go unseen by the board in case this all goes wrong.” Jessica paused, her eyes lingering on Lia. “I have firsthand experience that Lia is a kick-ass escape artist. I trust her to come up with something if we’re unable to leave of our own free will.”

  Lia smiled at Jessica, her eyes going soft in a way they rarely did. Huh. Were they having some kind of Mrs. Robinson love connection? But more importantly, how the fuck could he argue with solid logic like that?

  They headed to the CW on foot, leaving Nate, Trent, and Lia to circle the area in one truck. Six and Jessica strode ahead speaking in low tones with Holden on their heels. Elijah lagged behind with Chase, his hands shoved in his pockets and his face downcast.

  “We’re gonna be okay,” Chase said as they approached the high-rise. “I promise.”

  Elijah looked at him, hope brimming at the corners of his eyes. “Did you see—”

  Fuck, it was hard to offer empty platitudes when people always expected you to be dropping precog knowledge.

  “No.” Chase paused at the foot of the stairs and looked down into Elijah’s big brown eyes. There was worry in them, but no fear. He hadn’t been lying when he’d said Elijah was one of the bravest people he’d ever known. “But I have to keep telling myself that because it’s the only way I can justify not putting this mission on time-out so I can make things up to you.”