by Abigail Roux
shoulder at them as she passed. She set the tray down on the table and filled it with the empty plates and glasses left there, and as she walked back by, her foot got
tangled as she made eyes at Remy, and she lost her balance.
Remy reached out in a lightning fast movement and grabbed the woman
around her waist as she fell forward. Brandt reached out as well, snagging Remy’s hamburger out of his hand so he could use both hands to catch the smitten woman.
Remy ended up standing, holding the woman with both arms from behind as the tray
of glasses went clattering to the ground. He held her tight, their position close to obscene as he steadied her.
“All right?” Remy asked as he released the woman and held her elbow
gently until she regained her balance. From the look of her when she gazed up at
Remy, though, Brandt didn’t think she would ever regain her balance.
“Yes. I’m so sorry. Oh, my God, I’m not usually that clumsy. How
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embarrassing,” the woman stuttered as she flushed and tried to bow her head to hide her face.
Brandt smiled at her reassuringly, and from the corner of his eye he saw Carl
watching her sympathetically. Remy cooed to her gently and patted her on the back and shoulder, trying to console her, and Brandt looked to Shawn curiously. The older man hadn’t even flinched throughout it all; he would probably have let the woman fall flat on her face, and now he sat watching Remy like a hawk.
It hit Brandt then that Shawn was jealous. Brandt had never considered that
Remy might be bi. The younger man had made no secret of the fact that he was a
bottom, so Brandt had simply assumed he was strictly gay. He couldn’t exactly
bottom in a heterosexual relationship…. Brandt shook his head and told himself not to let his mind wander into that territory. Regardless of his sexual orientation, Remy was being quite charming now, and soon the server giggled and flushed with something
other than embarrassment as Remy murmured to her and helped her pick up the
scattered plates and glasses.
She practically floated away as Remy slid back into the booth, and he smiled
grimly at Brandt when his slightly battered hamburger was returned to him.
“You’re bleeding,” Carl observed quietly, and he nodded at Remy’s arm as
he took an unconcerned sip of his drink.
“Hurt like a son of a bitch, too,” Remy muttered as he twisted to peer at his
own bicep. “Should have let her fall,” he whispered to himself.
“Eat quickly,” Shawn said in clipped tones. “You can plan all you want back
in the room while we rewrap that.”
“I think we’ll need another room for planning, actually,” Brandt said smugly.
They all looked at him curiously.
“You think there was bloodshed?” Remy asked flatly as he chewed quickly.
“Poor Niko.”
“There may have been bloodshed, yeah. But I can almost guarantee you,
they’re shagging,” Brandt said with a wink.
They all stared at him for several seconds, then the quiet activity of eating
continued with simple shrugs and nods.
Brandt grinned across the table at Carl, who raised an eyebrow in question
and winked. Angry, repressed fucks were always the best.
LV
SHAWN led them to one of the other compartments Thiago reserved. He stood beside
the door in the aisle like an irate schoolteacher as they filed past him. Remy gave him a passing glance, but he knew Shawn was angry and embarrassed over not being able
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to hear, so he kept moving and refrained from saying anything.
“All right, lad, you obviously have a plan,” Shawn grumbled as he closed the
door and looked at Remy blankly.
“Well, I do,” Remy acknowledged slowly as he sat on the lower bunk beside
Carl. He licked his lips and looked up at Shawn apologetically. “Sort of. But you’re not going to like it.”
“We’ll just add it the queue of shit I don’t like right now,” Shawn responded
in an angry growl. “Out with it.”
“We all know they’re going to keep coming and coming until either they kill
us all, or the Organization crumbles,” Remy started as he looked around at them all for confirmation of his assertions. They all stared back at him impassively and he cocked his head to the side, wondering if they were even paying attention. “Right…
uh… so, we all know that the seven of us can’t take them on. Even if Thiago did
manage to get his shit together, he’s made it fairly clear that he doesn’t have many men at his disposal. Brandt? Do you know how many others are permanent fixtures,
like you and Gray?”
“Well,” Brandt responded thoughtfully as he crossed his arms and frowned.
“Friday and I were– Gray that is, were the only ones doing the really dirty work.”
“Wait, you mean all this chaos has been caused by three of you?” Shawn
asked disbelievingly.
“Well, obviously there were others here and there,” Brandt said in the same
pensive voice.
The tone alarmed Remy, and he wrinkled his brow and looked from Brandt
to Shawn in concern. Had they finally lost Brandt’s mind for good? Remy knew he
himself was no longer firing on all cylinders; it was entirely probable Carl’s
confessions had kicked Brandt over the edge, too.
“And?” Carl prodded gently.
“I don’t know about them,” Brandt answered as if it were the most obvious
thing in the world. “We were compartmentalized in case we were captured. The only people I had contact with were those two, and the agents I helped set free.”
“So wait, you knew Gray from that raid, right?” Remy asked as the plan he’d
been forming was pushed to the backburner in favor of questioning Brandt and
satisfying his curiosity.
“Yeah.”
“Did it never occur to you that he was part of Thiago’s… whatever it is?
Archer Ring? I mean, you were pretty shocked to see him, before. And then when
Thiago told you his codename you–”
“How do you know that?” Brandt asked accusingly.
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“You don’t think I stood at the door and listened before I walked in?” Remy
asked with a smirk as he thought back on the looks on Brandt and Thiago’s faces
when he surprised them during their argument. “Even if I hadn’t known Thiago was
the Archer, I would have stopped and listened first to a conversation that heated.”
“I knew Gray, yeah, but it just struck me as odd, is all.”
“Why?” Carl asked curiously.
“’Cause he was very loyal,” Brandt said thoughtfully.
“Wait a goddamn minute,” Shawn growled. “First of all, speak the fuck up,
all of you. I can’t hear a bloody thing. Secondly, I’m not following what the fuck you’re talking about, and even if I were, I can’t see how any of it pertains to your mysterious plan that will probably get us all killed,” he said to Remy.
“Well, yeah, okay. Sorry, we got a little off track,” Remy admitted as he
scooted further back into the bottom bunk. Brandt came over and sat on Remy’s other side and pulled Shawn down with him. Shawn fought him half-heartedly, but
eventually allowed himself to be wrangled in and coddled. The four of them sat
stuffed into the lower bunk together, none of them able to actually look at any of the others or even reall
y move, and Remy snickered at the picture they painted.
Shawn sighed heavily and mumbled, and Remy tried to control his laughter.
“Okay, here goes,” Remy said determinedly. “My point before was that
they’ll keep looking for us until they kill us, or we disable them somehow.”
“Disable them?” Shawn repeated doubtfully.
“Yes. More to the point, one of us will have to, well, sacrifice himself to do
it,” Remy told them quietly.
“Oh, and I suppose you’re going to be the one sacrificing, is that it?” Shawn
said angrily as he struggled away from Brandt’s grasp and tried to stand back up.
“Ow! Fuck me!” he growled as he banged his head on the upper bunk. He stood and
glared at Remy as he rubbed the back of his head with his good arm. “I won’t stand for it, Remy,” he said sternly.
“You don’t seem to stand too well, regardless,” Carl observed dryly. Remy
elbowed the bigger man and bit his own lip to keep from smiling. Shawn narrowed
his eyes and Remy sobered immediately.
“Shawn, I–”
“No!” Shawn yelled with a determination that even Remy wasn’t willing to
argue with. He ran his hands through his hair and over his face in agitation, and when he finally looked back at them, Remy wanted to shrink away from the look in his
eyes. “I know what you’re thinking, Remy, and I can’t have you doing it.”
“But Shawn–”
“No. That’s final,” Shawn declared quietly. He looked at them all grimly and
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nodded almost imperceptibly. “I’ll do it.”
LVI.
“I’M tired,” Thiago snarled at them both, “of being betrayed.”
Nikolaus stared back at him with something like fear in his eyes, and Gray
turned back to face him with a hurt look.
“I never betrayed you,” Gray hissed. “I did exactly what you asked of me.”
“And you fucked it up at every turn! You and that fucking Cajun!” Thiago
shouted in frustration. He couldn’t quite pinpoint where his anger came from, nor could he explain to himself the very real need to blame Gray for all that had gone wrong.
He saw the way Gray and Remy treated each other. There was a familiarity
that spoke of something more than simply fucking. It spoke of emotional
involvement, and the thought of Gray emotionally involved with anyone other than
him had Thiago so angry he could barely think.
“I refuse to let you do this again, Thiago,” Gray snarled as he pointed a
finger in Thiago’s face. “You’re fucking with my mind, and it’s not fair to use Remy to do it!” He waved his hands through the air in a gesture that signified the end of the conversation and took a step toward the door.
Thiago reached for him in a burst of movement and slammed the other man
up against the wall with more force than Gray was probably accustomed to. He barely registered the look of rage in Gray’s eyes or the sinking feeling in the pit of his own stomach before his fist connected with the side of Gray’s face.
Gray slid slowly to the ground. Thiago’s world went slightly fuzzy as he
stared down at his lover in something akin to horror. It was one thing to hit another agent during the course of a mission, or even to deck an acquaintance during a
friendly round of drinks. But it was entirely another to hit the man you called your lover during what was decidedly a lover’s spat.
“Hölle, Thiago!” Nikolaus yelled as he scrambled to come to Gray’s aid.
The anger flared again, an uncontrollable force that Thiago could no longer
contain, and he grabbed Nikolaus by the arm before he could reach Gray and shoved him back at the bunks.
“Leave him the fuck alone, Thi,” Gray said as he pushed against the wall and
slid up and to his feet. Thiago rounded on him Gray inclined his head defiantly.
“Don’t become this guy,” Gray told him as he raised his hand to gingerly
swipe the blood from the cut under his eyes. “You’re not this guy.”
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LVII.
CARL knocked on the compartment door gently and waited impatiently for a
response. He didn’t like loitering outside the door, regardless of how thorough their checks were. He knocked again, a little louder this time. They’d worked out the
sleeping and watch arrangements quite easily, after Remy and Shawn finally stopped shouting at one another, and he was there to fill Thiago and the others in on the plan.
They were to stay two to a room, with two men on guard for three-hour
shifts, rotating sleeping shifts. Carl needed to let these three know about it before he started off on his rounds. He knocked once more and looked casually up and down the aisle. At least there was no one in sight. If they were in that compartment fucking instead of answering his knocks, then Carl was going to be removing some limbs
from their owners.
“Hey, Zed?” he called softly and knocked again. There was a brief shuffling,
and Nikolaus finally cracked the door open and peeked out at him. “Whoa, you don’t look so good,” Carl observed with a hint of alarm. “Are you okay? What happened?
Where’s–”
“I’m fine,” Nikolaus said grimly. “Can’t say the same for Gray or Thiago
though,” he added as he opened up the door and let Carl into the compartment.
Gray sat on the edge of the bottom bunk with his elbows resting on his knees
and his head held in his hands. He neither looked up nor moved when Carl entered.
“What happened? Are you all right? Where’s Thiago?” Carl asked in alarm
as he took a step and knelt in front of Gray.
“Gone,” Gray said in a hoarse whisper.
“What do you mean gone?” Carl asked in a harsher voice than he had
intended.
Gray finally looked up at him, and Carl frowned as he took note of the
burgeoning bruise on Gray’s cheekbone.
“Did he do that?” Carl asked as his hand came up to gently run his fingers
over the discolored skin. Gray grabbed his wrist and glared at him before he could make contact. “I’m not going to hurt you, mate,” Carl said gently.
Gray released him and allowed Carl to look over the bruise. It was going to
be a nice one, but Carl had certainly seen worse. The cut on his cheek had probably been made by a ring, but it wouldn’t require stitches.
“Doesn’t look like anything’s cracked or broken. Can you see all right?” Carl
murmured as he looked at Gray’s eye carefully.
Gray nodded.
“Who fought?” Carl asked as he stood back up and looked at Nikolaus,
checking him visually for bruises or cuts.
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Gray and Nikolaus made no secret that there was no love lost between them,
but Nikolaus looked to be unharmed. The German shrugged and looked at Gray with
a frown.
“Thiago did this? Why?” Carl asked before they could answer him.
“We may have pissed him off,” Nikolaus mumbled.
“How?” Carl asked, his concern and growing anger taking a brief back seat
to curiosity.
He’d seen Thiago angry once, maybe twice. Even with all his plans falling
apart around him and one unwelcome surprise after another, Thiago had yet to lose his temper. Well… Gray’s face was telling a different story, but before today, he had yet to lose his temper.
“Doesn’t matter,” Gray said with certainty. “He’ll walk it off and be back
apologizing in ab
out an hour.”
“He does that often, then?” Carl asked angrily as he gestured toward Gray’s
face. The man didn’t flinch away from his waving hand, and that was a good sign as far as Carl was concerned. Thiago never seemed the abusive type to Carl, and he
didn’t want to think of him that way now.
“Not as such, no,” Gray said brusquely. “What did you need?”
Carl frowned at him, but if Gray didn’t want to get into it, then Carl couldn’t
force him. Nikolaus bit his lip and scowled impressively, but Carl nodded all the same and sighed inwardly.
“We’re taking shifts on watch,” he told them resignedly, hoping that
whatever it was between them would work itself out before they were forced to turn and fight. “Rest in pairs, round robin the beds. Try to stay put as best you can, we don’t want our faces getting too much light.” Carl paused and looked down at Gray, who sat dejectedly on the side of the bed looking at Carl’s feet intently. “You sure you’re okay?” he asked finally.
“Yeah. What’s the watch order?” Gray asked without looking up.
“You and I are on now. Niko, Shawn will come get you when it’s your turn.
You should rest up ’til then.”
“Great,” Gray said flatly.
“Anything I should tell Thiago if I see him?” Carl asked carefully before he
turned to go. Gray shook his head and looked up at Carl with determined blue eyes.
“Be careful,” he said quietly.
“Always,” Carl said in a surprised voice. Gray was the last person he would
have expected to worry about him. “Is there any particular reason I should be?” he asked suspiciously.
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“Thiago’s in a rage,” Gray said seriously as he looked up and into Carl’s
eyes unwaveringly. “There’s never any telling what he’ll do when he’s like this.”
LVIII.
“I won’t let you do it,” Remy declared heatedly as soon as Brandt and Carl had left Shawn alone with him.