Survival Instinct: Brian Book One (Van Zant Siblings 1)

by Roxy Harte

  Using his firmest voice, he commanded, “Get your ass on that trail. You are going down with the rest of us. Now!’

  Brian lifted his chin, met his gaze, and said, “No.”

  Hawk shook his head, more angry and frustrated than he’d been in a very long time. “If you see us having any future relationship, you will do as I say. I won’t ask again.”

  Brian’s answer was to go deeper into the cave, leaving Hawk no recourse but to make good on his threat and leave him there with the full protection detail assigned by Agent Miller.

  ♥

  Two days later, Hawk guided the group from the Montana Center for Archaeological Research up to the cave. After meeting Harriet Whitehead, Hawk elected to take the party on the long trail around the mountain and up, which meant two full days walking and a night of winter camping, but there was strenuous climbing involved. Just a slow steady walk, and since Harriet Whitehead appeared to be as old as time, Hawk refused to take any chances.

  “Dr. Whitehead!” Brian exited the cave beaming.

  “Brian.” She shook her head and held open her arms. “Do we really have to start over again?”

  Brian blushed and chuckled shyly. “Welcome to the Bitterroot Enclave, Harriet.”

  The corners of her eyes crinkled as she broke into a wide smile and linked her arm with Brian’s. “Show me.”

  Hawk frowned, realizing Brian’s other arm was held in a makeshift sling and Hawk worried infection had set in, but Hawk didn’t approach him. He watched from the sidelines, not approaching Brian—aside from catching a few longing-filled glances cast by Brian, which gave Hawk a kernel of hope they might have a chance, Brian maintained his distance and indifference.

  He knew his own behavior was at fault.

  Harriet Whitehead exited the cave with wide eyes and lowered herself into a camp chair. She spent an exorbitant amount of time typing into her phone. Ignoring all effort’s by Brian to provide her with refreshments. Hawk’s heart ached for him as he sat in a nylon chair across from her and waited. When she set aside her phone and finally met Brian’s gaze, Hawk could feel his lover’s trepidation. He moved a bit closer to hear what she was saying to Brian and caught the words “grant, position, and exhibit.” To someone in archeological circles it might make sense; but for Hawk, he was left guessing beyond the assumption a grant was a good thing and would provide funds for the proposed dig. His only thought at that point was how to break the news to his grandfather that part of their tribal history was going to be desecrated.

  Brian stood and his smile told him that whatever she had said to him was received well. He hoped Brian would be given the credit he deserved, which sat at direct odds with what he should be thinking and feeling as the future leader of his people. When Brian looked his way, his smile fled. Hawk turned away, not wanting his troubled expression to dampen Brian’s joy, but he had a feeling it was already too late for that.

  As much as Hawk’s head told him to walk away, give-up on having a relationship with the infuriating man, his heart had already imprinted on Dr. Brian Van Zant. Every moment apart from him was unbearable, but at the end of Whitehead’s visit, he left the Bitterroot Van Zant Enclave and returned to the trail without having said hello or goodbye. For the next eleven days, Hawk returned to the cave with transported supplies to aid Brian’s establishment of a field camp and basically made Brian’s every need a top priority. Including picking up obscure items from the arts and crafts store in town. When he’d found a small note in Brian’s handwriting listing a sketch pad, charcoal pencils, and a small, corked glass vial, he scratched his head and obtain the items.

  Through it all, days and days of errands, Hawk and Brian used one of the guards to relay necessary communications. Hawk’s was always a request for a list of supplies needed, and Brian’s answer was always a handwritten list. Neither made any attempt to speak to the other, although every day Hawk arrived with hope in his heart.

  BRIAN STARED AT the photos of Michael and Brandon he’d kept tucked in his wallet and cried. “I’m sorry I failed you. I know I should have answered your calls, and I am so sorry I didn’t, because maybe I could have said or did something to avert what happened next. The truth is I loved you so fucking much, I couldn’t forgive you for the pain you caused me. Caused us. I see the truth now. I couldn’t save you. I couldn’t save either one of you. You were both so self-destructive, like moths drawn to the flame. You were each both moth and flame. In the end, all you could do was cling to each other as you burned each other up. I hope you’re at peace now. I hope you’re willing to allow me to be at peace now.”

  Brian took a deep breath and lifted Michael’s picture. Striking a lighter, he caught the edge of the glossy photograph on flame. “I forgive you.”

  He held the burning piece of paper until all that remained was ash and his fingertips were singed. He lifted Brandon’s picture next and it was like looking at a photo of himself. “I will never understand any of this. I will never have the question ‘Why?’ answered, but I will be free of the anger and resentment in your role in my marriage’s collapse. And I acknowledge that I am as equally guilty as Michael in allowing our marriage to become so weak that it provided the right environment for my husband to cheat on me. I don’t hate you. I love you. I forgive you and I hope you can forgive me for my part in this travesty.”

  Brian held the picture against his chest and sobbed. When he was cried out, he lifted the lighter and set his twin’s image on fire. He put the ashes in a small vial and sealed it with a cork before shoving it into his pocket. When his ritualistic release was complete, Brian walked out onto the ledge.

  Most of the snow was gone now and the air seemed clean and crisp.

  It was too dark to see the scorched earth below the ledge or the remains of the burned out helicopter. One of the guards had said he believed it would be spring before any attempt would be made to clear away the debris. It had only been a few days before that a team had finished collecting what they could find of the human remains of three men.

  If he thought about that night too long, the panic he’d felt believing Hawk had died returned, and he would be left doubled over, gasping, hyperventilating, and vomiting. A part of him wanted to believe his encounter with Tobias Red Hawk had been a mistake. He wanted to be angry. He wanted to feel mistreated by a medical professional. But the truth was that he didn’t. Maybe their affair wasn’t ethical and maybe it was unprofessional, but the one thing it wasn’t was a mistake. Every night, every single fucking night, Hawk appeared in his dreams, whispering, “Mine.”

  ON THE TWELFTH approach up the mountain, Hawk saw Brian from afar. At first he wasn’t sure he was seeing, but the image gradually became discernible. Brian was sitting on a canvas rucksack, and looking down on the approach. When he stood, he lifted his hand. Hawk wasn’t sure if it was greeting or warning, but he quickened his pace.

  Brian started toward him and partially down the trail they faced each other. He waited for Brian to say something but he remained silent. He lifted his hand toward Hawk’s face but stopped without touching. He dropped his hand and Hawk realized that for a moment his heart had stopped beating the need was so strong for Brian to make the first move. Did that count?

  Hawk lifted his hand and mimicked what Brian had done, holding his hand about an inch away from Brian’s cheek. Brian pushed his bearded face against Hawk’s palm and closed his eyes. Okay, that definitely counted.

  Brian rubbed against him and exhaled the word, “Please,” breathily.

  “Open your eyes,” Hawk commanded.

  He opened his eyes and met Hawk’s gaze. Hawk wrapped his fingers around the back of Brian’s head and lowered his mouth, kissing Brian possessively. Into the depth of Hawk’s mouth, Brian said softly, “Yours,” then pulled away, adding, “If you want—”

  Hawk pulled him back into the kiss and grazed his lips slowly, gently, tasting the man like one starved. “You will obey me?”

  “Are you willing to negotiate terms
?”

  Hawk studied Brian’s face. “What are you worried about? How your job fits in between us?”

  Brian nodded and a tear slid down his cheek.

  “I don’t want control over your career, Brian, but if I fear you are neglecting your health by not eating enough, or because you are not sleeping enough, I will help you establish work boundaries.”

  “Sometimes I need the voice of reason,” Brian agreed.

  “I’m glad to hear it, because I’m not leaving this mountain without you.”

  Brian sucked in a deep breath that sounded an awful lot like a shocked gasp.

  “I have kept my end of this bargain, Dr. Van Zant. The steel gate has been installed and volunteer armed members of the tribe will rotate shifts to stand guard around the clock until your work here is done.” Hawk added, “You stink, come home and shower.”

  Brian snorted. “I won’t deny a shower would be nice.”

  “And a soft bed?”

  Brian moaned in answer. “Please, take me home.”

  BRIAN STOOD IN THE shower above Sarah’s diner until the hot water was gone and the spray turned so cold he was shivering. He’d known they wouldn’t be going to Hawk’s cabin, and when Hawk had informed him that he’d be staying at Sarah’s, he’d felt a mixture of relief and disappointment. The truth was, having killed a man in Hawk’s great room, he never wanted to see the place again; but on the other hand, he really wanted to spend every minute he wasn’t on the mountain with Hawk.

  Brian cleaned up his beard, shaping it, but not shaving it off. He liked the difference. He didn’t feel like he was looking at Brandon anymore. He actually smiled at his reflection. On the mountain he’d lost even more weight, resulting in hollow cheeks and higher, sharper cheekbones.

  He looked older and wiser than the man who’d left Cincinnati.

  Leaving the bathroom, a towel slung around his waist, he’d hoped Hawk would be waiting for him. He wasn’t. Brian glanced around the room, feeling lost and slightly abandoned, but then saw his emptied duffle on the bed. All of the dirty clothes were gone and his sketchpad and charcoal pencils were all that was left within. Brian laid both on the bed and folded the bag for storage.

  The closet door stood open, and he saw that the inner rod was half filled with clothing that wasn’t his. Hawk’s?

  He checked the chest of drawers and found a similar condition. The drawers were divided by an invisible center line, one half filled with clothing that wasn’t his and then the empty half.

  A clean shirt, underwear, jeans and socks waited for him on the padded stool at the foot of the bed. His hiking boots were tucked under. He dressed quickly and forced himself to go downstairs in an effort to be sociable—even though the soft bed was calling to him. He found Hawk and Shadow at the bar. The diner was completely deserted. “Where did everybody go?”

  Hawk looked up from his bowl of chili, which he’d been contemplating instead of eating. “Storm coming.”

  “No way,” Brian exclaimed. “That’s why you forced me off the mountain today?”

  “Yep.”

  “The last snow hasn’t completely melted yet.”

  “It may not before spring. Winter is shaping up to be cold and white.”

  “Damn it. It’s only October.”

  “Winter comes early around here.” Hawk shrugged. “I didn’t think you’d leave if you knew another blizzard was predicted, and I couldn’t risk you getting trapped up there.”

  “But the skies are blue. There’s no wind.”

  “Animals told me.”

  Brian laughed out loud. “Right. Don’t scare me like that. Seriously, where are all the customers?”

  “I’d say they’re stocking up on basic supplies.”

  “Because you told them a storm was coming?”

  Hawk didn’t comment. Sitting on a bar stool, Brian rolled his eyes, but looking over his shoulders through the large café window, he saw a front of low, dark clouds moving in. Great. He was suddenly glad he wouldn’t be spending the night on the mountain but immediately became concerned about the men they’d left up there. “The two guards —”

  Hawk interrupted him. “Were instructed to leave the mountain as soon as we were out of their sight. According to meteorologists, the storm coming in is much bigger than the last one. No one will chance a break-in, and as soon as the storm clears, the guards will be back in position.”

  “But what if someone tries?”

  “They’ll die on the mountain.”

  His answer held so much conviction, Brian believed him. He caught Hawk’s gaze and waggled his eyebrows. “I no longer stink.”

  Hawk leaned over and sniffed his neck. “Nice. Cologne, too. Hot date?”

  “Hope so.”

  Hawk bit his neck. “God, I’ve missed you.”

  Brian pulled back, looking surprised. “You’ve seen me every day.”

  “Mmm. Yes, you tortured me with the longing glances you cast my way.”

  “No, that was you. It was very hard not to drop onto my knees at your feet every time you arrived, or chase after you when you left without a backward glance.”

  “What do you have in mind for this hot date?”

  Brian smiled, blushing. “I was thinking dinner and a movie.”

  Hawk reached between his legs and grabbed his crotch. “I got your dinner and a movie.”

  Brian snickered. “Eat a little cock, reenact The Last of the Mohicans?”

  Hawk slid off his bar stool and pulled Brian into his arms. “Something like that, but starring a bona fide savage.”

  A graveled throat cleared behind them, making them both jump. Turning around, Brian faced a wrinkled old man with long white hair. Hawk stood. “Grandfather.”

  The old man leaned heavily on a roughly carved walking stick. Angrily he dropped a newspaper on the bar in front of Hawk. “You did not tell me about this.”

  Brian glanced at the headline with surprise. Hawk didn’t even look down as he attempted to soothe his grandfather. “Very powerful men have decided they want the rock for themselves. As long as it was a secret, it was in danger of being stolen. Now, it will be protected.”

  “The cave is sacred land.”

  “It will always be so.”

  While the two men argued, Brian picked up the newspaper and started reading.

  ———

  Bitterroot Cave Painting Discovery

  The Montana Center for Archaeological Research has announced a major archaeological discovery in the Bitterroot Mountain Range in Montana. Discovered only a hundred yards from a trail forged by Meriwether Lewis and William Clark in the early eighteen hundreds, the deep cave is filled with hundreds of drawings, carvings, and pottery shards purported to be more than two thousand years old; but it is suspected carbon dating could date the actual cave drawings as much older, perhaps rivaling the 2013 discovery in southern Tennessee, which dated at six thousand years old. Like those drawings, the Montana discovery reveals clues to early Native American life. Many of the drawing depicted humans alongside animal forms, suggesting a working relationship. One rather imposing drawing, depicting celestial designs suggest a tie between universe, time, and seasons.

  It was not disclosed as to whether any human remains were found.

  Dr. Brian Van Zant, a visiting archaeologist from Ohio, made the discovery of a lifetime when he stumbled upon a site being destroyed by vandals. Local police and park rangers were called in to secure the area while Van Zant contacted the Montana Center for Archaeological Research at the University of Montana.

  The site was visited by MCAR’s Regional Archaeologist Harriet Whitehead. “This is a stunning find,” commented Whitehead. “The walls and ceiling contain hundreds of drawings, documenting day to day tasks, planting, hunting. Some of the panels depict what would be typically seen as women’s work: beading, basket weaving, and in one instance a very clearly pregnant woman and what can only be described as children playing at her feet while she works. Remarkable, just
remarkable. This is the most significant discovery in MCAR’s history.”

  Photographs were not being permitted at the time of this writing, and it is believed it may be several years before the public is given a glimpse of the true wonder hidden in the cave’s deepest recesses. In the interest of security, the location of the cave is being kept secret.

  It is interesting to note these drawings are beyond the reach of natural light, suggesting they were drawn by torchlight with confirmed remnants of bark torches also discovered.

  Jason Moyer, Director of MCAR, stated, “The full impact of this discovery has yet to be determined but I am pleased to announce that Dr. Brian Van Zant has accepted the position as chief archaeologist and will be putting together a team. This will be a painstaking process projected to take many years to discover all the secrets hidden in this cave.”

  ———

  The argument ended suddenly, drawing Brian’s attention to the abrupt calm. The old man led Hawk to a table where they sat. They spoke softly and briefly before his grandfather stood and walked away from the table and left the restaurant. Brian’s gaze went back to Hawk; a pouch lay in the center of the tabletop. Hawk picked it up and closed it in his fist before slamming his fist down against the Formica.

  Brian stood and hurried to join Hawk. Tears were sliding down his face. Squatting beside him, Brian rested his hand on Hawk’s knee and looked up into his grief-stricken face. “What is it?”

  “He said if I am going to make decisions for the tribe, it was time I wore his mantle.” He opened his hand to reveal the small pouch. “This was his way of transferring his authority to me.”

  Brian tried to understand why Hawk was so upset and failed. “You said yourself you have been trained your entire life to follow in your grandfather’s footsteps as your tribe’s leader and medicine man.”

  “Yes.” Hawk closed his eyes. “He has gone to take a final walk across the ridge.”