Ends of the Earth: Gay Romance

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Ends of the Earth: Gay Romance Page 10

by Keira Andrews


  Turning back to the water, she closed her eyes and thought of Declan Michaelson’s birthday party the summer before. She’d been too afraid to jump off the diving tower at the pool, so her dad had climbed up with her.

  “You can do it, Mags. We’ll do it together. One, two, three!”

  He’d held her hand, and they’d flown through the air before hitting the water with a big splash. It was so fun, and she’d wanted to do it again and again. Daddy had jumped with her every time.

  Standing on the very edge of the riverbank, Maggie counted in her head and imagined he was with her, his big hand tight around hers, keeping her safe like always.

  One, two, three!

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The rumble of white water thrummed through the forest, a powerful heartbeat.

  Ben couldn’t imagine why Brown would have ventured that way, but perhaps he hadn’t known the fast-flowing water was there. He’d have to go south as the river cut off his route to the west, but he could still stay hidden for days. Weeks. Months.

  As they neared the throbbing river, a growl vibrated through the air. Ben stopped in his tracks, grabbing Jason’s arm. Jason stared at him, waiting.

  Not a grizzly. A voice.

  “…God damn.” Over the white water’s drone, a man swore faintly. “Motherfuck.”

  Ben had to wrap his arms around Jason from behind, holding him back from barreling onward. Jason’s chest heaved, and Ben whispered in his ear.

  “Be smart. Breathe.” Ben’s heart pounded, and he imagined he could hear the drum of Jason’s as well in a terrible, terrified unison. They were pressed close, and Ben calmed his own breathing until Jason followed suit, quivering in his arms.

  Jason mumbled, “Okay. Slowly.”

  “Slowly,” Ben agreed. “Follow my lead.” Not that he knew what the fuck he was doing, but Jason was all raw emotion and the deep, instinctual desperation imprinted into a parent’s DNA when their child was in danger.

  They veered to the right to approach at a distance. Ben slipped off his pack and crept through the trees. Tension radiated off Jason in waves, but there was nothing Ben could say to calm him at this point. Ben just prayed that Maggie was there. That she wasn’t hurt.

  He couldn’t believe they’d actually found Brown. Blood thundered in his ears as loud as the white water, and his heart was going to shatter his ribcage. He forced an inhalation and exhalation.

  A dilapidated lean-to lay ahead, and Brown suddenly walked into view on one side of it. Jason stared with wide eyes, vibrating but not charging forward, looking to Ben instead.

  What am I supposed to do?

  Jason and Maggie needed him. They needed him to be strong. To take charge. He could do this. He could do this for them.

  He and Jason crept forward, and Ben’s breath lodged in his throat, cold sweat on his neck as he readied the rifle, Brown out of sight again. No sign of Maggie, but one thing at a time.

  Another curse rang out, louder this time. Go, go, go! Ben lunged into the clearing, the rifle jammed into his shoulder, barrel up, twigs snapping under his feet. Brown rounded the lean-to with his handgun raised.

  “We just want the girl,” Ben gritted out. Jason was in his peripheral vision, ready to explode.

  A smile broke over Brown’s scruffy face. “Aw, Daddy to the rescue. Too bad you’re too late.”

  The bottom of Ben’s stomach plummeted, and he tasted bile. Please, no. Please!

  “Where is she?” Jason croaked.

  “Went for a swim, I’m afraid. After I cut her little throat open a few miles back so I wouldn’t have to listen to her fucking questions no more.”

  Grief shot through Ben like a snakebite, poison in his veins, and Jason staggered beside him.

  “No!” Jason cried out. “No. You’re lying!”

  “Why kill her now? You took her so you’d have a hostage when the police closed in.” Ben glanced around as if there’d be glaring evidence that Brown was lying. He had to be lying. Had to be. His throat burned with emotion, and he could only imagine Jason’s horror.

  Harlan shrugged, spitting carelessly on the ground. “More trouble than she was worth after a while. Slowing me down. And shit, the mouth on her.” He sucked his teeth, eyeing Jason with a sneer. “Should have taught that little bitch some manners.”

  Rage burned through Ben, and he pulled the trigger before he could think twice, clipping Harlan in the shoulder as the man dove behind the lean-to. Ben hauled Jason behind him and crouched.

  Now the only thing that separated them from Brown was splintered wood and bark. Ben dared a look around the side by the river. There was no sign of Brown, but he did see a deflating raft.

  “Looks like your boat sprung a leak, Harlan.”

  Aside from the river rushing by, Ben couldn’t hear a thing. He waited, then dared another look, this time around the other side of the dilapidated structure. Fifty yards away, Brown disappeared into the forest. Ben sucked in a breath, but kept the rifle at his shoulder, eyes scanning the trees. As much as he wanted the bastard dead, Brown was far too dangerous to take on, and Ben was happy to leave him to the authorities.

  The minutes ticked by with no movement. Birds chirped faintly over the rush of the river. A chipmunk scurried through the underbrush, Ben training his rifle in that direction until he saw the flash of white-striped tail. The forest went quiet again in the gray murk.

  Beside him, Jason stared blankly, his eyes unfocused. Ben scanned the area again before slowly lowering his rifle. Brown would surely have gotten as far away as possible. It was just Ben and Jason now.

  “Jason…” Ben’s voice sounded hoarse and distant to his own ears. “I’m so sorry.”

  “She can’t be gone. It can’t be true. I…” Jason blinked, opening and closing his mouth. A wail escaped him. “I can’t.”

  Then he collapsed in on himself, hunching forward as sobs racked his slim body. Ben watched helplessly, fighting his own tears. There were no words to make it better. Ben had failed, and all he could do was wrap Jason in his arms and pray for a miracle.

  It was like being in a gigantic washing machine.

  Maggie’s lungs burned as she fought her way back up. The water spun her all around, and she gasped for air. Even with the life jacket, the force of the rapids sucked her under every chance it got.

  The river whirled and thundered, twisting and turning as it swept her along. Ben’s voice echoed in her mind, and she tried to keep her feet pointed downriver. The water was freezing, and her fingers were numb. She wasn’t sure how long it had been since she’d jumped. It seemed like forever and ever, but was probably only minutes.

  Another rapid approached, and she just missed a rock before she corkscrewed down under the water. When she came up again, she gulped for air, coughing and spitting. The river seemed to be slowing. She could barely move her arms and legs, but tried to get closer to the shore.

  Then she saw it.

  At the water’s edge, where the riverbank wasn’t so high, a grizzly leaned over, pawing at something under the surface.

  Maggie held her breath as the river swept her closer and closer. The bear was so big it didn’t look like it could actually be real. Its brown hair was wet, and she prayed it didn’t want to go swimming again.

  I’m a piece of wood. Don’t look up. I’m nothing you want to eat.

  As she drew nearer, Maggie squeezed her eyes shut, her heart beating so hard it sounded really loud even over the noise of the river.

  When she opened her eyes again, she was past. Glancing back, she could see the bear still on the shore, splashing its huge paw into the water.

  She could breathe again, but she was still stuck in the river and it was too cold. Her muscles were so tight she thought she might break apart.

  Rocks jutted out into the river in the distance on the right. As the current brought her closer, she reached out. Her fingers skimmed over the slick surface of the rock, but she couldn’t grab hold.

  Ahead, a low r
umble meant there were more rapids. She kicked harder, swimming sideways toward the shore. Downriver, a fallen tree jutted out into the water. With every ounce of strength she had, Maggie reached out and closed her fist around the slick wood.

  It slipped from her hand as the force of the water carried her away. Just as she cried out, she jolted to a stop. The river rushed by, but she wasn’t moving. After a few seconds, Maggie realized her life jacket was caught on one of the branches.

  She struggled to take hold of the branch that stuck out of the water. After a few tries, she managed to get a solid grip, and swung her left arm over the branch as well. Now she needed to get the life jacket unstuck without being carried off by the current.

  “Daddy!”

  She cried, wishing with all her might that he was there to help her the way he always did. But he wasn’t, and she had to do something even though she was so tired.

  Maggie couldn’t just hang there from the tree, so she reached down with her foot. She knew she shouldn’t, but couldn’t think of another way to get unhooked. Her foot touched another branch under the water that seemed pretty thick. Still holding on tightly with her arms, she tried standing.

  Immediately, her feet slipped off in her heavy hiking boots, and she screamed as she lost her grip. She bobbed under the freezing water, but the life jacket tied her to the tree. Sputtering, she wiped the water from her face and reached out for the branch again. After a few tries, she had the branch in her hand again, her fingers barely able to curl.

  Maggie tried standing again, and this time she managed to keep her balance. The shore was ten feet away, and if she could reach behind and unhook her life jacket from the tree, she could climb on the trunk and crawl to the riverbank.

  She twisted her right arm behind her and felt around for the strap snagged on one of the branches. Her fingers wouldn’t work right, but finally she grabbed hold. She considered taking the life jacket off, but if she lost her balance again, she didn’t want to be in the river without it.

  Trying to stay as still as possible, she worked the strap loose. When she was free, she clung to the tree, afraid to move. Tears fell down her cheeks, and she whimpered, teeth chattering painfully. But she knew her only choice was to keep going, so she slowly worked her way down the length of the tree, hooking her arms through branches and holding on so hard even though she couldn’t feel her fingers.

  When she reached out and touched solid ground, she sobbed harder. Pulling herself up onto the bank of the river, the dirt and grass beneath her were so wonderful to feel. She was almost there, almost free of the tree. As her left knee rested on the earth, she pushed off with her right leg.

  Her foot slipped wildly as the tree suddenly shifted. She cried out as her ankle was caught between the ground and the trunk. Gingerly, she tried to pull her foot free, but it was wedged in tight. She sat up and pushed at the solid weight with all her might.

  It didn’t budge.

  Maggie shivered helplessly. She couldn’t stop more tears as she realized there was nothing she could do to move the tree. It was too big. At least it didn’t really hurt. She was cold all over, almost like she didn’t feel anything at all anymore. For the millionth time, she wished her dad was there to fix it. He always fixed everything.

  Sinking back to the ground, she pressed her cheek to the grass and shut her eyes, wishing and wishing her dad would find her.

  Blinking, Jason lifted his head and peeled a woodchip off his cheek. He was on the ground, Ben huddled close behind him, and—

  Maggie.

  Squeezing his eyes shut, he braced as the grief scoured him all over again, leaving him an open, bleeding wound. He had nothing. He was nothing. This was it. The world had become a black tunnel, and he’d never get out.

  He’d failed. It was his job to keep his baby girl safe.

  Jason prayed he’d wake up and this terrible nightmare would be over. That Maggie would be there in the door of the tent, tickling his foot and telling him he was a lazybones.

  That he would never see her again was impossible. He was still breathing. The planet still spun on its axis—it must since the sun blinked out from behind moving clouds, the weather finally clearing as the afternoon brightened.

  How?

  How was the world still turning? How was he not dead too? He should be. Maggie was everything. How could he still breathe, heart still beat? He should be dead.

  Again and again in his mind he saw it—Harlan Brown’s grin as he mimed slashing Maggie’s throat. Did she know what was happening? How much did it hurt? How long before…

  No. No, no, no.

  His arm was asleep under him, and Jason inched away from Ben’s grasp. Ben had spooned up behind him, and now breathed deeply, his face slack. Jason had cried himself to sleep, and Ben had clearly given in to exhaustion too.

  Pushing to his feet, Jason stumbled and rolled over his ankle, but it didn’t hurt. He was numb now, gazing around at the sun-lit trees, blue sky revealing itself patch by patch. He shivered as the cool breeze whispered, part of him wanting to drop back to the earth and huddle close to Ben—wanting Ben’s strong arms around him again, his deep murmur gentle, his skin smelling of pine.

  Maybe that was just the trees all around, but Jason would always associate it with Ben now.

  He wrapped his arms around his stomach, looking left and right as if there would somehow be an answer. As if Maggie would somehow appear, whole and real and alive.

  Something rustled near his feet, and he blinked at the stark white…pages? Reaching down, Jason’s trembling fingers grazed the paper. Standing tall, he mechanically flattened a page against his thigh.

  He stared at his own drawing, the breath whooshing from his lungs as if he’d been punched in the gut. There were Maggie and Ben on the Road to the Sun, Ben kneeling and pointing to something in the distance of the valley, Maggie beside him in her too-short capri pants, tipping her head to follow the trajectory of Ben’s finger. Jason had drawn them mostly from the back, with just a hint of their faces, eyes alight.

  Through the unbearable ache of grief, fury flowed like the river at his back, crashing over rocks and slicing through solid ground, flooding him.

  Fists clenching, crumpling the paper again, Jason wanted to howl at the moon and tear Harlan Brown apart with his hands and teeth. He wanted to rip into him until he saw bone, until the bastard’s guts stained the earth.

  Eyes darting everywhere, Jason was untethered, his knees about to buckle under the agony.

  Then he saw it.

  It was on the ground beside Ben, resting innocently. Jason’s eyes darted to Ben’s still, handsome face as he took one step, then another.

  Bending, he wrapped his hand around the rifle. It was heavier than he’d imagined, but the weight was reassuring somehow. In the shadow of the lean-to, Ben still slept, and Jason didn’t blame him. He’d done more than Jason could have hoped.

  Now Ben could rest. He was safe, and he’d earned it. Jason’s lips burned to bend and kiss him again, just once.

  If he ever saw Ben again, he’d tell him how grateful he was. For now, he smoothed out the drawing once more and left it tucked in the shelter of the lean-to by Ben’s head. Jason hoped he’d see gratitude in the strokes of charcoal.

  He tread softly in the direction Brown had fled, gripping the rifle with both hands. Once he was far enough away, there was only one thing he could do, vengeance drumming his heart.

  He ran.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Groaning, Ben stretched. Where—

  With a jolt, he opened his eyes, pushing up to sitting, stiff and cramped, remembering. He choked back a sob. Oh, Maggie. I’m so sorry.

  The ground beside him by the lean-to was empty. “Jason?”

  His only answer was the sway of leaves overhead. All was peaceful and still. Too still. Where was Jason? In sunlight blinking through the trees, he scrambled to his feet. Maybe Jason went to piss. Straining, Ben listened for any sounds of life in the nearby bushes. He
could only hear the thump of his own heart.

  “Jason?”

  Ben circled the lean-to and searched the surrounding area, calling out. There was nothing. It was as though Jason had simply vanished. Where could he have gone? They’d both been utterly drained, but Ben hadn’t intended to fall asleep. He’d just wanted Jason to rest, but now here they were.

  Well, here Ben was.

  “Shit, fuck, fuck!” he muttered, searching farther from the lean-to and calling Jason’s name again. Should never have fallen asleep! But the urge to escape the terrible reality and give in to his exhaustion had overwhelmed him.

  Guilt pricked his skin, and he rubbed his face as he neared the river. Then his knees almost buckled as a terrible thought occurred. He raced to the river’s edge, the roiling, silver-tipped water a good ten-foot drop from the bank.

  Of course there was nothing there, because if Jason had jumped, he would be long swept away now. Long dead.

  Ben’s empty stomach clenched, bile in his throat. In his despair, would Jason have tried to end his life? He gazed about frantically, screaming, “Jason!”

  The thought of both Maggie and Jason dead eviscerated him, his guts spilling out as tears sprang to his eyes. He’d only met them less than a week ago, but now they felt as vital as oxygen.

  “Jason!” He ran back to the lean-to, circling it again as if Jason would magically appear.

  Then he staggered to a halt, staring at the ground. The rifle was gone.

  Relief flooded, sweet and pure. It was possible Brown or someone else had taken the weapon and kidnapped Jason without waking Ben, but unlikely. Much more likely was that Jason had slipped away and taken the rifle, chasing after Brown for revenge. Or maybe he planned to shoot himself and end his misery.

  Have to find him!

  Ben jerked on his pack, cursing himself for his failure.

  From the corner of his eye, he spotted a piece of paper in the shadow of the lean-to, skittering a few inches this way and that in the late-afternoon breeze. It had been crumpled and then straightened out, and his breath caught as he took in the drawing of him and Maggie on the Road to the Sun.

 

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