Code Blue (The Sierra View Series Book 3)

by Max Walker

  There was another facet to this. A fear that was growing larger and larger every day. Ethan was scared he was going to lose someone all over again. The thought was unbearable and never put Ethan into a good headspace, but he had been able to work out of it by reminding himself that not all stories had to end the same way. Some of them did have happy endings, and he was determined to make that the case for theirs. He couldn’t imagine the world giving him another blow like it already had. How cruel would that be?

  The world’s a cruel place.

  He had to snap out of it. He shifted on the couch, bringing his head closer to Crow’s. The scent of his fruity shampoo drifted up from his messy bed head. They had spent the entire morning laying in bed, watching old Nanny episodes and enjoying each other’s presence.

  “Anyone down for some cards,” Ethan asked, not getting much of a response from the room. “Ok, never mind.”

  “Sorry, bub, I’m just not in the card playing mood,” Crow said, sounding down. Ethan hated hearing that in his voice. Crow had such an exceptional voice, whether he was singing or reciting a damn recipe. Ethan never wanted that voice to fill with sadness, except he was finding that there was little he could do except just be there for Crow and make sure he knew he wasn’t alone in this.

  “It’s alright,” Ethan said, bringing Crow’s hand up to his lips and placing a gentle kiss on the back. “We can just hang out.”

  “How about some Smash Bros?” Frankie said. “You know what they say about bros before hoes.” He gave a pointed look to Ethan before he cracked into a smile.

  “Alright, alright, let’s do it.” Crow perked up a little. “I call Pikachu.”

  “I thought you were more of a Jigglypuff kinda guy,” Ethan noted.

  Crow put a hand up. “That’s offensive.”

  Ethan and Crow both laughed as they got up to make some room on the couch. The TV had been mounted on the opposite wall and was already plugged into the gaming console, so they didn’t have to do much before the three guys were in a virtual world beating each other up with cartoon characters.

  It was a pretty great stress reliever.

  After a few rounds, Jordan came from the table and asked to join. He sat on the other side of Frankie, jumping in and slaughtering everyone with his surprising skills as Mario.

  “Ok, I’m bored, you guys are no challenge,” Jordan said, getting up once a couple of rounds had finished. “I’m almost finished with my crossword; I’m going to work on that.”

  “A crossword?” Frankie asked. “When were you bitten by a weremother?”

  “A weremother?” Crow asked. Ethan had a feeling he knew where this was going.

  “Yeah, you’ve never heard of it?” Ethan asked, jumping in for Frankie. Crow shook his head, genuinely interested. “It’s an old ancient Nordic sickness. Was discovered a few years back after some ice melted. All over the news, too. You sure you hadn’t heard it?”

  “No,” Crow asked, sounding a little frustrated. He was looking to Ethan, so he didn’t see Frankie starting to crack on his other side.

  “Well,” Ethan started, not even sure what he was about to say, “a weremother is when a grandmother crochets, or works on a crossword puzzle in this case, under a full moon until the sun comes up, turning her into a monstrous beast that can then spread her banal interests through a quick chat at the bus stop.”

  “You’re a fucking asshole,” Crow said, shaking his head and smiling as he realized the joke. “I mean… I honestly should have seen that coming.”

  “You were so interested, I had to,” Ethan said, smiling as he leaned in to kiss his man. Once again, he found himself surprised as how happy he was feeling. Even with all the shit surrounding them, Ethan still felt like he was floating along on Cloud Nine, with Crow at his side.

  They lounged around for a little longer, the bus going on down the highway toward their next stop. Ethan couldn’t believe they were already on the last leg of the tour. It felt like years ago when he was in Sierra View’s break room, getting asked to say yes to something that was going to change his life in so many different ways. He remembered how much doubt he had about taking the job. He had been fine with his routine. Sad, but fine. He was so close to saying no. That thought scared him. He realized now how much he needed this, how much he needed Crow. A reminder that the world wasn’t supposed to be a dark place, it just had its dark moments. And even then, there was always a light switch to be found.

  “Ok,” Frankie said, cutting through the silence. “Honestly, it’s been bugging me. Can we talk about this whole stalker thing? Maybe we can Scooby Gang the shit out of it and figure out who it is.”

  Ethan tensed, feeling Crow shift next to him. “Let’s do it,” Crow said, clapping his hands, apparently choosing to put on a strong face. Ethan admired that about him. “Staying quiet about it isn’t helping, so maybe some more talking will help.”

  Ethan nodded. “Talking usually does. Anyone have any ideas?” Ethan looked around the room. Jordan didn’t look up from his puzzle, while Frankie was looking out the window in thought.

  “Hmm,” Frankie said, clearly taking the Freddy role. “Crow, you don’t have any exes that maybe didn’t take the break-up so well?”

  Crow shook his head. “Nope. I’ve never really even had a serious boyfriend. Not until Ethan.”

  “Ethan, you say?” Frankie looked toward Ethan, arching a playfully suspicious eyebrow before he smiled and went back to looking out the window.

  “And those notes. Is there anything you recognized in them?” Frankie asked. “Handwriting or something?”

  “Nothing,” Crow said, a hand messing up his hair. “Besides the teacup pig thing, which could mean they either fell down a deep internet hole and found my random interview where I mention it, or…”

  “Or it’s someone that knows you well.” Frankie finished Crow’s sentence, the words sounding more ominous than when they were just thoughts in Ethan’s head. Just like Caleb had suggested at the dinner.

  “I feel like it has to be someone you know, or at least that you’ve seen,” Jordan joined in then, looking up from the puzzle. The pencil’s pink eraser was all chewed up. “They were close enough to you to see that you and Ethan were together before it was ever publicly announced. Are there any faces you can remember from the earlier crowds? Faces that kept popping up?”

  Ethan looked down at his hands. He remembered that one girl from the random street encounter. He had already talked about her with Crow, though, and he insisted that she was just a super fan. Ethan had argued that the line between super fan and stalker was getting thinner and thinner, but Crow didn’t see it. He just thought that Angela had overreacted with everything going on and intimidated her, thinking that maybe she was the culprit. Ethan thought that they should talk to Angela about it, but she had been so busy with everything going on, Crow had kept putting it off, thinking it wasn’t very important. Now, he sat up on the couch. “I can’t say for sure,” he said, sounding stressed. “Fuck, if only I paid more attention.”

  “It’s ok,” Ethan said, reaching a hand out and rubbing Crow’s thigh, his sweatpants soft under Ethan’s touch. “No one’s saying you have to remember every face. There was that one girl who bumped into us on the street though,” Ethan said, bringing her up again incase anyone else had a story to share. He was going to bring up the meet and greet situation, but with Angela sitting right there in the middle of the group, he thought it would be wiser to wait until she was alone. She was the type of person that would shelter in place, shutting things out if she was overly stressed and put on the spot in front of other people.

  “Yeah, but she just seems genuinely excited to be following the tour, I don’t know, maybe it’s naive of me, but I don’t get a ‘breaking and entering’ kind of vibe from her,” Crow said. Ethan noticed Angela perk up, but the conversation kept moving before she could ask anything.

  “Beside,” Frankie chimed in, “it’s not unheard of to have people following a m
usician around the tour. Groupies are still a thing.”

  “True,” Jordan said, looking back down at his puzzle before popping back up almost immediately. “Although, the whole broken porcelain doll thing is unheard of. Just sayin’.”

  Ethan felt a shiver crawl down his spine at the mention of that doll. If the stalker wanted to send a clear message, they had certainly done that. Crow and Ethan had talked about the message during one of the nights neither of them could find sleep. Both had been tossing and turning, keeping quiet in hopes that the other could at least find some peaceful shuteye. After an hour of this, Crow spoke first, in a small whisper. “You awake?”

  “Yes,” Ethan said, foregoing the whisper. They both chuckled and turned toward each other. Ethan remembered how happy he was to see Crow’s face etched in soft whites and barely-there oranges from the residual light sneaking in from the lampposts.

  “I spoke with the sheriff,” Angela chimed in, breaking Ethan out of his thought. She was still looking down at her iPad, “before we left, he told me that they had a decent lead. Apparently there was a traffic camera across the street that might have caught whoever did it. They said they’d be in touch as soon as they have news.”

  “Really?” Crow asked, “that’s incredible, why am I just learning about this?”

  “Because it’s not a sure thing yet. The angle might be covered by the bus itself, and then they’ll be back at square one, especially if whoever did it was smart enough to sneak by with a hoodie or something.” Angela sighed, her eyes looking more tired than ever. She must not have been getting much sleep either. “I didn’t want to get your hopes up, Crow.”

  “It would still be good to know,” Crow said, frustration playing in his voice. This entire situation was causing more and more friction. The stress was hanging in the air like a dense fog.

  “Sorry, Crow, I wish I could just stop it all with the press of a button,” Angela said, putting her iPad down. “Trust me, seeing you like this isn’t fun for anyone. We’re all on this tour for you, and it all started off on such a great note. Then, from one second to the next, things turned to shit. It sucks. I wish there was something more I could do.”

  “Seriously,” Frankie joined in. “This sucks for all of us, but I can’t even imagine what you must be feeling, Crow. Fuck, man.”

  “It’s not the best, that’s for sure.” Crow held his shoulders high, even though Ethan could see the weight of this all wearing him down. Ethan was just like the others. He wished there was something more he could do to keep Crow from having to go through this. He was happy that he got to sleep next to him and make sure he felt protected, but that still didn’t feel like it was enough.

  Silence soon followed, the Scooby Gang seemingly disbanded. It wasn’t like they had a long list of suspects to look through. Ethan felt a twist of helplessness grab at his gut. He looked around the room, everyone else trying to get lost in something but their eyes still holding on to that worried feeling.

  “I need to go lay down,” Crow said, getting up from the couch. He didn’t look back at Ethan, just started walking toward the bedroom. Jordan caught Ethan’s eye and nodded in Crow’s direction. He was thinking of giving Crow a little space, but fuck that. He was going to hold Crow in his arms and kiss the top of his head until that man felt ok. He wasn’t going to let him feel this fear on the last few stops of his first national tour.

  Ethan got up and followed Crow to the bedroom, leaving the rest of the gang in their silence.

  23 Crow Kensworth

  He felt like shit. Crow couldn’t shake it off. He was normally good about letting things roll off his shoulders, like water off a damn duck’s back. He didn’t like stressing out about things he couldn’t control, and this was something that was incredibly out of his control. But it wasn’t so much that part of it which caused him the anxiety. It was the fact that Ethan was involved, and from the sound of it, he was becoming a bigger and bigger target. It had all started off feeling like a creepy, off-color joke. Now it was beginning to feel more like a horror movie, complete with the nightmare-inducing porcelain dolls.

  He rolled into bed and threw the comforter over his head. He felt the bed sink moments later when Ethan got in, an arm coming over Crow’s side. Crow felt silent tears start rolling down his cheek, a trail of wet fear rolling down onto the pillow. He didn’t want this to end, and he didn’t want to be forced to end it. On the same token, he was now risking Ethan’s life just by being with him. How fucked up was that? They were supposed to be each other’s saviors, not executioners.

  They laid there for a while, Crow trying to control his emotions while Ethan was pressed against his back, his body warmth coming through the covers. It was exactly what Crow needed, but also a reminder of what had him scared in the first place. He was beginning to think that he didn’t care what the stalker threatened to do to himself, all he was thinking about was what they had planned for Ethan if their relationship continued.

  If.

  Another stab of sadness brought more tears. These weren’t as silent. Crow’s shoulders shook as he tried holding them back. Ethan must have sensed something, because he held Crow even tighter and kissed the back of Crow’s head, which was peaking out from the covers.

  “I’m here, it’s ok.”

  “That’s what I’m scared of, Ethan.” Crow’s voice was tight. He swallowed back more tears. He pulled the covers off his head and rolled over, face to face with the man of his dreams. “They want us apart.”

  “And we won’t give them what they want. For what? So we could live without each other, feeling worse off than before? Giving power to some crazy person who’s going to get caught sooner or later? Absolutely not. I refuse. You’re my world, Crow, and I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”

  Crow wanted to fall deep into what Ethan was saying, but he knew the universe could have a very fucked up sense of humor. He felt like Ethan understood that too, and maybe that’s why he was so certain that he could protect Crow. Maybe because he felt like the universe already fucked things up once, twice would just be overkill.

  Crow took a breath. There were no longer any tears, but there was definitely sadness and fear. Ethan brought a hand up to Crow’s face, his soft palm encompassing Crow’s slightly wet cheek. His thumb rubbed softly. The physical contact helped bring Crow down from his anxiety trip. The serene blue eyes staring back at him helped end the anxiety all together. Ethan was right. As scared as Crow was, he had to believe that the stalker was going to get caught and that nothing was going to happen to them. There was that one traffic camera the police had to look over, and Crow was sure that couldn’t have been the only mix-up. The cops had checked the tour bus over for any evidence and didn’t find any, but that didn’t mean something couldn’t turn up.

  Crow sighed. “What a fucking mess.”

  “For real.” Ethan cracked a gentle smile. He looked so good, even though the bedroom lighting was dim. Ethan had the ability to look good in any lighting. “At least you’ll have material for your song writing.”

  Crow chuckled, surprising himself. “I could become the Stephen King of the pop charts.”

  “Imagine?” Ethan asked, playing along. “All your songs could be crazy upbeat, but the lyrics get more and more fucked up until you end the song with an alien invasion sent over by Satan himself.”

  “I think I’ve read that one.”

  “Or, you could make a love song and people end up realizing that you’re singing it from the perspective of a crazy clown monster. Leave hints like ‘I’ll always love you under the big top’ or ‘baby, run with me through the field of fun house mirrors,’. And then end it with the clown eating someone but make it sound romantic. People will eat that shit up.”

  Crow was laughing now. “We’re on to something here. I could call the album…. ‘Stephen’s Throne.’”

  “I like it. Obscure enough but still poetic. Stephen King. A throne. Perfect.”

  Crow chuckled at the absurdity. E
than was smiling, his eyes glowing bright every time the bus drove past a streetlight. Neither of them could hold back the urge. They both pushed in at the same time, their lips coming together and their bodies moving closer on the bed. It was soft, almost delicate. No tongues, just lips. Slow. Soft. Started at the tip of their toes, climbed up through their thighs, hugging their backs, warming their necks. Crow swallowed a soft moan from Ethan, who’s hands were beginning to explore more of Crow’s body, running over his shorts, past his hip, setting on Crow’s chest. Suddenly, his t-shirt felt like a prison. He had to strip it all off. He had to feel Ethan’s body against his. It was an urge so primal it almost surprised Crow how badly he felt he needed it.

  He sat up in the bed and grabbed the bottom of his shirt. He pulled it off and threw it to the side. Ethan followed suit, throwing his in the pile. They worked on each other’s shorts next. Crow reaching in and grabbing the zipper, pulling it down gently over the already massive bulge. Ethan’s dick gave a rogue throb against the white briefs that were left once the shorts were off. A dark spot stained the tip where Ethan was already leaking. Crow licked his lips and rubbed Ethan’s erection over his briefs, causing him to drop his head back with a groan.

  He wanted to have him in his mouth again. He went down, pulling Ethan’s briefs with him, tugging them off his ankles and throwing them to the side. Ethan’s fat cock bounced free, begging to be licked. Crow more than obliged, running his tongue up and down the shaft, licking around the head, tasting the salty sweetness before sucking Ethan into his mouth, immediately eliciting a grunt and a tensing of thighs. “Fucckk,” Ethan hissed into the air. Crow reached down and pulled his own underwear off, letting his dick out of the tight fabric.