Changing Tides

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Changing Tides Page 9

by Simone Anderson


  “Stop.” Orion pulled at his hands, holding them.

  Brett squeezed his eyes shut then opened them, realizing Orion was waiting for him.

  “I understand. You need time. I’ll be here when you’re ready to talk about it.”

  “I don’t deserve you,” Brett said, wrapping his arms around Orion and hugging him tight. “I don’t. But so help me, I can’t let you go.”

  “Not asking you to.” Orion turned his head and kissed Brett’s neck.

  “I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” Brett whispered. His father would pay. Brett would do everything in his power to keep Orion safe, though.

  Reluctantly, they parted and walked the remainder of the way in silence. The doors to the situation room opened, and the noise rolled over them. There were more people present. There was no doubt this was the command center of the group’s operations. Brett bit his lip and wondered how many other cells there were. Were they all individually run, or was there an overall master plan.

  Spotting Paul, he pushed the questions aside and squeezed Orion’s hand.

  “I’ll be right back, sweetheart. I need to return this to Paul,” Brett said, lifting up the bag containing the laptop for Orion to see.

  Orion nodded. The uncertainty and concern that had filled his brown eyes earlier was gone, replaced by a near emotionless mask. It was a look Brett had seen often on his man. It was more survival instinct than the knowledge that people needed a strong leader who could be both decisive and understanding.

  “Paul, can I have a moment?” Brett asked, catching the older man’s attention.

  Paul nodded and moved to a corner of the room devoid of people.

  “I wanted to return this,” Brett said, handing over the computer.

  “I take it you’ve watched the video.”

  Brett inhaled sharply and lowered his voice. “I have.”

  “And?” Paul took the computer and set it on a nearby desk before crossing his arms.

  “I have a favor to ask.” Brett stomach knotted. Anger pushed aside any vestiges of guilt about what he was about to do. “You have a copy of the video, correct?”

  “I do.”

  “Can you edit a copy to show just the last portion, from where Colonel DeMarco comes in, and send it anonymously to Doctors Richard and Sarah Prescott?”

  “Why? Why would I risk that?”

  “They are his—Taren’s—parents. They were never told what happened. None of us were. I want them to know the truth.”

  “Is that it?”

  Brett took a deep breath then let it out slowly. “No. I want my father destroyed. There has to be more footage or records. I want it made known to everyone what he did, but I also want to know if anyone else ordered it. If possible, I want all of the names of the people involved in Taren’s kidnapping, torture and murder posted.”

  “Why?”

  “So they can’t hide behind their atrocities. So there is proof. So they can die. Painfully.”

  “Revenge won’t bring him back.”

  “No, it won’t. But in the long term, I need to make sure my father doesn’t hurt anyone again and more importantly that Orion stays safe. He won’t be safe until I know my father and his cronies are dead.”

  “Orion will never be safe,” Paul said quietly.

  Brett shook his head. “He’ll be safe from my father. I won’t let Orion get hurt or die, just because I care about him.”

  Paul looked at him for several long minutes before nodding. “Once done, it can’t be undone. This video is going to be seen by a lot of people.”

  “I know. That’s why I’d like the Prescotts to know first. So, they have time to digest it before everyone else sees it.”

  Paul nodded and retrieved the computer. Brett thanked him and turned to find Orion. He would need to tell Orion why the video was important. Not now though. Now, they had other things to deal with.

  “Everything taken care of?” Orion asked as Brett walked up to him, his voice little more than a whisper.

  “For now, yes.” Brett wanted nothing more than to pull Orion into his arms and keep him safe. To calm the pounding in his chest. He didn’t. He stepped back and smiled.

  Orion’s voice was getting stronger, he wrote fewer notes, and Brett knew it would be only a matter of time before Orion didn’t need him to read or say anything for him. He would have to focus on finding ways to continue to help Orion. Several times over the last two days he’d acted as Orion’s messenger, running messages and information between areas. Only Orion and a couple others spent the entire day in the briefing room. Most people disappeared down halls and corridors Brett still couldn’t navigate alone. He knew where major offices and areas were, but anything beyond that he had no idea.

  Today, the semi-chaotic atmosphere of the room hinted at something serious. Pushing everything else aside, he stayed near Orion and waited to hear what was going on. Orion sat at the large, crowded table dominating the room. People continued to mill around the various stations butting up against the walls.

  Orion pushed his notepad over to Brett.

  “First things first, what is the status of the protesters?” Brett read aloud.

  “Security forces are protecting the government buildings and escorting people to and from the buildings, but they haven’t acted against the protesters yet.” The answer came from a woman Brett recognized but couldn’t place. Sabrina something or other.

  “Maybe, they’re waiting for them to act first?” Brett suggested.

  Beside him, Orion shook his head.

  “They’ve shot at peaceful protesters before,” Carter said flatly. “What’s different this time?”

  “The international community is putting pressure on General Landry,” Paul replied.

  Orion scribbled a note on the paper.

  “Over what?” Brett read.

  “I’m not sure. I’m only catching bits and pieces. And I don’t understand all of the languages spoken. It’s possible that the report on the truth behind the institutions might have gotten out,” Paul said shaking his head. “There’s simply too much we don’t know.”

  Orion wrote more notes for Brett to share.

  “We’ll have to worry about other countries later. Right now, they are a liability. Dependency on them for anything could cause problems. We need to think about the protesters, how they affect us and how to ensure they don’t turn on us.”

  * * * *

  Brett stretched before reaching for the bottle of water he’d had with lunch. Morning discussions had lasted through lunch and into the early evening. They could only wait to see what the government was going to do, but tensions were growing around the country. Everyone was reporting on the presence of protesters. Security forces were also present, however, they weren’t attacking. Yet. It was only a matter of time before they would. Brett knew it in his soul. So did the others. Protest had never gone on for more than a few hours before the government had intervened. The demonstrations had grown violent when security forces broke them up. Now, Brett wondered if there had actually been violence on the part of the protesters.

  Orion stood and waved Thompson over then handed him a note. Thompson nodded and disappeared from the command center, quickly reappearing. Several minutes later, Jackson walked in carrying an assault rifle. A second one was slung across his back. He handed one of the weapons to Orion who checked and cleared it. Orion withdrew his side arm and presented it grip first to Brett.

  “What’s this for?” Brett asked, taking the gun.

  “We need to procure supplies,” Thompson answered. “Ready, Sir?”

  Orion nodded.

  Brett took a deep breath then let it out slowly as he followed Orion out of the room and through a maze of corridors. Thompson and Jackson followed them. Two women and two more men joined them along the way. The group ended up in a partially empty warehouse.

  Brett shivered and scanned the area. Debris littered the floor, and cobwebs graced windows and doors wh
ile years of dirt and grime covered everything. Hidden in the shadows, creatures scurried around. Beside him, Orion directed Jackson and one of the women up a set of metal stairs to the catwalk and loft. Thompson and the other woman took positions near the front of the building on the left and the two other men took the opposite side, while Brett waited with Orion farther back.

  “Do not shoot unless they shoot first,” Orion said firmly.

  “Why didn’t you tell me before we left?” Brett asked, trying to piece together what was going on.

  “I only learned people were needed while you were talking to Paul,” Orion answered. “Take cover over there. Liz will take care of any negotiations. Stay out of sight.”

  “Liz is the one by Thompson? Short brown hair.”

  “Yes.”

  Brett nodded and picked his way over to a pile of rubbish. Standing behind a long abandoned piece of machinery, he briefly wondered what it had been used for before he took a position that allowed him to see everything around him as well as keep an eye on Orion. Whatever they were here for, his first duty was Orion’s safety. He couldn’t let the younger man get captured or killed.

  Time slipped by as they waited. Darkness began to fall, the night air chilling. Voices and the rare vehicle driving by broke the silence. Remaining alert and focused with no clear focal point wore on Brett. His muscles were tense and braced for action.

  Metal creaked, as the door at the front of the warehouse opened. Brett shifted his stance, making sure he had a clear view. Forcing himself to take slow breaths to counteract the pounding in his chest, he watched a rusted gray van pull through. A man slipped inside, pulling the doors closed with him. The van turned around to face outward before coming to a stop.

  Liz appeared from her hiding place. The sound of a round being chambered echoed throughout the nearly empty building. The last vestiges of sunlight shone through the broken glass, painting the room in pastels and giving the area a haunted look. The man and the vehicle’s driver moved to the rear of the van. Brett strained to hear what was being said. He flipped the safety off his gun and wished for something more powerful. The rear doors opened. Liz pulled out a small flashlight and swept it over the contents. The two men who had joined them when Liz and the other woman had moved from their hiding spot. Eight boxes were quickly unloaded and stacked off to the side. More words along with an envelope were exchanged before the vehicle left the same way it had come. Outside night had fully descended. Brett looked through the glassless windows. Streetlights lined the street, but none had turned on. Several minutes later, Liz waved them in. Brett flipped the weapon back to safety and tucked it into the back of his pants before joining the rest of the group near the boxes.

  “Take five. Leave the rest,” Orion ordered, before knocking twice on a piece of metal debris. He paused then knocked two more times.

  “We need to move fast. Security forces are starting to push into the old city,” Liz said quietly.

  Brett looked at the stack and frowned. Five boxes between the eight of them wasn’t a problem. But, if he carried supplies he couldn’t watch out for Orion.

  “I’ve got him,” Thompson murmured, gripping the rifle.

  Brett nodded.

  One of the men opened the top of each carton and searched them briefly before giving the go ahead to grab them. Stepping up, Brett lifted a box as did Orion. Everyone but Thompson, Jackson and Liz carried a box. Orion led the way back with Thompson by his side and Liz and Jackson bringing up the rear. Once back into the maze of tunnels, Brett let himself relax slightly. After the supplies were deposited in the right areas, Thompson and Jackson accompanied Brett and Orion back to their room before disappearing. It was well into the early morning before they dropped into bed.

  Chapter Eight

  Orion pushed himself up onto his elbows and watched the man sleeping next to him. Even in exhaustion Brett’s dreams came, haunting him. Orion couldn’t help but wonder who this Doctor Taren Prescott was, what he had been to Brett and what had been on the video. He was certain it concerned the man Brett had asked about, but neither Brett nor Paul had been willing to tell him what was on it. Orion tamped down his rising jealousy. He had no rights to Brett. Past, present or future, it was all beyond him and what he wanted or felt.

  Brett’s face distorted in pain and fear as he silently battled his dreams. Whoever the man was, whatever was in that video, Orion’s man wasn’t talking. Not to him at least. Frowning, Orion recalled the conversation between Brett and Paul. Whatever was said, any hint of mistrust Paul had once was gone.

  Orion shoved a hand through his hair and forced several calming breaths. He wanted Brett to trust him, to talk to him. Already, Brett had insinuated himself into Orion’s life. He was always nearby, watching. Orion caught his bottom lip between his teeth. Was it out of control or concern? Now more than ever, he needed to know what Brett thought. Too much was riding on the coming events. He wanted, no he needed, to be able to trust Brett. To know he could lean on the older man.

  Orion had gone years without getting close to someone, yet Brett had burrowed into his heart without his consent. They hadn’t even dated, not like he knew his friend Jonah Miller had dated his boyfriend, now fiancée. There had been no dinners, no movies and no long walks anywhere. Just snatches of time when he was supposed to be exercising. There had been no long conversations. There hadn’t been a lot of anything between them, only secrets and missed opportunities. It couldn’t have been helped then.

  He ached to reach out and touch the other man. He prayed there wasn’t too much between them for it to work. He was quickly falling for the older man. It was too easy to imagine Brett with him always.

  Brett groaned in his sleep, and Orion reached out and ran a hand along his cheek, soothing him. Brett’s eyes opened, and he stared up at Orion, taking several minutes to focus on him as the last of the dream faded.

  “I didn’t mean to wake you,” Orion said softly, pushing himself to a sitting position.

  “It’s okay. I’m glad. My dreams haven’t been the best lately,” Brett admitted, pulling Orion down until he was atop him. “God, you’re gorgeous.” Brett ran his hands up and down Orion’s arms before running them over his chest. “I’ve never seen a chest this bare on a man before. Not that I don’t like it. I do.”

  Orion bit his lip. Trust. It had to go both ways.

  “I did it on purpose.” Orion held his breath. He could do this. He could tell at least one person about part of his life. Eventually, he wanted to be able to tell Brett the whole story. Everything in his life was intertwined with the movement and his future. One step at a time.

  “Why, baby?” Brett’s hands rubbed over Orion’s torso and hips before playing at the sensitive part of his inner thigh.

  Orion sucked in a breath. He loved the way Brett touched him. “I wanted people to think I was stupid.”

  “You don’t have hair anywhere but on your head, though.”

  “I had it permanently removed.”

  “How?”

  “Creams and this electrical thing at one point,” Orion answered, biting his lip to suppress a groan when Brett cupped his cock and balls. The creams hadn’t been too bad. There had been stinging and some burning, but the machine had been pure hell. He’d bitten down on gag in an effort to stop screaming. It had been worth it. The lack of hair reinforced the idea that he was stupid. He had no idea where the correlation had come from, only that his parents and their friends had mentioned it on more than one occasion to him. His father had taken him aside when he was younger and had told him that he needed to remain hairless no matter what and how he could accomplish the task he needed to.

  “What about the long hair then?”

  “That was Reynolds’ idea. He wanted to remind me that I wasn’t the same as everyone else, that he had control of every part of my life.”

  “Take them off for me,” Brett said, pushing at the shorts Orion had worn to bed and pulling him from his thoughts.

  Or
ion nodded and jumped down, making quick work of his clothes before climbing back onto bed. Brett had removed his own shorts and shoved the bedding aside. Orion stopped, staring down at the powerful body openly displayed for him. Sharply defined muscles alluded to a strength that could be utterly devastating.

  “How old were you?” Brett asked, tugging Orion back onto him. Orion’s legs settled on either side of Brett’s hips.

  Orion sucked in breath. Brett’s long, thick cock pressed against his ass. He took several breaths before he trusted himself to speak in full, coherent sentences. “I’ve never had much hair. I think it was a side effect of something, so I shaved it or pulled it out for a while before I was able to have taken off permanently.”

  “A side effect of what?” Brett asked flatly.

  “Just before my parents died, I was given this vile concoction to drink. It paralyzed my vocal chords. I also think it stunted my growth and stopped my body hair from growing.”

  “Why would your parents allow that?”

  “They told me it was stop the stuttering,” Orion said, wincing internally at the half-lie. His parents had told him it was keep him from stuttering, but there had been more to it than that. It would help him attain a position they could benefit from.

  “I see.” Brett ran his fingers up and down Orion’s body. “Were you—did you get picked on because of it?”

  “Yes and it sucked, but I don’t want to talk about that right now. I just want to enjoy you and your fantastic hands,” Orion said. He didn’t want to open those doors. The memories. He’d been called names, pushed, kicked and shoved while adults had looked away. He was different. He knew it. He might not have expected what had happened, but it didn’t change why he did it or what he needed to do with his life.

  “Why did you want people to think you were stupid, sweetheart? How did they not know the incredible intelligence you have?” Brett rubbed Orion’s back, his fingers played with Orion’s ass.

  “If people assumed I was too stupid to understand what was going on, they would talk freer. They didn’t see anything different because they didn’t want to and because I did nothing to change their opinions.”

 

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