Back then, Jared had clung to his older brother every time the turbulent waves threatened to take him under. These last few days had been no different. Even though Jared saw hurt, pain, anger every time he looked into Declan’s tortured grey eyes, Declan never showed those emotions anywhere else. It was all Jared could do to hold onto that strength again, when the waves of uncertainty and fear threatened every day to pull him under and make him drown.
It was that hold on Declan, that connection, that told Jared he was safe. That even though their father, their home, were gone, Jared was still part of a family. That he was no longer an unwanted ditchbreed wandering the streets and watching his back at every turn. Jared’s stomach turned, recalling the nasty term William had used, the name society used to refer to people like him who had been born with the hated stain. Jared wrapped a hand around his left wrist, a wave of uneasiness rolling over him at the loss of the leather cuff that he had worn for so long. It hid the evidence of Jared’s status, or lack thereof, and he felt much too naked without it.
Jared frantically sought out Declan, zeroing in on his brother in order to reassure himself of Declan’s presence. Jared was safe, at least for now, from Agents who felt that people with marks like Jared’s were no more than infectious, dirty blights on society to be picked off the streets and put down and killed.
Some even took pleasure in it. All Jared had to do was close his eyes, and he could still hear the Agents’ laughter as they rounded up people like Jared, plucking them off the street like rotten apples to be thrown away. Often they were drugged and tossed into vans, or in some cases, taken round back the nearest building to be shot where they stood. Though he topped just over six feet now, Jared had been quite small for his age back then and able to hide in the nearest alleyway, behind a truck or a dumpster, sometimes even inside the closest trash can.
Anything to keep from ending up like one of the rotten apples.
Johnathan Cooper had changed all that when he had taken Jared off the streets and accepted him as one of his children. And in the two years since he had been gone, the only things that kept Jared from being alone once more were his sister and the younger version of that man, standing twenty feet away, gripping his pistol in angry fingers.
Declan caught his eye, his mouth turning up softly upon looking at Jared, and it took every ounce of inner strength Jared possessed not to run to Declan and hold on tight, to bury his face in Declan’s chest the way that he had in Johnathan's on that rainy night when he’d been only ten years old. Panic rose in his throat and Jared forced it down, refusing to lean on his brother any more than he already had. They had always known that working with the Renegades could be dangerous, but Declan, too, had to be feeling the effects of killing their father’s killer and leaving behind their burning home.
“Jare?” Declan’s voice penetrated Jared’s messy thoughts. He holstered his gun and walked over to Jared’s stump. “You okay?”
Jared’s scar itched, and he clamped his hand over it to stop the irritating burn. He considered lying for less than a second, but he had never been able to lie to Declan. Tears burned Jared's eyes for the first time since his run that first morning at Gideon’s house, and he shook his head, his right hand squeezing tighter over the unsightly scar on his left wrist. “No.” Jared shook his head, and, before he lost it completely, looked up at Declan. “None of us are, are we?”
Jared was at once enveloped in Declan's arms, his face pressed against the soft fabric of Declan's jacket. One of Declan’s strong hands curling into the hair at the nape of his neck and Jared clung tightly to his brother, wishing that he would take the pain away.
He closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath when Declan vowed fiercely into his ear, “We will be.”
Later that evening, Jared stepped out of a hot shower that had temporarily served to soothe his nerves and quickly toweled off. He opened the bathroom door and darted across the hall into his bedroom, one hand fisted tightly into the towel around his waist, cursing himself for forgetting to take his change of clothes with him into the bathroom. The stark contrast from Jared’s hot shower to the comparably cool hallway made his teeth start to chatter. The scar on his wrist tingled at the disparity in temperature and Jared pictured his warm pajama pants and the soft, fleecy sweatshirt he was about to wrap himself in.
He had just ducked into his bedroom and closed the door behind him when he heard a knock. Jared’s hand loosened around his towel, letting it drop to the floor. He hastily pulled on a pair of black sweatpants that he had long ago stolen from Declan, and opened the door. “Yeah?”
“I uh,” Declan looked hesitant. Except for the time spent outside during Declan’s shooting sessions, they'd hardly spent much time together since coming to Gideon’s. They had always been so close, and Declan's comfort earlier that afternoon had gotten Jared’s hopes up that things might be starting to return to normal. Or at least as normal as they could be while they all tried to figure out what to do next.
As always, what Jared had been feeling must have showed on his face, because Declan’s softened. “I have something for you.” Declan pulled his arm from behind his back and twirled Jared’s leather cuff around two fingers, circling it in the air. His mouth pulled up at the corners, and Jared wasn't sure what made his chest fill with warmth more; the sight of his beloved bracelet, or the sight of his brother actually almost smiling again.
Jared reached out, and Declan met him halfway to place the cuff in his hand. “I thought this was gone.” Jared said, running his fingers over the worn leather.
“That bastard had us so distracted I almost missed it. I grabbed it before I left the house,” Declan said.
Jared let out a breath of relief as he snapped the bracelet around his wrist again, the leather settling over his scar with warm familiarity. He looked at Declan. “Thanks.” Jared wanted to offer more than that, maybe some kind of comfort like Declan had given him earlier but even though Declan’s mouth had turned up, his eyes were still a stormy, tumultuous grey, his body still strung tight by strings of self-imposed solitary confinement.
The question that had been nagging at him since that day left Jared’s mouth. “Declan. What was he looking for?”
“Who?”
Jared touched the almost completely faded bruise on his cheek, from where William had split his skin. “The Agent.”
Declan’s face darkened. “I don’t know.”
“He went upstairs. He went through dad’s things, I know it. He-“
“Hey.” Declan reached out and flicked Jared's ear, the way he had when they had been kids. “It’s over. He is never going to bother you again, you hear me?”
“But-“
“Jared. Enough.”
Jared clamped his mouth shut, though questions still swirled around his brain. Looking at the firm set of Declan’s jaw, he sighed. “Thanks for my bracelet.”
Declan’s hard expression faded. “Don’t mention it,” he said flippantly. He gave Jared a smile that said he knew what the cuff meant to him, what it meant that Declan had snagged it. “Get some sleep.” Declan turned and headed for his own room.
“You too,” Jared called out to his brother’s back. Declan gave a dismissive wave and shut his bedroom door behind him.
Jared threw on his long sleeved fleece and crawled underneath the covers. He hated how quickly he’d gotten used to sleeping here, in this bed, instead of the one he had had back home. He hated watching Declan walk around under a constant shroud of anger, hated how lately he had heard nothing but uncharacteristic silence from Rae.
Jared brushed damp strands of hair from his face as he curled onto his side, his hand wrapping around his scarred wrist, taking comfort in the soft leather that was now back around it as he slowly drifted off to sleep.
CHAPTER FIVE
Their melancholy routine broke towards the end of the second week at Gideon’s. Jared and Gideon had formed a habit of cooking breakfast and dinner together, not talking much since that
first morning but working like clockwork in tandem all the same. Jared’s fitness routine kept him hungry, so he was often up and eating before his siblings. Most times they would go their separate ways during the day, even though everything inside Jared was screaming that they needed to be together, perhaps now more than ever.
No matter what though, the four of them would find themselves sitting down to dinner at the same time. It had been a Cooper family tradition that Johnathan had started, and even when his job took him away and it had been bowls of cereal that Declan had set in front of his siblings, the Coopers that were at home together at dinnertime ate dinner together. Gideon hadn't questioned it, and it had been a familiar comfort during a time when their grief and confusion made the days anything but.
Jared left the front door open this morning after coming in from his run, allowing splashy sunshine to filter in through the screen door to brighten Gideon’s kitchen. He smiled at Rae when she came downstairs, the sun catching the honeyed streaks in her light brown hair as she smiled back. She had dyed it a smooth caramel color the day before, though that was nothing new. Rae changed her hair color the way most people changed clothes.
Jared had already eaten, having been too hungry after his six mile run to wait, but he grabbed an extra fork and stole a bite of Rae’s pancakes, sharing her food like he had when they were kids.
“Thanks for having my back that day.” This was the first time that Jared felt Rae was truly present, her sky blue eyes actually seeing him instead of seeing around him, and he couldn't go any longer without telling her something, anything, of what he had been feeling about that day.
He held his breath, her pause making him afraid she would brush off his words the way Declan had nights before. After a lengthy, too heavy silence had passed, Jared sighed in defeat. He rose to help Gideon with the dishes, if for nothing than to just stay busy.
Rae’s hand shot out and caught his before he could get far. “Always.”
Jared blew out a breath and squeezed her hand. He could see the exhaustion on her face, but her eyes this morning weren't rimmed with red, like they had been every morning since coming here. Losing their home had been hard on all of them, and while Jared would go out on his runs, or hang with Declan during his target practice, Rae would always stay in, alone.
Jared knew too well what it felt like to be alone; roaming the streets for years, hiding and running from the good guys and bad, never knowing who wanted to use him or for what purpose. Even rescue shelters prompted wariness, as he never knew what kinds of traps would be laid there, although since working at one for the last several years Jared now knew that those shelters had been his most likely saviors. But growing up, Jared had gotten used to having only himself for company, and had even grown to prefer it.
Then he encountered Johnathan Cooper, and everything had changed.
Rae squeezed his hand again when Declan lumbered down the stairs, pulling Jared from his musings. Declan wandered over to the stove, easy as could be, and filled his own plate with three fluffy, blueberry pancakes. Nudging Gideon aside, Declan grabbed a mug from the hooks beneath the cabinets and poured himself a steaming cup of black coffee. He settled in next to Jared, across from Rae, and dug into his own stack of pancakes.
Gideon caught Jared’s eye, giving him a brief but comforting nod. They had a long way to go towards putting themselves back together, but looking at his family at the breakfast table now, Jared felt like this was at least a good start.
“Higher, Jared. Come on, bro, if someone comes at you and you've got a gun, go for the chest, not the junk.” Declan wrapped his hands around Jared’s where they clutched his pistol, and raised them several inches. “Let me see the bullet strike up here, not down there.” Jared nodded, and Declan flicked his ear fondly before stepping aside. Declan watched as his brother raised his arms for another attempt to target the human silhouette Gideon had pinned several yards away earlier that morning.
Looking thoughtfully over at Rae, who was practicing her hand to hand with Gideon, Declan called out to her, “You, however, ignore that. Some douche comes at you while you’re barehanded, grab him by the balls.” Gideon let out an ‘oof’ when he dropped to the ground, and Rae shot Declan a satisfied look in response. “Don’t encourage her,” Gideon wheezed, cupping his hands around the protective padding guarding his crotch. “She’s got this down.” He grumpily waved away the hand Rae offered him, and stumbled stubbornly to his feet.
Declan grinned. “Rae always has been good at close combat.” Declan had roped them all back into the training that their father had raised them by. He didn't know about his siblings but Declan sure as hell felt better working towards getting back in the game. Not knowing what the hell was coming next from the Agents and being out of touch with the Renegades was making him antsy.
Setting some extra ammo on the stump next to Jared, Declan gave his brother a thumbs up and motioned for him to continue practicing. Removing his ear plugs as he sauntered over to Rae and Gideon, Declan clapped the older man on the back. “Tap out, old man. I’ll take her.”
Rae brought her forearms up in a blocking stance. “Bring it on, bro.” She feinted left, then right, and got in a good shot to the side of Declan’s head before he caught one of her arms and twisted, turning her one hundred and eighty degrees, caught in an arm lock with her back to his chest. “Rule number one, RaeRae. Leave the smugness at the door. And never go easy on anyone, when your life’s on the line.” He spun her around and let her loose, motioning her forward to try again. Rae bit her lip and waited a beat before lunging again.
Declan effortlessly knocked her to the ground. “I can see your move in your eyes before you make it. Find your poker face.” He challenged her with his chin. “Again.”
Rae grunted and jumped agilely to her feet, facing off at her brother once more. She circled around him as he got into her space, trying to read his moves and mimic his body language. Rae’s left arm shot out to deflect a quick blow. “Good,” Declan praised, immediately jabbing out again with his other fist.
She blocked that as well. Rae read his moves, her instincts quick and her eyes on his. Declan held her gaze, taunting her, trying to goad her into a misstep. It’s what their dad had done while training him, and then Rae, as soon as they were old enough to have the first ounce of control over their own bodies. Considering Johnathan and Declan’s line of work, not to mention Jared’s past, the risk of attack had been too great for Johnathan to ignore his family’s need for comprehensive physical and mental training. His kids had grown up learning hand to hand combat, marksmanship, physical agility, and methods of escape.
Thank crap for that last one, Declan thought. Rae’s skills had saved her and Jared that day, and their dad’s endless drills of having readied emergency bags and first aid kits had gotten them out of the house in less than a minute. If his brother and sister hadn't gotten out, if they had been caught in a messy crossfire…
Declan choked, earning himself a strong jab to his midsection for the distraction.
“Rule number two, bro. Mind on the fight.” Rae lowered her arms and smirked.
Declan swung out a leg, catching her behind the knees, taking her down. He braced his body above hers, pinning her arms to the ground with both of his as she struggled against his hold. “Rule number three. Never celebrate a victory too early.” He dodged her blows, and cut out just as she raised up her knee. “Woah, woah. Unfair play.” Declan’s hands shot down to protect his crotch. “I’m not wearing anything, Rae. Shit.”
She gave him a smug smile and rolled out from under his hold.
“You kids gonna practice your counting all day, or you gonna get something accomplished?” Gideon grunted, but the pride was evident in his voice as he tossed Rae and Declan each a water bottle. He called over to Jared. “How ya comin’, son?”
“Not your son,” Jared gritted out. Declan frowned at Jared’s unexpected retort. He knew his brother well enough that he could tell Jared was no longer unc
omfortable around Gideon, so he was a bit surprised at the rancor in Jared’s voice. He watched as Jared fired off three rounds in a perfect cluster just above the silhouette’s heart.
“Oh, hell yeah!” Declan cheered. “That’s what I’m talking about. Never would know you've been out of practice.”
“Damn fine shooting, s-, er, Jared.” Gideon commented. “Damn fine.”
Jared ripped out his earplugs and shoved his hands into his pockets. “It’s not like I haven't done this before, though I still don’t know why we are celebrating the shooting of a human being,” Jared muttered. He looked over at Rae, her cheeks still flushed from her morning of sparring. “You look proud, like a fight suits you,” he bit out.
Declan laid a hand on his arm, confused at the rare display of bitterness from his normally gentle brother. “Jare?” Out of all of them, Jared had seemed to be handling all the pain and grief from the having their life upended the best. Granted, Declan hadn't really been paying much attention, too immersed in booze and misery of his own.
Traction: A m/m romance novel (Renegades & Rescues Book 1) Page 4