33 Degrees of Separation (Legacy)

by Rain Carrington

When his eyes began to flutter, Pat wiped his face a little more. “That’s it. See? Your best friend is here.”

  Ian’s eyes opened into slits, and Pat saw him trying to focus. Those eyes, cerulean blue, reddened by the alcohol, landed on Denny, and Ian’s mouth started working, but Pat could tell it was dry, and he was having trouble forming words.

  Tipping the bottle to his lips, Pat helped Ian take a few sips, though a lot ran down his chin. “Den,” he said in a croak.

  “Hey, man, there you are. You had me scared to death.”

  A few coughs and Ian’s eyes closed again. When they opened, he saw Pat and flipped out, trying to move away, though the wall was right behind him. His eyes were no longer slits, they were wide with terror, and it took Denny to calm him.

  “Ian, this is a friend, dude, mellow out! He’s a good guy, I swear!”

  “Who-who is he?”

  He was moving all the way behind Denny for protection, and Pat slowly moved back, hands in front of him. “I’m an FBI agent.”

  “A cop! Fuck, no! Get out!”

  Denny pulled him over and held him, which wasn’t easy with how Ian was shaking. “He’s not like that. My cousin sent him. He’s not on like official duty or anything, he’s here just for you.”

  It took a while, but Ian started to calm down enough so that Denny could release him. He pulled the jacket over him, as if he was naked, which he wasn’t. He was wearing an expensive tank and unbuttoned jeans.

  “Why the hell did someone send him?”

  “You were missing, Ian. You’ve been gone for days and I was scared out of my skull. You’ve been acting weird lately as it is, then to just take off? No note, no call or text?”

  For the first time, Ian didn’t look angry or frightened. Contrite, and guilt ridden as he turned fully to Denny. “Shit. I’m the worst. I’m fucking sorry, Den. I was in my own head.”

  “You’re okay, that’s all that matters. Now, what the hell drove you up here? And speaking of driving, who drove you?”

  Ian leaned back on the wall, and Pat moved back more, letting them have their time without his presence crashing it.

  “I…I was going through something, and I wanted to be alone. I drove most of the way up and hiked the rest.”

  If he’d been paying attention to something besides the beautiful man passed out on the floor, he would have noticed the caked dirt on the wheels of the cooler and his shoes that were off his feet next to it.

  “Where’s your car?”

  “Three miles down the road, in a clump of trees. I’m sorry, man.”

  Denny shook his head, blowing off the apology. “You had to do what you had to do. What made you do it, though? What’s wrong?”

  “I can’t tell you. I want to, but not only am I not supposed to, but I’m afraid if I do…if I do, they’ll…”

  Pat was seeing Denny’s frustration ramping. “Who the fuck is they?”

  Pat lay a hand on Denny’s arm and used the most soothing voice he could muster. “Denny, let me, please?”

  Denny waved Ian’s way and huffed, “Go for it.”

  Ian barely kept Pat in his sight, cutting his eyes to the floor, as if he was still afraid of him. Pat spoke again, keeping as casual as he could, given the question, “Ian, are they the members of the Gilded Grail?”

  Again, Ian’s eyes looked as though they’d pop out of his head and he scooted back again, but Pat reached over to him and grabbed his hand, changing his voice to something more commanding. “Stop. I found the searches on your computer, so talk to me.”

  Ian’s demeanor changed, and he was snapped immediately into focus, and his red, swollen eyes finally fully met Pat’s.

  Denny’s head was moving from Ian to Pat like he was watching a tennis match. In a breath, he whispered, “What the fuck?”

  Ignoring him, he kept his eyes locked with Ian. “Tell me. Is it them you’re afraid of?”

  “Yes. Yeah, it is.”

  Forming a plan quickly, Pat asked Denny, “Can you drive back down the hill to that little town we passed? Get some supplies? We’ll need some things for the next couple days, then you can drive back to Denver, if you have classes and such.”

  “I’m not going back unless I have to, but I’ll run get some supplies.”

  Pat told Ian, “Okay, I’m going to give Denny a list of what we’ll need. I’ll be right back, okay?”

  “Okay. Okay.”

  Outside by the car, Pat wrote down Stacy’s number so Denny could call her and let her know they’d be out of touch a few days. “Call whoever will miss you too. We don’t need another posse sent looking for us. Seriously, if you need to go back, do. I need to find out what’s got him freaked out about this Gilded Grail.”

  “You might need my help. You can see he doesn’t trust you. He trusts me.”

  Nodding, he patted Denny on the back and assured, “Okay, then, together we can help him.”

  The brake lights were the last thing he saw before the car disappeared into the trees. Pat had to think quickly and be on his toes with Ian. The guy was smart, and he was scared, two things that would make it difficult for Pat to fool.

  Not that he wanted to, but he knew he may have to use dirty tactics to get everything from him. No one wanted to reveal things they were afraid of. He went back into the cabin and saw Ian rifling through his backpack.

  “I told him to get you a set of clean clothes.”

  The rifling stopped, and Ian leaned back on the wall, tears filling his beautiful eyes. “Thanks.”

  Pat picked up one of the empty bottles of vodka and asked, “This help any?”

  “Does it ever? I needed out of my head a while. Got any aspirin?”

  He didn’t, but he poured some more water over the shirt he’d been using to clean Ian’s face and approached carefully, setting it on the back of Ian’s neck. “This should help a little.”

  Touching him, even through the shirt, it was like he’d touched a hot stove, only the heat wasn’t coming from Ian, it was him. It was the connection he felt. Ian’s voice was hoarse and low when he asked, “FBI, huh? How’d you get this assignment?”

  That was a great place to start. “Well, Denny’s cousin is good friends of some of my friends that run a security company. They do investigations, missing persons, things like that. I was already in Denver, so they wanted to get a jump on things, and asked me to hang around and see what I could find. I’m sorry I had to look through your phone and computer.”

  “I never thought about deleting my search history. That was probably stupid.”

  Pat didn’t want him ever to feel down on himself. From what he’d learned just being in his apartment, looking at the boards filled with beautiful homes, seeing how he was with his friend, he knew Ian, probably better than he’d known the last five boyfriends he’d had.

  “It wasn’t stupid, Ian. You were overwrought and upset. We’re here to help. Tell me what has you so scared. Please. I know a little about secret orders like the Gilded Grail. They’re mysterious, sure, but I’ve never seen any sign that they’re outwardly dangerous, especially to those who are members.”

  Ian’s eyes filled with tears, blurring the blue into the red from the drinking and most likely other tears he’d shed. “They are…they are evil.”

  “Evil? Are they, I don’t know, Satanic in origin?”

  Laughing sardonically, he said, “No. They pretend to be into the religions from wherever they’re from. Religion has nothing to do with it, though. Shit, I don’t even know a lot yet. I’m a first-degree member. It’s enough for me to be disgusted, though.”

  Pat was salivating to learn what was going on in his head, what had him so afraid and trying to hide away from the world, but he knew better than to push. “We don’t have to go over it right now, Ian. I’m here to listen, to help. I know you don’t know me or trust me, and I don’t blame you. I assure you, though, I won’t tell anyone what you tell me if that’s your wish. I’ll help in any way I can.”

&nbs
p; Ian’s eyes dried and he stared hard at Pat. “Why? You don’t know me.”

  He wanted to shout it, to be honest, tell him that he did, in fact, know him. Instead, he said, “I don’t need to know someone to see when they need help. Let me help you, Ian.”

  After a long time, where their eyes never moved from one another, Ian nodded a little and turned his head. “Helping me could get you killed.”

  “I’m tough. Please don’t worry about me, Ian.”

  He got some more cold water on Ian’s neck and wiped fresh tears from his cheeks. Nothing else was said for a long time, and that was fine with Pat. If and when Ian decided to confess what had him so frightened, it would likely take a lot from him. The rest beforehand, it was needed.

  Denny arrived with the supplies an hour later and Pat let them have some time to talk while he looked around the cabin. Hefting the stove from in front of the door, he set it back on its pedestal, and looked around for the stovepipe. If he could get it to work, they could heat water for bathing, at least.

  The cabin’s interior was surprisingly in good condition, being the obvious age of it. The floors weren’t as rotted as the porch, and though there was no furniture, there were shelves in the corner near the stove and an old handpump with a bucket under it. That must have been the kitchen area, and where Ian and Denny were, that was the living area. The handpump didn’t work, and Ian called over to him that it needed primed, but Pat didn’t know how to do that, so he left it alone.

  After another hour and a little prayer that it would work, Pat started a small fire in the stove, watching the pipe he’d found and replaced for leaks.

  He went outside to look around and heard a stream gurgling in the distance. That was his first good look around, and found the place was pristine. Old trees over younger, boulders and brush, all green with the new spring growth. The stream was running fast from the mountain with the melting snow, so the water was icy cold as he washed his face.

  It was no wonder Ian wanted to escape there. There was no one around for miles except for the wildlife that he could hear in the distance. He filled the bucket from the kitchen three times, taking it back to the cabin and dumping what he could into the empty cooler. The last trip brought a filled bucket to place on the stove so Ian could bathe.

  Denny met him as he came through the door and pulled him aside. “I can’t stay. I have a class that I can’t miss, and Cara is freaking out about me being gone. I don’t want to leave him, but…”

  “I have this. Take the car and come back for us in a couple days. Bring some more food, in case he’s not ready to leave.”

  “This place…he can’t stay here.”

  Pat gazed around the cabin and assured, “It might be the best place for him right now.”

  He could tell Denny was guilty about leaving, but Ian promised, “I don’t want this to mess with your life too, Den. I’ll be okay, and I’ll come home soon. I just have to wrap my head around all this.”

  “All what, man? So, what if you’re in some weird fucking club? Quit! Go with it, I don’t know, but it shouldn’t eat you up like this.”

  “I’ll think about it, Den.”

  Their embrace warmed Pat’s chest. The two men were as close as brothers, the love between them obvious. It was hard for Denny to leave, but he finally drove down the road and left Ian and Pat alone.

  Ian was watching out of the doorway, his arms wrapped around himself as if he was cold, but it wasn’t cold in the room, not with the stove going. It was a gesture that was pure insecurity, and Pat thought it was probably a foreign feeling for him. Someone with privilege, good looking, smart and talented, he doubted that Ian had ever felt insecure in his life.

  After bringing the two Bronco chairs to the back of the cabin, Pat led Ian out there to sit. Pat started with what he knew about the orders like the Grail.

  At first, Pat let the wind through the trees do the talking. That sound, leaves moving and dancing, it had a way to calm a human, though few listened or appreciated it. He was a city boy, sure, and the cacophony of honking horns, sirens and crowds moving in waves like a sea was what soothed him. Still, there were times he could walk in the park and block out the rest of that, listening to nature herself, and letting it wash over him.

  It worked, at least at first. Ian’s blue eyes, eyes that were darker than the sky he peered at every few seconds, they took it in, and Pat watched the cock of his head, as if he was hearing the whispers of the wind through the trees.

  He decided to start the conversation, a low tone to his voice, calming, inviting, so he could ease Ian into divulging some of the weight he had inside him, crushing him. “A lot of them boast to have secrets of the universe, but after outsiders and those that have left the orders have revealed things they taught, it was seen that most of it was psychological techniques and science they were using. They were advanced, of course, compared to the general public.

  “Others, like Skull and Bones, they concentrate on the business world, politics, things like that. I’m guessing that the Gilded Grail does similar things. They are strict on loyalty and secrecy. They use connections and money to advance their members’ lives. Money, power, it’s all they care about.”

  Ian nodded along to the last bit, and Pat knew he was on the right track.

  “It’s not the most gallant of ambitions, Ian, but if that is what the Grail is all about, take what you want from them and ignore the rest.”

  The welling of tears in his eyes that Ian blinked quickly away told a story that Ian’s voice couldn’t. “Can’t ignore the rest. Can’t ignore them, can’t quit, can’t get out of this. It’s a legacy thing. It’s passed down from father to son and has been for over four hundred years.”

  The urge to push him for more, it was overwhelming, but he forced himself to remain calm and quiet, letting Ian find his words in his own time, going back to that quiet sound of the woods to keep from trying to force Ian to spill his torn up guts.

  Ian leaned over his knees, staring at the pine needles under his feet, or that’s how it looked. Pat saw, however, that Ian wasn’t looking at pine needles. He was picturing some horror. “My father told me about it for the first time the other night. He called me out of the blue to invite me to dinner. I was surprised, being he never wants to have dinner with me unless it’s time to bitch about my spending or get on me for a less than perfect grade. Neither has been an issue lately.”

  He leaned back and glanced over to Pat, explaining, “I’m trying, you know, to move out from under my parent’s money. It’s not easy, but I really don’t want to depend on them forever.”

  “I’m not judging you, Ian.”

  “Everyone else does. I do. Everyone knows the only reason I got into the university was because my father donated half the buildings on campus and whatever else they could possibly need. I’ve tried to show I was making my grades on my own, that I don’t just live to party and be the trust fund brat.”

  Pat wanted to touch him, to reach over and grab his hand or squeeze his shoulder, but he didn’t. It wasn’t that he thought Ian wouldn’t want him to, he was afraid to.

  “Anyway…um, so he had a car pick me up and we drove to the airport. I freaked a little, wondering why the fuck we were going there. My father met the car himself and then it drove off and we were alone.

  “He told me that we were going on a little trip. I told him I hadn’t packed or anything, and he said it wasn’t needed. Everything I could need would be provided for me. He said to call anyone who might miss me. The way he told me that, spitting it at me, knowing who I’d call, it started the trip off with me being pissed at him.”

  Pat could see how he’d be scared right off the bat. “That’s a strange way to start a trip.”

  “Yeah,” he laughed, sarcastically. “We got on the plane, where he said he’d explain a little more. Once we were in the air, he sat by me and smiled. It was the weirdest smile, kinda sad, almost. My father has no emotions. Like…like at all. He’s always stoic
and proper, you know?”

  “I’ve spoken to him while looking for you. I saw emotion. Mostly contempt.”

  “Oh, yeah, there’s that. I’ve seen that plenty.”

  “Go on, Ian.”

  He took a long, stuttering breath in and let it out, rubbing his hands together. “Yeah. Go on. The hard stuff coming, man…I might be able to repeat it, but if I can’t…”

  “I’m in no hurry. I’ll be here for as long as you need me.”

  In what might have been a tactic to stall his story, or the fear he felt, he lashed out, “Again, why? I mean, you aren’t here as an agent. You have a life, I assume.”

  How could he possibly express it? That it had been a favor for good friends up until he started to delve into the life of the man. Then, suddenly, it had become something different. He wanted to help Ian, to protect him from whatever he was afraid of. He wanted to make sure that the man sitting beside him didn’t have another tear ever fall from his eye.

  “This is my life, Ian. I want to help people, and right now, I want to help you. That’s the only thing I want to do right now.”

  He’d been keeping from touching Ian, but at that moment, Ian reached over and squeezed his hand. “Thank you. I don’t know why, but talking to you, a stranger, is somehow easier than talking to Denny would have been, or anyone. I hope I don’t get you hurt.”

  “Don’t worry about me, Ian.”

  A few slow blinks of his beautiful eyes and his tongue running over his bottom lip came, making Pat have to look away. “I like you. That’s weird, I know, but I think maybe you can understand me better than anyone.”

  Pat looked back at him and whispered, “I feel that way too.”

  Chapter Five

  Up and pacing, he told his story, and it was nearly as hard to hear as it was for him to tell. Ian was still scared out of his mind, but to his credit, he spoke clearly, and besides the pacing, kept from shaking apart.

  “He spoke like he was knighting me or something. Like I should be bouncing up and down with happiness. He told me about the Gilded Grail, how old it was, and how it started with these families that didn’t like the way the world was being run. These families already had money and influence, but no real power, except for their money and influence, you know?”