It looked just like the neighborhood where Pyro had grown up, and he hated it already.
“Which number does he live at?” he snapped as soon as he left the car. He loved the Subaru, with its sapphire body and custom-made leather interior where he’d made out with Boar so many times. The vehicle was Boar’s, and while Pyro knew his lover would have wanted him to use it, it still didn’t feel right to drive it. Boar had always been the one behind the wheel.
He didn’t want to hang on to false hope, but throughout this long day, he let himself dream that maybe, if the stars aligned for once, they’d drive off into the sunset together again. Sappy? So what? Boar would have loved it.
“Eleven,” Tank said, already spearheading their group into the building, but Pyro wouldn’t have it, and overtook him on the walkway, desperate to feel like he was doing something.
He would squeeze Hake for every last drop of intel.
“Is that the first floor or the second?”
“It’s written right there,” Drake grumbled, pointing to a plaque with indicators where to look for which apartment numbers. Fucking smug bastard.
Pyro ignored the need to snap back at him and ran up the stairs, straight onto the corridor in the second floor. Hake’s apartment was the last in row.
His finger hovered over the bell button, and he stalled, eyes focused on the peephole.
Who in their right mind would have opened their door to him after dark?
A sense of uselessness balled at the pit of his stomach, and he stepped away, teeth clenched tight as he listened to the three pairs of footsteps. Why were they being so fucking slow? Did they not want to either dismiss or follow up on whatever clue they might find inside?
Tank was the first to reach him, but as painfully frustrating as it was, Clover was the least threatening of them all, so it was him to ring the bell while the rest of them stood close by. But as soon as that door opened, Pyro would burst in there and finally get a chance to act.
Clover rang one time, then another, but no matter how long they waited, none of them could hear any movement on the other side.
Tank cleared his throat. “He’s not at work. He might have gone out for dinner or shopping. Shall we w—?”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Only the thought of Boar kept Pyro from yelling, but the hiss he let out instead was even more venomous. “He might as well be on vacation, for all we know! I’ll open that door if Hake won’t,” he said, about to ram his body against it when Tank grabbed his shoulder. It took all of Pyro’s patience to not punch him in answer. “What?”
Tank swallowed, meeting Pyro’s gaze with that annoyingly worried frown in place. “You’ll make too much noise. Let Drake handle it.”
Anger was like lava about to overflow, but when Pyro saw Drake pull out his set of lock-picking tools, the heat inside was replaced by the frosty sense of uselessness. Once again, he could do nothing to make progress toward his reunion with Boar. It was as if the others saw him as more of an obstruction than help when he was the only one who truly had nothing to do with Boar’s disappearance.
And what hurt most was that even Boar had left him in the dark and had gone off without sharing his intentions. Had he not trusted Pyro either? That thought stabbed into Pyro’s gut so hard, the need for a drink was getting unbearable. At least when he drank and used drugs, the pain of loss was that bit less sharp. The loneliness became a blur, and if he was really lucky, Clover was there to help him forget without the need to talk. When Pyro fucked Clover, he could almost sense Boar around. They’d chosen him together after all.
Drake fiddled with the lock for a while before the door opened with a tiny click. Boar would have laughed at Pyro for getting so frustrated over a bit of wait. He always had a way of cooling Pyro down, but without him around, very little made sense anymore.
Drake put his finger, which was already covered with leather, against his mouth and looked inside, revealing lamplight in the open room at the end of the corridor. Of course. It only made sense for the one who was best at stealth to enter first. Pyro hung his head and let it happen.
If Drake was the rogue of their group, Tank was the, well… Tank, Clover the charmer, what was his place? The one who cracked jokes? Pyro didn’t even do much of that anymore, and he sure as fuck was no healer.
Tension was thick in the cool air as Drake entered the apartment. Pyro watched him move in careful steps and methodically peek into every room on the way. This too made sense. Pyro itched to burst in there, guns blazing, but if Hake was inside, then leaving the light on while hiding somewhere else would have been the oldest trick in the book.
After endless seconds, Drake’s black form reached its destination, and Pyro’s heartbeat became so frantic he could barely stand the pressure, but when Clover’s delicate hand slid into his, the buzzing need to fuck everything and get in eased somewhat, so he squeezed the boy’s fingers in gratitude.
He took a deep breath and looked up, only to face Drake, who was back and opened the door wide, wordlessly inviting them inside. His face was tense, but there was something different about his current expression.
“He’s dead,” Drake whispered.
Pyro gasped for air and let go of Clover. He burst into the room to see a body dangling from the ceiling like a horrific pendant.
Hake was a small man with gray hair, but his face had stilled with his mouth hanging open, eyes bulging and red as if most of the blood vessels in them had burst. Pyro couldn’t believe it. All this fucking effort for nothing? He wanted to punch the corpse, but Tank pulled him back.
“We don’t want to leave any traces,” he said and handed him a pair of gloves before donning his own.
Pyro roared in helpless fury.
Clover stood at the edge of the room, by a well-used sofa. “Is it possible he knew we were coming?”
Drake pulled up Hake’s sleeves, revealing bruises on the man’s arms as if they were on a fucking CSI episode. “I think someone forced him to do this. The body’s still warm. Couldn’t have been more than a couple of hours.”
“Well, fuck,” Tank said through gritted teeth. He took a deep inhale. “Let’s check everything. Knock on the floors and furniture to see if he doesn’t have anything hidden in secret compartments. Let’s decide on who searches where.”
Pyro spun around to face him, hands already balling into fists. “That’s your genius idea? To turn everything upside down? I’m pretty sure whoever disposed of him also took care of other evidence, including the guy who told Drake about Hake.”
Tank met his gaze, but he didn’t flinch. “And what choice do we have, genius? This is the one lead we’ve got, so if there’s even the smallest chance whoever did this overlooked something, we’ve got to take it.”
Pyro heaved with unresolved fury. “This is bullshit! I’m the only one who really cares about finding Boar! You’re just doing all this out of obligation.”
Clover’s features twisted with pain. “Seriously? Pyro, come on…”
But Pyro wouldn’t have any of that shit. “Yeah, we’re all in this together, team mates, yadda, yadda, but when it comes down to it, you’re not the ones who got their hearts ripped out of their chests without anesthetic!”
Tank’s jaw clenched so hard it appeared even more square than usual. “That’s why you drink and snort coke while Drake goes off to find us leads?”
“Oh, fuck you! You don’t know everything I do!”
Drake wouldn’t even look at Pyro. They all knew Boar’s disappearance was Drake’s fault, but Tank still chose to go all self-righteous on Pyro.
“Oh? What do you do, Pyro? Enlighten us all?”
Pyro’s head cracked open from the pressure, but for the longest moment he didn’t know how to answer. He did search for Boar. He checked all the leads they found. He was the first to go when it was needed.
“I’ll tell you what I didn’t do. I didn’t fucking use my friend as a tool to execute personal revenge!” He reached Drake within two
paces and pushed him so hard he almost hit the corpse still dangling from the ceiling. “So Apollo sold you a long time ago. Boo-fucking-hoo. Get. Over. Yourself.”
A vein bulged on Drake’s forehead, and he lashed out at Pyro, baring his teeth like a rabid dog. “I was just a kid, you motherfucker! You’ve got no idea what you’re talking about!”
Pyro only knew vaguely that Drake had been sold as a kid to some fucker who’d trained him to be a personal bodyguard, which had most likely involved lots of pain, but he’d survived and come out stronger, while Boar was lost and his future uncertain.
Before Drake could have reached Pyro, Tank stepped between them like a concrete wall.
“We’re all desperate to find Boar,” Tank said. “And we all agree Apollo needs to die for what he did to Drake. And Clover. You look like you need a breather, Pyro. How about you go search the kitchen?”
The dismissal was like a red cloak waved in front of a bull. “I’m not your fucking child, so don’t tell me what to do. Why are you taking his side? Even his parents didn’t care enough to make sure he didn’t disappear!”
Clover grabbed Pyro’s arm, but he shook it off and stormed past Drake, hitting him with the shoulder on the way. This time, nobody said anything, giving him no excuse to turn their faces into mush. He burst into a dark room, which was an average-looking, neat bedroom with some plants by the window. Not bothering to shut the door behind him, Pyro reached a small desk and put his hands on either side of a closed laptop, struggling to find his breath.
A clock mercilessly ticked on the wall, counting seconds of Boar’s captivity. Even if Boar was a tough guy in his own right, for Pyro, he was still the sweetie pie who took care of him, who fell in love all too fast, and baked his own bread. He was the last person to deserve being taken. What if Pyro never got to speak to him again?
“Pyro?” Clover must have slipped into the room when Pyro was too busy listening to the thudding in his own head.
“Goddamnit.” Pyro stared at the empty wall before turning slowly to face Clover and his annoyingly worried face. There was no time for such things right now. “What?”
“You do know, at the bottom of your heart, that we’re all trying to find him.” Clover reached for Pyro’s hand, but what Pyro needed to numb his pain was drugs and booze, not gentle fingers.
“You’re too busy playing house with Tank and fussing over Drake,” Pyro snapped back. “They’re grown men and don’t need coddling.”
“Everyone needs to feel cared for.” Clover stroked Pyro’s arm. “Even you. I thought I’d always be fine on my own, but I wasn’t. It’s good to let people in.”
Pyro snorted, shrugging off the touch. “Yeah, you’d say that. You let a lot of people in.”
Clover flushed, staring at Pyro with those big blue eyes. “Seriously? Why do you have to be so mean when I’m just trying to help?”
“No one told you to follow me in here! What do you think you’re doing anyway? You think you can replace Boar? Well, let’s get that out of the way: you can’t. Even your cooking sucks!” It didn’t exactly suck, but Pyro was too angry to acknowledge that.
Finally, Clover scowled. “We’re all in this together, so you could at least stop being such an asshole, when I’m trying to help!”
“I’m the asshole?” Something pinged at the back of Pyro’s brain, a jolt of electricity that sent him forward. Before he knew it, his hand was around Clover’s throat, pushing him at the wall, and then digging into the white flesh. Clover grabbed his wrist, trying to pull Pyro’s hand away, but he wasn’t strong enough. His eyes widened, the focus of Pyro’s world. “We both know he only went there to protect you. He wouldn’t have gone on Drake’s revenge rampage. But no, you had to egg the two of them on.”
Clover gasped for air, digging his nails into Pyro’s arm and helpless like a moth trapped in a spider web. Pyro was heaving as he kept Clover in place. He’d come into this room to calm down, yet he was only more furious.
“And let’s not forget that you’re only here today because Tank thought you were a nice piece of ass. Stop prodding me. Stop following me, and stop thinking I need your help. I don’t. If you want to be useful, put your lips around my cock once a day and suck. That’s all I need from you.”
Tears spilled down Clover’s cheeks, and all the way down to Pyro’s hand. He watched them as if they were alien creatures, only existing to pull on emotions he did everything to bury.
Someone pushed him from the side so hard he let go of Clover and fell on the bed with a groan.
“What. The. Fuck? Pyro!”
When he looked up, Drake already had his arms around Clover, his hand where Pyro’s had been a second ago, stroking the frantically-moving Adam’s apple. Tears rolled down the red face that twisted so heavily it deformed all of Clover’s normal features. He leaned into Drake, who stared at Pyro with eyes that burned with a heat so infernal Pyro’s own anger no longer felt so pressing. He blinked at the two men with his heart beating in warning.
He hadn’t even meant those things he said.
Why had he said them?
“You should go,” Drake said, hiding Clover in his arms.
Pyro rubbed his forehead, getting up. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I just got so—”
Clover wouldn’t look at him, huddled up on the floor and crying while still struggling to breathe.
Drake on the other hand, watched Pyro like a hawk. “I said, leave!”
Tank chose this moment to pass through the doorway, his gaze darting from Pyro to Clover. “What’s going on?”
Pyro walked past him, straight for the door. He could only breathe once he was outside, and the fresh wind soothed his overheated skin. Like a zombie, running on hate and regret, he made his way down the stairs and across the parking lot.
He’d done it. He made everyone hate him.
The blue Subaru Impreza was his solace, and once he’d shut the door and leaned into the leather seat, the hold around his heart lessened somewhat. This wasn’t any good. He’d never meant to put his hands on Clover that way. So maybe the hangover had gotten the better of him, but that wasn’t really an excuse. He needed to get all that energy out somewhere. On someone who deserved violence as much as Pyro did.
He reached for his phone and chose the number of Boozer, who dealt with the illegal fights for him. When the guy picked up, Pyro didn’t waste any time.
“It’s Pyro. I’m in Denver. Hook me up with something intense,” he said, watching the other parked cars. A short silence on the other end made Pyro shake. “What is it?”
“I’ve got something. But it’s this crazy life or death kind of match. You sure you’re up for that?”
Pyro finally felt his muscles relax. It was only then that he realized he’d taken the passenger seat, just like he always had when Boar was around.
“Sign me up.”
Chapter 5 - Clover
“Clover, are you okay?” Tank’s words came as if from behind a wall, but the gentle touch of his hands on Clover’s neck, probing to check for potential damage? That brought Clover right back to reality.
“I’m… I think I’m fine,” he mumbled, but gripped Drake’s hand, unwilling to let him go when he was so close.
Drake’s breath caught when Tank’s gaze stopped on him next.
“What about you? Are you okay?”
Clover tightened his hold on Drake, knowing exactly why Tank was asking. It wasn’t just because he’d heard a terrible comment from Pyro as well. Only hours back, Drake had put a gun to his head, and they were all worried he might do so again. In the fever of following the lead while it was fresh, there hadn’t been time to talk through that elephant in the room, but Drake shrugged off Tank’s care.
“I’m fine.”
Tank spent all too long watching the two of them until he spoke. “I’ll be searching the living room.”
Clover sighed deeply and couldn’t force himself off the floor. He didn’t know what to think about what ha
ppened, so he was stuck in limbo of resenting Pyro and finding excuses for him.
Pyro had been twitchy all day, for once off everything that had kept him going in the recent weeks, but his words had still been not only out of line but so hurtful Clover wasn’t even sure where they stood anymore.
“I’ll stay here,” Drake mumbled and opened the closet, revealing a small collection of men’s clothes in the most standard of color palettes.
Tank nodded, and after looking at Clover for confirmation, he left, closing the door behind him.
Clover watched Drake move with unusual stiffness. Despite the horror of what they’d been through, he missed Drake. He wasn’t afraid of him. Drake had never meant to do what he was forced to, and the fact that he blamed himself made Clover’s heart bleed.
“Thanks for coming to my rescue,” he tried to joke, but they both knew there was nothing funny about what had transpired.
Drake’s gaze was dark, and he moved toward the bed, as if he wanted to sit down, only to stop halfway. Maybe he remembered they didn’t want to leave any signs of their visit.
“He’s a junkie who didn’t get to snort his line. He shouldn’t be alone with you until he straightens up his act,” Drake said in the end.
Clover rubbed his eyes when they stung with tears again. “He’s not always like this. I just… I thought he loved me in his own way, but now I’m thinking he doesn’t even like me. I’m so embarrassed.” He thought back to having sex with Pyro just last night. Had Pyro been thinking how much he hated Clover back then, too?
“I’ve known him for years, and he hates everyone when something’s not going his way. I’m sure it’s just grief that’s making him so crazy, even if what he said is inexcusable.” He shook his head and took hold of Clover’s hand. “I know how he feels. He’s in that place where you can only rage and push away everyone, even those who want to help.”
“I miss you,” Clover whispered. “It doesn’t help that you’re not there. I know you and Pyro have issues now too, but you being away all the time only makes us more fractured.”
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