by KD Ellis
He didn’t think there were many wilds near Aberdeen.
“I gotta go, Mama. Noa is waiting…” Ian said, not sure he’d survive this conversation.
“Give Teddy my love,” Mama called after him.
“Yes, Mama,” Ian said between groans and shut the door behind him.
* * * *
Helping Noa with her dance took his mind off his brother’s attitude, and by the time he drove her back home from the dance studio and dropped her off, he was more than ready for his date.
Teddy stood nervously on the sidewalk outside his apartment complex. Ian frowned as he pulled up to the curb, eyes moving past the young man to the rather rundown building behind him. The paint was peeling, the grass withered. It didn’t look like a place that a ‘lovely, young married couple’ would be subletting out. Maybe that was why Teddy always made excuses if he spoke of coming over.
He was stopped from continuing that thought when Teddy tugged open the passenger door and slid inside the car, fastening his seatbelt before fixing him with a bright grin. “Ready to go?” Teddy asked, nearly bouncing in the seat.
“I don’t know. I wasn’t sure you really wanted to go. I thought maybe we could just—”
Teddy interrupted Ian’s teasing with an Oscar-winning pout. “No, I want to go. We have to. It’s the last movie!”
“What if it’s boring and I need a distraction?” Ian asked with a grin as he pulled away from the curb.
“I’m sure we’ll think of something.” The look Teddy gave him was hot, his eyes heavy-lidded. Ian groaned when Teddy slid his tongue over his lower lip, leaving it glistening, taunting.
“Will you hold my hand if I get scared?” Ian asked, smirking.
“I’ll hold something,” Teddy promised.
Instantly, the car was filled with a scorching heat, and Ian wondered if Teddy could scent his arousal the way Ian swore he could Teddy’s. He bit back a groan. “I’m holding you to that.”
The small theater was tucked at the end of a dying strip mall. They walked past the skeleton stores, barely noticing the boarded-up windows or tumbleweed newspapers in the walkways. Ian listened to Teddy chatter excitedly about the movie. It was the eighth and final installment, a bittersweet culmination to a nearly decade-long franchise. It had been playing for two weeks already, so the line to get into the theater was short.
Ian passed over his card to the teller, then handed the bucket of over-buttered popcorn to Teddy to hold. “Save some for the movie,” Ian teased, watching as Teddy immediately snagged a handful and crammed it into his mouth, his cheeks bulging like a chipmunk until he swallowed. Ian preferred his popcorn plain, but he’d caved to the pleading eyes.
“Free refills,” Teddy rebutted, his smile flashing.
“You’re going to get a stomachache.” Ian rolled his eyes and accepted his card back, returning it to his wallet, which he slid back into his pocket. Maybe if he kept his hands busy for a second, he’d resist the urge to smack Teddy’s ass for not listening. They were only on their first date, and he wasn’t sure how Teddy would feel about him ‘daddying’ him already.
Teddy’s lips twitched. “No, I won’t.”
“Yes, you will.” Ian held his hand out for the bucket.
Teddy shook his head. “Nope.”
“Yep.” Ian abandoned his effort and slid his finger into the belt loop of Teddy’s jeans instead, guiding him into the theater. They headed down the center aisle. “Where do you want to sit?”
“Center, obviously.” Teddy turned about halfway down and flopped into one of the seats, lifting his feet immediately to the back of the chair in front of him.
“Obviously,” Ian grinned and sat down beside him.
Teddy snagged another handful of popcorn. He waited, as if making sure that Ian was watching, before sliding out his tongue and using it to capture a kernel, drawing it back into his lips. Then, Teddy did it again, but kept the fluffy, golden treat between his lips. He leaned closer, as if offering it to Ian.
Ian groaned. He held out for a moment before bending forward and snagging it, pulling it into his mouth. He didn’t pull back, leaving his mouth gently pressed against Teddy’s, stroking the plush, pink lips with his tongue, enjoying the salty remnants left behind. He wondered what Teddy would taste like with a different type of salt on his skin.
Teddy moaned, pressing closer to him, then Teddy’s hands were slipping up over Ian’s chest, skimming along his neck, clasping his fingers together to hold Ian in place—as if Ian were going anywhere.
A throat cleared behind them and they broke apart. An usher stood in the aisle, weight shifting, face uncomfortably red. Ian smirked but pulled away, settling back into his seat. Teddy’s eyes, heated, darted longingly toward Ian, but he settled back as well.
“Sorry, folks. Feet off the seats,” the blushing teen stammered.
Teddy huffed but dropped his feet to the ground, waiting until the usher left to mutter, “The floor’s sticky.”
Ian laughed, but the lights dimmed before he could comment, the first preview rolling across the screen.
The dimness of the theater only made the spark between them burn brighter. Every nerve ending on Ian’s body made him crave the man beside him. He longed to skim his fingers over the soft skin, to steal Teddy’s breath into his mouth, to stroke the soft strands of hair slowly growing on the young man’s scalp where before only stubble had grown. It took all his will to keep himself confined to his own seat. He wanted to pull Teddy into his lap, to settle him astride and consume him. He just…wanted.
Partway through the movie, though, his phone thrummed in his pocket. He lifted his hip to slip it free. His younger brother’s photo flashed across the screen. Ian, still annoyed with his brother’s earlier attitude, shoved the phone back in. He would call him back later.
It rang again a few minutes later and Ian ignored it. Instead, he curled his fingers through Teddy’s and settled back to watch the movie.
* * * *
The sunlight was bright when he stepped out of the theater with Teddy. “I can’t believe it’s over,” Teddy said, his expression melancholy. Ian understood the feeling. It felt like a portion of his life had just ended.
In his pocket, his phone vibrated for what seemed like the hundredth time. He stopped on the sidewalk and dug it out, frowning at the screen. “One sec, it’s Mama.”
Teddy stopped beside him, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it up as he waited.
Ian, only half listening to the ringing in his ear, reached out and tugged the slender white death stick out of Teddy’s fingers, dropping it to the ground and scuffing it out.
“Those things will kill y—” he started to say, but Mama’s voice cut him off, broken though it was by sobbing. Ian froze, all of his attention on the call.
“Ian, your brother, he… Oh God, they’re taking him to the hospital, but they don’t…” She hiccupped, her words choking off.
“Slow down, Mama. What happened? Is Lucas okay?” Ian tried to soothe her, concern surging inside.
“He shot himself! My baby, he… I heard the doorbell, and I thought… I thought… Where did he get a gun, Ian? Where did my baby get a gun?”
Chapter Fourteen
Teddy stood silently in the hospital waiting room. He had to clench his hands into fists to keep himself from sliding one of them into Ian’s and squeezing. Ian seemed barely aware of his presence at his side. Teddy felt out of place, like at any moment one of the Romeros was going to turn to him and ask him what he was doing there. Or worse, tell him to get the hell out, that he wasn’t family.
Mama Romero cried quietly, slumped in a chair near the door. She looked too small, like at any moment the chair was going to swallow her. Papa Romero sat stoically at her side. The only sign of emotion he allowed himself to show was the way his large hands clenched the chair’s arms. Noa was curled up beside him, her knees pulled to her chest. Mascara tracked its way down her cheeks.
Ian hadn’t sat down
in the three hours they’d waited. He’d paced for a while, until even that seemed to take too much energy. Now, he just stood, his arms crossed, eyes skipping from the empty door to the clock ticking slowly on the wall then back again.
Teddy, for the first time since his surgery, wished he were wearing his sweater. Too-large, frayed at the edges and faded from years of acting as his security blanket, it could hide his shaking hands in the pockets and his face in the cowl-neck collar. He’d gotten rid of it weeks ago, but now all he wanted was the reassurance it offered.
He didn’t believe Lucas had shot himself.
He’d overheard the police officer talking quietly to Lucas’ parents shortly after they’d arrived. Lucas had been found alone, in a one-bedroom apartment supposedly leased in his name, down on Twelfth. There’d been no sign of forced entry, no evidence anyone had put the gun in his hand and forced it to his head.
Teddy knew better. Lucas might have changed lately, getting more skittish in the few weeks since he and Teddy had been dragged down to see Julian, but he wasn’t suicidal. Teddy picked at a small hole at the bottom of his front right pocket. He’d just talked to Lucas a few days before and his friend, nervous and looking over his shoulder, had muttered something about going to the police.
Maybe Julian had found out Lucas’ plans. Maybe that was what happened when someone tried to flip on dangerous men. Teddy had almost spoken up and told the officer everything, but something had weighed down his tongue, keeping it silent in his mouth. He didn’t want to burden the Romeros with the knowledge of what Lucas had gotten up to lately, not if he wasn’t sure he was right.
He would go to the precinct in the morning, he decided. He looked up when he saw someone enter, but it wasn’t the doctor. It was just an orderly, coming in to change out the coffee before leaving.
Mama Romero kept crying.
Noa tucked her knees in tighter.
Ian started pacing again.
* * * *
Two hours and eighteen minutes later, a solemn-looking doctor came into the waiting room. Teddy knew that it wouldn’t be good news.
He was right.
“I’m very sorry. We did everything we could,” the doctor said to Mama and Papa Romero. “We were able to keep his heart beating, but he is on a ventilator. There appears to be no brain activity. I would advise you to say your goodbyes.”
Mama Romero let out a keening cry, and Papa Romero sagged in his chair, face shattering for a second before he put it back together again into a steely mask. Ian bent at the waist, his hands propped on his knees for support. Teddy heard the half-smothered cry of pain. Unable to stop himself, he rested a hand on Ian’s shoulder in comfort, but Ian jerked beneath it like he’d been stung. Teddy tore his hand free, wrapping it around his waist instead. Ian didn’t seem to notice.
Teddy watched the family trickle out. He hesitated, wanting to go with them and say his own goodbyes but doubting he’d be welcome. He closed his eyes and smothered his own sob as it welled in his throat.
Then a small, delicate hand curled into his and squeezed. He opened his eyes to meet Noa’s. They were the same height, though Noa was five years younger. “He would want you to be there,” Noa whispered, her eyes glistening with tears. “You were…his best friend.”
“I’m not family…” was all Teddy could muster to say.
“You might as well be,” Noa squeezed his hand again. “Come on.”
Teddy trailed along, his hand clasped in hers, down the hallway and into the intensive care room. Lucas looked small in the bed, attached to wires and tubes and beeping machines, his head swaddled in thick white bandages. Plastic tubing attached to a mouth guard blocked much of the remainder of Lucas’ face. The sound of it gasping in and out made the hair on Teddy’s arms raise.
Teddy stayed back out of the way as the family said their goodbyes. Inside, he felt like screaming or breaking down into shoulder-shaking sobs. It wasn’t fair, and all he wanted was to see his friend open his eyes, sit up and say, “Surprise! I really fooled you, didn’t I?”
But Lucas wasn’t into practical jokes, and his eyes never opened. Teddy would have the sound of the heartbeat monitor stuttering, screaming loud in a reminder that the heart it attached to was no longer beating, in his nightmares for years. The siren wasn’t loud enough to drown out his guilt, nor was the sound of nurses hurrying in, wheeling Lucas’ body out of the room, preparing to harvest the bits and pieces that could save someone else. But Teddy didn’t want to think of Lucas’ heart beating somewhere else, without him. Of someone else getting Lucas’ liver, or lungs or eyes. He didn’t want to think that somewhere out there, someone would benefit from Lucas not existing anymore.
“Fuck!” Ian cursed, turning and slamming his fist into the wall by the door. Teddy flinched at the sound. Ian stormed out of the room without looking back.
Teddy hesitated a moment, torn between letting the man grieve and following. His feet moved without his input. He followed Ian into a small, two-stall bathroom down the hall. Ian was standing at the sink, his hands on the counter like it was the only thing keeping him from collapsing. His shoulders shook and tears tracked their way silently down his cheeks.
Teddy approached slowly, stopping at his side, but he didn’t speak.
Ian stayed silent as well, until suddenly he turned, pulling Teddy into his arms and holding him almost too tight, but Teddy didn’t say anything. He just clasped Ian closer and held on while he cried.
Eventually, Ian spoke, his voice broken, “Tell me why, baby. Why would he do that?”
Teddy felt ice crystallize in his throat, freezing his voice until he cleared it. “I…I don’t think he did,” Teddy whispered. “I think… I think…someone set it up.”
Ian sucked in a breath and jerked back slightly to look at Teddy. “Why do you think that? Do you know something?”
Teddy’s skin grew chilly. “I… He was involved with some…not-so-nice people. I… They… He was talking about going to the police. I don’t know if…if they’d have let him.”
“What do you mean? Not-so-nice people? Was he being bullied again?” Ian tightened his grip on Teddy’s arms but didn’t seem to realize it. “Do you think they did this?”
“No, I mean… I think it’s a gang. Or a cartel. They… Ian, they scare me, and…I think he was in trouble.” The words tumbled over each other in his rush to get them out.
“How long was he involved?” Ian’s voice was chilly and it was clear by his eyes that his mind was already working, circling through the bits of information Teddy had given him and formulating a theory.
“A year, at least? I only met them twice, but…I don’t think they’re good people,” Teddy admitted.
“You knew he was involved and you didn’t say anything?” Ian frowned, his mouth flattening into a thin, white line.
Teddy hunched inward. “He asked me not to.”
Ian’s look was thunderous as he let Teddy go. Teddy felt the blood rush back to his skin but the relief was drowned out by the wish that Ian would have kept holding him, even if it was painful. “You need to talk to the police. Tell them what you know so they’ll look into it.”
“I…I was going to go tomorrow,” Teddy said. “I didn’t think they’d—”
“You didn’t think at all,” Ian interrupted, his voice raising until he cut it off at the end, turning his face away, his jaw clenched. “I think you should go home. I’ll pick you up in the morning. We can go to the precinct together.”
“I…I can go myself.”
“Teddy,” Ian snapped, “I’m not asking again.”
Teddy jerked his head in acceptance. Ian pushed past him, shoulder not-so-gently brushing him aside, leaving Teddy alone in the chilly bathroom.
* * * *
Teddy let himself into his dark apartment and closed the door behind him. His body felt heavy, like he was carrying an invisible weight on his shoulders. The weight got no lighter when he heard a chair scrape in the corner of his apartment
that he’d dubbed his kitchen.
He froze for a second before spinning around, his heart hammering in his chest. Two men were in his place. The nearest was a hulk of a man who looked like he belonged in a boxing ring, cauliflower ears and a broken nose adding credence to the image. He was white, though he clearly spent a lot of time outside, and the color of his hair was a mystery, since it had been shaved to the skin for long enough that the scalp was the same color as the rest of him.
Julian sat in one of the two kitchen chairs beside the behemoth. His foot was propped casually on his other knee, like it was perfectly normal for him and his goon to have broken into Teddy’s apartment.
“Sit down, amigo.” Julian gestured to the remaining chair.
Teddy sat, already noting the holster at the larger man’s side. His eyes lingered on the black matte grip, his mouth growing dry.
“You don’t look happy to see me, amigo. Surely we are still friends, yes?” Julian’s voice was friendly…too friendly. It left Teddy cold. He gave a small, barely-there nod of acknowledgement, but his lack of enthusiasm didn’t deter Julian. Like a snake, Julian’s grin widened.
“Good, because you see, I thought Lucas and I were friends, then I heard about his little plan to rat me out to the cops. You wouldn’t be thinking of ratting on me, would you?” Julian’s smile vanished, like it had never been there in the first place.
“No. Of course not,” Teddy lied. Sweat beaded on his forehead.
“Good, good, but see, I’m not sure I believe you, amigo. I think I need a little reassurance… Or maybe just some insurance, yeah?” Julian sat back in his chair, one hand resting on the table. He held the other one out to the large man, who dropped a small, clear baggie into his palm. Teddy saw three brightly colored pills inside. “Have you met Hugo yet?”