by Riley Knight
So he turned to face Malcolm’s brothers, and he laid it all out on the line for them. Not his feelings for Malcolm, because that wasn’t only his secret to tell, but everything else. How he had been there to try to use high-pressure tactics to get Malcolm to sell, and how he was giving up, going home, walking away from all of it.
There wasn’t a chance for them to say anything, though, before the sound of another car approaching broke the silence. Most days, it was rare to get two cars in a day, but this was two cars in less than an hour.
This was not a normal day.
* * *
It was Skyler who drove up.
Of course, it was. Skyler might be quiet, but he had a will of steel, and Kyle had known deep down that he wasn’t going to be able to keep Skyler from doing whatever he wanted, or, in this case, what he thought was best. Kyle could tell, from the moment that his best friend stepped out of the car, that he didn’t really want to be here at all, but he was here anyway.
“Who’s that, Kyle?” Derrick asked, but then Logan walked out of the house with a face like a thunderhead and a quick, long-legged stride that would have easily left Kyle behind in seconds. Derrick watched, an expression on his face that Kyle didn’t know quite how to interpret, but it did break through his own worry.
What was the story with Logan and Derrick? Anything? They didn’t seem to like each other that much, except why, then, did Derrick, without a word, turn to go after Logan? Kyle shook his head. It was none of his business, not to mention he had stuff of his own to deal with right at the moment.
So that left just him and Craig to greet Skyler as he walked toward them. Kyle, despite his worry, had to fight off a bit of a smirk as Skyler approached. He was seeing this from the other side now, Skyler in his fussy suit seeming as much out of place as Kyle knew that he must have seemed to Malcolm and Logan and everyone else when he’d arrived.
“Damn it, Skyler, I told you not to come.” Kyle sighed softly, finding it hard to look into the eyes of his friend. His decision here, to walk away from this job, it wasn’t only going to affect him.
“I know. I came anyway.” There was anxiety in the other man’s eyes, and his lips were set in a tense, unhappy line. How much pressure had Skyler been under? From the looks of it, probably quite a lot, which meant that it must have been Wyatt who had done it. Who else would?
Kyle’s dislike for the man grew, and he hadn’t thought that was possible. Even if he had still been willing to work for him, that would have gone right out the window the moment that Wyatt started to harass his best friend. Kyle cared about very few people, really, but those he did, he was fiercely protective of.
Wrapping a companionable arm around Skyler’s shoulders, Kyle gave him the sort of one-armed hug that he knew Skyler would accept. Even though the guy had never been all that big on touching, he could take this, and Kyle wanted to offer some comfort.
Before he made everything that much worse, guilt rushed through him. There was no way for him to win this one, no way for him to get everything that he wanted—no way for him to ethically get out of this without hurting his best friend. The situation just kept on getting messier and messier.
“Come inside. I have things to explain,” Kyle told Skyler, with a tone of voice that was more gentle than most people would expect from him. Skyler, at least, found it suspicious and gave him a bit of a look. But he did go with Kyle into the house, so that was something.
There was a lot that he needed to tell his friend, but he would do it in the only place that he was reasonably sure they wouldn’t be interrupted, Kyle’s bedroom. So that was where he headed, his arm still slung around Skyler’s shoulders. He had to hope, almost against hope itself, that he and Skyler would still be friends at the end of all of this.
Until he opened the door to his bedroom and everything else fled right out of his mind. Beside him, Skyler let out a startled little gasp, and even Kyle, who prided himself on being able to hold everything together, felt a scream of horror and outrage bubbling up into the back of his throat like bile.
SIXTEEN
For just a few moments, Malcolm had allowed himself to do something stupid. He had let himself stop thinking about why Kyle was here. Had pretended, deep inside of himself, the epitome of denial, that Kyle was somehow just around because he wanted to be around Malcolm as much as Malcolm wanted to be with him.
It was the height of delusion, and Malcolm had no one to blame but himself. From the moment that he had seen Kyle in the same room as both Craig and Derrick, he had felt tendrils of doom settling around his body. It was no secret to him that Craig and Derrick didn’t feel the connection to this place that Malcolm did. They had, after all, gotten out of there as soon as they could, leaving Malcolm to do it without them. Derrick had gone to school, Craig into the military, and now, they were both back.
It was the worst possible timing, for them to come back while Kyle was still here. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Malcolm was about to be seriously ganged up on. He could count on Logan to have his back, he figured. Logan didn’t want to lose the place any more than Malcolm did. And surely he could rely on Anna, but, in the end, it was going to be Malcolm’s decision. He and his brothers were the ones who were going to have to decide, and Malcolm, he knew, was the only one who gave a shit about this ranch.
For the first time, he seriously allowed himself to consider selling. The ranch was big enough that it could bring in a decent chunk of change, enough for him not to worry about money for a while. That would be a minor miracle. And his brothers could take their share, Derrick to go off and probably become some sort of world famous doctor. He would be good, Malcolm knew, at whatever he did. As for Craig, Malcolm had no idea what he wanted to do, but it wouldn’t hurt to have money behind him, whatever it was.
So he could sell. He could do it. He was the only one standing in the way of the sale happening because even their father had made it clear that he would respect whatever they decided to do. Of course, the man didn’t want to sell the place that had been in the family for years.
There was one place, and only one place, to go, and that was his bedroom. In a few moments, when he had pulled himself together, he would go saddle a horse and ride as hard and fast as his trusty mare could bring him. For now, though, he flopped on the bed, and it had been more than a decade since he had last flung himself with teenaged drama down onto his bed, but he did so then.
“Just go away,” he growled, hearing the slight squeak of his door as someone pushed it open. It was Logan, of course. He knew that without even having to look up, because who else could it be? Who else would come after Malcolm when his temper had kicked in?
“You’re thinking of selling,” Logan replied, and Malcolm did raise his head, hearing an edge in Logan’s normally easygoing voice that he wasn’t used to hearing. “Aren’t you?”
Malcolm didn’t answer. But he knew from the flash of anger which crossed Logan’s face that Logan knew the answer without Malcolm having to say anything.
“No. You can’t. You can’t do it.” Logan came into the room, even daring to sit down on the bed beside Malcolm, although most people chose the times that his temper spun out to stay as far away from Malcolm as possible. “Damn it, Malcolm, this ranch means too much to you, and to me. You can’t throw that away just because it would be easy.”
“It’s not just because it would be easy.” The anger was gone, replaced with a low-key, nagging anxiety which niggled at the very edges of his stomach and threatened to escalate quickly. But Logan deserved to know. If Malcolm was contemplating throwing everything away for Kyle, then Logan needed to know why.
“It’s because of the lawyer, isn’t it?”
It was like Logan had read his mind, and Malcolm just stared stupidly at him. He found that he couldn’t summon a single word, panic rushing through him as he tried to make words, any words, come up. He could deny it, or he could admit it. Denying it would be old and comfortable, but dishonest. He wasn�
��t sure which way he should jump on this one.
“Goddamn it, Malcolm. You’re going to throw everything away for him?” Logan didn’t even sound surprised, and that was maybe the worst part about it. He had figured out what Malcolm had been so sure that he and Kyle had kept secret.
Logan didn’t give Malcolm another chance to say anything. He stormed out of the room, angry enough that he actually slammed the door behind him, a rare display of temper. Malcolm was left with the uncomfortable feeling that he deserved it.
Logan had come out to him, but Malcolm hadn’t given him the same courtesy back. Malcolm had chosen to keep hiding, to not tear down that barrier. No wonder his best friend was pissed off that he had to figure it out himself rather than be told by the man who was supposed to tell him everything.
Secrets, it seemed, were a habit that weren’t easy to break. But he should have made an effort. Logan had, for him, and Logan had grown up the same way that Malcolm had. Malcolm was a coward.
He had meant to go out for a ride, but he found himself not quite daring to do so. Instead, he went to look out his window into the gathering twilight, and from there, he realized, he could see that Kyle and Craig and Derrick were standing around, chattering softly to each other. Malcolm couldn’t hear them, of course. His window was shut, but even if it hadn’t been, he doubted he would have been able to. The distance was just too great.
Besides, he didn’t think his raw feelings could take that just now. Hearing someone that he loved plot with Malcolm’s own brothers to take everything away was just too much. But he did stand and watch, and he tried to tell himself that he hated Kyle still. That he wasn’t noticing the way that the late afternoon sunshine touched his hair and turned it to a lovely bronze, or made his pale skin seem to glow.
It was hopeless, though. He had been hit by the man’s beauty first thing, and though he had grown to love more than just Kyle’s looks, the looks were there. Every so often, it hit Malcolm over the head just how thoroughly out of his league he was when it came to Kyle. Even if Kyle did want to be open about being with a man, it would never be a half worn down old cowboy like Malcolm.
A car drove up, and that caught Malcolm’s attention. There were whole days that went by with no cars whatsoever, and he peered curiously into the driveway as a car, a slick, clean one that made it all too clear it was a rental, pulled up and a very small, slender man in a suit got out.
It was almost like deja vu. He could still remember watching on horseback as Kyle stepped out of the car, and it had only been, what, a few weeks? As ridiculous as it sounded, everything had changed so much in that time, and he found that a slight smile lingered on the corners of his lips even as he wondered just who this newcomer was. He had honestly thought that it might be Wyatt, finally coming to see to matters himself instead of sending representatives, but this man was small and slender and dark, not anything like Wyatt.
But a fair bit like Kyle, though. Which just added to the strange feelings inside of Malcolm. He should hate Kyle, but he had somehow never quite been able to manage it, no matter how he tried.
The man went to stand by Kyle, at around the same time as Logan stormed out of the house and toward the stable. Derrick followed him with his gaze and then took off after him, leaving the newcomer with Kyle and Craig.
It was a bit like watching some sort of stupid tv drama, but with the sound turned off. Even from as far away as Malcolm was, he could see the look on Derrick’s face for just a moment. Derrick and Logan had always had a strained relationship, but then, Derrick, brainy as he was, tended to have a bit of a dismissive attitude toward anyone who worked on the ranch. But that didn’t explain why Derrick went after Logan.
Moments later, Malcolm felt his hackles rise as he watched Kyle throw an arm that looked far too affectionate around the new man. They came together into the house, and Craig looked after them before following them in. Malcolm really barely knew Craig. He had been gone for years, after all, and the military had changed him as far as Malcolm could tell. His younger brother had always been the prankster, the one with a ready, goofy smile on his lips, but there were new depths in Craig’s eyes that Malcolm hadn’t seen there before.
Malcolm frowned, staring down at the empty yard, trying to decide his next step. He should leave the house, he decided. Get on Star and go, a bit belated but better late than never.
Anything, he thought, to try to get away from these intensely uncomfortable feelings.
And it was then that he heard the scream. He had never heard Kyle scream before, and he would have had his doubts as to whether it was something that Kyle would even allow himself to do or not, but he immediately knew that it was Kyle who had uttered that brief, startled, sound. Something had scared Kyle badly enough that he would show it, and that was hard to do.
Instantly, something rippled along Malcolm’s skin, making it prickle over his whole body. Whatever had made Kyle make that sound, that thing was going to pay because Kyle wasn’t the sort of person who would casually scream.
In a split second, Malcolm was out of his room, all of his anger, all of his hurt feelings, utterly swept out of his head. Even the way that Kyle had held the new guy so close, which had honestly caused a fair bit of jealousy, didn’t matter anymore. Whoever the guy was, that wasn’t important. What mattered was getting to Kyle as soon as possible, and he barreled down the hall.
Luckily, Kyle wasn’t that far away, just down the hallway, standing outside of his room with his arm still around the other man, who was even smaller than Kyle was. Malcolm caught the impression of big, round, sea-green eyes and a full, wide, generous mouth which was currently parted with shock, probably not only from whatever had made Kyle scream but also from Malcolm’s abrupt entrance.
“What is it?” he started, and then he stood behind Kyle and whoever the other guy was, easily able to look over their heads to see the room within.
Or the remnants of it, anyway. The place was a complete disaster. Whoever had trashed the place couldn’t have had very long to do it, but they had done a very thorough job. There was a viscous red substance splattered all over everything, the bed, all of Kyle’s possessions, which had been turned out onto the floor, the walls. And on those very same walls, in the very same scarlet which was covering the rest of the room, two words were spelled out over and over again in oversized, hastily formed letters.
GO HOME GO HOME GO HOME.
* * *
There were only so many people who could have done this—only so many people who had been alone long enough to do it. Malcolm knew, if he just figured it out, if he could think past the unthinking, blind, red-hot rage which was going through him for a few seconds, he could narrow it down, but it was honestly taking everything in him just to keep himself from throwing himself at Kyle and pulling him into his arms. Maybe even apologizing, because this had all happened in Malcolm’s house, under his roof.
He was furious. He was worried. And Kyle, he couldn’t help but notice, just stayed very quiet and still, folded up in himself with only the new man for company. It was like he didn’t trust anyone else. Whoever this small man was, he was important to Kyle, that much was clear.
How important? Even in the midst of everything else, even when Craig, with all of his military discipline, started to round up everyone who had been in the house that day and therefore had access to Kyle’s room, he couldn’t stop himself from wondering who the quiet, solemn man with the eyes the color of the ocean was to Kyle.
After all, Kyle had been very clear that Malcolm hadn’t been his first partner. Wasn’t it possible that this man was Kyle’s lover? Or had been, in the past? Was he Kyle’s type? Because if this newcomer was Kyle’s type, then Malcolm had no chance at all.
Finally, everyone was in the room. Even Mary Anne was there, looking very pale so that her mother had an arm around her. Logan was the last one to be rounded up, but finally, he must have looked at his phone and seen Malcolm’s text messages.
The living roo
m was fuller than usual. There weren’t usually more than two, maybe three, people in it at a time. But they were all there, including Kyle’s, ahem, friend, if that was what he was, which brought the total of people to eight.
It took Kyle a few seconds to lay out the situation, and Malcolm found himself glad that Kyle stepped up to do it. He wasn’t sure he would be able to keep his voice under control nearly as well as Kyle was. But the other man had a way of laying out the facts in a very brief, succinct way. He really must be a hell of a lawyer, and though he had rarely thought about it before, Malcolm found himself dimly wondering why someone like Kyle would be doing a job so completely outside of his normal job description.
Malcolm still wasn’t sure if he regretted Kyle coming or not. He’d had the highest highs and the lowest lows of his life with this man around. And he still didn’t know who this newcomer was to Kyle since there had been a lot of other things going on.
There was a long pause after Kyle said what he had to say, and then Anna spoke up slowly, obviously reluctantly.
“I saw Logan by Kyle’s room.”
The living area had been silent as people digested the news, and all of them looked horrified to the point where Malcolm found himself a little freaked out. It had to be someone in this room who had done it, who had inflicted property damage and obvious trauma on Kyle, but they all looked completely innocent.
Someone was lying, though, and that left a seriously bad taste in his mouth.
Logan glanced up, realized everyone was staring at him, and then frowned. There could be no doubt that the man had been distracted recently, and he had been seen storming out of the house. As much as everything in Malcolm screamed at him that this couldn’t be right, that he knew Logan too well and there was just no way, he had to admit that those were just facts. Logan had been in the right place at the right time or could have been.
