by Lolly Walter
Oh. Oh. Devin was right; Joe was a douchebag. He gripped Devin’s shoulder. It trembled under his hand. “We’ll go home. We’ll run. I’ll get us there fast and safe.”
Devin nodded, his eyes darting everywhere.
They ran, stopping at the edges of buildings and making sure the next open space was clear before running again. Gunfire wasn’t that common anymore; bullets had been in scarce supply for a long time. But Joe remembered his early days, both when he’d had a home and when he’d lived on the streets. Back then, shooting happened so frequently that he became cavalier about it. He came upon people after they’d been shot, sure, but he’d learned he wasn’t likely to be that kind of victim.
But Devin’s world had shattered because of someone with a gun.
All the moping of the past few days, the grieving for Ebony and her baby, the sadness over the loss of his status, worry about what Boggs would do to him, it all vanished in a heartbeat. Joe needed to do better for Devin, because the man had been through enough. They both had.
They ran under the highway and sprinted the distance home.
At the back entrance to the Flats, Oliver wordlessly opened the door. Joe and Devin hurried inside and joined a queue of amped up runners at the elevator. Several people stopped talking and stared at Joe and Devin, but Joe didn’t care.
He stepped in front of Devin, saw his round, haunted eyes as they stared at the floor, and turned to face the other runners. He put his hands in Devin’s and wrapped Devin’s arms tight around his body. To anyone looking on, Devin would appear to be the one doing the comforting.
“Did anyone see anything?” Joe asked. “The shots sounded like they came from near the highway.”
The boy who’d touched Devin in the elevator all those weeks ago stepped forward. “We was two blocks from the highway, jefe. The shots was loud over there, but it sounded like it came from our side.”
“We didn’t see nothing, though,” his partner, Gilbert, the boy with the scar, said.
Joe grimaced a little, less pleased to be called the boss than he would have expected. That the shots came from the east side of town wasn’t what he’d hoped to hear. Whatever went on in the city, most people didn’t cross the highway. If the gun had been fired on their side of the road, it was probably still out there.
“It’s probably nothing, but keep your eyes peeled even more than usual when you’re on your runs. Stay safe. Can I get a volunteer from B, C, and D to do a head count in about an hour? Make sure all your runners come back? I’ll send someone down from A after a while to check in.”
Seven or eight hands popped up, and Joe chose a representative from each floor. When the elevator doors opened and their group loaded in, the other runners left space for Joe and Devin. It wasn’t the gawking space of the past few days. Joe could tell the difference. This was the respectful distance the runners had kept from him since he’d become the A+ runner.
Devin’s body pressed hot against Joe’s back, and his breath condensed on Joe’s neck. At least his shaking had stopped. As they ascended, Devin rested his mouth on the space between Joe’s neck and shoulder. The heat and wetness of his breath turned Joe on. Once Devin was calm and all the runners accounted for, he and Devin were holing up for some private time featuring a lot of long overdue talking and exploration of each other.
When the B runners exited and they were left alone, Devin said, “This is making you horny isn’t it?”
“You have a problem with that?” Joe tilted his head to the side. Devin took the hint and sucked slow kisses up his neck.
“Crazy, power-drunk fucker. You know I don’t. We gonna talk first?”
“Mhm.”
“Thank you,” Devin whispered, and for a moment, the vulnerability returned. “Need you.”
The elevator dinged. The doors opened, and Joe let go of Devin’s hands. “We need to cool things down between us until we make sure everyone’s okay. It should be fine. No one was over on this side of the highway when the shooting was happening. Once we’re sure, we’ll go in our room, and I’ll tell you everything you want to know, give you everything you want.”
Devin moaned, hungry and desperate, and Joe had to wipe the smile off his face before he opened the door to the sleeping quarters. Zeke and Ebony wouldn’t appreciate them acting like lovesick newlyweds, and the other runners may need reassurance, too.
Inside the dorm, the A runners milled about as though nothing too exciting had happened. Over on one of the couches, Trig strummed his guitar while Roxy hummed along. A few of the younger runners had gathered around them, holding hands and swaying. Some people were on their beds. Joe guessed some would be in the cafeteria or the restroom.
When Trig noticed Joe, he stopped playing, and he and Roxy came over.
“Has everyone returned?” Joe asked. Taking charge again really was as easy as choosing to do it. He needed to thank Bea for the advice. She probably wouldn’t appreciate his thanks, but she deserved to hear it.
Roxy gave him a hug. “It’s good to see our Joesy back. No. Aubrey and Dottie, Flix and Marcus, and Victor and Bea aren’t back yet.”
“Aubrey and Dottie were several blocks farther west than we were, so they’ll probably be along soon. Does anyone remember where the twins and Victor and Bea were?”
A small crowd had gathered around them, and there were murmurs, but no one offered any information. The person most likely to know, Flix, hadn’t returned.
“Okay. In about” — Joe glanced at his timepiece — “forty-five minutes, can someone go down to the other floors and check to make sure all their runners have made it back?”
“I’ll do it,” Trig said. He hesitated at Joe’s shoulder. “Look, Joe… about the morning Nina went missing…”
“It’s fine.” Joe ignored Devin’s grumble behind him. “I understand.”
“He was an ass,” Roxy said. One hand rested on Joe’s forearm. The other rested on Trig’s. “And he’s sorry.”
The appearance of Dottie and Aubrey saved Joe from having to find a diplomatic way to let Trig off the hook and make sure Roxy knew how much he appreciated her faith in him. The returning runners were winded and a little shaken but otherwise all right.
Joe repeated his questions from the elevator lobby to the assembled runners. No one had seen anything, and as a group, they concluded that the shots had come from near the highway, possibly to the east.
A lot of talk centered around what the shots could mean, but Joe didn’t want to get into a guessing game. Odds were they came from some random scavenger spooked by a pack of dogs. No big deal. No sense in getting folks worried over what could be nothing.
Forty-five minutes passed slowly, and when Trig finally opened the door to check on the other runners, Flix and Marcus stumbled in, one on each side of Victor.
The world narrowed. Everything outside the straight line between Joe and Victor darkened until it didn’t exist. Joe took in Victor’s bloody lip; his shirt torn open and dripping blood at the shoulder; his scared, watery eyes; the way he watched Joe. Someone must have said something off to Victor’s left, because his eyes jerked that way for a moment, but he locked back on Joe before he spoke.
“Bea’s dead.”
Nine
Joe’s world bled red around the edges.
When the runners had learned Nina was taken, they’d whispered. Now they howled.
Shouts, sharp and indistinct, cut the air. A hand fell on Joe’s neck. He didn’t have to look to know it belonged to Devin. No one else would dare touch him right now.
Victor didn’t break eye contact. The boy Joe had loved a little bit and the man he’d hated, they both stared out of Victor’s eyes, begging Joe to understand.
“We thought we heard the baby. It was faint, and we weren’t sure. We went to check it out. It was scavengers. They didn’t have the baby, but they had guns. We ran and we tried to hide, but…” Victor shook his head and started to cry.
“Liar!” Joe screamed it, a
nd for the briefest moment, Devin’s hand gripped tight enough around his neck to keep him from moving, but then he was lunging forward, Devin’s nails scraping his skin as he broke away. “Liar!”
He hit Victor. Short, hard jabs to his chest, his side, his face. Victor stumbled back, taking one of the twins with him. Soft flesh gave way under Joe’s knuckles, bruises and welts and tears, the snap of bone. Hands pulled at Joe’s fists, but he didn’t stop, just kept pummeling. Victor. A twin. Whoever stood in his way.
The hand returned, the one that had held his neck. This time it circled his upper arm and flung him to the floor.
“Stop it.”
Tall and imposing, hands clenching and unclenching, Devin stood over Joe. His massive chest heaved. He tilted his head and looked so damned sorry. Joe scrambled up and away. He headed for their room only to stop halfway. He’d shared that space with Bea, then kicked her out and now she was dead. He whirled in the other direction, slammed past Devin’s reaching hand, and ran from the room.
In the hall, he mashed the elevator call button, then punched it when the elevator didn’t immediately appear. He kicked out, denting the metal doors, and he’d drawn back to throw another punch when they opened. He dove inside, pressed the button for the first floor, and slammed his fist into the button that would close the doors.
He looked up in time to see Devin’s face, ghostly pale and streaked with blood, before the doors closed him out.
Joe didn’t stop when he got off on the first floor. He ran from the building, ran from the street, ran away.
He didn’t notice where he was going. Didn’t think. He let the vicious pounding of his feet act as a substitute for the pounding of his fists into flesh. The day had been so beautiful: a perfect temperature, sunny, not filled with the stench of wildfires or toxic dust. He’d held his partner’s hand, wrapped himself in warm, capable arms, convinced himself to allow his partner to become his lover. He’d reclaimed his place in the world.
That all seemed like a life that belonged to a stranger. It wasn’t a life someone like him deserved.
***
Devin wasn’t sure whether he should knock on the church’s door frame or go on in. He settled for standing in the doorway until Joe turned around and saw him. When Joe turned back without a word, Devin came inside and sat down on one of the long benches in the back.
Light flooded the church from eight floor-to-ceiling windows, four on each side. The stained glass at the pulpit glimmered colorful and pristine, no panes broken. The glass didn’t make a picture, not some adoring Jesus or blessed virgin Mary. It was just pretty glass. Devin liked that. The ceiling arched severely inward into a long beam that ran the length of the church. The slope was impressive, and it made the room at once larger and cozier than it really was.
Religion hadn’t existed in Devin’s house. His parents, whatever they’d believed, hadn’t left any evidence of faith behind. He’d read plenty about churches in the stupid romance novels he’d so loved — white buildings with peaceful promises fulfilled and unfulfilled. He’d never stepped inside the real thing, never given much thought to what he believed beyond the next meal or the next day. Even when Tanner died, faith wasn’t something he considered until Tanner’s body was already deep in the ground. He tried to pray, but he didn’t know what to say, or to whom he should say it. In the end, he hadn’t said anything. Tanner was dead, and no one was bringing him back.
But this place was nice. Peaceful like the books had promised. Or it would be, if he wasn’t here because his only friend was devastated with grief.
Grief, though, grief Devin understood. And anger. He’d been brimming with both the day he’d met Joe. And Joe had tolerated it, accepted it, been patient and kind with him even when he’d been rude and hateful and so damned scared. The least he could do was wait in the back of a church for Joe to get his feet under him.
He sat a long time, listening to Joe’s breathing, contemplating heaven and hell and all the questions he hadn’t wanted to think about when Tanner had died.
The thoughts flowed easier with Bea. He had hoped they’d be friends eventually, mainly because she mattered to Joe. He remembered her holding his hand, telling him, “This is a maybe, not a yes,” when he’d asked to be her friend. They would have gotten there. And now they wouldn’t.
“Papi?” Joe was hoarse, his voice gravelly and pained. He hadn’t turned around.
Devin stood and walked up the aisle between the rows of benches. He sat next to Joe but was careful not to touch him. He’d let that be Joe’s call.
Joe stared at the stained glass, his hands still and folded in his lap. “I love you,” he said. “I think you should know that. It would be an even more revolting shame if I put all this in motion, got Bea killed, only to have a few extra dollars in a bank account that I’ll never use, or if I was too big a bastard to tell you how I feel. It would be an even worse waste.”
“I love you, too.” Devin didn’t contradict the rest of what Joe said. He wanted to, but for now, he let Joe have the guilt.
“Did I hurt you? You were bleeding when I left.”
“Nothing major. The medic came out when I was waiting for the elevator to come back, and she made me come in and get patched up.”
“Whichever twin I hit?”
“Flix. He’s fine. More shocked than anything. He showed me, on the map, how to get here after Ebony told me where I could find you.” In fact, Flix, with tears in his adolescent eyes, had made Devin promise to bring Joe home. The little shit was starting to grow on him.
“It’s pretty here, isn’t it? I belonged to this church when I was a boy, and sometimes, after, I’d bring Ebony when we needed a break from Victor.”
“You came here with your dad?”
“Yeah. My mom came here as a girl, even. Dad was an agnostic. He said Mom was skeptical but didn’t want to take chances. They got married here.”
Their quiet conversation echoed around the still room. Devin felt protected here, safe.
“It is beautiful. Like the outside world doesn’t exist.”
Joe took Devin’s hand. Both of his hands wrapped around one of Devin’s. His knuckles were bruised and swollen. Blood had crusted around the knuckle of his index finger. “I wish it was really like that. I’d wrap you in my arms, and we’d never leave.”
“We’d have to leave sometimes. It’s disrespectful to have sex in a church.”
Joe snorted, and his cheek rounded in a smile that fell away too soon. “Is someone going to retrieve Bea’s body?”
“Victor had to get healed up some first. He took a bullet to the shoulder and the leg. You broke his nose and his arm. Trig said he’d go with him. I think they were going to get a couple of guys from the B runners, too.”
“I should have killed Victor a long time ago.”
“You aren’t a killer.”
“I killed Bea.”
“Coincidence, circumstance, living in a shitty, horrible world where kids get left without parents and food and shelter, that killed Bea. You aren’t responsible.”
“If—”
“Stop. You’re not to blame. If you hadn’t made the choices you made, you and I wouldn’t be together. If you hadn’t taken me as your partner, I would have died. I never would have made it as a runner with anyone else. Don’t you dare ask me to feel guilty that I have you.” Devin stood and walked away. He needed to get control over himself. People said and did stupid things when they were hurting. If Joe had stuff to get out of his system, Devin could toughen up and bear it. He walked up the steps of the pulpit and sat down on another long bench. “Who sat up here? The less bad people?”
“Choir. I used to sing up there, believe it or not.”
Joe left his bench and sat next to Devin again. This time, Devin wrapped his arm tight around Joe’s shoulders and took a deep breath through his nose before he answered.
“You can sing?”
“I’m terrible. Like ‘drive animals away at the sound’ t
errible. I liked being in the choir, though. By the time I was old enough to have memories of this place, only about fifteen families still attended, so almost everyone sang in the choir, no matter how bad they were. I liked belonging.”
“It’s hard to picture you like that. Wanting to be a part of something.”
Joe stiffened. “I didn’t exactly have the best track record with the people I trusted. Kind of leads to wanting to be alone.”
Devin hadn’t meant it as an insult. Joe was remote, above everyone else, better. That was all. Slowly, so he didn’t make Joe jumpy, Devin trailed his fingers through Joe’s hair, then traced his thumb over Joe’s cheekbone, his jaw, his lips. When Joe relaxed and closed his eyes, Devin cupped his jaw and kissed him, as chaste and gentle as their first kiss.
Afterward, Joe leaned into Devin’s hand, his eyes still closed. His long, dark eyelashes fanned over his cheeks, and his lips were parted.
Want stirred in Devin, and despite what he’d said about sex in a church, his imagination veered in that direction. How perfect it would be to cover Joe’s body with his own, to take him in this quiet place, in this peace.
A tear slid down Joe’s cheek.
Devin swallowed his desire and kissed the tear away.
They sat silently for a bit, and Devin was sorry they’d moved. He’d liked studying the stained glass. Now all he had to look at was the building, the rows of benches staring back at him. He imagined the eyes of parishioners staring at the preacher, up here all alone. Leading, being responsible for others, was hard. Devin never could have been a leader the way Joe had. Losing Tanner, his own leader, had been devastating. Losing someone he was responsible for — that had to be worse.
“My name isn’t Joe.”
Devin hadn’t expected Joe to talk more, so he was almost as surprised by the noise as he was by what Joe said. Joe had opened his eyes and was staring at him.
“It’s not José, either, like you thought when we met.”
“I was a jerk.”
“Yeah.” Joe smiled. “But I understand why now. I need to tell you about me, okay?”
