Trapped in Your Storm

by Darien Cox

  “Nolan—”

  “Fuck you, Elliot. You mixed business and pleasure just fine when you were fucking every twenty-something in the village. But you can’t do it with me? Because I’m not some twink who’ll follow you around worshipping your dick? Suddenly you can’t take the risk because I’m not some kid you can manipulate then discard?”

  “Stop talking, Nolan. You’re on the verge of saying something I’m gonna regret.”

  “Because God forbid you might actually feel something and have to take this seriously. Worst case scenario for you. Easier to run away, go back to your brainless fuck-boys.”

  Elliot’s back straightened. All the softening he’d experienced the past days hardened to a sharp point, his instincts throwing a defensive perimeter up at Nolan’s scathing, petty words. “Whatever’s going on between us, you don’t get to speak to me like that. No one gets to speak to me like that.”

  Nolan’s shoulders slumped and he took a step back. “I’m sorry. I’m just saying—”

  “And you sure as shit don’t get to judge me, Nolan. You of all people. You talk to me about risks? What risks have you taken? The only thing close to a relationship you’ve had was with Michelle. A member of the team. Someone who already knew your secrets. Someone you wouldn’t have to put in the work with. So I’ve had lots of meaningless sex. Least I’ve put myself out there. What have you done but hide?”

  Nolan’s eyes clouded over, and Elliot knew he’d only succeeded in escalating the problem. Logically he knew Nolan’s harsh words were coming from a place of hurt. Understandably. They’d just started moving toward an intimate relationship, and Elliot had basically just said, ‘I quit you all, bye.’ But it was in Elliot’s nature to fire back when attacked, and it hurt him to have his life choices questioned by Nolan of all people, who was supposed to accept all that he was. Nolan, who claimed to like everything about him, who boasted that he’d always have his back.

  “Elliot. I’m sorry for lashing out, but that was a low blow. My feelings for you have nothing to do with my past relationships.”

  “Don’t they? Because I see a pattern. Is that why you’re going after me? I’m the only single one left in the circle of people you can be real with? No effort required?”

  Nolan’s face fell. “That’s what you think? That you’re a convenience choice?” He shook his head. “You think there has to be some external reason for my pursuing you? I want you for you, Elliot. Do you really not see that?”

  “Don’t know. Maybe I have low self-esteem. You should probably check with all the brainless fuck-boys I’ve discarded.”

  Elliot’s eyes shifted when he saw JT and Christian step out of the pub, moving toward them. “Elliot!” JT said. “I want to talk to you.”

  Christian grabbed JT’s arm and tugged him away. “Abort! Abort! He’s talking to Nolan.”

  JT scowled at Christian. “So?”

  Anxiety swelled and Elliot felt that old familiar panic setting in, a sensation that had blessedly stayed away for months, returning suddenly in the form of a cold fist squeezing his throat. I need to get away from these people.

  Elliot turned and sprinted off down the sidewalk, forgoing his vehicle. He heard voices calling after him, but kept running. Fleeing from his friends. Fleeing from Nolan. Running from the drama, and henceforth becoming a drama queen himself.

  Who the fuck am I? What have I become?

  Everything Elliot thought he knew was in question. His job. His place in the world. Where he stood with his friends. How he felt about himself. And so he ran, through the dimly lit streets of Singing Bear Village. Past the lanterns and Halloween decorations. Weaving through the festive Friday night crowds. He kept running until he was past the main village, then he slowed, turning left to walk down onto the beach edging the lake.

  He sat on the sand in the cold, quiet darkness, staring up at the shadowy mountains, listening to the gentle waves lapping against the shore. Nolan’s words played back in his mind. ‘…God forbid you might actually feel something.’

  Elliot chuckled, tossing a stone into the water. “Well, here you go Nolan,” he muttered. “Here’s what happens to me when I actually feel something.”

  Christ, Nolan was right. About everything. Elliot had handled dealing with dangerous people, living on the fringe, contacting extraterrestrials. And he’d always maintained control of himself. But add some emotional uncertainty to his life, the possibility of being vulnerable and putting his heart in someone else’s hands—and he ran like a frightened deer.

  He looked up at the stars over the mountains. In the far distance, he watched one of them move across the sky. “Go ahead,” he whispered. “Beam me the fuck up.”

  The star shot straight up and disappeared into the cosmos.

  Elliot snorted. “Yeah. Fuck you too.”

  He sat quietly for a spell, urging his nerves to calm, waiting for his heart to stop pounding. Then he heard a car pull up. Footfalls crunching on the sand behind him. Didn’t have to question who it was—he recognized JT’s stride.

  “You forgot your jacket.” JT draped Elliot’s leather over his shoulders.

  “Thanks.”

  JT sat down beside him, picking up pebbles and tossing them in the lake. “I’m sorry, Elliot.”

  “Me too.”

  “I think that Brett guy just threw us all for a loop. I didn’t mean to take it out on you. You have every right to be feeling whatever you’re feeling. Even if that includes thinking about walking away.”

  Elliot sighed, staring out at the dark lake. “Did Christian go to the hospital to get his lip dealt with?”

  “Yeah. Nolan took him.”

  Elliot nodded. “Myles is gonna kill us.”

  JT laughed. “Probably.”

  They sat in silence for a long time. Elliot had needed to be alone, but the warm press of JT’s shoulder beside him was comforting.

  “El. Christian just told me.”

  Elliot looked at JT. JT’s long blond hair blew back in the lake breeze, his blue eyes pained and serious. “Christian told you what?”

  “About you and Nolan.”

  “Oh.” Elliot blew out a breath and faced the lake again. “Guess I can’t get away with calling you an incestuous little bunch anymore. Can I?”

  JT dug at the sand with a sliver of driftwood. “Don’t worry. I’m not gonna make you talk about it. You’ve obviously had enough tonight.”

  Elliot chuckled. “Yeah. I snapped. Didn’t I?”

  JT turned his head and smiled. “Happens to everyone.”

  “Not usually to me.”

  JT shrugged and tossed the driftwood into the water. “Yeah, well. I guess a lot of unusual shit’s been happening to you lately. I wish you’d have come talk to me about it. You’ve always been there for my meltdowns. It’s the least I could do.”

  “You’ve always held your own for the most part.”

  JT looked at him. “When I started up with Rudy and the Whites were targeting him, you insisted on coming with me to Boston. You were there for me through all of it. You wouldn’t allow me to fall apart. Kept me grounded. It made me feel safe, knowing you’d always be at my side. That meant the world to me. So why you acting like you’re all alone, huh?”

  Elliot’s head bowed and he buried his face in his hands. Suddenly his eyes throbbed with unshed tears and he sucked in a breath of cold air. “I don’t know what’s happening to me.” His voice cracked. “I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

  JT’s arm wrapped around him and held him tight. “It’s okay.”

  Elliot pressed his palms against his eyes, a tremor running through his back. “I just had my first fight with Nolan. Like, ever. We said really shitty things to each other.” He wiped his eyes and looked at JT. “Now I have this ache inside and it’s the worst thing I’ve ever felt.”

  JT tugged him close and leaned his head against Elliot’s. “If it’s any consolation, I think he’s feeling even shitter than you are. Judging by the look of
him before I drove after you.”

  Elliot chuckled. “Yeah, thanks. That’s not helpful.”

  “Can I say something to you about Nolan without it coming off like I’m interfering?”

  At this point, it was kind of futile to play the unaffected wiseass, so Elliot nodded.

  “You know Nolan confided in me when the Michelle thing went down.”

  “Okay. I shouldn’t be surprised. Everyone confides in you. He never really talked to me about it, but then I didn’t ask.”

  “She told him it was over with Brock. She went after Nolan hard. Said she loved him. Nolan told me he knew even then it was grief talking. Over losing her family. The inevitability of probably having to leave the team. But Nolan went along with it anyway. Because he realized he wanted to feel loved. For the first time. You know his parents never said it. They discarded him when they found out he liked guys as much as girls. It’s why he joined the military so young. He had nowhere else to go.”

  “He never shared that detail with me.”

  “Nolan isn’t much of a sharer. But he talks to me. He loves Michelle but wasn’t in love with her, Elliot. He feels guilty. He blamed the whole thing on his own issues. He regrets it deeply.”

  “Why are you telling me this? Why should I care what happened with Nolan and Michelle? It’s his business.”

  “Because he swore to me he’d never do anything so stupid again. I’m telling you this so you’ll know that Nolan wouldn’t take starting something with you lightly. If he’s doing so, it’s because he has real feelings for you.”

  Elliot shrugged. “I don’t know what to think about Nolan. He terrifies me now and I hate that. He’s always been the one who kept me solid.”

  “You know he used the exact same words as you before I left the pub just now?”

  “What words?”

  “He said ‘I feel like I’m losing my mind.’ You’re not the only one shaken by this.”

  Elliot laughed, nodding. “Yeah. So what is this little talk about, really? Trying to push me to let go of my bullshit and give things a fair shake with Nolan?”

  “Nah.” JT shook his head. “You do what you want to do. I just wanted you to have all the facts.” He looked at Elliot. “But out of pure nosiness, do you have feelings for Nolan?”

  “Doesn’t matter. It’s only been a few days and already everything’s turned to shit between us. Which is exactly what I was afraid would happen. I should have shut him down the first time he broached the subject.”

  “But…you didn’t. Why?”

  Elliot turned to JT. “Maybe I did the same thing he did with Michelle. Maybe I wanted to try on what it felt like being loved. So I shut down what logic was telling me. That it could never work.”

  JT shrugged. “Guess that’s for you to decide.”

  “I can’t decide anything. I need to sleep. Sweet, sweet unconsciousness. Not having to think.”

  JT stood. “Come on. I’ll drive you home.”

  Elliot climbed to his feet and followed JT off the beach. “Thanks. For coming after me.”

  “I always will. So if you’re still thinking of quitting the team, I warn you now. I’m not gonna make it easy on you.”

  Elliot laughed. “Fair enough.”

  JT dropped Elliot off, and he stripped on the way to his bedroom, falling onto the mattress without a care for brushing his teeth or anything else that required effort.

  But when he reached that sweet unconsciousness he sought, it was not without thought. He dreamed. All night. Of Nolan touching him. Nolan’s lips. Nolan’s breath in his ear, whispering. But when he tried to discern what Nolan was saying, the words turned into wind.

  Wind whipping through the mountain trees as Elliot walked along a deadwood path in the dark. In the distance, a moonlight-colored form in a tree. Then he saw Baz. Strung up by his wrists. Head down, white hair hanging over his face. Yet somehow Elliot knew it was Baz. Bruised. Bleeding. Naked. One white leg bent at an odd angle, like it had been broken with force.

  Baz lifted his head, one large eye swollen shut. “Ellytot,” he whispered.

  Elliot jolted awake, panting and covered in sweat. He ran to the bathroom and nearly vomited, heaving over the toilet. After splashing his face with cold water, he calmed and checked the time. Still hours before dawn, he crawled back into bed, staring at the ceiling. Dream or not, he made a decision. Ogden and his strategies could go fuck themselves. Elliot wanted to try again to contact Baz. Dreams were only dreams. Elliot had no psychic abilities, and he’d never seen evidence that Baz did either.

  But he trusted his gut. And his gut was telling him something was very, very wrong up in those mountains. And Elliot wasn’t going to quit the team or run from Nolan, Singing Bear Village, or anything in his life until he figured out exactly what it was.

  Chapter Eleven

  Nolan finished buttoning his ruffled white shirt, then picked up the black silk cape and flung it over his shoulders, tying it at the neck. He scowled at his appearance. He was the lamest vampire ever. He’d forgotten to pick up fangs. Putting off coming up with a costume until the last minute, he was stuck working with what he had. He was already late, having told JT he’d be at the pub an hour ago.

  He slicked his dark hair back and tied it off. Picked up the tube of fake blood and made a little dribble from the corner of his mouth. That would have to do.

  He stepped outside and looked at his truck, newly painted over after Brett’s stupid vandalism trick. He got in and headed down the road along the lake, the beaches strewn with bonfire parties. As he drove to the pub, he wondered if Elliot would bother showing up tonight. Nolan hadn’t heard from him at all. But he hadn’t bothered to reach out himself. Elliot needed time to cool off after their fight. They both did. But not being able to just pick up the phone and call his best friend made his stomach ache.

  Cars lined the street leading up to the pub, and Nolan had to loop around a few times to find a place to park, as the lot was packed full. It seemed the entire village was at the pub tonight for JT’s Halloween party. Nolan could hear the thumping bass of music as he approached the door, then his ears were assaulted by White Zombie’s version of ‘I’m Your Boogieman’ when he stepped inside.

  He paused before venturing into the crowd, awed by the sheer numbers of people inside. The entire room seemed to vibrate, tables cleared away to form a huge dance floor in the center, and a horde of devils, witches, zombies, and creatures he couldn’t identify flailed about dancing. He smiled at the severed arms and legs that hung from the ceiling, flashing with neon light. He’d helped JT pick them out, but they looked even better than he’d expected. A large movie screen hung on both side walls. One had a black and white Nosferatu lurching through a scene. On the other screen Nolan recognized the blood sprays and toothy Kandarian demons of Evil Dead II.

  At the bar, someone dressed as former first lady Jackie Kennedy was waving to him. Pink skirt suit, pillbox hat over a short black wig, heels, even a blood spatter across the jacket—it took Nolan a moment to realize he was looking at Christian. Nolan approached the bar, shaking his head. “You have got to be kidding me.”

  Christian smiled. “What? Too tasteless?”

  “It’s perfect.” Christian’s lip was still swollen, a few stitches on the right side. “Nice eye shadow. Could have used some lipstick though. Your lip okay?”

  “It’s sore but they said it’s not gonna leave a scar.”

  “The stitches are a nice macabre touch, but I don’t think Jackie Kennedy wore fishnet stockings with that outfit.”

  “Meh. I had to give it my own flair. Hey, you look hot!” Christian’s eyes gave Nolan a once over. “I’d let you drink my blood.”

  “Gimme a break. I’m the lamest vampire ever.”

  “Nah, you look good. Very Transylvanian prince. Works with your height and your hair.”

  JT strode by, shirtless in bibbed overalls, scraggly pieces of straw strategically weaved through his blond hair. He did a doub
le take and stopped when he saw Nolan, grinning with a blacked-out tooth. “Hey, there you are! We were starting to think you blew us off. You missed the costume contest.”

  “Who won?”

  “The judge is calculating. Elliot’s gonna announce the winner in a few minutes.”

  “JT!” Tammy shouted from behind the bar. “We need more vodka!”

  “Okay, hang on!” He patted Nolan’s shoulder. “Have fun. Catch up with you guys later.”

  After JT took off, Nolan turned to Christian, who was sneering at something on the dance floor. “What’s that face for?”

  Christian pointed. “That,” he said, “is disturbing.”

  Nolan laughed when he saw two Grey aliens dancing, huge sloped heads and big black eyes. “You realize they’re not real, right?”

  Christian frowned up at Nolan. “Grey aliens are too real.”

  “Yeah, but I’m talking about the ones dancing. That’s Jimmy from the bait shop and his girlfriend. I recognize his pot-belly.” Nolan hesitated, then asked, “So Elliot’s here?”

  “He is,” Christian said. “Oh, speaking of aliens, Elliot and I tried to contact Baz today. He had a bad dream or something and wanted to try. Went to that spot in the woods near Myles’ house where I spoke with Baz once before. We tried for two hours. No joy.”

  “So you…hung out with Elliot all day?”

  Christian cocked a painted eyebrow. “Yeah. As I often do.”

  “Did he say anything about me?”

  Christian laughed. “And you call me immature.”

  “Come on.”

  “We didn’t sit around gossiping about you. We were trying to contact Baz.”

  “You’re telling me you spent all day with him, after our big blowout yesterday, and I wasn’t mentioned once?”

  Christian faced the dance floor again, avoiding Nolan’s eyes. “Nolan. It’s not my place to be a go-between.”

  “Oh please. You’ve been all over this thing with me and Elliot. Why you clamming up now?”

  Christian sighed.