Every Thorn
Baja, Mexico
(Brian’s POV)
“Bastard!”
I didn’t hear Dom come out of the house but I know he’s standing right
behind me when something cold drips onto my bare chest. Opening
my eyes, sitting up, I grab the beer from his hand. “Bastard,” I
repeating, grouching, and he chuckles – that low rumble of his – as he
drops into the battered beach chair beside mine, swallowing half his
beer before reaching out to me.
His hand hovers half an inch from my face for a second before he drags
his fingers through my hair. He keeps looking at me with this…
weird expression. And I get it. I understand. He and
I… it wasn’t what I’d expected either.
Not that we didn’t have a clue. We’d been digging on each other
since that first night – all meaningful stares, sharing things we
couldn’t have told our best friends, saying stuff to each other just to
be talkin’. Nothin’ and no one would have got us to admit
it. Not in a million years. We’re guys. We like
girls. Period.
He fucked Letty with my name on his lips. I took Mia to my bed
cos in a strange way it was one way of being close to him.
That was why he introduced me to the charger just after threatening to
break my neck if I broke Mia’s heart, why he chose then to tell me
about his Dad and to explain why he’d beaten that guy half to
death. Cos in a way I’d pledged myself to Mia in that moment -
he’d made me do it - and by telling me what he’d never told anyone else
he was re-staking his claim.
Yeah, Dom. Saw straight through you. Wish you’d seen
straight through me. I really do.
Don’t suppose it matters now.
'Come with me,' he’d said.
I couldn’t think why he’d want me near him after what I’d done.
With all the lies between us stripped away, was there anything
left? There’d been somethin’, that was for sure. Something
unspoken, something indefinable. Something silent. Best
left that way. Both of us together are like two combustible
chemicals just waiting to ignite.
But in the end, what did I have to hang around for? Tanner and
Bilkins weren't about to let this one slide. I could have said
Dom put a gun to my head but it would only have given them one more
charge to add to his rap sheet. I'd made my decision. I'd
chosen my side. Might as well accept it, go with it. See
where it leads.
The Toyota would have gotten us where we wanted to go but it was like a
marker sticking out on the roads. Might as well give the cops
directions.
Dom drove us to a garage outta town. Gotta give it to him, he'd
always planned on one day having to leave in a hurry. He handed
over the key to the Toyota. All the work we'd put into it -
Jesse's engineering, Mia’s artwork, our craftsmanship - didn't count
for shit now. We couldn't keep it. In return we picked up
an inconspicuous brown Mustang. Despite what it looked like,
under the hood was a whole different story. Yeah. Dom had
definitely planned.
We showered together at Max’s place just to save time. Dom was
injured from the crash – a couple of cracked ribs, he thought, maybe a
concussion.
So it was me driving when we hit the road.
Four straight hours, crossing the border with so much ease it seemed
impossible and I was suspicious all the way through to Ensenada.
No way was Tanner letting us go. But no way they hadn’t figured
it out either. Bilkins is dumb but not that dumb. He knows
we’d run for the border.
Dom hadn’t said more than a couple of words the entire trip but that
was cool. We both had a lot to say but I think that was the point
- we both did. Sure, I’d been lying to him about who I was.
But we both knew it was the only lie I’d told. He was guilty
after all. I’d known it all along. Tanner was right.
I’d known I just hadn’t wanted to admit it. Hadn’t wanted to
accept it.
The first night, when Dom told me he’d die before he went back to jail
I believed him. I couldn’t let that happen. I
wouldn’t. I won’t.
(Dom’s POV)
Everything changed. In the space of a day.
Race Wars. I’d watched Letty make two grand off some poor
unsuspecting guy. It's always been the same with her. A lot
of guys see her behind the wheel and figure she's just playing catch-up
with her boyfriend. How wrong can they get?
I took five grand off one of Tran's gang that afternoon. So did
Brian. A strangely proud moment, watching him race my ten second
car away from the line, watching him leave the other guy choking on his
dust.
After that, everything went straight to hell. My life was blown
apart and all I could think of right then was the open road and
listening for the sound of a chopper on our tail. That and the
man driving the car I’d stashed at Max’s a couple of months back.
Brian Spilner – O’Connor – or whatever his fuckin’ name was. What
was freakin’ me out then was that hearing him say he was a cop, out in
the desert, was worse than holdin’ Jesse’s dead body in my arms.
All I could think was that he’d betrayed me, betrayed everythin’.
I’d taken him into my family and he’d fucked us over. Except that
he hadn’t. He didn’t.
Vince… couldn’t be helped. He’d have died out there if Brian
hadn’t risked his neck and my rage to get him airlifted out. He’s
goin’ to jail but hopefully he’ll make things easy on himself by
singing like a bird once he’s sure we’re clear. Letty and Leon
headed to the border same as we did. We’ve agreed to stay apart
for now, until we’re sure we’re clear. Besides, I’m more than
happy with the company I’m keeping.
That left Mia. The longer we drove for the more desperate I got
to call her, just to let her know we were okay. I didn’t know
then if she’d care about Brian or not but I knew she’d be worried sick
about me. I left her with Jesse’s body…. I knew she’d knew
what to do.
I could have blamed Brian for bringing this down on us but it’d have
been a lie. No point in deceiving myself. I’d brought this
down on us. We’d all known sooner or later the truckers were
gonna arm themselves and start fightin’ back.
Ironically, Brian had stood between us and the cops. If it hadn’t
been for him we’d all be coolin’ our asses in cells right about now,
not warmin’ ‘em in Mexico. Or maybe not…. I meant what I
told him – I’d die before I’d go back.
It’s not easy to admit it but if Brian wasn’t the person he was we’d
all be in jail. Instead he’s here with me and we’re sharin’ that
dream of a beach in Mexico. Odd the way that’s turned out.
I’d always thought it would be Letty with me.
Scares the shit outta me to think that I’m glad it’s Brian.
Once we reached Ensenada I opened my eyes and told him, “Pull in at the
next diner. Hungry. And I need to call Mia.”
We hadn’t eaten since the chow out in the desert – Max offered
sandwiches but we were too strung out to swallow anything more than
black coffee.
Crossing the border had been too easy. Even with a couple of
false passports – one of which was supposed to be Leon’s… I’d at least
expected the Feds to have an APB out on us. I know it had worried
Brian for a few miles.
In the diner Brian ordered more black coffee, I had to order food for
us both. He scowled at me, told me he wasn’t hungry.
“Eat it, Brian, or I’ll shove it down your throat myself.” Not
the first time I’d wished my threats sounded more convincing when they
were aimed at blondie.
Not that it was needed. When the burgers and fries were put in
front of us he tucked in like a starving man.
“Why were you doin’ it?” I asked him, watching him eat with faint
amusement.
He glanced at me, finishing his mouthful. “Doin’ what?”
“Comin’ after me. What was it? Promotion?” I couldn’t
help but add, “Respect?” with a smirk.
His sideways glance was at the very least amused. But it was a
while before he answered. “My Detective’s badge. After we’d
shaken down Tran….”
“You were in on that?” I couldn’t believe it. Tran’s gang
was fuckin’ dangerous and my Brian…. When the hell did he become
my Brian?
“Yeah, man.” He tossed a grin my way. “All black Kevlar and
Browning Automatics.” Shaking my head I had to shift on the
sticky plastic seat. It was like he knew he was turnin’ me
on. Sneaky little fuck. “Tran was clean. I knew it
was you, so did Tanner. He thought it was Mia blindin’ me to what
you were doin’. I told him, you wouldn’t go back to jail. I
think he knew then. He told me you’d have to choose. And so
would I.”
I know the choice Brian made. Me over that detective badge he’d
wanted for however long. Truth is, I was touched by that.
I made the call home from the payphone outside.
“Hello.” It was a relief to hear Mia’s voice, to at least know
she was okay.
“It’s me.”
“It’s not a good time now.” I knew the cops were there just by
her tone. Brian had said they would be, waiting for me just in
case I was stupid enough to return home.
“Brian’s with me. We’re both fine.” She might want to hear
that, Brian had mentioned with a wan smile - the cops had probably told
her we were both missing, that in all likelihood I had the body of a
certain blond undercover cop stowed in the trunk of his own car.
It had amused me to think that the cops thought that, even for a
second. “We’re heading south. I’ll call again soon.”
End of phone call.
Not only was the car ready to roll at Max’s but I had somewhere to go
too. Not all the cash from the hijacks had been spent on parts
for the cars. There was a house in Baja, bought outright under a
false name.
That’s where we were headed. And when we hit the road again, I
told him to get some sleep. He must’ve been wiped cos within
minutes of us leavin’ the diner his breathin’ changed, became a soft
snore.
I couldn’t help look at him with some kinda awe. He’d given up
everythin’. He was running from his own friends, his own
colleagues. If he was caught – aidin’ and abettin’ – if he went
to prison, his ass would belong to every fucker in the joint.
There must’ve been about a million cops looking for us and he was
sleepin’ like a baby. Like he was absolutely certain he’d made
the right choice and he was willin’ to take whatever came after.
I still wanted to tear his pretty head off at that point for lyin’ to
me – to us all. But I knew I wouldn’t and so did he. He was
safe – he is safe - and somehow even then he knew it.
Of course he’s safe. That smile, that cocksure attitude, saw to
that three weeks ago. ‘Dude, I almost had you.’ It’d been a
long time since anyone had spoken to me with quite that much
self-assurance. If I ever ask him he’d say I drew him to
me. Mia always tells people that. It’s not true. I
was drawn to him. Not so much the pretty blond sitting in the
store munching on tuna sandwiches (no crust) and pluckin’ up the
courage to ask my sister out. But the street racer – the guy he
was when he wasn’t around Mia.
The guy he was that night when he rescued my ass. Planned, I
realised as I thought later, hard, about clues I should have picked up
on. They let him go – they let us go – to get him in, get him
close to me. How did he put it? In my good graces.
But they couldn’t have known Tran would put in an appearance and blow
the car straight to hell. They couldn’t have known we’d walk and
talk for miles until we flagged down a cab. And then back home he
just threw in a careless ‘take care’ and started off to…
wherever. Back to ‘The Racers Edge’ I guess.
It was me who invited him inside.
They put him next to me but I kept him close.
The next day when he turned up with that wreck of a Supra at the
garage, that shit-eatin’ grin on his face, blue eyes sparklin’ like the
ocean - just listen to me! – it was Brian who owned me, not the other
way around. Not that I was ever goin’ to tell Mia that.
She’d have fried my balls in garlic and fed them to me. Besides,
I have a reputation to keep up.
Or I had.
Not that it ever had any impact on Brian. He’s the only guy who’s
never seemed afraid of me. Not ever.
Not even when we caught him sniffing around Hector’s. Should have
known then, that horseshit excuse he fed us. But I didn’t want to
believe my new-found goldenboy was a cop.
And not when he ID’d himself as a narc right in front of me.
I wanted to kill him then. But Vince’s life depended on him, and
afterwards – standing in the driveway aiming at one another, shotgun
against handgun – I’d lost the fire I needed to wrap my hands around
his throat or pump a slug into his chest. How could I?
I couldn’t ever hurt him. I couldn’t even smack him one.
It was my fault although I’ll deny it until the day I die. Some
part of me must’ve known about him, what he was. Out at the beach
that morning in the Supra, him telling me he wanted in on whatever I
was in on. The trucks. Every instinct I had should have
been screamin’ ‘COP!!!’ but all I could think was that I wanted to
bring him in on it. I wanted him there at my side, wanted to draw
him closer, keep him with me. I wasn’t thinking straight then and
I sure ain’t now.
It’s that disarming smile of his. It still throws me
sometimes. He looks like an angel and drives like the
devil. And God help me, I’ve never felt this way about anyone
before.
(Brian’s POV)
For an adrenaline junkie, Dom can be as lazy as they come.
For me it’s great. I can sit here while he’s working on his tan,
lookin’ my fill.
We’re waiting for the parts to turn up for the cars sitting in the
small garage attached to this place. We’re waiting for Leon to
make contact. We’re waiting for a couple of favours Dom’s called
in to pay up.
We’re waiting. That’s the reason – one of two reasons – he’s
happy to sit still for a couple of hours.
We’re safe, relatively speaking. There’s a legit circuit down
here and I think Dom’s interested. I know I am. But at the
moment it’s not racing that’s occupying either of us.
It’s fucking.
The other reason we’re happy to sit and chill this afternoon is that
we’re both too exhausted and too sore to do anythin’ else.
What actually started as a fight in the garage almost became something
approximating rape; neither of us realising the other was so aroused we
were both ready to shoot in our shorts.
We were supposed to working out some of the crap between us – fighting
it out. So many lies, so much betrayal. We might trust one
another on some level but there are a lot of levels we don’t. One
or two less now for sure.
Next thing I know he’s got us up against the fender of the Mustang, his
groin pressing into mine and we both froze. His fist that I think
was meant for my face uncurled around my crotch and in the next few
insane minutes we were up on the hood of the car, scrabbling to connect
dick to dick.
It was frenzied, no grace, no style. Absolutely no
tenderness. We came in seconds, all over pawing fingers,
breathing like oxygen-starved madmen, staring at one another like we’d
just become total strangers.
As if things weren’t complicated enough. And for a couple of
heartbeats I thought we’d fucked things up so much it would be
impossible to untangle the web we’d made.
Then Dom smiled. As simple as that. And he said, ‘That was
a long time comin’, Bri. Don’t sweat it.’
I wasn’t sure after that. But Dom seemed to be. He moved
into my personal space and stayed there, leaning against my back in the
kitchen, a casual arm around my shoulders in the garage, a hand on my
ass on the stairs.
We messed about, nothin’ serious, nothin’ heavy. Until a couple
of days ago when he went out with the Mustang and came back with a
Mazda RX-7. Typical. I had to smile, had to laugh.
And then, apparently, he had to fuck me on the hood. And suddenly
he was all tender kisses, sweet caresses and more consideration than
I’d give to a couple of heavy, ready to blow NOS canisters.
God forbid he should leave marks on the angel’s perfect skin.
Yeah, I know how he thinks of me. Had to bite his shoulder just
to get him to exert some pressure in some important places.
It took a whole can of engine oil just to get him up against my
ass. But once he was inside, once he was buried balls-deep and I
could feel him hard and hot inside me, tearing me apart in the best way
possible, he lost the iron control and started to move. Clutching
my T-shirt with one hand, his other curled in my hair almost
obsessively, he bit the back of my neck and nibbled on my ear as he
pounded into me, crushing me against the cold metal of the car’s hood,
my face up against the windshield.
I was more aroused than I’d ever been in my entire life. I kept
making these little noises and as embarrassed as I was about them he
lapped them up.
He came inside me and I came, my dick jacked off by the slide of warm
metal and my own sweat-slick skin.
And as he lay on my back panting for breath he whispered he loved me.
I have no idea how or why. But after that I kinda knew. I
just wasn’t sure about my own feelings. I’m still not.
(Dom’s POV)
These last couple of weeks life’s fucked with my mind. Catching
Brian’s grin as he rolls out from under the Mazda makes me realise how
lucky I’ve been.
Lucky he was the cop the Feds chose to send after us. Lucky he’s
a resilient kid who doesn’t waste effort thinkin’ about how things
might have turned out if he’d made a different choice.
Lucky because believe it or not, they couldn’t pin the hijackings on
Vince. No evidence. He kept his mouth shut and I didn’t
know it but Brian had told the medics in the chopper that Vince had
been attacked by a hitchhiker he’d picked up. Brian had just been
passin’ by.
The truck driver could only swear to three black cars - two of which
the cops discovered the wrecks of but they weren’t registered to anyone
and there were no prints – and an orange one, which had vanished off
the face of the earth. He wasn’t goin’ to admit to carrying a
shot gun in his cab and firin’ it with intent to kill so they couldn’t
get Vince on the gunshot wound either.
I’d have paid to see the look on their faces when Vince had walked free.
In no immediate danger, Vince let us know he was gonna stay in
California until the heat was off and then come down to join us.
Not sure what he’s gonna make of me and Brian, what any of them are
gonna make of us. I don’t care. They’ll deal or they’ll
leave.
For as long as I can remember they’ve looked at me and seen a big
brother, a fellow racer, someone to lead so they can follow.
Brian looks at me like I’m lunch. I love the way he looks at me.
I’m keepin’ him. End of story.
fin
Instant Feedback! (No Flames Please)
And include your email if you want a reply!
Remember, you need to type something!