Who Knows the Dark (9 page)

Cade shrugged. “To the surprise of even myself, I am extremely competent in emergencies.”

“I’m not really surprised,” Nox said softly, and Cade felt a sizzle over his skin at the words, the affectionate tone of Nox’s voice. A walking trouble magnet with a planeload of baggage, and of course Cade’s butterflies seemed to respond to only him.

“My stubbornness comes in handy—go ahead, admit it.” Cade tried to play it off, fluttering his eyelashes.

“You’re good to have around.” Nox touched him then, like he had back in the stateroom. Just his fingertips against Cade’s body—his chest this time, somewhere in the vicinity of his heart. “Never going to be able to thank you.”

They’d fucked more than once, but the quiet intimacy of this moment stripped Cade bare. He pushed off the truck and into Nox’s arms, crushing their mouths together before Nox had time to react.

Cade kissed him soft and sweet and slow, tasting him with a darting tongue. Not too deep, nothing to escalate—just a moment in the middle of the craziness to say
yeah, I don’t get it either
.

“Yeah, I don’t get it either,” Cade said as he drew their mouths apart. He licked at the taste of them mingled together and laughed when Nox grunted. “Maybe I’ll let you fuck me in my childhood bedroom,” he murmured as Nox ran his hands down Cade’s back.

“Ugh” came a voice from inside the cab.

Sam was awake.

O
NCE
C
ADE
had secured Nox in the back of the truck—and given Sam proper time to be emotionally scarred in private—he got back in and restarted the beast. He and Sam politely ignored each other until the darkness of backcountry roads gave way to a mecca of strip malls and traffic lights.

“Whoa,” Sam said, sitting up straighter. “It’s like a city.”

“Not quite yet.” Cade shifted gears, the vibrations of the truck rattling his teeth. “But they’re doing their best to grow one in the middle of nowhere.”

The little town of Gaiterville had become a hub of commerce, chain stores, and McMansions over time, with every spare corner of land being developed as fast as someone could snatch it up. Coming Soon! signs were everywhere, and after passing four strip malls and mega shopping complexes, they soon came upon the skeleton of yet another, right up against the beginnings of condominiums.

“When I was real little, all I remembered was two stoplights and a grocery store,” Cade murmured. A new traffic pattern ahead, orange signs for men working, concrete barriers—coming soon, a new connection to the highway. “None of this was here, you know?”

“Mmmm.” Sam looked out the window. “I never imagined living somewhere like this. It’s got everything you need in one place!”

The stunned timbre of Sam’s voice redirected his thoughts; for Cade’s family, this was unwelcome progress. For Sam? This was a miracle of commerce and creature comforts.

“My mother is going to have fun spoiling the hell out of you,” Cade murmured, taking a breath as he eased the truck to the turning lane.

Last leg of the trip toward home.

Interlude

C
ADE
IS
nine when he realizes he is gay. His cousin Vicki comes to spend the summer from the big city (Chicago) and regales him with stories about her best friend, whose name is Tyler. She shows Cade pictures on her phone—and Cade is overwhelmed. This boy is so… so handsome, and his smile makes Cade’s face turn bright red. He thinks about Tyler before he falls asleep and when he wakes up. He imagines them being friends, hanging out together.

Kissing.

He probably had a feeling before that, but now he’s sure. The final confirmation is when Vicki confides that Tyler is gay, making her a very cool person because they are best friends forever.

Feeling bold, Cade tells Vicki that now she knows two gay boys and therefore is extra cool. Vicki squeals with delight. It’s the first time he’s come out, and it’s awesome. Vicki makes it sound like he’s just discovered superpowers.

Confident, he tells his mother. She doesn’t squeal or anything, but she does hug him and say she loves him. That’s good enough. Then she says, “Let’s wait to tell your father,” and all of Cade’s confidence quakes and shakes like the earth is moving.

So he waits.

And waits.

Loses his virginity to the sheriff’s son and goes steady with his junior high principal’s nephew. All of this is on the down-low because this is a moral, Bible-devout place, and all sin must take place in dark corners.

It’s the law.

Cade regains his confidence—his cockiness. He has superpowers all right, and the boys—especially the ones who play straight and mighty—can’t get enough.

He gets lax in that down-low part.

He gets brazen in the way he dresses and the way he gives the once-over to cute boys walking down the halls. The girls love him, protect him. The boys leave him alone, lest he reveal their secrets.

Everything is fine. Until his father finds out.

Whatever Cade had imagined, whatever he’d read in books or seen in horrible social-issue-of-the-week movies—it didn’t prepare him for his father’s reaction. No shotguns or threats, not even angry words. Just a look of disgust when he finds Cade and Louis Baker half-dressed in the barn loft.

And then it is never mentioned again.

His father’s silence is loud—it reverberates through the house every time he found something to disapprove.

“Fuck you, old man” is Cade’s only sentiment when he leaves for New York. His father doesn’t bother to respond.

T
HE
FIRE
road hadn’t changed much—Cade had fond memories of keggers and blowing half the football team back here, but he didn’t bring that up to Sam as the truck rattled the last few miles through the trees and up into the old barn sitting on the edge of the Creel Farm. The double doors were open, so Cade just maneuvered inside.

“Great job,” Sam said enthusiastically before smothering a cough in his hand.

Cade shut off the truck, and almost immediately cold began to seep in through the cracks in the window.

“All right, well. Here we are.” Cade ran his hands through his hair and didn’t bother to consult the mirror. Hot mess, with a side of home with your tail between your legs. He didn’t have to look pretty for this.

He opened the door, then jumped out, hay and dust kicking up as he landed. “Stay in the truck,” he called back to Sam. “Just hang on, okay?”

Sam gave him the thumbs-up.

After slamming the door behind him, Cade headed for the back of the truck. The doors were open, and Nox was already out, gun drawn. Mason followed, with Rachel and Damian bringing up the rear.

“Oh my God, where the hell are we?” Rachel muttered, brushing hay and dust and whatever the hell was in the back of that truck off her jeans.

“Welcome to Creel Farm, in lovely Gaiterville, South Carolina. You’ll very shortly meet my awesome mom, my endlessly disapproving father, and whatever mood my brother is in this week,”
Cade said cheerfully. “Someone needs to carry Sam through this lung-murdering muck—I’m assuming Mason will volunteer.”

“Can I go back to the place where people are trying to kill us?”

Nox turned around slowly. “You know, I can take care of that right now, Rachel.”

“Hey, Damian, stand between these two until I get back. Please.” Cade got about three steps outside the barn before footsteps alerted him to the fact that their arrival had indeed been noticed.

“Caden!” His mother flew through the dark, and Cade didn’t even hide the fact that he ran toward her. In a few steps, she was hugging him tightly—and the welcome scent of her perfume drew tears to his eyes.

Home sure as hell didn’t mean this farm, but her hug was everything he needed right now.

“Oh my God, I was so scared when those men showed up,” Amelia Creel gasped. She pulled back enough to look up into his face, scanning him alertly for any signs of distress. He knew that look—it was the entire reason he’d known where they needed to go.

“I’m so sorry they came here, Momma, but it’s okay now. We’re going to straighten it out,” he lied, even as she touched his face gently.

“You look like you haven’t slept.”

“Understatement, but we’ll fix that too,” he said, smiling. “I need to get everyone into the house, though. Is Dad around?”

Her smile faltered. “He went into town,” she said, patting his cheek. “LJ’s bringing the cart down so we can take that sick boy up. I have all the rooms ready, and dinner’s in the oven.”

It was like a slumber party; his mother could whip up hospitality in her sleep, no matter what the scenario. Fugitives from the law? He’d bet his boots there was going to be a cobbler.

“You’re the greatest mother in the world,” Cade laughed wetly, pulling her back for another hug.

A rumbling sound and headlights broke things up. Over the small rise between the house and the barn, the old golf cart rattled down to where they were standing. In the driver’s seat was Cade’s older brother, LJ.

The cart braked to a halt behind them, and then he jumped out, barely waiting for the rumbling to stop.

“Well this is a fucking mess,” LJ drawled, opening his arms at the same time.

“Yes, you are. What’s wrong with your hair?” Cade choked out before he pulled into LJ’s embrace a second later.

“I puffed it up in your honor—used some of Momma’s church spray,” LJ said, pounding his palm against Cade’s back. It was how Cade knew LJ was glad to see him. He stepped back, taking in Cade. “You okay?” he asked softly.

“Yeah.”

“Caden, can we get everyone into the house, please?” Amelia said, rubbing her hands together. “It’s cold, and I can hear that child coughing from out here.”

The reunited Creels walked as a unit back to the barn. The semicircle of misfits—complete with Mason carrying Sam—greeted them.

“Very quickly—Amelia Creel, LJ Creel, please meet Rachel, Damian, Mason, Sam, and uh—that’s Nox.”

“Pleased to meet you all. You can remind me of who you are again when we’re in the house,” Amelia said briskly, rubbing her hands together. “Young man, put your sick friend in the back of the golf cart. We’ll put the bags in there as well. Everyone else, follow me. LJ, shut the doors when they’re out.”

She turned, gesturing for Mason to follow her.

LJ rocked back on his heels; Cade looked at Nox, who was looking at LJ, who was—looking at Rachel.

“I’ll remember your name just fine,” LJ said as Rachel barely gave him a glance.

“Impressive, as I’m the only woman,” she said dryly before picking up her bag. “Someone point me in the direction of running water, please.”

She strode out of the barn, and LJ’s gaze followed her intently.

“I like your friends, Caden.”

Cade grabbed Nox by the arm and yanked him toward the house, calling a warning to LJ over one shoulder. “She’ll eat your balls for breakfast, and that isn’t a metaphor. Don’t do it.”

C
ADE
WALKED
everyone up the hill, following the taillights of the golf cart. No one talked, as the exhaustion and stress once again pulled at them. Nox huffed next to him, still limping from his brush with the nasty dock; Cade reminded himself to set Amelia and her first aid kit loose on the man once they got Sam settled.

The house hadn’t changed much at all—everything warm browns and honey colors, family heirlooms mixed with the crafts his mother filled her time with when she wasn’t hawking produce at the farmer’s market. A wooden sign over the double windows in the living room said “Don’t let yesterday take up too much of today.” It was a favorite of his mother’s—Cherokee wisdom, she’d say with a knowing nod. Between the Cherokees and Jesus, Amelia always had something to share, no matter the occasion.

“I sent the boys upstairs to get cleaned up. We’ll bring supper up to them. Frankly they barely could keep their eyes open.” Amelia’s jacket was gone, an apron tied around her waist. Cade could see a few more strands of gray streaking her shoulder-length brown hair, a few more wrinkles around her eyes. Those he blamed on his father.

“LJ, you can show everyone else where they’re stayin’. I put the young ones together in your room, and then you—Rachel, was it? You can stay with me. Caden, your room is made up, of course. And uh, the other two gentlemen, you’ll be in the guest room.”

Cade dropped his bag on the kitchen floor, seeking out Nox where he stood near the back door. “That’s okay, Mom. Nox’ll stay with me. Damian can have the guest room by himself,” he said, waiting for Nox to flinch.

He didn’t.

“Oh. Well. I’ll have LJ put the rollaway bed in there,” Amelia said primly. “Let’s get everyone washed up and settled, shall we? I have a nice stew—warm you all up.”

N
OX
FOLLOWED
Cade quietly up the stairs, bags in hand. The silent thing was starting to wear on Cade’s nerves. It made him nervous, what Nox thought of his family. He concentrated on the oval rugs on each step, remembering the creaks to avoid if you were, say, sneaking out at four in the morning to meet someone in the copse of trees near the creek.

The narrow hallway that led to Cade’s old room featured an embarrassing array of photos—terrible bowl cuts and prebrace teeth, he and LJ in matching denim rompers as toddlers. His father’s stern visage was in only a few photos; he’d grown weary of his wife’s tireless documentation of their lives and began to skip the portraits. A person would think him dead before the boys hit puberty, going by the walls of the house.