Page 75 of Hurt

They exited the warehouse, and Jackson stretched, massaging his right shoulder as they walked down the alley.

Jackson looked over at Grant. He didn’t say anything, but his face was troubled. It didn’t take a genius to know why—Grant rarely fought with so much rage and vigor. Jackson had never seen his friend quite so into violence. But it wasn’t Jackson’s personality to pry.

Grant didn’t want to explain his circumstances with Kurt, nor did he want to lie to his companion.

“Once again, I owe you my thanks,” Grant said to change the subject.

Rolling his shoulder, he didn’t look over at Grant. “I owe you for Detroit.”

“You paid me back for that long ago.”

Jackson snorted and winced as his shoulder caught. The pain and soreness a reminder that time waits for no man. “Without your help, Evan…well. I can never repay it. You will always have my allegiance, Grant.”

He smiled at his fiercely loyal friend. “I’d rather have your friendship.”

Jackson grunted, but the corners of his lips were curled in the faintest of smiles.

Behind them, the warehouse began smoking. With a kaboom, the entire block shook, and flames erupted in the cement building. The inferno licked at the sky as a cackling Jamie came running from the building. The edges of his hair were singed, and there was soot on his cheeks.

“I said set it on fire, not blow up the southern half of the city,” Grant reprimanded.

“You’re awfully picky, you know,” Jamie sniffed.

Noah stepped out of the tiny shower and toweled off his head. His back ached from carrying heavy dishes all day, and he was still nauseous from all the wet food he had to wash off the plates. Wrapping the towel around his waist, he stepped out of the shower and began rustling through his duffle bag. He didn’t bring many clothes, and washing them in the sink was getting old. He needed to go to a laundry mat at some point.

Despite the cramped conditions, the back pain, and a shower that only had thirty seconds of tolerably warm water before switching between water piped directly from hell and actual ice cubes, he was happy. His family was with him. Willow was like a breath of fresh air. No matter how much time passed, she was the same—warm and open. Even Kurt was coming around. With the exception of a couple nights ago, when he got plastered and curled up on the mattress reeking of booze, he was mostly okay.

Noah had even made friends. For the first time in his life, he had peers his age he could talk to. Ignoring the fact that they were literally trained killers, he was happy.

Elijah had been an unexpected perk of coming to The Sunspot. After his weirdness at their first meeting, he seemed to relax around Noah. It had been two weeks since he had last seen him at the bar. That day he had looked so stressed, more so than usual. There were fine lines around his expressive eyes, and he had been frowning.

Noah could still feel the heat of his lips on his hand as he kissed it. It was a stupid move. Who even does that outside of old movies?

Still. It had made him smile. Even now, standing half naked in a bedroom he shared with his aunt and uncle, he was grinning and looking down at his hand. No one had ever done anything like that to him before. People didn’t just touch him. They were either too afraid of his family name to deal with him, or they got too close to use him for personal gain.

Elijah didn’t seem to want either.

Shaking it off, he quickly got dressed in jeans and a yellow hoodie. Hair damp, he dropped down onto the mattress and opened up the text messages on his phone.

Elijah had been texting him lately. It had made not seeing him these last two weeks suck less. Noah laughed at the way he used perfect grammar. He always started the first message with, ‘Hello, this is Elijah. How are you?’

As if Noah didn’t know who was texting him.

Jamie had stolen his phone one night—he wasn’t sure when—and programmed everyone’s numbers in it. It took Noah a moment to decipher who was who. Jamie had put himself down as a ‘Ranch Dipping Sauce.’

He had put Elijah’s contact as ‘Earthshaker Babymaker.’

There was a fondness in his chest as he stared down at the contacts. Was this friendship? He had never felt it before. It was a confusing mix. Most of the time, he felt like he wanted to punch Jamie in the face, but he also smiled when he saw the idiot swaggering toward him. And Elijah had this weird way of making him feel at ease. Like just his presence was enough to calm his insecurities.

The two couldn’t be more different, but there was a similarity about them. Not their looks, because they didn’t look anything alike, but it was the way they moved around each other. Like they were so comfortable that they didn’t have to think about it. Two puzzle pieces that fit perfectly. Noah was jealous. He wanted that.

He opened up the photos app and smiled at the photo he had taken of Jamie and Elijah. Elijah hadn’t been looking at the camera, and Jamie had a straw across his upper lip, pretending to stroke it like a giant mustache on a villain in a silent movie.

Looking away from the camera, Elijah was the star of the photo. He was innocently handsome. It was a strange way to describe someone, but there was a gentleness about him that radiated even in the photo. With his soft pale green eyes and his mousy brown hair, he drew a crowd. The quintessential boy next door. But it was his unbeguiling smile that Noah liked. Noah liked honesty, and Elijah was the most honest person he knew.

His phone suddenly vibrated, and ‘Ranch Dipping Sauce’ popped up as the contact.

“Jamie?”