Page 25 of King of Lies (Mayhem Manuscripts Season One: 1nf3ction #6)

Keaton

The decision to go back for August and put my life, my future plans, everything, at risk hadn’t come easily.

I’d wrestled with it all the way through the forest, across the courtyard, and back to the door I’d escaped from.

I’d kept tussling with it as I searched room after room for my crossbow—or failing that, something better than the thick branch I’d found in the forest.

A room full of biters came early in my search, one thankfully hurling itself against the door before I opened it and all hell let loose. It made sense that Oz would have a stash of test subjects. I resolved to be more careful from this point on.

A kitchen lay across the hall stocked with food: old tins, and vegetables Oz must grow. The remnants of the soup he’d fed us still sat in a large pan on a camping stove attached to a gas cylinder.

On the second floor, I found where Oz slept.

The single bed was the only clear space in a room otherwise drowning in clutter.

I’d assumed it was all junk until I found the crossbow and August’s axe among the piles.

The realization had sunk in at that point that I was looking at possessions stripped from other prisoners.

And then I found the lab.

I’d known the moment I walked in on August in that impossible predicament, with Oz clearly having lost it, that I’d made the right choice in coming back.

And now, with Oz lying dead at my feet, I turned my attention to August. He was so pale he almost blended in with the floor.

And trembling. Any anger I still carried toward him dissolved in an instant.

I’d experienced some things in the army, but no one had ever tried to cut my tongue out.

I went to him and held out my hand. “Let me help you up.”

I half expected him to brush me off, to insist he could do it himself. He didn’t. He took my hand and let me pull him to his feet. Evidence, if any were needed, of how wretched he felt.

Before I could think better of it, I pulled him into my arms, our slight difference in heights meaning his head came to rest on my shoulder. He smelled of sweat. And fear. And I didn’t give a damn.

“What are you doing?” His voice was muffled against the fireman’s jacket I still wore, something about that making me smile.

“This is a hug.”

“I know it’s a hug.”

“Then don’t ask silly questions. If ever there was someone who looked like they needed a hug, then it’s you.”

“I don’t need—”

I tightened my grip. “Yeah, you do.”

His body relaxed against mine. “He was going to cut out my tongue. He thought that was the solution to stopping my lies.”

I fought against what I wanted to say and lost the battle. “I mean… he had a point.”

A short, surprised laugh escaped him. “Don’t feel guilty about killing him.”

“I don’t.”

August eased himself back out of my arms, pointing to the wall. “That’s his science. That’s what he would have done to you.”

I only needed to look at a few photos before wrenching my gaze away. “Sick bastard!”

“Yeah.”

I cleared my throat, curiosity making me point out the elephant in the room. “Am I allowed to ask what happened to your shirt?”

August’s glance downward suggested that in all the drama he’d forgotten being half naked. I hadn’t. I had done nothing but notice with him pressed against me. My hands had been on bare skin. Warm, taut, bare skin.

“I lost it while I was unconscious.”

I grimaced at the implication.

August rattled his chain to remind me he was still shackled to the pipe.

The same key I’d used to unlock my manacle earlier, unlocked his.

Once free, he crossed the room and stood over Oz’s corpse, his expression giving nothing away.

I left him to it, letting him have his moment.

Eventually he hawked up some phlegm and let fly. It landed on Oz’s chest.

Then he turned sharp and accusing eyes on me. “You’re supposed to be miles from here. You’re not meant to have given me a second thought. I told you to go.”

I shrugged. “Yeah, well… Some of us have a conscience.”

He had no answer to that, his gaze sweeping the lab instead. “What are we going to do about this place?” He jerked his head toward the dog cage. “About him?”

I filled August in on everything I’d discovered during my escape—the cameras, the bike, and what might be parts for it, the food, the stolen possessions, and the room full of biters.

We had a plan by the end: take anything useful, burn the rest, and stop at the nearest community to inform them of the traps before someone found themselves in one with no one coming to get them.

Although it was difficult to argue with August’s logic that dying of thirst in one would be infinitely preferable to whatever Oz would have done to them.

While splitting up would have made more sense, we searched the rest of the building together, neither of us suggesting going it alone.

First stop was Oz’s bedroom, my inspection there having been perfunctory at best. We recovered August’s chain from under Oz’s pillow, his expression giving away how he felt about that.

I found my ring too, thankfully not in the same place.

It seemed Oz’d had his favorite even before his discovery of August’s immune status. My knife was in a drawer.

The third and final floor was empty, thick dust telling a tale of its lack of use. I guessed a lone man could only use so many rooms. Search concluded, we loaded up on food before I showed him where Oz had stashed his bike.

There were indeed parts, August immediately setting to work while I hovered uselessly in the background, relegated to the role of observer.

He’d found his shirt and jacket in the lab, putting the shirt on but not bothering to fasten the buttons.

As a result, I got a glimpse of taut abdominals when he turned a certain way.

“There’s a road,” I offered when the silence had gone on for too long and I was in danger of losing myself in mostly x-rated thoughts. “About half a mile away.”

August’s brow furrowed. A smear of oil streaked his cheek, and my fingers itched to wipe it away. “Wait… You left and then you came back again?”

“Yeah.”

He shook his head in disbelief. “You’re a strange man, Keaton Levine. One minute you hate me, and the next…” He turned back to the bike without finishing his sentence, doing something to it that looked incredibly technical to my unskilled eyes.

“You said you’d help me.” The silence that followed my statement was deafening. I mentally prepared myself for August asking me when I was going to stop being gullible enough to fall for his lies.

“And I will help you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He laughed in a way that said no one was more surprised than he was.

“Well, there you go then. You have a bike. Once you’ve fixed it…”

“If I can fix it.”

I corrected myself. “If you can fix it, it’ll get us to Dover much quicker. Walking would take weeks. On this…?”

“A few days,” August provided. “A week, maybe depending on the route. Traveling through London would be quicker, but if you believe all the stories, it’s not a decision to be taken lightly. Danger lurks around every corner―that sort of thing. We’ll talk it through.”

“And you’ve got all the safe houses mapped,” I pointed out. “I found the map.”

“I do.”

“And you saved me when you didn’t have to.”

August tilted his head to one side. “I guess that makes us even.”

“So… partners?” I offered. “No more lies. You help me, and I’ll…”

August straightened, wiping his hands on what used to be an item of Oz’s clothing, and was now an oily rag. “You’ll what?”

“Once the bastard is dead, I’ll give you the ring.”

August shook his head. “I don’t want the ring. It stopped being just gold when I found out what it meant to you. I know what that’s like.” His hand went to the chain at his neck, fingers brushing the horseshoe pendant.

“I have nothing else to give you!”

“No?” Apparently, something about that was funny, a smirk appearing on August’s lips.

“No.”

“Think harder.”

I frowned. “I don’t…”

He closed the space between us, grabbing a fistful of T-shirt and yanking me against him.

The kiss was like him. Intense. Uncompromising. Unapologetic. The best I’d ever had. His thigh pressed between mine, and I ground my cock against it, our mouths learning, taking.

When we broke apart, I was breathless. “Well, there’s that.”

I knew he wasn’t suggesting a transaction, that this was August finally admitting to the attraction that had simmered between us since the moment we’d met.

Even while trying to one-up each other in August’s room, it had been there.

It was how he’d known he could distract me so easily in the fire station by dancing provocatively.

Still reeling, I blurted, “How’s your tongue?”

August’s lips twitched. “You tell me. You just carried out a thorough examination of it.”

I refused to blush like a teenage girl. “It felt alright to me.”

The twitch became a grin, but only briefly. “Well, there you go, then.” August cupped my cheek, his expression suddenly serious. “I’m only going to say this once, so listen up.”

“I’m listening.” I was drowning in his eyes, but I was also listening.

“Thank you for coming back for me, and thank you for not being sixty seconds later. I like my tongue, and I can’t imagine a life without it. Especially not one chained to a wall while some pervert plays scientist.”

“I like your tongue, too.”

He laughed, patted my cheek, and stepped back. “Cross your fingers.”

“What?”

“I’m going to try starting the bike. Fingers crossed it works.”

I held my crossed fingers up, still trying to get my cock to lend some blood to my brain. “What if it doesn’t?”

“Then we’re walking to Dover, and leaving most of the stuff we collected behind.” August swung his leg over the bike and sat. He turned the key, checked something on the dash, and then retracted the kickstand with his foot. His finger hovered over a button. “The moment of truth.”

I held my breath, only letting it out when the engine roared to life. “You’re a genius.”

He smiled. “No, I’m a dirty liar. But I have my moments.” He killed the engine and leaned the bike back on its stand. “Now let’s burn this place to the ground.”

“We should probably kill the biters first, so they don’t get loose.”

August pulled a face before offering a reluctant nod. “You’re right. Let’s kill some biters, burn the place, and then get the fuck out of here.”