Page 121 of Shrapnel

“He killed Harvey.”

“There is no way—”

“We found a patch from his jacket in Harvey’s hand.” Noah drank more of the Gatorade. “And we found the jacket in his motel room, along with a bloody kukri, some chemical residue, and Legos.”

“He was with you the whole time, Noah.”

“Jackson told you himself that there were at least two people in on it!” Noah shouted, his head vibrating with the effort. He winced and held the cold bottle up to his temple. “You found South American money at the strip club. Jackson had just come back from South America. And that picture of Evan? C’mon.”

Elijah dropped his head back, breathing through his nose. “Grant is going to be pissed.”

Noah’s eye twitched. Grant could tear White Sand Mesa apart for all he cared. What was left of it, anyway.

“Where is he?”

Noah snorted. “You think Luther didn’t have a legit dungeon? Basement. And before you ask, he hasn’t said anything except ‘fuck you’ in three languages.”

Elijah looked over the room. His face was drawn, skin tight around his eyes and mouth. His fingers were dancing, the only indication he was agitated. They fluttered like they needed to hold something. A knife, maybe. Noah realized Elijah was angry.

“Let’s go,” Elijah finally said, his jaw jutting out. “Let’s just…leave. All of it. White Sand Mesa, Weaver Syndicate, the murders…all of it.” He turned to look at Noah, fingers tightening into a fist.

“What are you—do you mean leave leave? Everything?”

“Yes.”

“But that’s…the Weavers are your family.”

“Family is a choice,” Elijah answered, reaching out to fill his hands with Noah’s. “I chose you then, I choose you now, and I’ll choose you every time in the future. It’s only you.”

Something throbbed in Noah’s chest, and he didn’t think it was heartburn.

“You know I’d never leave you…”

“That’s not what I mean,” Elijah squeezed his hands so tight they hurt. “You’re fading, Noah. You’re not the same person you were a year ago and I hate it. This place is killing you and I’m petrified I’m going to wake up to find you too far gone.”

Could they do it? Just…leave? Was it that easy? White Sand Mesa would lose interest in him eventually. With the Weaver's resources, they could just disappear. Become two average idiots in a sea of boring people. The idea was so outlandish that Noah had a hard time wrapping his head around it. His whole life he had beenNoah Elliott,the heir.

His happiest memories were when he toiled anonymously in the Sunspot. Clothes covered in dishwater and cheeks sore from laughing at Kurt’s threats. That Noah seemed so far away. But that was the Noah who fell in love with Elijah. That Noah could enjoy things like love.

Even thinking about it made the knot in his chest ease. Maybe it was the pain killers but the gravity around him seemed to ease, and he could lift his head.

“Where would we go?” he asked hoarsely, his lips curling in the ghost of a smile. The muscles ached from disuse.

Elijah let out a breath and scooted closer to Noah, kissing him. Their lips warmed against each other, and Elijah didn’t seem to mind that he hadn’t brushed his teeth yet.

“Anywhere,” he cupped Noah’s face. “Anywhere you want, my ruin.”

Noah laughed, feeling the stubble from Elijah’s chin rub against his lips. Could he grow a beard now? That seemed like a very disappear from society thing to do. Noah thought he’d like the feel of a beard on his thighs.

“What about—” Before he could finish Elijah’s phone rang. He looked down at it, making a face.

“Who is this?” he answered harshly. Then paused. “Jamie? Whose phone is this? I can barely hear…no, I thought you were staying with Owen tonight?” Elijah stilled. “What did he find?”

Noah sat back. He should have known. He finished the bottle of Gatorade.

“All right, I’ll meet you there.”

He hung up and looked over at Noah. “Stay here, I’m going to deal with this. I’ll be back.”