“Come on,” Joe said, tugging on Devin’s hand. “I’ll show you.” He led the way down a short hall and stopped at a door on the right. Through the doorway was an empty room. “Bedroom.”
Marcus and Peter crowded in. They’d taken off their shoes, and they slid in their socks along the slick, wood-like floor, Peter wincing with every step. The blisters and fire ants had knocked the shit out of him. Good that he was doing something fun. He’d started crying in his sleep a few nights ago. They all pretended like it didn’t happen.
From the bedroom, Joe showed them the bathroom, a bright, pink-tiled monstrosity with a tiny shower stall, a sink and toilet, and on a shelf — maybe God really did exist — anti-bacrobe foam wipes. Flix took one peek and shoved Joe and Devin out of the way, then slammed the door in Joe’s face.
Joe pounded on the door.
“Go away!” Flix yelled.
Marcus and Peter emerged from the bedroom and stared open-mouthed.
“I’m the leader!” Joe yelled back. He jiggled the handle, but the door was locked. He’d backed up a step and hurtled forward before Devin grabbed the back of his shirt. It ripped at the seams and rode up, but kept Joe from hitting the door. He kicked it instead. “Let me in.”
Either bravely or stupidly, Flix opened the door. He took a slow, suggestive inventory of Joe’s body. “We can share.”
Devin jerked Joe back hard enough that he hit the opposite wall. “Fuck off, Junior.”
Flix tilted his head and winked. “Have it your way.” The door closed.
“God, my brother’s gross.” Marcus shook his head, and he and Peter made their way back to the living room.
“I wanted to scour myself.” Now Joe sounded whiny. He never acted childish. Never.
Devin chuckled. “You’re plenty clean.” He dipped his head and sniffed the back of Joe’s neck. “Smells good.”
“It wasn’t my neck I was thinking about, papi.”
Anti-bacrobe wipes were great for cleaning everywhere, but mainly they were used for... “Jesus, Joe, no one cares how clean your ass is.”
“I care.”
“You vain son of a bitch.” Devin laughed and couldn’t remember the last time he’d done it. “I can’t believe I never realized what a princess you are.”
Joe crossed his arms over his chest. A vein throbbed in his temple. “Really?”
“Yep.”
“Okay then. You sleep on the couch with the kids tonight.”
Devin crossed his arms over his chest, too. He may be biased, but the results were way more intimidating when he did it. He flexed his muscles. “Sounds fine to me. I’m sick of sleeping on the floor.”
“Oh, I won’t be sleeping on the floor.”
Joe threw Devin a contemptuous glance and stalked through the only door they’d yet to go through. Devin followed, mainly to keep up the teasing. He made it two feet inside the door when his eyes and brain caught up to his big mouth. A bed. Oh, God. A real bed. Mattress. Frame. Sheets the same hideous pink as the bathroom. Joe sprawled out on top, his arms and legs thrown wide. His feet bounced, his eyes were closed, and at his waist, tight coils of muscle and pale skin lay exposed.
“Still want to sleep on the couch with the boys?” Joe asked.
Every hint of both silliness and discomfort evaporated. Devin tried to swallow and found he couldn’t. He closed the door and crawled up the bed, between Joe’s legs. He didn’t stop until he’d covered Joe’s body and they touched from nose to thigh. His abdomen protested the jut of Joe’s hipbones, but Devin couldn’t make himself ease off. He kissed Joe, softly at first, chapped lips brushing and catching, then harder, until he was gasping for breath and his fingers had tangled in Joe’s hair. He opened his eyes and found Joe watching him.
They weren’t supposed to be doing this anymore. Devin had even been the one to put it on pause. “I’m sorry.” He climbed off Joe and sat on the edge of the bed.
“Don’t apologize.” Joe rolled onto his side and rubbed Devin’s back. “You surprised me. I thought you were still mad at me.”
“I am.” Was he? Joe had kept secrets, lies of omission, but he’d done it to try to protect Devin. He hadn’t been trying to hurt anyone. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m not.” Had it only been a few days ago — a week? — that they’d found the baby, watched Victor die? Devin sought the V gouged at Joe’s elbow. It had healed to a pink scar.
“I violated your trust.” Joe’s steady gaze caught and held. His eyes were so beautiful, big and brown and honest.
Devin pinched the V, hated it and understood it. He needed to let it go, what had happened that last night in Austin. “You kept me safe. I would do anything to keep you safe, too. Blaming you makes me a hypocrite or something.”
Joe sat up and plastered himself to Devin’s back. His bent knees gripped Devin’s hips. “I meant what I said about never keeping things from you again.” He wrapped his arms around Devin’s waist and squeezed. “That day Flix and I went to the hospital?”
Dread curdled the paltry contents of Devin’s stomach. “Yeah?”
“We ran into some people. They were friendly.” Joe snorted. “Thought I was taking advantage of Flix.”
Devin huffed. “He’s probably in the bathroom right now whacking his weed, wishing you’d take advantage of him.”
Joe chuckled, and his chest rumbled against Devin’s back. “Anyway, these people had a photo of you. The paper it was printed on said that anyone who found you could cash you in for three weeks of food and water.”
Already? Godfuckingdammit. Devin let his head fall back on Joe’s shoulder. “Boggs?”
“Of course. The people said a drone dropped the flyer a day or two earlier. Thank God you didn’t go with me that day.”
“Do you think there are more flyers?”
“For you? Yes. For Peter, definitely. I don’t know about me and the twins.”
Seemed likely. The twins were young; they
