Other men and women whispered as he passed, but none were as openly hostile as the old lady or as persistent as the gunman, whose eyes Devin felt on the back of his neck.
Midway through the town, the mother and daughter took a sharp left and walked past all the rows of houses. Out alone in a field sat a real house, one that had windows and had been made with machines. Its blue exterior had been dulled by a coat of red dirt, but the windows were clean and two birds, chickens maybe, milled about in the front yard.
The mother gestured to the house.
Joe fiddled with a backpack beside Marcus’s shoulder and withdrew two Insta-food bars. He handed them to the woman. “Gracias.”
The woman’s shy smile made Devin swallow his objection to Joe giving away their precious food. “De nada,” she whispered before walking away.
Her daughter peeked over her shoulder and waved at Joe, who grimaced and waved back. Devin chuckled until Flix pressed forward and grabbed Joe’s elbow. He threw his shoulder behind Joe’s and prodded him toward the house.
“Go. My brother’s dying. Move.”
Joe nodded and approached the door. If Devin didn’t know him better, he’d say Joe was nervous. Despite Flix’s pressure, Joe’s steps were slower than usual, and his shoulders bunched toward his head.
“Peter, go help Flix with the other rope.” Devin wanted to get Marcus as close to Joe as he could. If the doctor, Joe’s friend, whatever, could see that they had an emergency, maybe they’d be more likely to help. Call him jaded, but Devin wasn’t sure he’d trust some former Flights of Fantasy coworker to do the right thing.
Joe crossed over the flat concrete porch and stood in front of the door. He inhaled sharply and knocked.
The door opened, and a woman with the reddest hair Devin had ever seen poked her head out. For a beat, no one moved. The woman stared at Joe, and Devin held his breath.
Joe’s hand twitched at his side.
Was this Joe’s friend? Her eyes roamed his face, and she stepped fully outside the door. Her lips trembled, and her chest rose and fell in shallow breaths.
“Hi, Lil,” Joe said.
The edge of the woman’s lush mouth tilted up, then she flashed a huge grin that showed off the cosmetically enhanced, brilliant white teeth all Flights of Fantasy runners had. She let out a puff of breath and threw her arms around Joe. The force of the hug pushed him back a step, but the woman kept them balanced. He wrapped his arms around her back, but she was already breaking the embrace. She cupped Joe’s face. “You’re really here. I never thought you’d actually show up.”
The woman, Lil, shook her head and covered Joe’s face in kisses. When she kissed his mouth, her lips pressing and staying, Devin hated the way his groin responded. He checked on the gunman, who was edging away, fading into the town.
“We have a wounded friend,” Joe said. “I need —”
A stunning teenage girl barged out of the house. Her long, wild, dark brown hair curled around her shoulders, and she wore huge, thick glasses that magnified deep brown eyes. She glared at Lil and peeked around her shoulder at Joe. “I hear a weasel.”
Even from the awkward angle, Devin saw Joe’s grin. Joe spread his arms. “Mole!”
The girl all but tackled Joe, hurling herself into his arms and shoving him back against one of the posts supporting the porch roof.
Joe kissed her crazy hair. “You got tall.”
The girl smirked up at him. “You stayed short.”
“God damn it, Joe.” Flix pushed past Joe and addressed Lil. “Doctor, my brother’s dying. Please, help him.”
Lil’s smile dropped. She opened the door wide. “Bring him in.”
The kayak fit, just barely, and Devin found himself in a tidy living room with gray walls and two faded red couches. The uncovered windows let in plenty of light even though the sun was on its way down. A real kitchen with wood cabinets and a long wooden table lay beyond the living room.
Joe gestured to Marcus. “He’s got an infection and serious —”
“We’ll need to get him...”
Whatever Lil was saying faded to background noise as a man emerged from the darkness beyond the kitchen and stopped at the entrance to the living room. He was taller than Devin and thinner than Joe. He walked with a cane and wasn’t particularly handsome. But power oozed from him. Strong hands. Intelligent hazel eyes. Long, long legs.
Devin was eighteen years old and hadn’t fucked Joe in days. This man turned him on.
The man studied Joe before his attention ghosted over Flix and Peter, the boat holding Marcus, and Devin.
Devin stood up straighter and sucked in a breath.
The man’s eyes went back to Joe. He crossed his arms over his narrow chest and said, “You shouldn’t have come, nuevecito.”
SEVEN
Joe straightened his shoulders and summoned all his confidence. He’d known this reunion wouldn’t be perfectly smooth. “I need you, Navarro.”
Navarro swatted the air with his hand. “You never needed anyone but yourself.” His eyes flitted once more around the room behind Joe. “You brought along a whole traveling freak show? We don’t need that kind of trouble.”
“My friend’s hurt. Compound fracture. Infection.”
That got Navarro’s attention. His cane thumping the floor, he pushed his way past Joe to Marcus. “Where’s the fracture?”
“Heel. But also one of his lower leg bones and his right arm.”
Navarro grunted and nodded at Devin. “Muscles, be real careful and pick him up under his shoulders and thighs. Let his lower legs dangle. Follow me.”
Excellent. With Navarro at work, Marcus at least stood a fighting chance.
Devin hesitated, glancing at Joe, before scooping Marcus out of the boat. Marcus whimpered but didn’t struggle, and Devin trailed after Navarro, disappearing into a back room.
Flix tried to follow, but Lil blocked his path. She laid a hand on his arm and smiled. “Your brother’s in good hands. Navarro knows what he’s doing. What’s your name, sweetie?”
“Flix. I need to be with
