Pyro groaned. “Really? You had to fight an animal, but you’re worried about its life story?” he asked with annoyance before rubbing his sweaty forehead.
Drake and Tank looked at him, their eyes betraying guilt, but Boar knew they couldn’t have done anything to stop Pyro from getting his hands on the drugs that helped him forget. It had been his modus operandi in difficult times since Boar had first met him, and the truth was that Boar was only ever able to make Pyro stop because Pyro wanted to do better for Boar’s sake.
Things would surely change now that he was back.
“It doesn’t matter anymore.”
The food was heaven on Boar’s tongue, and he had a pretty, naked Clover in his lap. That was all that mattered. Work on Pyro had started last night with a serious conversation, and they’d need to take it one day at a time from now on.
Clover kissed Boar’s temple, making him melt. Gentle touches were one of the things he’d missed most. Living around savages had hardened him in ways he hated. How was he to adjust to being back in the safety of his family?
“We investigated the stupidest leads to find you,” Clover said.
“And now you’re finally here,” Tank added from above an untouched egg white omelette. “We will take as much time as you need, Boar. I know it must be tough to go back to—”
“He’s fine. Look at him,” Pyro snapped, ready to protect Boar’s honor like a sicced dog.
Boar met Clover’s gaze. “I just need to get into my new-old routine. That’s all.”
Clover stroked the short hair on Boar’s head. “There’s no routine. We’ll have to establish a new one. We live out of trailers now.”
Boar frowned. “Then let’s go back home and recuperate. I bet you guys are sick of all the travelling.” Which was his fault.
The silence at the table was weird. Even Tank looked out of the window.
Pyro shot up, almost knocking his coffee over. “Yes, I burned down the house, okay?! I said I’ll pay back!”
Heat flushed Boar’s face, and he leaned back, feeling as if he’d just entered the Twilight Zone. “You did what?”
Tank exhaled, his jaw muscles twitching as he met Boar’s gaze. “He burned it down. We barely carried Drake out of there before the fire could have cut him off.”
Drake’s face remained expressionless, but shame and anger were like arrows piercing Boar’s chest.
“How could you?” he asked Pyro. “It was our home!”
“I wasn’t thinking straight!” Pyro did sit though, hissing when several blueberries rolled off his pancakes and into Clover’s lap.
Boar had to take a deep breath to calm himself.
“It’s been a… tough time for Pyro,” Clover said, picking the fruit from between his thighs.
Boar swallowed hard. “So… all my clothes, my computer, all my things are gone?”
While in captivity, he’d dreamt of their home many times. He imagined returning to sleep in his bed, cook in the familiar kitchen, have the comfort of being in the place he belonged. Finding out it would never happen came as such a shock all his appetite dulled, and he waved off the next pastry.
Pyro gritted his teeth and ate in silence, so Tank answered for him.
“I’m afraid so. We salvaged what we could and put that in a storage unit, but we’ll be starting from scratch.”
“I’m sorry,” Clover said and kissed Boar again, despite it not being his fault.
“I get it. Saving Drake was more important. Can I… make it right somehow, Tank?” Boar asked, hiding behind his cup even though disappointment gnawed at the inside of his chest.
Tank blinked and raised his hand. “You had nothing to do with it. I’ll think of something, but any cash you have stashed away would be handy now.”
“You’ve been very quiet,” Pyro said in an attempt to change the topic. His gaze was pinned to Drake as if it had been him, not Pyro who’d burned down their home.
Drake shifted, his gaze briefly meeting Clover’s, and the boy nodded as if they were having a silent conversation. Boar rubbed his hand up and down Clover’s back, unable to comprehend how much his life had shifted within twenty-four hours. Many times he’d thought he’d never kiss Pyro, never touch Clover again. Maybe he really shouldn’t have made a fuss about the house? At the end of the day, it had been Tank’s not his, and everyone seemed to have gotten over it already.
“What is it?” he asked Drake with a bad feeling in his stomach. “Shit isn’t over, is it?”
Pyro frowned and squeezed his knee. “What are you talking about? Of course it’s over. You should just enjoy yourself now. We could go to the Bahamas, or something,” he said with hope radiating from his eyes. But Drake’s gaze was stern when he exhaled.
“There’s the issue of Apollo.”
Pyro’s nostrils flared, and he bristled like a frightened dog. “Seriously? Your need for revenge got us into this mess in the first place!”