Clover put his hand on Pyro’s bulging bicep, but it was Tank who spoke. “No. Apollo targeted us because we killed his sister. And we killed her to save Clover. We can’t leave this thread dangling.”
“You’ve got to be shitting me!” Pyro smacked the table so hard the plates jingled, and Boar squeezed his shoulder in a bid to calm him down.
“Let them finish.”
Pyro’s gaze was colored by helplessness when he looked back, his lips twitching with unsaid words. He might not have been captured but had been Apollo’s victim nevertheless.
Drake exhaled. “I think so too. But no risks. It needs to be clean. I don’t care how he dies as long as he stops being a threat to us.”
Clover’s face turned serious. “I think the same. It’s not about revenge, no matter how much I hate him. If he has a heart attack and dies, fine. I just want us to get on with our lives. Boar, I wish I could treat you to a comfortable bed every night. I wish you could take all the time you need to recover and rest, but it is what it is.”
Boar nodded, squeezing Pyro’s arm more tightly when he felt it stiffen. “We’ve been through hell. And until that bastard’s gone, the brands on our bodies will mean something. I say let’s do it. Can’t put on a brave face ‘till the end of my days.”
Drake pulled out a white cell phone and put it on the table. “It’s the main guy’s from yesterday.”
“Tyrone’s?” Boar asked, his gaze drawn to the device as if it were a lure.
“Yes, the one you strangled.”
Boar sneered at the memory of the man who’d treated him worse than a dog. It had been a relief to feel him die, but if Tyrone could help them deliver the same fate to Apollo, maybe at least his useless life would be good for something.
Drake chewed on his lip. “It’s a lot to look through, but I believe we might find good leads in there. I… hated losing you, Boar.”
Boar smiled, hugging Clover with one arm and Pyro with the other. In an odd way, the prospect of bringing down the bastard who’d pushed him into the hell he’d lived in those past months was putting him at ease. There was an enemy to tackle. He knew how to do that.
“I know. I hold no grudges. Let’s kill this sonofabitch.”
Tank smiled at Boar from the opposite side of the table. “Drake, Clo, and I will look at the phone, and we’ll go get some supplies. Both you and Pyro need to rest before we leave. Unless we stumble upon something that needs immediate attention, let’s give it a few days.”
When no one protested, they somehow managed to move on to talking about things other than death, torture, and blood. They discussed the food, the living arrangements in the trailers, and the beach Clover had read about on the internet.
Boar could truly breathe for the first time in months, and once the atmosphere relaxed, he let himself enjoy the moment, eat delicious food straight out of Clover’s hand, and discuss silly things. He hadn’t had an opportunity like this for a long time. To these people he wasn’t a fighting machine but his old self.
By the time the room service staff had taken away the plates, Tank, Clover, and Drake were dressed and ready to leave, which left Boar with an odd sense that he lacked purpose. Most of his days had been about constant training, because Tyrone earned big bucks on his victories, but now? He knew he should rest, but how could he when Apollo still lived and could strike at any moment?
“You okay?” Pyro asked, hugging Boar from behind when they ended up alone.
Boar exhaled and slowly turned around, resting his chin on top of Pyro’s head, on the cushion of hair in the center. He didn’t want to bash Pyro for losing his mind and burning the house down. He didn’t want to give a speech about his cocaine habit. He’d made peace with who his man was long ago, and being with him brought comfort no matter how much of a mess Pyro was. Boar liked fixing.
“I will be once we’re safe.”
“I’m so sorry I didn’t find you sooner,” Pyro’s voice trembled, and he squeezed the back of Boar’s robe. He must have held in all those softer emotions during breakfast, because he was falling apart fast.
Boar swallowed and pressed his forehead against Pyro’s. His boyfriend didn’t usually allow himself vulnerability, much less so with others around, but Boar had seen him at his absolute worst and hadn’t ran away. “It’s not your fault.”
“I know, but I don’t really want to accept it. I thought you were dead. I went out fighting, I drank, I took drugs when I could have spent all that time looking for you. I’m a bad person.”