Ends of the Earth

He wanted to laugh now at how ridiculous he’d been. All those times he’d leafed through Details or men’s fitness magazines, telling himself it was because he admired their physiques, because he wanted a body like that. No, he’d wanted them. He’d wanted to touch those hairy muscles and feel bristle against his face when a hard mouth took his.

The thought of their bodies together—of pulling Ben on top of him, being covered by his weight, tasting his mouth again, hearing him moan—coiled a hot spiral of desire through his belly.

Shame joined desire, fire and ice all at once, churning his stomach. He shouldn’t have been thinking of anything but finding Maggie, but he was completely out of control—all sensation and emotion, hunger and need and desperation.

Their breathing sounded overly loud in the blackness. Images ran riot through Jason’s mind: Joy blooming over Maggie’s sweet face as she found a pretty rock. Harlan Brown’s gun pressed against her head. Ben’s wide, easy smile. Jason squeezed his eyes shut and curled into a ball, wishing desperately he could switch off his mind.

The night was never going to end.

I want to go home. I want Daddy.

On the stone floor of the tiny cave, Maggie hugged her knees to her chest as she curled on her side. It was wet, dark, and freezing, and her dad felt a million miles away. The bad man snored loudly next to her, his head pillowed on his small backpack, her dad’s pack tucked under his arm.

He blocked the entrance, the stone ceiling only a few inches above them. There was no way she could crawl over him without waking him up. She was stuck.

She could still hear the echo of her dad’s voice screaming for her as the bad man had carried her off. Daddy’s shouts had gotten fainter and fainter, and she’d sobbed, the bear spray burning in her eyes. It barely seemed to bother the man, and he was so big and strong and ran so fast.

Then they’d walked forever—hours and hours. He’d piggybacked her sometimes, and she hated hanging onto him, having his scraggly, greasy hair in her face. The day had gotten colder and colder. Finally, he’d stopped when it got dark.

Her fingers had been numb, so he’d unwrapped a gross energy bar for her and given her gloves. She didn’t understand why he was nice sometimes. Why didn’t he just let her go? He’d given her his water too. She hated putting her lips to the same bottle he used, but she was so thirsty.

He’d given her a sweatshirt to put on under her poncho. It was damp and smelled gross, but she’d been afraid to say no, and had pulled the stinky cotton over her head.

The man had fallen asleep almost right away somehow, but Maggie shivered and jumped at every noise. It was so dark outside that she couldn’t see a thing. Tears filled her eyes, and she cried as quietly as she could.

At least with the bad man, she wasn’t alone.

CHAPTER SEVEN

“Did you ever want to leave Montana?” Jason’s voice was barely a whisper, but it still made Ben jump in the darkness.

“What?”

“You grew up here, you said. Sorry, I’m just…” Jason blew out a shuddery breath. “I can’t sleep. I’m going nuts waiting. Will you talk to me? Please?”

Ben kept his tone hushed as well. “Of course.” His arm was still around Jason’s chest, but he’d left an inch between their bodies, even though he wanted to press close, especially as Jason shivered in the piercing wind. There were still two hours before dawn, and neither of them had slept.

Jason asked, “Do you have lots of family around?”

“No. My mom died when I was in high school, and my dad several years ago. But this is the only home I’ve ever known.”

The seconds ticked by before Jason murmured, “Did…did he know? Your father. About you. Being…”

“That I’m gay? Yes. He was never that keen on Brad, but he had no problem with it. Well, after an adjustment period. My mom never knew. Or at least she never said anything. I was still a kid when she died. Tenth grade.” Ben wriggled the arm curled beneath him, trying to ward off pins and needles. “I wonder sometimes if she ever really knew me. I wish I’d told her before the accident. She hit a tree skiing.” That he hadn’t been honest with her was a hollow in him that would never quite be filled. “I was too afraid back then. Too much of a coward.”

Jason was silent, and Ben wished he could see his face. Wished he could kiss him again, gently this time, soothing and sweet. Then Jason said, “I’m sorry about your mom. And you’re not a coward.”

Ben grunted. “Sure feel like one sometimes.”

“You’re out here with me in the middle of the woods in the pitch dark chasing a killer.”