Unearthed (The Dungeon Black Duology 1)

Kevin’s muffled sobs resounded like daggers to Max’s heart. “I have to do it. I have to, Max. I—I don’t have a choice.”

“Like hell you don’t!” Max boomed, barely holding it together. Kevin’s cries grew louder. Max struggled to reel it in, the fury inside him exploding. He inhaled slow and deep. “You do have a choice,” he muttered. “You can tell them to fuck off and come live with me.”

“Then what? You’re leaving for college soon. What happens to me then, when you go?”

“You’ll come with me, Kev. You can still sleep in my dorm room. We’ll get jobs. Save money. Maybe you can go to a community college.”

Kevin groaned in pure anguish. “That’d never fucking work. A pipe dream, Max. Just accept it. It’s over.”

God, he sounded so broken. So wrecked. Like he’d already started waving the flag.

Max shook his head furiously. “No, Kev. No. It’s not over. We’ve only just begun.”

“Max,” Kevin cried. “Please. Just stop. I told you. I’m not like you. I can’t.”

“Yes, you fucking can, Kev. No giving up.” Max dragged a hand through his auburn mane. “Pack your bags. I’m coming to get you.”

“Don’t. It’ll only make things worse. Please. Just stay away. For me.”

“No. I won’t. I fucking refuse. We have a whole life ahead of us. We can do this. We can.”

“But I don’t want to!” Kevin broke down completely. “It’s over! I can’t live with them hating me! I just can’t!”

“What about me?” Max shouted, head spinning. “Can you live with me hating you instead?”

“No,” Kevin sobbed. “It’d fucking kill me. Please don’t hate me, Max. Fuck. God. Please.”

“I don’t! Goddamn it! I love you, Kevin! And I’m not gonna let them fucking hurt you!”

“Jesus, Max! Too late! God, don’t you see? I’m screwed no matter what!” Great heaves of sorrow stifled his words. “If you love me, Max, please… just let me go.”

Max choked back a big, frantic sob of his own. “No. I won’t.” He stalked to his closet. “Pack your fucking bags, Kev. Right fucking now.” Snatching out a duffle, he chucked it on his bed, then marched over and yanked open his drawers. “We’re leaving town. Just need to get away.”

“No, Max. I can’t… I’m exhausted… I’m done. I don’t wanna do this anymore.”

“Too fucking bad. I’ll carry you if I need to.”

“Max,” Kevin breathed.

“No. Just wait for me. I’ll be at your house in thirty.”

* * * * *

A half hour later, Max turned onto Kevin’s street, fuming behind the wheel of his blue pickup. His heart had calmed down, but not by much. He was still fucking furious, and truthfully, floored. He’d always known Kevin’s parents were assholes, but until now, he’d never truly realized the extent of it.

Conversion therapy.

Max had heard about that sick, twisted shit. Always made him think of evil scientists. He shuddered and swallowed thickly. Those fuckers wouldn’t come anywhere near his Kevin. They’d have to beat their way through Max first.

A cop flew up behind him, lights flashing, but no siren. Max cussed. Had he been speeding? Could this night get any worse? He pulled off to the side, ready to dig out his license, but the police car just kept on driving. Max exhaled. Then frowned. Where was that cop going? Fresh ice doused his veins.

Shoving it back into drive, Max stepped on the gas, thick dread welling in his gut. He had a very bad feeling. And it was descending fast. Hands squeezing the steering wheel, Max rounded a wide bend in the road. Another dozen houses and he’d be at Kevin’s.

Blue lights suddenly sliced through the darkness, along with lots of flashing red ones, too. No question, those were cop car and fire truck lights, responding to a local emergency. Max’s heart skipped a beat. Oh, God. Oh, no. Please don’t let them be at Kevin’s.

But deep down, Max knew as he reached the bend’s finish, that that’s exactly where they’d be. Kevin’s home emerged into view. Hope disintegrated. Max slowed to a stop, taking in the ominous scene. All those flashing lights, all those countless vehicles, all those EMT’s and that ambulance couldn’t be good. Most likely they signified something quite the opposite. Something that was very fucking bad.

Max’s heart pounded wildly as he parked his truck, the closest available spot a few houses down. Fuck. What had happened? Had Kevin’s dad gotten violent? Beat Kevin up? Had Kevin finally snapped? Grabbed his dad’s gun and gone postal? Shit. Kevin was eighteen. He could technically go to jail.

Max cursed and climbed warily out of his truck, then slammed the door a bit too loud. Not that anyone noticed. They all seemed pretty focused, milling in and out of Kevin’s house. Max swallowed, forcing one foot in front of the other. Something inside his head was suddenly screaming. Shouting for him to turn the fuck around.