Chapter 29: DUNCAN’S IDENTITY

“Holy shit,” Duncan exclaims, getting out of the car and opening the backseat door when he sees a puffy-eyed scratched up Noah drag an equally hurting Rune. “What the hell happened?”

“Not now,” Noah grunts, blinking away the tears and blindly reaching for the darkness in search of the car door. 

He throws himself on the backseat, tugging at Rune’s hand to follow. “Salt, baby shampoo, towels, and a shit ton of water.” His throat itches, and he fights the urge to claw at it, to scratch the hell out of his raw eyes. 

Not a second later, he hears Duncan’s door close. The car accelerates, thrusting Noah to the leather seat. His broken hand is tightly clutching Rune’s, so much so that he’s afraid he’ll cut the boy’s circulation. Still, he doesn’t let go.

The Toyota bounces on the gravel path just behind the property. With a look back, he sees the blurry lights. The sirens sound evermore distant. The interior of the car stays dark and silent. Eve drives with no headlights, so it leaves just the sound of the powerful engine to warn of their location. Noah’s labored breath mixes with Rune’s gasps in the rush of his ears. 

Only once they see the approaching city lights does Eve finally turn on the lights. “That was close.”

“Stop by a convenience store.” Noah taps on the driver’s seat.

The parking lot of the 24h hour store is empty, or at least it seems so from Noah’s blurry perspective. “No tear soap. Or we’ll be fucked again.” He reminds Duncan.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Then, without waiting for the couple to get back, he reaches to his sock. The handle has been warmed by continuing contact with his leg. “It’s necessary,” he mutters with hoarse voice, as if there’s something stuck in his throat that he can’t quite cough off. 

Noah tears the cotton material of his own hoodie. It’s not easy to saw through seams, so he ends up ripping it in a mockery of a superhero scene. The hot breeze touches his bare torso, reminding him of the pearls of sweat running down his back. 

“It’s your turn,” he warns Rune. “I’m sorry, but I have to do this.”

When Rune doesn’t respond, Noah takes it as an answer. He slowly extends his arms to take hold of the material. At first, his movements are hesitant, and Noah almost expects Rune to shift out of reach. As Rune keeps silent, Noah’s movements become increasingly confident and, after stabbing at the fabric to rip, he tears the rest in a demonstration of brute force. 

Although he can’t see the boy’s torso, knowing he’s there, so close, is enough for Noah’s impulsive desires to fill every neuronal exchange. He wants to touch, to feel the soft skin under his fingertips. He grabs Rune’s wrist, dragging him to the outside.

A set of footsteps announce the couple’s arrival. He takes a small water bottle, pouring all of its contents to his eyes. The invasive sensation of the water in his eyeballs fights with the pain, and he blinks rapidly. 

He washes his hands with soap. He scrubs slightly at his face and neck with the foam, before turning to Rune’s bent frame. “Look up,” he orders gently pushing his chin up with one hand, “Bend your knees down.” Rune plops on the floor with a thump, his knees only protected from the pavement by his cargo pants. “Didn’t mean so much,” he mutters, his cheeks burning.

Noah leans in to inspect the red eyes. Although he’s still hurting, and his eyes are constantly watering, his vision is returning to a manageable point. “Can you breathe normally?”

Rune nods, his Adam’s apple moves up and down with obvious effort. Even with Rune’s obvious underestimation of his own pain, Noah can’t see any signs of asthma attacks, or anaphylaxis. “You’re not allergic to capsicum, right?”

Rune shakes his head, confirming his analysis.

Next, he mixes two bottle caps of salt into the water. “When I pour the solution, you’ll have to blink.” He grabs Rune’s hair while he tilts the saline solution. Rune does as ordered, as his hands hover over Noah’s hands. He’s fighting his desire to intervene, to wrench free and rub at his itching face. He winces as the salt washes over a scratch in the cheek.“You’re holding up bravely.” He says smiling.

Eve snorts, “Look at that. The hurt idiot caring for the other hurt idiot. Why is this so funny?”

Duncan chuckles. 

“You look like shit,” Rune groans, his dark eyes finally focusing on Noah’s face. “Do I look like you?”

Noah looks at the rosy blemishes around the dark eyes, the red nose, and the wet streaks of water and tears mixing in rivers that plop to the ground from his chin. The cuts and bruises at both sides of his face where the trees have scratched him are slightly deeper red. He runs his thumb under Rune’s nose. “Just a little bit,” he laughs.

Finally, he takes a cloth, rinsing it in water and pouring some soap. He taps at reddened skin, careful to avoid his eyes and cuts, although proven not an easy task as Rune sucks air through his gritted teeth a few times. He apologizes a few times, promising the boy kneeling it’s almost over.

“So, now that you’re mostly okay, care to explain what the fuck?” Duncan flails his arms at the scene unfolding before him.

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“Sam attacked us. I think he wanted to turn me in to the cops.” Noah explains, his eyes focused on the nursing task.

“That bastard,” Duncan growls. 

“Then, he tried to kill me.” His voice is monotone, and the words are far away. He runs the towel over Rune’s neck, and his collarbone.The boy swallows, his swollen eyes piercing him. “I don’t know if he got out before the raid.” Sighing, he quickly adds, “It’s fine, we can go now.”

In the ride to Duncan’s warehouse, Noah’s barely conscious of the street lamps bathing the car in warm light, or Eve’s jokes, or Duncan’s bad language. No. He spends the entirety of the drive looking at Rune, exploring the shapes of his face with his newly found vision. His naked torso, the slight muscle definition, the paleness… For the first time, he can see the totality of Rune’s forearm tattoos. A wolf face framed by the silhouettes of pines blend into lines and patterns that remind Noah of some kind of witchcraft. As if Rune is willing to existence a demon, attaching the creature to his own being. The scars on the inside are a tone lighter than his skin. They seem to shine. 

His eyes meet Rune’s, and he quickly looks away, his whole face equal parts itchy and warm. His twists his hands. 

The garage is eerily devoid of noise. Much different than the busy state as they prepared the equipment for the robbery. Duncan gives both half-naked boys some shirts. 

“Well,” Eve’s voice booms in the hollow spaces of the building, “Do we talk about this shit already?”

“There’s something weird with that farm,” Duncan responds. He points a finger at Noah and Rune, “Don’t tell me you don’t see it.”

Noah knows. He shakes his head.

“You tell me it’s normal to mark an abandoned house?” Duncan shakes his head, his eyes on the floor but his gaze traveling a few miles ahead. “There was a purpose for this. I know. But what the fuck?”

“Maybe his plan from the beginning was to betray us?”

Noah releases a shaky breath, the trembling appearing again after their little truce. How he wishes he could be at that house again with Rune’s lips exploring him. Noah knows. Or, rather, the circumstances of this night lead him to a conclusion he doesn’t want to reach. 

“We need to disinfect our cuts,” Noah says, signaling Rune’s cheeks.

A quiet purr coming from below catches Noah’s attention. When he finds the source, he sees an orange cat entwined in Eve’s legs. It’s an adult, with caramel eyes. 

“Paws, stop it.” She exclaims as she gently pushes away the animal with her Oxford shoes. She disappears in the stairways that head to Duncan’s living arrangement.

Noah’s heart skips a beat. 

“Paws?” His voice is a whisper. He clenches his fists.

“My sister’s.” He pauses, looking at the cat on the foot of the ladder. “I couldn’t let him go after her death.”

Could it be? 

Danger tingles in the back of his mind.

The words slip out without his permission. “So you want to avenge your sister by killing Noah?” He mentally curses, his nails dig into his palms. 

He awaits for a confirmation that he doesn’t need. However, he clings onto the hope that he’s wrong. His minds searches for a million reasons to explain the coincidences, but none of them ultimately satisfies Noah. He knows before locking eyes with Duncan, and after looking at the sadness in his brown eyes. He wouldn’t want to know, but he does.

As the pieces fit together, everything makes sense, but that doesn’t stop the cold needle that pierces his heart. And it’s another reminder of the uncomfortable reality he’s been cowering from. 

The desire filling Rune’s eyes is not meant for Noah to see. Rune sees Riley in everything he is. He can never be the object of Rune’s kisses, as Noah will always be prey in his eyes. 

And he’s not sure it’s undeserved.

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