The lingering gaze Six had been gracing him with hardened into icy blankness. With movements too fluid and deliberate to not be practiced, Six flipped off the lights, yanked Holden down into a crouch, and popped a panel in the floor of the living room to remove a handgun. The sight of it should have been terrifying, but Holden inched closer to Six. He no longer had doubts that the man who’d just fucked him into a blinding orgasm was utterly dangerous, but that was starting to feel like a good thing. His own prowess was limited to dexterously switching subway cars while carrying a Starbucks and his cell phone.
“Stay down,” Six whispered. “If I start shooting, try to get to the back room without being seen. There’s a window you can fit out in the bedroom.”
“What about you?”
Moments ago, the cabin had been full of panting breath, groans, and the humidity created by two sweaty bodies moving against each other. Now the sound of Six cocking the gun was deafening.
“I’ll be fine.”
“What does that mean?” Holden wrapped his fingers around Six’s forearm. “I’m not leaving you here to be caught by those assholes on the road.”
“I know those assholes on the road,” Six said roughly. “And if I can’t reason with them, I’ll take care of them.”
“You’ll kill them.”
“I’ll do what it takes to keep them from seeing you or contacting the base and saying they’ve seen me.”
“No.”
The look Six speared through him was so furious Holden half expected to be wrestled toward the back bedroom. Crouched and coiled with a gun in his hand, Six was frightening. Deadly. But the invisible tunnel of Holden’s gift was still sliding through Six’s shield, and he could feel how scared Six was. For him. The only threat was coming from the Farm and the Community.
“Listen to me,” Holden hissed. “I’m still Richard Payne’s son. If anything, I can—”
“No. Your fucking privilege doesn’t work here, Holden. It’s a different world. And you have no reason to be in this cabin or to even know that it exists.” Six grabbed a handful of his shirt, yanking him closer and dropping his voice. “If they find you here, you’re going to end up like your mother. She wasn’t exempt either.”
The thought of his mother nearly sent Holden surging to his feet. The tremors started again, making it undeniable that he wasn’t cut out for this, but the throb of three different sets of impressions were growing closer, and there was no time to debate anymore.
Six clutched the gun, sitting on his haunches and waiting with efficient movements and measured breaths. He’d always struck Holden as a man who got things done, and that was even more apparent now. He’d get this done if it didn’t go their way.
The door opened, and Six started to ease around the corner. There were a thousand thoughts racing through Holden’s mind about how this would go and how he would react after seeing his new lover kill a man, maybe three men, but familiarity soared through his open channel. There was a distinct mix of impatience, mounting anxiousness, and exasperation flooding through the connection he’d opened.
Just as Six raised the gun, he grabbed his forearm. “Wait!”
Six gave him a wild look, but Holden ignored it and the hand grabbing at him to jump to his feet. He was utterly unsurprised to be face-to-face with Lia’s intense frown, Nate’s flustered gaze, and the way Trent clearly thought everyone was doing the absolute most. With his shaggy dark hair and blue eyes, he was extremely pleasing to look at, but Holden had a hard time doing so considering their previous encounter had been with Trent mind controlled and trying to strangle him. Now, Trent glanced at him curiously. That changed into alarm once Six stood up with his gun pointed at Nate’s face.
“What the fuck?”
“Put your gun—”
“Oh for Chrissake.” Lia stood between Six and Nate with her hands up. “They’re cool. Put the gun down.”
“‘Cool,’” Six repeated flatly. “You’re not the authority on who’s cool and who’s not, and nobody told you to bring extras here.”
“Extras? I didn’t realize we were on a movie set.”
Nate elbowed Trent in the side. He looked different in a pair of cuffed shredded jeans, a faded trench coat, and a bunch of multicolored scarves, but his subtle Texas drawl was the same. “It’s really not the time.”
Trent crossed his arms over his chest. “Holden, tell your boy to calm his tits.”
Holden shook himself. Nate bursting into his life without warning for the second time in a year was just as startling as it’d been the first time. How had he never noticed the similarities between his and Chase’s white-blond hair and silver eyes? Those fine features and willowy builds? It was almost as though he’d gone through life in a mist of obliviousness when he hadn’t been burying his head in the sand.
“They’re with us,” he said. “Nate and Trent were the ones who figured out what was going on at the club.”
“You mean we figured out that your pops’ lady friend was snatching up psychics under your nose,” Trent corrected.
Holden set his jaw. “We’re all on the same side.”
“Are we?” Lia asked. “You’re sure this time?”
“I’m sure.”
“Excellent.” Lia strode across the room and put a hand on Six’s tense arm. Slowly and carefully, she pressed it down until the gun was lowered but still clenched in his white-knuckled grip. “Then we can figure out how the hell we’re getting onto the Farm.”
There had been few times in Holden’s life when he’d felt as out of control as he’d been in the past several months. After three decades of thinking he had things well in hand, the current stream of events had turned him into a bundle of exposed nerves. On edge. Jumpy. And bracing himself for what would happen next to jolt his system and turn everything inside out all over again.
He was coiled tight as they settled in the living room with the lights off, the door bolted, and his and Nate’s internal antennas up and ready to pick up on unwanted guests. So far so good. Holden felt nothing but the four other people surrounding him, and he could tell by the pinched expression on his lovely face that Nate was struggling with his inability to access Six. He was apparently still impenetrable to everyone but Holden.
Six was standing across the room with his arms folded and his gaze on the window, not trusting their empath talents or Lia’s low-tier precog abilities to see what was coming. The cold displeasure etched into his face made for a tense atmosphere, especially because Trent stayed as far away as possible with his body angled in front of Nate. Nate, who was Six’s polar opposite in every way, and whose presence emphasized Six’s height, brawny muscles, and onyx eyes.
“I gave Nate and Trent a rundown of what’s happening,” Lia said.
“What was your rundown?” Holden asked. “I’d like to hear the full version.”
“You already know it, and Six had to have told you the rest.” She leaned against the door, a human barrier to match the flimsy wooden one. “The Community’s shit is finally floating to the surface. The situation at Evolution made a lot of people start asking questions and voicing their discontent about the answers given. When it comes down to it, the Community had always relied on gaslighting and intimidation to keep people in line. But you can’t send the entire Comm to the Farm for realignment.” Lia jerked her chin at Holden. “They needed patsies. And that’s Chase, and that’s Elijah, and that might even be you. If the overall Community thinks you guys are to blame, then there’s no need to question anything else.”
“What I don’t understand is the end goal.” Nate slid his hands into the pockets of his trench coat, drawing it closer around his narrow body. He looked like a movie star with his wind-blown hair and upturned collar. “Why did your dad want Beck to spot rare talents?”
Everyone looked at Holden. Even Six. Was this a test to see how much he’d accepted of the Ex-Comm narrative? They needn’t waste their time.
“It seems like my father’s real purpose with the Community is to cultivate a group of people who have the psychic capabilities to influence change on a national scale.”
“‘Change,’” Trent repeated. “Government change?”
“Yes. Maybe? I don’t know the details, but it’s . . . It really does seem like he’s using the CW to cherry-pick people they can suck in and program to further their overall agenda. Anyone who doesn’t serve a purpose in that specific agenda just becomes a pawn.” Swallowing the bitter pill of his own role, Holden cracked his knuckles and continued. “As Richard Payne’s idealistic gay son, my purpose is likely to make it seem like social justice runs in our veins. I care about LGBT issues, and he makes it seem like I get that instinct to care from him. Chase and Six are tools my father could use to safeguard their secrets due to both their uncommon talents and no-nonsense demeanors, and psys like Elijah seem to hold the lowest rank. The CW does work with the Elijahs, but mostly so the Elijahs can then give lip service about how much Richard Payne and the Community has done for them. Word of mouth is imperative for this kind of scheme to work.”
Six had begun nodding with each word. By the end of Holden’s speech, he’d moved to stand beside Holden at the counter. To everyone else, it likely appeared unconscious. Holden knew it meant something else. That theory solidified when Six’s hand dropped out of sight and his fingers brushed Holden’s palm. If the question had been a final test, Holden had just passed with flying colors. He hadn’t even realized how much he’d needed Six’s complete trust, but now that he had it, it sent blood coursing through him with the pounding of a drum.
There was something between them all right. He just had no idea what it was.
“Are the other founders involved in this?” Nate asked. “Or just your father?”
“From what Ex-Comm has seen,” Lia started, although she raised her hands as if to caution it wasn’t one hundred percent, “Hale and Kyger may have an inkling about what’s been going on at the Farm, but they’re afraid of Richard. Even if they started as equals, it quickly became clear that Richard Payne is the one who holds the power.”
Holden glanced at Six to see him nodding in agreement with this assessment. For some reason, it brought a measure of comfort. They weren’t all bad. It wasn’t all a lie.
“Do they know about Jasper?” he asked.
Lia and Six looked at each other again before Six said, “I don’t think they’re . . . allowed on the Farm. Richard bills it as Community property, but it’s very much his domain. And they let him handle it because they’d rather focus their attention on the CW than what Richard does to handle unruly psys and troublemakers.”
Holden shook his head in disgust. Spineless cowards. Even if they weren’t involved directly, they were certainly bystanders.
“Why do they let him do this?” Nate demanded, looking incredulous. “He’s just one man.”
“All it takes is one man,” Trent said. “One man who can say just the right things to appeal to people’s basest fears, and to reassure them that he can protect them and save the day.”
“He’s right,” Lia said. “And Richard has been the mouthpiece for the founders since the Community started. He’s always been the one fanning the flames of how everyone is out to get psychics, and how only the Community can protect us from the voids. In reality, he wants to use us to take control of both the Community and the voids.”
“The sick thing is,” Six said slowly, “is that he believes the things he says. He doesn’t see himself as evil. He thinks he has to be the one to make the tough decisions to save us all from the government and the voids. He has to pick and choose who will be a fighter in his battle to slowly take control, and he has to be the one to snuff out any potential traitors. In his mind, this is all for a greater good that only he sees and understands.”
Holden curled his hands into fists until his nails cut into the soft flesh of his palms.
“What’s the plan?” Trent broke the brief silence with the impatience and tenacity of a true New Yorker. There was no marinating in the comforting silence that followed the realization that everyone was finally on the same page. He wanted to know what the next step was. “Bust in, get Chase and Elijah, and help them go dark?”
“Hiding worked for us for the past several months,” Nate said. “But no one was looking for us. It’s different this time.”
“It is different, but you all need to be aware of the fact that if we bust onto the Farm, it’s going to be war.” Six set his gun on the counter. “Even if Hale and Kyger aren’t entirely on Richard’s side, they’ll come for us, and we’d have to destroy them.”
“Wait—is that your ultimate goal?” Every time Holden thought he had an idea about where this was all going, there was a new twist or turn with an unexpected outcome waiting for him. “How would you go about doing something like that?”
“There are plans,” Lia said vaguely. “It’s been in discussion for years.”
“Discussion. In Ex-Comm?”
“Ex-Comm isn’t one unified group like you seem to be thinking. It’s like separate offshoots of former Community members who share the same goal and communicate remotely.”
“Like the hacker group Anonymous?” Trent asked. “Different sects operating separately but with a common goal.”
Lia nodded. “Yes. Ultimately, most people who think of themselves as being Ex-Comm want to take the Community down.”
Judging from the lack of surprise on Nate’s and Trent’s faces, they knew what Ex-Comm was. Maybe they even knew about this plan to save the psychic world from his father, but Holden was still left feeling like a gay club owner being thrust into a thriller-esque adventure that he was very ill prepared to embark upon.
“What are the plans?” Trent asked. “If you expect us to be involved . . .”
“Nobody expects you to be involved at this point,” Six said. “The safest thing for you would be to disappear when this is all said and done.”
Lia checked the window like Six had been frequently doing for the past several minutes. Maybe she thought discussion of their secret anti-Comm group was an incantation that would summon the guards. And, hell, maybe it was. It was quickly becoming apparent that there was far more about the world than Holden had ever known.
He sat down on one of the stools at the counter, and was surprised when Nate put a hand on his shoulder.
“You’re fine,” Nate said quietly. “I don’t know what’s going on either.”
“That’s actually comforting.”
“I figured it would be. That’s why I told you.” Nate squeezed his shoulder, totally ignoring the deadly frown Six was aiming at him. “Get in, get Chase and Elijah, and get out. Do we have a way to transport them out of the area?”
“I have a truck hidden farther down the parkway,” Six said, still glaring at DEFCON 1. “Depending on the condition they’re in, it shouldn’t be hard to get them out. I know all of the pathways from the Farm and into the surrounding forest and marshes. Marshes are the best bet since most people stay away and won’t be able to easily navigate their way through, but there’s also a lake we can row across if things get heated.”
“And if we have to split up?” Trent asked. “I was born in Brooklyn, man. I don’t mess with marshlands and Lord of the Rings shit.”
He really was irritatingly likable. He and Nate both were, and it was a relief to have them nearby.
“I have maps in the bedroom unless someone’s been messing around in here since I left,” Six said. “One has each potential route in and out of the Farm highlighted.”
“So you’ve been preparing for this for a while,” Trent said.
“For a decade.”
“What happened a decade ago?”
Lia tensed, which was Holden’s first clue that there was something bigger at stake here. When Six’s attention skipped from Trent to Holden and stayed, his stomach did a dolphin flip. He almost didn’t want to know. But that was cowardly, and there was no room for craven bullshit when they were about to storm his father’s compound.
“What?”
“Sixtus, this isn’t the right time—”
Six cut Lia off with a sharp shake of his head. “He needs to know.”
“Know what?” Holden demanded.
“That ten years ago I met Jessica Payne. Your mother had just started forming what we now call Ex-Comm.”
Holden released a low laugh that ended with a humph. It had to be a joke, and not a terribly funny one, but he was the only one laughing. Lia’s expression was completely still, Nate was deeply frowning, and Trent half turned away with his hand in his hair as if he was experiencing secondhand embarrassment due to Holden’s cluelessness. His smile faded.
“You can’t be serious.”
“I’m serious.”
Holden gritted his teeth. “This isn’t the time for your literal replies, Sixtus. Don’t fuck around with me.”
“I’m not.” Six raised his hands and put them down before glancing around the room. The sharp edge of frustration in him was a reminder that he didn’t always have the words or the actions to make things right. He didn’t know how to break this news smoothly. “I met your mother when she first came to the Farm. Back then it was voluntary. I could tell she was on a mission to make some changes and get through to people being held there. Which is what she did for me.”
“How?”
Six’s mouth tightened again. “We can talk about the specifics later, but she helped me see there could be more to my life than what I was given by the Community. And then she told me about other people like her who saw the truth about Richard’s need to control us, and who wanted to make changes. They just couldn’t do it out in the open.”
Holden glanced at the others. If it weren’t for the knot forming in his throat, the contrast of Nate’s rapt expression and Trent’s skeptical one would have been hilarious. Maybe it was hilarious. It seemed like everyone knew more about his family than he did. Years of embracing this community the Paynes were said to have cultivated, and everything was a lie. His childhood, his parents—everything. Lies.
“Holden, it’s true,” Lia said softly. “Your mother is pretty much a folk hero for people in Ex-Comm. And I know that sounds fucking ridiculous, but it’s real. She was the one who started slowly unraveling this vow of loyalty that had ensnared everyone. You should know more than anyone that breaking the Community’s policy of silence is huge.”
“It is.” Nate’s voice pitched lower and his drawl sharpened. “Not being quiet is what got my brother killed.”
“And Jericho.” Lia flinched when she said his name, like it caused her physical pain to be reminded of his murder. Holden didn’t blame her. For months, he’d relived that scene every time he closed his eyes. Sleep had eluded him until very recently. “But your mother saw the truth before anyone, and she wanted to change things. It was why she decided to go to the Farm instead of staying in the city with your father. For years, she put in a lot of work there, but the people she was working on started speaking a little too loudly.”
Six nodded. “Yes. Jasper and Richard caught on, and instead of being treated as an executive staff member, she was treated like a community member in need of reprogramming.”
“You saw this happen?” Holden asked.
“Yes. And I couldn’t do anything to stop it but reach out to others and warn them that she was in trouble.”
“Which is why, over time, the conversations among the different Ex-Comm groups shifted from rescue operations to takedowns.” Lia looked at Six for confirmation and nodded when she got it. “Before things went down at Evolution, me and a couple of Ex-Comm guys in this area were planning to get your mother out of the Farm. The problem is that we can’t tell if she’s fully reprogrammed or faking it. She may put up a fight.”
“It’s possible.” Holden pushed away from the counter. He sucked in a shaky breath as her shrill cries echoed in his ears. “She’s not herself anymore.”
“Can’t a telepath get through to her?” Trent asked. “Or a, y’know, dreamwalker or some shit. Like, access the unconscious part of her brain that isn’t being controlled.”
Lia arched a brow. “If I knew a dreamwalker, it might be possible. That was surprisingly inventive for a void.”
“Yeah, well, JLo was looking pretty hot in The Cell.”
A surprised laugh popped out of Lia’s mouth and Nate’s mouth twitched in a fond smile, but Six’s attention was fixed on Holden. The scrutiny was too much combined with all there was to process.
“I need to think,” Holden said. “Is it okay if I go sit outside?”
“No—”
“Yes,” Lia interrupted Six. “Get some air. We’ll start looking at the maps.”
“Good.” Holden turned away without looking at any of them. “I’ll be back.”
“Holden.”
He paused just inside the hallway, but Six didn’t say anything more. And Holden wanted him to. As confused as he was, and as lied to as he felt, he craved the crackle of Six’s protective energy. But it didn’t happen, so Holden strode down the dark hallway and found the narrow doorway leading to the back of the cabin. Trees shrouded the area in a way that was likely beautiful in the autumn or spring, but now the leafless sentinels just made the great wooded area eerie.
Holden sat on the edge of the back steps and crossed his arms. He searched for a warmth in himself that would chase away the chill of his fear and the unknown, but the cold had seeped down to his bones. It was entirely possible he would never warm up again.
“Hey.”
“Nate,” he said without looking up.
“Can I sit with you?”
Holden laughed humorlessly. “Of course.”
The back porch was so narrow that Nate’s knee and thigh brushed his own as he sat down. A few months ago, Holden would have reached out with his gift to get inside the other empath’s head. It’d been like an addiction every time he was around Nate—the cynical untrusting empath from the infamous Black family with the old eyes and sweet mouth. Now, that desire was gone. In fact, that need to know what other people were feeling had begun to fade in the past several weeks. Being closer to Six had forced him to find other ways to communicate beyond searching someone’s energy before coming up with an appropriate response.
“How are you dealing with all of this?”
“Do you really care how I’m doing, Nate?”
“You kept your word and didn’t bring me or Trent to the attention of your father.” Nate half turned toward him and leaned forward. “I didn’t know what to expect from you, which is why I . . . didn’t return your call and reached out to Lia instead. I was just scared. But you didn’t throw us under the bus even after they tried to use you as a scapegoat. So, yes. I care.”
The iron bar sliding down Holden’s back softened just a bit. He hunched forward with a huff. “I didn’t know I’d needed to hear that until you said it.”
Nate’s smile was almost triumphant. “I’ve been practicing my empath skills.”
“Oh? No longer scorning your gift?”
“Nope. I’m making my living by reading tarot cards. It requires me to constantly read people’s reactions.”
Holden tsked. “You’re better than that.”
“Am I?” Nate wrapped in on himself, elbow resting on his knee and face cradled by his hand. “When I was younger, I used to judge people in my family who read palms or tarot cards. Thought it was a bunch of hocus-pocus and scams. But, after doing it for a while, that’s sort of changed.” Nate chewed on his lower lip, gaze unfocusing as his thoughts went somewhere far away. “Now it’s sort of . . . nice to be able to give people an unbiased perspective about their lives.”
“An unbiased perspective.” This time, Holden did laugh. “Is that what you’re calling it?”
“Yes. Sometimes if the impressions are strong enough, I can see into their thoughts and feel what they felt in the past, and I just sort of . . .” Nate waved his hand. “Read the cards based on what I’ve felt about their lives and give them my unbiased opinion on what I think they should do. And yes, I know how that sounds. Sometimes I suspect Trent thinks I’ve turned into a new age hippie with delusions of grandeur.”
“Yes, well, that’s one way of putting it.”
Nate shrugged, smiling slightly. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you didn’t answer my question. How are you?”
Holden had hoped the distraction had been sufficient, but he didn’t fight for another way out of the conversation. “I’m awful, Nate. Everything I thought I knew about my life is a lie. My father is a monster, my mother . . . he crushed her and her spirit at this place just because she didn’t want to accept his corruption of the Community. There aren’t sufficient words in my vocabulary to explain just how not okay I am right now.”
“I get it.”
“How could you get it? I mean, seriously.”
“Because you were right about my family being batshit.” Nate sat up straight again, his pale hair tumbling over his shoulders as a dry wind cut through the woods. “I don’t think me and my brother were a fluke. I think my family had practiced incest for a while to keep the psychic gifts strong in our genes.” Nate’s tone was matter-of-fact, as though he’d long accepted this truth. “End result is a family where mental illness and addiction runs rampant due to all the inbreeding, and my mother running here to find solace and instead finding your father. You’d think that would have been the worst for her, the experimentation and them taking Chase, but when she went back to Texas, her own sibling decided to start up the inbreeding again.” Nate’s lips turned up in a way that showed he’d mastered the art of the humorless smile. “So, I found out my uncle is also my and my brother’s father. It’s really no wonder she fucking killed herself, if that’s what really happened.”
Holden was struck silent for so long, with his eyes rounded with shock and awe, that Nate finally cracked a real smile.
“Don’t feel like you have to say anything. There’s no real way to respond.”
“No. There’s not.” Holden ran his fingers through his hair and exhaled slowly. “But, Jesus, Nate. I suppose you really do understand.”
“Yep. Lucky me.” Nate pressed his hands against the step to push himself up, but he didn’t move. “This is awful, Holden. It’s fucking awful. All of this. And I’m sorry your father is so involved, but like I said . . . I know a little bit about the goddamn betrayal of realizing the man you grew up with is actually a monster. Your father is just a different kind than my own.” Those silver eyes flashed. “What I’ve come to realize, and a lot of it has to do with being with Trent, is that just because we’re born into something doesn’t mean we have to be part of it. We don’t have to rationalize it or defend it or take it on our own shoulders. The Black family’s shit isn’t on me. It’s not my shame. And the Community’s crimes aren’t yours. We can be free of this, Holden. There’s no such fucking thing as fate. We can make our own way and find other people to start over with.”
Holden’s wall of grief cracked just a little, and Nate’s encouraging smile splintered it the rest of the way. He breached the space between them and drew Nate into a loose hug. No vibes. No talents. Just the solid weight of a body against his own and arms around his neck. Who knew it could feel so good just to be close to someone? It wasn’t something he’d ever attempted before being with Six.
The thought must have summoned him, because as Holden pulled away from Nate, Six appeared in the back door.
Relief flooded Holden. He realized just how keenly he’d wanted Six to follow and comfort him, but it faded at the serious expression on that hard face.
“I’ll be inside,” Nate said, excusing himself. “Helping Trent figure out how to navigate trees.”
Holden tried to force a smile, but it was wobbly and faded entirely once Six came over to him.
“What’s wrong now?”
“I don’t like it when he touches you.”
Holden’s brows snapped together. “What? Who?”
Six jerked his head in the direction Nate had gone.
“Are you serious?”
“Have you known me to joke?”
“I haven’t known you to be irrationally possessive either.” Holden stared in wonder, unable to hide his surprise. This was one of the more unexpected conversations he’d ever had. “He was just being nice. I mean, have you seen his boyfriend? You’re similarly tall, dark, and gorgeous.”
“I don’t give a shit.” Six remained towering over Holden, the air around him crackling with possessiveness and anger. “I don’t like it.”
Holden grabbed the hem of his coat and dragged him down. At first Six resisted, but he eventually allowed himself to be drawn down onto the step. When Holden shifted closer and cupped that stubbled face with his fingers, breath catching at the way Six leaned into the touch, he had to force himself to not use his newfound ability to read Six. Even if he had the key to unlock all that armor, he refused to abuse it. Because this—the feel of skin and breath and the smolder of bottomless black eyes—was enough.
“You want me to be straightforward with you, so now it’s time for you to do the same for me,” Holden said. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“I’m thinking about how much I hate this.” Six reached up to encircle Holden’s wrists with his hands. “When I took this assignment, it was because I remembered you from the tribunal and because you were Jessica’s son. I wanted to protect you if I could. Wanting to kiss the fuck out of you every ten minutes wasn’t part of the plan. And neither was wanting to be the only one who gets to touch you.”
Holden slowly nodded, pulse picking up but unwilling to interrupt this flow of speech.
“I’m sorry I kept secrets from you, but we only just started opening up to each other. And I’m sorry I can’t be like Nate—fucking knowing what to say, when to say it, and how to touch you when you need someone to make you feel better.” Six wet his lips, a nervous gesture that still drew Holden’s gaze. “I’ve never done this before, so I don’t know how to put it into words, but I want to be more than the cyborg bodyguard you’re fucking who can also take care of anyone who looks at you sideways. The compassion and comforting words—everything he just did for you—should have come from me. I just don’t know how to do it.”
“That’s not true.”
Six pulled Holden closer, strong fingers digging into slumped shoulders. “No. I really don’t.”
“Give yourself some credit, Sixtus. You’re doing a goddamn fine job right now.” Holden allowed himself to melt onto Six as if the strings holding him up had been cut. Strong arms encircled him, and the ghost of a smile graced his lips. “If we make it out of this, I can’t wait for us to figure out how to be in a relationship. It should be a mess.”
“When we make it out of this,” Six rumbled in his ear. “I may not understand soft touches, but I have the rest of this shit on lock.”
“I hope so.”