The Morgan Lore - 15. Chapter 15

A heartbreaking tirade.

Rory filled his senses with the lone wolf’s sickening scent, keeping alert as they raced through trees. Paws on cold ground, leaving a perfect trail for June’s team. They were headed away from the pack house, heading toward town. Away from Milan’s house, thank goodness.

‘He’s determined to escape.’

Rory cursed when they crossed a road into the forest that connected to his high school.

‘We catch him and I’m killing him for making me miss dinner,’ Chris jumped over a boulder.

Chris snapped at the black wolf’s tail hoping to throw him out of balance. The lone wolf swerved, Chris bumped into a tree, losing momentum. Rory jumped in, taking Chris’s place, pushing his powerful body harder, swiping his paws into the lone wolf’s left side. The black wolf screamed in pain, but kept running. Increasing his speed, pushing Rory into a faster race. They ran into the football field at Ashland High. The school building ahead, the parking lot empty. The doors would be locked. Nowhere to hide.

Rory came up on the black wolf’s right side, closing in, until they were a foot apart. Then the sound of a gunshot rang through the evening and Rory stumbled, Chris on his back.

‘Get off,’ Rory growled. ‘We’re letting him get away.’

‘Can’t fight bullets, Rory.’

Chris rolled off Rory, just as the rest of the pack security team reached them.

They spend the next hour looking for the black wolf. Seeking a fresh trail, but he seemed to have disappeared. Rory and Chris returned to the pack house, leaving a team of four to keep up the search.

“So, you think the gunshot came from the school?” June stood with her hands at her waist as she paced the length of her office. “Is that even possible? I can’t believe it.”

“He was running to the school, the parking lot was empty,” Rory said, leaning forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees.

He closed his eyes, searching the scene, remembering everything he could. The school building, the parking lot, the road, the black wolf running, losing steam.

“The gunshot came from ahead.” Rory opened his eyes. “It was a warning shot. To distract, not to injure. If Chris hadn’t jumped on me at that moment, we would have caught the lone wolf.”

“I wasn’t going to risk you,” Chris said. “Sorry June, you saw where the bullet landed. Inches away from him.”

“I know,” June sighed and rubbed her forehead. “This is a shit storm. Gunshots at school. We have capped that piece of news. Parents find out about it, half the school won’t show up.”

“Now what?” Chris asked.

“Your shifts change,” June said, leaning on her desk. “Rory, you remember the lone wolf’s scent, so keep alert at school. In case he shows up as part of the student body. I’ll have my team keep looking for him.”

“Alright,” Rory got up and headed for the door. “All that running wore me out. I’m starving.”

“Rory,” June said.

“Yeah.” Rory paused by the door to look back at her.

“I heard about yesterday,” June said, making Chris stare at the floor. “My offer is still open. If you need to talk—”

“We’re all good,” Chris said getting up and coming to wrap his arm around Rory’s shoulders. “It was a stupid fight. Nothing to worry about.”

June studied them, Rory met her probing gaze and smiled.

“If you say so,” June said after a moment. “Go on, get something to eat in the kitchen. You guys did real good today.”

Chris pushed Rory to open the door and they stumbled out of June’s office heading to the kitchen.

‘She won’t stop digging about our fight,’ Chris said, using his private link with Rory. ‘We’re going to need to find a solid story.’

‘I know. She’s been at me for the last three days.’ Rory rubbed the back of his head at a loss. His mouth watering when they entered the kitchen. ‘Let’s think about that later.’

“Sure. I’m starving right now,” Chris said out loud, letting out a low whistle at the spread on the kitchen table.

Matt and Topher sat at the kitchen table, their plates filled. Rory chuckled as Chris hurried to the table. Matt got up from his seat, cuffing Rory’s neck and rubbing the top of his head, making Rory laugh.

“Get off,” Rory pushed Matt away.

“Heard you were a star earlier,” Matt teased. “We missed out.”

“Let the guy eat,” Topher said, pulling out a chair for Rory, and passing him a plate so that he could serve.

Despite his strange adventure with the black wolf earlier, Rory was glad to be part of dinnertime tonight. He didn’t want to ever fight with anyone in his family again.

***

“Hold it steady, steady,” Milan said, his voice muffled over the mask he wore. “Don’t shake, otherwise the image will come out funny.”

Rory held the frame Milan asked him to build with care. They were in the basement at the Takeda House. It was a Saturday, almost two weeks after the lone wolf saga. Rory watched Milan spray an interesting shade of green and white paint on the template he spent last evening drawing. It looked a lot like Rowen in cartoon form. Her eyes were huge, with a small smirk on her face. The drawing looked cute and funny.

The buzzing from the spray machine filled the room, there was no use talking. Rory watched Milan instead. His mate focused on the template, his hands in plastic gloves. Sweat coated Milan’s forehead, a soft sheen that had soft tendrils of Milan’s hair clinging to his skin.

Rory blew air on Milan’s forehead and smiling brown eyes glanced at him before returning to the template.

Rory smiled, thinking Milan’s eyes the most beautiful he had ever seen. He discovered something new to love each day he spent with Milan. Milan’s smile when he was drawing. Milan’s laugh when Rory said something funny. Milan’s pout when he was nervous. Milan’s touch when he took Rory’s hand, seeking warmth at the cafeteria table.

Rory remembered each one with his heart.

Milan finished spraying paint and turned off the machine. He couldn’t remove his mask yet. His mother’s orders. Keep the mask on if he wanted to play with screen paint.

“Okay, we’re going to remove the frame,” Milan said. “Lift it straight up so that we don’t mess the drawing.”

Rory did as asked, careful not to shake the frame, at the same time Milan made sure the t-shirt didn’t follow the screen template. When the frame was free, Rory placed it inside the basin with solvent that Milan prepared earlier.

Milan inspected the design on the t-shirt and gave an approving nod. His curly hair bouncing on his head. Rory removed his gloves and sunk his fingers into it, loving the softness.

“When do I get a t-shirt?” Rory asked, when Milan ducked away from him. “You’ve made one for Jack, Adam, Josh, and now Rowen. What about mine?”

“You haven’t asked for one.”

“We hang out every day,” Rory pointed out watching Milan pick up the white t-shirt from the table. Small size to fit Rowen.

He followed Milan out of the workroom designated for Milan’s artwork. They went up the stairs, and into a short corridor then entered the laundry room. Milan took the t-shirt to a line set up by the laundry room windows.

Rory watched him secure the t-shirt on the line with two pegs.

“What does hanging out every day have to do with a t-shirt?” Milan asked, turning to look at him.

“I should have been the first one to get a t-shirt.”

Milan chuckled, removing his gloves and throwing them in the laundry basket next to the washing machine. He removed his mask, and placed that in the sink. His face free from the mask, Milan faced Rory.

“But you’ve never asked for one,” Milan said.

“Do I have to ask?”

“How will I know you want a t-shirt?” Milan asked, adjusting his sweater sleeves.

“While we’re on the subject, why don’t you draw me either?” Rory demanded folding his arms against his chest. “You draw everyone else who sits with us at the lunch table. What’s wrong with drawing me?”

Milan blinked.

“You want me to draw you?”

Rory shrugged, not about to declare how jealous he was of the fact that Milan had not once drawn him. It was a thing at lunch now. Milan drew everyone they sat with, making t-shirts for all their friends. Not one line with Rory’s face. It bugged the hell out of Rory.

“Don’t you want to?” Rory asked, holding Milan’s gaze.

Milan looked away, scratching his head before he shrugged.

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” Milan mumbled, looking around the bright laundry room. He reached into his pocket and got a handkerchief, wiping away sweat from his forehead. “I thought it was cool of you not to ask like everyone else.”

“Milan.”

“Thanks for helping me downstairs,” Milan said, flashing him a smile. He stuck his handkerchief in his pocket and came to take Rory’s right hand. “Let’s do something fun now. Wanna watch a movie with me?”

“Depends on your answer,” Rory said, looking at him with a frown.

“To what question?” Milan asked.

Rory dropped his arms, leaning on the doorjamb. He leaned down so that he could look into Milan’s eyes.

“Are you making t-shirts for everyone to have them like you?”

Milan started to step away from him, but Rory reached out and placed his hands on Milan’s shoulders, stopping him.

“Sort of,” Milan answered, after a minute.

“They like you without you having to make t-shirts for everyone, you know.”

A frown crossed over Milan’s forehead, and he bit his bottom lip, worrying it.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Rory nodded. “So sure, I’m kind of jealous these days. I thought I’d get to keep you to myself, but there is all of them to contend with.”

Milan chuckled.

“I don’t mind making the t-shirts. I’ve always loved little projects to keep me busy.”

Rory sighed, and brushed a soft lock of hair away from Milan’s eyes.

“Promise me one thing.”

“What?”

“If you ever feel like they’re asking too much of you, don’t do it. Alright?”

Milan nodded and Rory sunk his fingers into Milan’s hair again with a small smile.

“Now, what movie do you want to watch? And can we get food before we watch it.”

“Howl’s Moving Castle,” Milan said, taking Rory’s arm and leading him to the kitchen.

Marie was upstairs sanitizing Milan’s bedroom and bathroom. Ilaria was doing a shift at the hospital, while Ayu had gone to school for a Saturday morning class. Marie left them to entertain themselves as they wanted as she worked around the house. So, it was as though they were home alone.

Rory opened the fridge and grinned when he saw a glass dish with lasagna on the middle shelf. Taking it out, he placed it on the counter and got a plate from the rack.

Milan perched on a chair at the kitchen table, watching Rory serve two plates before returning the dish to the fridge.

“I haven’t seen your dad around since that first day I came over,” Rory said, putting Milan’s plate in the microwave to warm it first. “Is he always so busy?”

Milan shrugged.

“He does research for the company he works for. They gave him a lab and some days he’ll sleep over if the work is important.”

“Have you been to his lab?” Rory asked, when the microwave beeped.

Rory took out Milan’s plate and gave it to Milan, careful to place it on a mat. He put his plate in the microwave and went to the fridge to pour Milan orange juice.

“No.” Milan took a fork from a container on the island table and dug into his lasagna. “I don’t like visiting Papa’s lab. It reminds me too much of a hospital. I’ve spent enough time in those.”

Rory brought a glass of orange juice to Milan, wondering how to get Milan to tell him what he was sick with. He could have easily discovered it by now. He could have asked Ilaria, Ayu, or even Marie and they would have told him. Hell even read records in this house, as he was now very welcome in most rooms.

Rory got his plate of lasagna from the microwave and came to sit next to Milan.

“You never asked again what I’m sick with,” Milan said, staring down at his lasagna when Rory settled to eat.

“You asked me to think of you as healthy,” Rory said, swallowing Marie’s delicious lasagna. He looked at Milan to find his mate watching him. “I’ll wait for you to tell me.”

Milan broke their gaze and took a small bite of his food, chewing slowly. They ate in silence for a minute, then two.

Rory wanted Milan’s trust. He needed Milan to be the one to tell him. Waiting was hard, and frustrating, yet it was all he could do.

“Remember Marie telling you that story about the raw figs?” Milan asked, keeping his gaze on his plate.

“Mm-hm,” Rory said, and kept eating, hoping to seem casual.

“Mamma and Papa lived a life of travel. Turin was sort of home base, but we always knew we couldn’t stay there longer than the months Papa’s job contracted him. As a result, in every city we lived, I only ever got treated for symptoms with no real diagnosis. As I understand it, my condition existed long before that, but it wasn’t until that fig incident that I really got diagnosed.”

Rory swallowed his food hard, and placed his fork on the plate, unable to eat more.

“I—”

Milan started, then stopped staring at his plate. His hands moved to his lap, and he took in a deep breath.

“I have CVID,” Milan said, his tone sounded so final, it hurt to listen. “Common variable immunodeficiency: basically means I don’t have a working immune system. My body can’t fight off infections without medical help.”

Rory nodded, making note to learn more about CVID. The name alone was enough to send shivers down his spine.

“Is it…curable?” Rory asked, thinking of Kiyo talking about finding a cure for Milan here.

“No.” Milan shook his head, his hands clenching on his lap. “It’s manageable though, with treatments every month. They are called infusions. That day you came here the first time, you found me getting an infusion to help boost my immune system.”

“So, the infusions keep you healthy,” Rory said.

“Yes,” Milan nodded. “The infusions wear off though. I need to get them every month to keep healthy, otherwise, I would spend most of my life in and out of hospital. A normal person is able to fight off a cold, or a stomach flu in a few days. It takes me weeks. After the flight here from Turin, I stayed in bed with pneumonia for three weeks.”

“That’s why the house is sanitized, and you wear gloves and the mask in school,” Rory said, finally understanding. “Your family is working to minimize germs.”

“Yeah,” Milan said. “I’m due another infusion in a week or so. This month has been really good to me. I’m kind of happy about that.”

“How long have you had to live this way?” Rory asked, pushing his plate away, and shifting in his chair to face Milan.

Milan’s hands were in tight fists on his lap. Rory reached out and took Milan’s right hand, covering the tight fist with his hand.

“The needles every month, for eight years, before that, I was a sickly child,” Milan said, his voice small. “I can barely believe I’m turning seventeen next month. Once, there was a doctor who didn’t think I would make it to my sixteenth year.”

“When’s your birthday?” Rory asked, his heart slamming against his chest at the thought of never having met Milan.

“February 11^th,” Milan smiled. “Three days and I would have been a Valentine’s day baby.”

Rory smiled along, squeezing Milan’s hand.

“The bullies your brother talked about, was because of the mask, and your condition, right?”

Milan nodded and looked away.

“I was a freak to them. One who couldn’t play sports, fell ill at the drop of a hat, and spent all my time in the hospital. Couldn’t even eat the nice things in school for fear of infection.”

“Milan.”

Milan shook his head and kept his gaze away from Rory, his shoulders tense.

Rory cupped Milan’s cheek and turned his face to him, his gaze taking in Milan’s shining eyes, tears brimming on the edge.

“I am a freak, Rory,” Milan said, those tears spilling over to his cheeks. “I needed you to know about me, because you’re the first friend I’ve ever made who stuck it out. I’m no fun to be around. We can’t go out like normal people. I’ll never be able to run with you, or go drinking or whatever. I’m kind of terrified you’ll walk way now that you know the truth. Still, I want you to—”

Rory leaned in then, pressing his lips to Milan’s to silence the heartbreaking tirade. He closed his eyes when Milan gasped in surprise, as Rory kissed him.

***