Monday morning, Zeke sat in his hospital bed, clean-tray empty, stomach full of powdered eggs and limp toast. He’d seen the doctor an hour ago—some young guy with too much gel in his hair—who’d given him the good news: he was healing well, no sign of infection, and barring any complications, he’d be out of here tomorrow.

Good. Because his phone was already blowing up with texts from his insurance, and the shop—what was left of it—needed about a thousand calls. Fire, police, clean-up, salvage, God knew what else.

Still, he wasn’t ready to deal with all that just yet.

Zeke shifted, wincing a little as he adjusted the angle of the bed. His phone was in his lap, but instead of diving into voicemails, he opened up his messages. Just one name on his mind.

Josh Balas.

Joey’s disaster twink of a brother.

He smirked as he scrolled to the last message. Yesterday, right before all hell broke loose, he’d sent Josh a dick pic. Not just to tease him, but to show him he wasn’t fucking around. Zeke wanted him. And if Josh was too shy to admit he wanted it too, then Zeke would drag him toward it with both hands.

It had taken over three minutes for Josh to reply. Zeke had watched the "typing" bubbles come and go, come and go—like a little digital panic attack. He would’ve killed to see the look on Josh’s face during that moment of stunned silence.

And now, for the first time since the bullets stopped flying, Zeke read his reply:

“Dude. 😳 What the hell kind of weaponized thirst trap was that?? I need a minute. Or like… seven. I’m at Wally’s. You almost made me drop a loaf of bread.”

Zeke snorted. Then smiled, genuinely. That was adorable. He tapped a quick reply:

“Hey, you free? I need a distraction.”

It didn’t take long for Josh to respond:

“Yeah. The kids are gone, for once. Do you disappear often after sending full-frontals or is that just with me?”

That surprised him. Josh actually sounded a little hurt. Huh. Zeke typed another reply:

“Only when I’m stuck somewhere without pants and decent lighting. I’m in a hospital bed right now. Getting out sometime tomorrow.”

A pause. Then Josh responded:

“…wtf?? Why didn’t you lead with that???”

Zeke’s smile grew even wider.

“I didn’t know if I could trust you yet 😏 Still don’t, really.”

Josh:

“I can keep a secret. Especially if it involves illegal shit. I don’t rat. Ever.”

Zeke let that sit a second, then, before he could overthink it, he hit call.

“Y’know,” came Josh’s voice, half-suspicious and half-smirking, “I thought maybe this was a wrong number. But nooo, it’s Captain Cockshot himself.”

Zeke barked a laugh. “You still thinking about it?”

Josh scoffed. “I ain’t blind, bro. You nearly got me banned from Wally’s for lewd behavior. You trying to start some kinda war?”

“I told you I wasn’t playing.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t think you’d send a fuckin’—” Josh sputtered, “—exhibit A of your intentions. Like damn. You’re bold as hell.”

“I’m in bed, bored, and healing,” Zeke said, letting the smile in his voice soften. “Figured I’d spice up your life.”

That earned a huff. “Yeah, well, mission fuckin’ accomplished.” Then Josh paused. “Wait. You say healing?”

Zeke shifted in the hospital bed. “Yeah. Hospital, remember?”

“For what?” Josh asked, more serious now. “What happened?”

Zeke hesitated, then exhaled. “I took a bullet to the side yesterday.”

There was silence on the other end. Then:

“The fuck you mean a bullet?”

“It’s not that bad. Grazed, mostly. I’ll be discharged tomorrow.”

Josh sounded stunned. “Jesus Christ, dude. You just casually text me a picture of your dick while you’re bleeding out somewhere?!”

“I wasn’t bleeding yet. That came after.”

Josh swore under his breath. “Okay, no. Back up. Who shot you?”

Zeke let the smile drop from his voice. “Like six guys came into the shop after we talked yesterday. Armed. Looking for Joey.”

“What?!”

“Yeah.” Zeke’s tone darkened. “I had to kill two of them. To protect us both.”

Josh was silent.

“They weren’t cops,” Zeke added. “Not part of that manhunt you mentioned. This was something else.”

Josh’s voice came back, tense. “Like what?”

Zeke hesitated again, watching the pulse monitor blink lazily beside him. “Joey and Darius have people after them. Not just the police. They got involved in some mob shit in Cleveland. I don’t know the full story.”

“…Mob shit?”

Zeke nodded, then realized Josh couldn’t see him. “Yeah.”

Josh was quiet a second. Then he asked, low: “Wait… you mean Vinnie Mancuso mob shit?”

Zeke blinked. “I think Joey mentioned that name. Yeah.”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Josh muttered. “Vinnie is top shelf crazy. Like, real-deal mob royalty. How the fuck did Joey—? I mean, I know he didn’t kill nobody, no matter what those joke-ass police say. My brother’s a lotta things, but a killer? Nah. He’s too much of a pussy.”

Zeke smirked despite himself. “You really love your brother, don’t you?”

“Of course I fuckin’ do,” Josh snapped, defensive. “I practically raised the kid! Shit, one time when he was like ten, he walked his bike into a goddamn pole and cried for an hour. I gave him half a Butterfinger and he was still hiccupin’. Like, that’s who he is. Not a killer.”

Zeke nodded. “Well, whatever happened, he mentioned your older brother. Ronnie.”

Josh went silent. Then sighed, long and tired. “Yeah. Ronnie. Figures.”

Zeke shifted the phone against his cheek. “Joey said he was working for him when this all started.”

“Yup,” Josh muttered. “I warned him. Told him not to trust Ronnie with shit.”

“You still work for him too, though.”

Another pause. “Yeah, I do. Look, it’s not like I got a fuckton of options right now, alright? Got that court case coming up—stupid-ass job site theft bullshit. I didn’t even take that much. But everyone’s treating me like I robbed a damn bank. Try getting hired with a record and charges pending. It’s a fuckin’ circus.”

Zeke listened quietly.

“And that money Joey had?” Josh continued. “Yeah, that was helpful, but it’s practically gone. Sara keeps dropping her kids off like this house is a damn daycare, and we’re blowing through diapers and hot dogs like we got six incomes. I’ve gotta pitch in and help out mom and dad. I mean, I live here now. And between that and paying for my lawyer, Ronnie’s delivery jobs are all that’s keeping me from sinking.”

“Even knowing he’s bad news?”

Josh snorted. “Hell, he’s always been bad news. You wanna story time?”

Zeke smiled faintly. “Sure.”

Josh’s voice turned grim. “Sophomore year. I was already popular and on my way to becoming a star on the football team. Then Ronnie shows up outta nowhere, talking all smooth. Says pills’ll help me focus. Says it’ll make me sharper, play better. Starts giving ‘em to me for free.”

Zeke closed his eyes, listening.

“Next thing I know, I’m hooked. Full-blown habit. And the pills stop being free. So I start selling to my friends. Then their friends. Then to everyone in town. I was king of the damn hill. Until senior year, the cops hauled me outta the locker room right before the big game. In front of everyone. Arrested me and everything.”

“Damn,” Zeke murmured.

Josh laughed, humorless. “Yeah. Still didn’t rat, though. Did my time. A whole fuckin’ year. Thought I was gonna die in there.”

“You came out stronger.”

“I came out smarter. I ain’t the same dumbass kid I was. I can handle Ronnie now. If it gets sketchy, I’ll bail. I know when I’m in too deep.”

Zeke was quiet. “Yeah, but—”

Josh cut in, almost too fast. “Hey, uh… don’t tell Joey, alright? ’Bout what I said. About Ronnie.”

Zeke blinked, caught off guard. “What, you mean—?”

“I mean he don’t know all that shit,” Josh said, his voice lower now. “Don’t know how bad Ronnie screwed me up back then. Hell, I didn’t even put it together myself ’til a couple years later. I just… I don’t want him thinking I’m weak or something.”

Zeke’s chest warmed. Something about that—Josh’s unspoken shame, the protectiveness buried under all that trash talk—got to him.

“I won’t tell him,” Zeke promised, voice soft. “That’s between you and me.”

There was silence for a second.

Then Josh muttered, “Why the hell am I even telling you all this?”

Zeke chuckled. “Because we’re getting to know each other.”

Josh laughed, caught off guard. “The hell we are.”

“You sure? You just poured your heart out. That’s practically third base where I’m from.”

“Oh my god. What are we, dating now?”

Zeke grinned. “You’re the one putting labels on it.”

Josh made a flustered sound. “Nah, nah, man—I don’t do long distance. Your profile said South Carolina.”

“I travel,” Zeke said easily, amused.

“Yeah, okay, what are you, a dick missionary? Givin’ hope to lost queers across the nation?”

Zeke burst out laughing just as the door to his hospital room swung open.

“Zeke!” came Joey’s chipper voice.

Zeke looked up, startled, spotting Joey standing in the doorway with a grin on his face and Darius hovering just behind him.

Zeke scrambled, bringing the phone up to his mouth. “Gotta go,” he whispered.

He didn’t wait for Josh to answer. He ended the call and slid the phone under the pillow, smiling a little despite himself.

“Well, damn,” he said, shifting upright. “Wasn’t expecting visitors.”

And Zeke was being honest. He really hadn’t expected to see them again.

Yesterday, after the shootout at his shop—after the blood and the smoke and the dead bodies and an army of cops—he’d watched Joey and Darius walk out the door with a vague goodbye and a bullet-riddled plan: get the evidence, clear their names, disappear.

They’d invited him to come.

But he’d said no. He’d had a business to salvage, an insurance mess to untangle, a fresh bullet wound and, at the time, the irrational belief that maybe his life would go back to normal after this.

But Joey just laughed. “S-sorry to surprise you, but we w-wanted to check on you.”

Zeke gave him a once-over. “Last I saw, you were running off to go get some holy grail lockbox.”

“Yeah, a-about that—” Joey dropped into the chair beside the bed, already bubbling with energy. “So, the safehouse? Total trap. There wasn’t a l-lockbox. It was a bomb.”

Zeke’s eyebrows lifted. “A bomb?”

“Yup.” Joey grinned, like this was a story he’d be telling around a campfire someday. “In the safe. We c-cracked it open and boom! Whole place blew up. We b-barely made it out.”

“Jesus,” Zeke muttered, his voice going dry.

“The cops were al-already outside,” Joey went on. “Had the place surrounded. We th-thought it was over for us. But then—get this—this FBI guy, Agent R-Riley, shows up, calls them off, and offers us a deal.”

Zeke gave a slow, incredulous blink. “That’s some real movie shit.”

“I know!” Joey beamed. “He wants us to go back to Ohio and f-flip some of Darius’s old mob friends. Said if we do that, he’ll c-clear our names completely. Clean slate.”

“Yeah?” Zeke’s gaze flicked to Darius, who only gave a small nod.

“He’s letting us do it our way,” Darius added. “No handlers, no handcuffs. Just results.”

“And,” Joey added, as if he’d won the lottery, “he gave us a h-hotel room and a Visa card. With actual m-money on it!”

Zeke let out a breathy laugh. He should’ve guessed. Of course Joey was already impressed by free housing and a credit limit. “Wow. Must be your lucky day.”

“Finally,” Joey said, flopping back in the chair with a dramatic sigh.

But Zeke wasn’t listening anymore. His brain had snagged on a single word.

Ohio.

Which meant Warren.

Which meant...

Zeke sat forward suddenly. “Is Agent Riley giving you a ride back?”

Joey glanced at Darius, puzzled. “Um… no? I d-don’t think so?”

Darius shrugged. “Nah. We’re still driving your car.”

Zeke looked at them both. “Then maybe I should come with you.”

Joey blinked. “Wait, what?”

“I mean, you’re already driving my car. Might as well keep me in it,” Zeke said casually, like he wasn’t offering to follow two fugitives back into the den of organized crime. “Let me tag along.”

Joey stared. “You’re serious?”

Darius frowned. “What about your shop? You said you had things to deal with—”

“Still do,” Zeke admitted. “But the doctor says I’m healing clean. No complications. I’ll be discharged tomorrow.”

“You were shot,” Darius reminded him flatly.

“And the bullet’s out. I’ve had worse hangovers.” Zeke waved it off. “I’ll make my insurance calls after you leave. But you need backup.”

Joey’s eyes widened slightly, excited now. “You wanna be backup?”

Zeke gave a lopsided grin. “Hey, I did kill two guys to save your twinky little ass. That’s gotta earn me a ride-along.”

Joey looked to Darius hopefully. “He’s g-got a point…”

Darius hesitated, but Zeke could see the wheels turning. He was weighing the pros and cons like a soldier preparing for battle.

Zeke leaned in. “Look. I’ve already proven I’m useful. You might need that again.”

Finally, Darius gave a small nod. “Fine. We’ll pick you up in the morning. After you’re discharged.”

Joey pumped both fists in the air. “Yes! We’re l-like… a team now!”

Zeke chuckled. “Dibs on naming us.”

Darius rolled his eyes. “Don’t push it.”

Joey was practically bouncing in the chair. “Oh man, th-this is gonna be so cool. I mean—dangerous. But cool. Agent Riley said w-we’re meeting with him tomorrow, before we leave. But a-after that? He said we could do things our way. Isn’t that w-wild?”

Zeke nodded, though he was only half-listening now.

Ohio.

He was going to Ohio.

And Josh was there.

He didn’t say it. Didn’t even let his smile shift. But a quiet, hungry sort of anticipation bloomed in his chest, electric and private.

Josh didn’t know it yet. But they were definitely going to meet.

And Zeke couldn’t fucking wait.

Joey and Darius stayed a few more minutes, making small talk, but eventually Darius checked his watch and stood. “We should head out. Let the nurses get back to fawning over you.”

Joey stood too, patting Zeke gently on the arm. “We’ll be back in the m-morning, okay? Try not to seduce any of the cute staff.”

“No promises,” Zeke said, voice smooth.

Darius just shook his head, smirking faintly. “You’re trouble.”

Zeke winked. “Takes one to know one.”

Joey laughed, then gave him a little wave as they slipped out the door, full of laughter and reckless hope.

Zeke leaned back against his pillows once more, heart beating a little faster.

Yeah. This was happening.

And he was ready.

As Joey and Darius’s voices faded down the hall, Zeke let the silence settle for a moment, then he reached under the pillow and pulled out his phone again.

A fresh notification glared at him.

Josh Balas:

“??? You just hung up on me like that??”

Zeke snorted, thumbs already moving:

“Sorry. Nurse came in to draw blood. I wasn’t blowing you off.”

Josh’s reply came faster than expected:

“Damn. I thought we were getting to know each other or whatever? That was rude.”

Zeke smiled slowly, letting himself picture the sulky little scowl on Josh’s face. God, he couldn’t wait to kiss that look right off him.

“Don’t worry, baby. We’ll have lots of time to get to know each other. Very soon.”

Josh’s typing bubble popped up, vanished. Popped up again.

“...what is that supposed to mean?”

Zeke leaned back against the pillows, smug as hell.

“It’s a surprise, little wild one.😉”

A pause. No reply.

Josh was probably suspicious. Maybe a little thrilled too.

Zeke decided not to press. Instead, he shifted the tone:

“I gotta make some calls to my insurance guys. Gonna be a whole thing. But we’ll talk again. Soon.”

There was a short pause. Then, unexpectedly:

“Hey… just… watch out for Joey, alright? Kid’s a pain in the ass but… he’s still my little brother.”

Zeke stared at the screen a moment, smile going soft.

“I’m on it.”

And he meant it.

There was another pause, and then, Josh replied:

“And you better not die on me or some shit. I’ll sue. Emotionally.”

Zeke laughed, the sound echoing in the quiet room. God, he really liked this guy.

“❤️”

Zeke sent the emoji without overthinking. No teasing caption. No dirty comeback. Just that. Then he tucked the phone away again, his grin refusing to fade.

Josh had no idea.

But Zeke was coming to Warren.

And he was gonna turn Josh’s trashy little life upside down.

***

Joey bounced into the hotel room ahead of Darius, key card still in hand, heart thumping with excitement. He kicked off his shoes the second the door shut behind them, still riding the high of Zeke agreeing to join their little crew.

"That went so g-good," he said, grinning. “He’s r-really gonna come with us.”

Darius gave a small nod, dropping heavily onto the edge of the bed. “Yeah. We’ll see if he can keep up.”

Joey smirked but didn’t argue. He kicked his flip-flops off near the chair, wandering toward the window while Darius pulled out his phone.

“I’m gonna call Nina,” Darius said. “Should have done it yesterday… She’s probably losing her shit.”

Joey turned around. “Ooh—put it on speaker.”

Darius hesitated, frowning. “Why?”

“I dunno. I like hearing her y-yell at you.”

Darius rolled his eyes but hit speaker anyway.

The phone rang twice before a clipped, irritated voice answered.

“About time.”

Darius leaned back on the bed, calm as ever. “Hey, Nina.”

“D. What the hell, I thought you were dead. You couldn’t send a text?”

“I’ve been busy.”

“Yeah? I saw the news,” Nina said, scathing. “Leon’s whole damn house went up in flames. They're calling it a gas leak, but I’m not stupid.”

Joey leaned in toward the phone. “Yep. And you w-were right. It was a total trap.”

“I told you not to go there.”

Joey winced. “You did. There was a b-bomb inside the safe. No evidence, just kaboom.”

“Jesus.” Nina’s voice dropped a note. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Joey said. “We barely made it out b-before the house blew. And cops were crawling everywhere.”

Darius added, “That was the bad part.”

“There was a good part?”

Joey brightened. “FBI stepped in. Agent Riley—he called them off. Said a kid n-named Tavi confessed Darius and you helped him escape Vinnie. And now they’re l-listening.”

There was a long pause.

“…Tavi named me?”

Darius nodded to the phone. “He did. Riley said Tavi told the whole story—how you and I got him out, how we tried to keep him safe.”

Joey jumped in. “And now Riley’s offering us a deal. Full immunity, cleared r-records, everything. He just needs more evidence on Vinnie and the C-Carillos.”

“…The Carillos?”

“Yeah,” Darius said. “They’ve taken over Leon’s operation. Bomb was probably theirs, too. They also sent guys after Joey right before we got there.”

Joey made a face. “I d-didn’t like that part.”

“We think Vinnie and the Carillos are working together now,” Darius said. “And Leon was going to expose both. Riley and I both think they made him disappear.”

“…Shit.”

Darius straightened. “We’re trying to bring in more evidence. Riley wants names. Connections. And you—”

“Don’t,” Nina cut in sharply. “Don’t ask me to walk into a federal building and start talking. I’m perfectly safe where I’m at right now.”

Joey lifted his hands. “N-no pressure. Just… maybe you should meet him? He’s open to w-working with us. He’s letting us do things our way… and he’s not h-hard to look at, either.”

There was a pause. Then—

“Joey…Are you trying to set me up with an FBI agent?”

Joey gave a sly smile. “I’m j-just saying. He’s smart. He’s got good instincts. And I’m s-serious, he’s like…really hot.” He gushed. “He’s got that same sort of… dangerous vibe Darius does. I th-think you’d like him.”

Nina actually laughed, low and unexpected. “Oh my God. You’re ridiculous.”

Joey beamed. “You’re w-warming up to me.”

“…Don’t get cocky.”

Darius smirked. “We’re heading back to Ohio on Wednesday. Can you meet us halfway the day after? Neutral location, of course.”

“Thursday? Neutral, where?”

“There’s a town near the southern border of West Virginia. Real small. Easy to miss if you blink. Called Hollow Creek.”

Joey’s eyes lit up. “W-wait—isn’t that where Bo and Dolly live?”

Darius shot him a look. “Shhh.”

“…Bo and who?”

“No one!” Darius said quickly.

Nina sighed. “Fine. Hollow Creek. Midday Thursday. I’ll get a room and wait for your call.”

“Perfect,” Darius said. “We’ll talk then.”

Joey piped up again. “Th-thanks for being willing. I know this probably sucks.”

“Yeah,” Nina said, softer now. “But maybe it’s time to stop hiding. Maybe it’s time Vinnie got what’s coming. And… I’m curious to meet your new friend.”

Darius chuckled. “Stay safe, Nina.”

“You too. Both of you.”

The line clicked off.

Joey turned to Darius, grinning. “S-she likes me now.”

Darius raised an eyebrow. “She tolerates you.”

“That’s basically the same thing.”

Darius snorted and stood. “We’ll tell Riley about her tomorrow. And bring Zeke with us. Make introductions, set expectations.”

Joey looked up quickly. “And what a-about Hollow Creek? Are we really going back to Bo and D-Dolly’s farmhouse?”

Darius shrugged casually. “We’ll stop by. See if they’re willing to put us up. ‘Sides we still need to finish fixing that fence.”

Joey bounced on the balls of his feet, lit up like a sparkler. “This is g-gonna be awesome!”

Darius grabbed him mid-hop, pulling him down onto the bed with a grunt and flipping them both so Joey landed underneath him with a breathless laugh.

“You know what else is gonna be awesome?” Darius growled.

Joey blinked up at him, eyes wide. “W-what?”

“We’re gonna find a Walmart later. Get road snacks, a couple supplies, maybe some spare clothes.”

Joey grinned. “Cool.”

“But first…” Darius leaned down, voice low and thick. “We fuck.”

Joey melted into him at once. “O-okay.”

Their mouths met with sudden heat, all tongue and teeth and tension, and Joey couldn’t wait to be ruined again.

***

It was Tuesday evening, and the elevator doors slid shut with a smooth ding. Darius found himself wedged in the back corner, watching the way the soft lights reflected off Joey’s golden hair as he rambled to Zeke about something completely inconsequential. Something about the vending machines. Something about Pop-Tarts.

Zeke, bandaged and slightly bruised but walking like a man with something to prove, grinned and played along. The bastard hadn’t limped once since they picked him up, not even when he pulled himself into the back seat this morning like his side hadn’t been stitched up just days ago.

Joey bounced beside him like they were on a school field trip. He looked good—vivid, alive, practically glowing under the elevator lights. His smile hadn’t dimmed all morning, and seeing it made something strange and warm twist in Darius’s chest.

It was dangerous and he almost smiled at how light Joey made him feel. How real this all was becoming.

But he forced the silly expression down. Focus, he told himself as the elevator coasted downward.

“We’re meeting the fed guy in the restaurant, right?” Zeke asked, eyes flicking to the mirrored panel beside him as he adjusted his collar.

Darius nodded. “Riley said to meet in the bar area. First floor. Keep it tight.”

“Relax, Dad,” Zeke said. “We’ll be good.”

Joey flashed Darius a grin. “We’ll be great.”

Darius sighed as the elevator doors opened, but he got out just the same, the two boys trailing after him.

The restaurant was quiet at this hour—dim wood paneling, leather booths, warm lighting glowing from brass sconces and amber-glass chandeliers. It smelled like fresh bread and whiskey. The hush of it made Darius straighten his posture as his eyes scanned the room.

They spotted Riley immediately—tall, crisp, impossibly clean-cut in a gray jacket and white shirt with the collar open. He looked tired, like he hadn’t slept properly in days. His brow furrowed as they approached. And when his eyes landed on Zeke, they narrowed.

“What the hell is this?” Riley asked, voice clipped.

Darius stopped in front of his table. “This is Zeke. He’s joining us.”

“You brought a civilian?” Riley said, blinking once, sharply. “That wasn’t part of the deal.”

“Technically,” Zeke said, sliding smoothly into the booth across from Riley, “I’m a civilian who killed two mob guys in cold blood to save the kid you’re trying to keep alive.” He stretched out his legs casually. “I feel like I should at least get a tote bag or a Hero’s patch or something.”

Riley blinked again. “Jesus.”

Joey slid in beside Zeke, barely holding back his giggle. “He’s c-cool. Promise.”

Darius sat last, beside Riley and right across from Joey. “Zeke’s been helpful. And we trust him.”

Riley leaned back, arms folded, clearly annoyed but not prepared to argue the point. “Fine. It’s your op. But don’t come crying if it blows up.”

“Been there, done that,” Zeke muttered, rubbing his ribs with a little wince.

“Right,” Riley said, shaking his head like he regretted every life decision that brought him to this moment. “So. You’re leaving tomorrow morning. I’ve arranged for surveillance detail—two unmarked cars. They’ll follow at a distance, no contact unless something goes wrong.”

Darius nodded. “Sounds good. We’ve also got a contact to meet on the way.”

Riley looked up. “Yeah?”

Darius dropped the name with measured calm. “Nina.”

Riley’s brows lifted. “Vinnie’s Nina?”

“The same. She’s open to talking. Wants to meet you halfway.”

Joey perked up. “We p-picked a town on the southern West V-Virgina border. Hollow Creek.”

Riley exhaled, nodding slowly. “Okay. When?”

“Midday tomorrow,” Darius said. “She’ll be waiting for us.”

Joey smiled brightly. “And s-she’s gonna love you.”

Riley glanced at him sideways. “Thanks?”

“I mean it. You’re s-smart. You’ve got that whole l-lawful but sexy thing going on. She’ll be into it.”

Zeke smirked, hiding a laugh behind his hand.

Riley looked like he had absolutely no idea how to respond to that.

“This is just a business meeting, Joey,” Darius said, cutting in dryly. “Try to relax.”

Joey just laughed.

Riley sighed and reached into his coat, producing a small prepaid Visa. He tossed it across the table, landing it square in front of Joey, who finally stopped laughing and snatched it up like a prize.

“Last one,” Riley said firmly. “Get yourselves to Ohio. No more shopping sprees.”

Zeke raised a hand. “What about drinks?”

“You’re impossible,” Riley muttered, already moving to get up. Darius got out of the booth so the agent could get to his feet. “I’ll see you in Hollow Creek.”

Riley walked off without another word, leaving behind his empty coffee cup and a half-dozen lingering questions none of them wanted to ask.

Joey flipped the card between his fingers as Darius took his seat again. The boy was practically humming with excitement. “So drinks are still on the table?”

“Absolutely,” Zeke said, already waving over a waiter.

Darius sighed but didn’t protest as he leaned back into the booth. He let the sounds of Joey and Zeke ordering something colorful and overpriced wash over him. The restaurant lights glinted off Joey’s lashes, made his laughter brighter, sharper, like wind chimes in summer. Zeke matched him laugh for laugh, bold and loud and completely unfazed by federal presence or looming danger.

When the drinks came, Darius took a long sip of his beer, watching them with a slow-building smile.

God.

What the hell had he just signed up for?

He didn’t know. But whatever it was—He wasn’t sorry.

***

Later that night, after a couple rounds of drinks, Zeke found himself alone for the first time since he’d left the hospital that morning.

The hotel suite had dimmed into a low, golden hush. A velvet couch—itchy and mauve, vintage enough to have probably seen its share of expensive escorts and torrid honeymoon confessions—creaked gently beneath Zeke as he shifted, one arm thrown over his eyes. A single pillow from the bed his only support. Somewhere in the background, the bathroom door was shut but not nearly enough.

Water rushed from the showerhead in fits. So did laughter. A thump. Something fell. Joey’s muffled voice: “Shut up, you s-started it—” followed by a low, growling reply from Darius that made Zeke roll his eyes and cover his face with the other arm.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered to the ceiling, “can’t even pretend to be discreet.”

Then, Zeke’s phone buzzed against his stomach.

He stared at it a second, but it was nothing important. Just a news update. But he opened his texts, next. His thumb hesitated over the thread that had been slowly growing like a weed in his inbox. A mix of short quips, awkward check-ins, and long silences. But tonight… right now? Something in him itched.

Zeke typed a quick message:

“Josh? You up?”

Josh’s reply took less than thirty seconds.

“Depends. Why? You drunk?”

Zeke smirked as he typed:

“Slightly. I needed a distraction. D and Joey are currently... very occupied.”

A pause. Then Josh’s message appeared:

“You’re ridiculous. Call me.”

Zeke didn’t even bother sitting up. He slid the phone to his ear, one hand folded behind his head.

The phone rang once before Josh picked up.

“You’re really calling me at midnight like some drunk girl in a romcom?” Josh’s voice came through, dry, but not unkind. Groggy. There was rustling, like he was shifting in bed.

Zeke grinned. “Don’t flatter yourself. I just missed the sound of your voice.”

Josh snorted, quiet but genuine. “Yeah, okay. What do you really want?”

“Just this,” Zeke said honestly. “You. Your voice. You’re weirdly comforting, Balas.”

“That’s not normal,” Josh mumbled, his voice still rough with sleep. “Most people say I stress them out.”

“You stress me out in a good way.”

That earned a pause.

“I don’t know what that means,” Josh muttered.

Zeke softened. “It means I like talking to you. End of day, quiet like this. You’re... grounding.”

Josh didn’t say anything for a beat. The silence had weight, like he was processing that.

“…Not used to this,” he said finally.

“What, late-night phone calls?” Zeke teased gently.

“No. Talking to dudes.” A pause. “Talking to... you.”

Zeke's smile lingered, lazy and fond. “You want me to stop?”

“…No.”

That answer was so soft, so honest, it made Zeke’s chest clench.

“I like hearing your voice too,” Josh added suddenly, as if he had to spit it out before he could regret it. “Even if you talk too much.”

Zeke chuckled. “You know, most people do find me charming.”

“Yeah, well. I’m not most people.”

Zeke sighed dramatically. “God, it’s so hot when you deny your feelings.”

Josh groaned. “Don’t start.”

“I’m just saying,” Zeke said, voice low and easy now. “You care.”

“Nope.”

“You do. You asked about my stitches this morning before I left the hospital. You texted me first.”

“Shut up.”

“You worry about me.”

Josh let out an exasperated breath through his nose. “Fine. Maybe I do. Maybe I don’t want you dying or getting your pretty face shot up again.”

Zeke grinned. “Aw. You called me pretty.”

“You’re so annoying.”

“You like it.”

Josh growled softly in frustration, then sighed. “Why me, huh? Do you always go for the difficult ones?”

Zeke blinked up at the ceiling. “You think I have a type?”

“I think you’re either insane or really bad at making decisions.”

Zeke chuckled. “You’re not wrong. But it’s not about type. It’s about pull.”

“Pull?”

“Yeah. You pull at me.” Zeke paused, voice dropping, more serious now. “And you have no idea how rare that is. I…haven’t felt like this in years.”

Josh didn’t reply at first. Then, quieter: “…You’re gonna fuck me up, aren’t you?”

Zeke smiled sadly. “Nah. I think we’re gonna fuck each other up equally. Mutual destruction. Very poetic.”

Josh made a sound like he wanted to protest—but didn’t. Then finally:

“You better not ghost me. Or get shot again. I don’t do well with abandonment and trauma.”

Zeke laughed into the phone, curling in slightly on the couch. “You’re such a drama queen.”

“And you’re soft,” Josh muttered. “Don’t get mushy on me.”

“You’re safe. Darius and Joey are hogging all the mush right now.”

“Gross.” Josh made a gagging noise.

Zeke smiled. “Go to sleep, Josh.”

“Call me tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Zeke said softly. “I will.”

Josh hesitated—Zeke could hear it in his breath.

“…Night, Zeke.”

“Night.”

Zeke ended the call before he could say something he’d regret.

He laid the phone on his chest and stared at the ceiling again, listening to the faint laughter and thumps coming from the bathroom.

His grin crept back, slow, but unshakable.

He was so looking forward to meeting Josh Balas. Just a couple more days now…

***

Wednesday, two minutes till noon, Darius stepped out of the hotel’s glass lobby doors into the bright, too-hot midday sun and immediately regretted not dragging Joey and Zeke out of the room an hour earlier.

Agent Riley was already there, standing beside a sleek black SUV in a dark, well-pressed suit and mirrored sunglasses, arms crossed tight over his chest like he’d been waiting for hours. And he probably had.

Riley’s voice was flat. “You all enjoy your little film festival last night? That was pay-per-view, you know.”

Darius winced. “Sorry. We…went a little overboard on the movies. Overslept.”

Riley arched a brow. “Hopefully this won’t be a repeat performance.”

“No, sir.” Darius scratched at the back of his neck, heat prickling under his collar. “Won’t happen again.”

He meant it. He felt the weight of it—this new responsibility, this uneasy alliance with the feds. Riley wasn’t some half-assed gangster. He was smart, controlled, professional. And Darius had something to prove to him. That he wasn’t just a blunt weapon who fell in love with a kid and derailed his entire criminal career. He could handle this. He could finish this right.

Behind him, the hotel doors slid open and Joey stumbled out first, blinking against the sunlight. His hair was damp from his shower, curling at the ends, and he looked soft and sleep-mussed in a pink hoodie from Walmart and shorts. Zeke followed with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, sunglasses hiding whatever bloodshot state his eyes were in.

Both of them moved with the unmistakable shuffle of hangovers.

“God, it’s hot,” Joey mumbled. “Was it this hot y-yesterday?”

Zeke yawned audibly and gave a sleepy wave toward Riley. “Hey, fed guy. You’re early.”

Darius could feel Riley’s disappointment radiating off him like a heatwave.

Zeke continued, oblivious. “We got blasted and watched Talladega Nights. Joey cried at the end.”

“I d-did not,” Joey muttered.

“You sniffled,” Zeke insisted.

Agent Riley glanced between them and then back to Darius. “This is the team you’re taking into Ohio?

“They’re more capable than they look,” Darius said, only half lying.

Riley gave a tight nod. “You’re cutting it close. You’ve got 24 hours to make Hollow Creek. We still good to meet Nina tomorrow?”

“Yes. She’ll be there around noon. She wants to talk.”

Riley hesitated for a beat. “Good. I’ll be there.”

Zeke yawned. “Road trip, woohoo.”

Joey added brightly, “We brought s-snacks this time! We barely managed to save them. Zeke r-raided the hotel breakfast bar this morning.”

“Classy,” Riley said dryly.

Darius gave him an apologetic look. “We’ll keep things tight. I’ll check in from the road.”

Riley seemed to accept that. “Two surveillance units will follow. Like I mentioned. Non-intervention unless absolutely necessary. Don’t do anything stupid.”

“We won’t,” Darius said quickly, then added, “Thanks again.”

With a final nod, Riley climbed into the SUV and drove off, leaving behind a thin scent of car exhaust and professionalism.

As soon as he was out of sight, Zeke opened the car door and flopped into the back seat like a man returning to his throne. “God, I hate suits.”

Joey crawled into the passenger seat just in front of him, pulling the Gatorade to his mouth. “Do you think he knows we drank from the mini fridge too?”

“Oh, he knows,” Darius muttered.

While the other lounged in the car, Darius made sure everything was loaded into the hybrid, then he took the driver’s seat, grateful for the excuse not to talk. Joey sat beside him with an open bottle of Gatorade and Zeke was collapsed in the back like a cat settling into a sunbeam. He had his earbuds in and was scrolling on his phone with a quiet little smirk on his face.

As they pulled away from the hotel, Charleston slowly receded behind them. The beach faded. The ocean breeze was replaced by dry, sun-baked wind rushing through the open windows. They passed rows of palm trees and golden-tipped grasses, the kind that waved lazily in the heat, as the highway opened wide ahead of them.

You wouldn’t know it from the weather, but next week was the last of October, Darius thought as he glanced at the dashboard clock. Halloween was just around the corner. Funny how time kept moving like nothing was happening—like they weren’t running from a mob, working with the FBI, stitching together a fragile dream of freedom with each step.

As he turned onto the highway, Darius watched the road open up in front of them, golden grass and rust-colored trees rolling by like the start of a new chapter. When he glanced in the rearview mirror, he caught sight of one of the black sedans a few car lengths behind them. Just as Riley promised. Watching. He didn’t know how to feel about it, but it was definitely the start of something new.

The car was quiet for a moment, just the hum of tires and the distant beat of music from Zeke’s phone.

Darius exhaled slowly. They had just over 24 hours to get to Hollow Creek. Enough time to rest stop. A proper meal. Maybe even a chance to breathe.

He glanced over at Joey, who had his head leaned against the window, a faint smile still on his lips despite the headache he was surely nursing.

Then he looked at Zeke in the mirror, lounging like a smug little devil, texting god-knows-who.

And Darius thought—These two idiots were his now. And for better or worse, they were a team.

He gripped the wheel tighter, focused on the road ahead.

“Let’s go,” he murmured to no one. “Time to finish this.”