Dan scoffs, appearing amused against his will. “Must drive Jack fucking mental.”
I let my smile spread out into a full grin. “I can only hope so.”
Dan makes what seems to be an involuntary bark of laughter. He pushes his mouth against his bent knee to stifle it, looking vaguely perplexed at how he’s allowed himself to get to the point where he’s let his defenses down low enough to do that.
“You can’t trust me,” Dan says out of nowhere, his expression having returned to something far more serious. It’s nice of him to warn me again. He’s very protective, just like Jack. It warms me to think of that similarity between them and only further convinces me I’m making the right choice in wanting to help him.
It’s true, though, that he still has that wildness around the eyes, something untethered and chaotic writhing just below the surface of all this fake civility. One thing I do believe is that Dan is a dangerous man, more so than he’s let me see so far, for sure. It’s different than it was with Jack because Dan had his mind ripped to pieces and stitched back wrong by OI, and we don’t know what bullshit they used as thread or which memories they patched together to create a distorted version of reality for Dan. He’s right: I can’t trust him.
“But you can trust me,” I say.
Dan shakes his head sharply, throwing off the statement like it would burn his skin if he let it settle, if he allowed himself to truly believe it.
“You’re his.” Dan jerks his chin at the door, presumably meaning his brother. “And I can’t trust him.”
“Because you think he left you?”
“He did leave me,” Dan says bitterly, “and then he found you.”
Sympathy pangs in my chest for both of them. Everything OI has torn away from these men throughout their lives, and they still found a way to steal more.
“He thought you were dead, Dan. I don’t know what crap it was that OI told you, but come on, if there’s one thing you know for fucking certain, it’s that you can’t trustthem.”
Dan remains quiet for so long that I start to think he won’t respond, his face wiped clean of expression, almost vacant as if he’s at risk of drifting away from the conversation and never finding his way back.
“It feels so real though,” he admits, the flayed-open vulnerability in his voice startling. “I just … Every time I look at him, it feels like I want to put a bullet in his skull, like I want to punch my fist into his chest and rip his heart out and watch him die, choking on his own blood. If that’s what they put inmy head? Then I still can’t be around him, because I’ll hurt him, Leo. I will. Not because OI told me to, but because Iwantto.”
Dan’s arms have gotten tighter and tighter around his legs the more he talks, his fingers digging into his biceps so hard they’ve drained of blood and gone completely white. There’s still no expression on his face, every emotion locked down behind it, but he can’t hide the very real fear in his eyes. He’s afraid of himself, of the seeds OI planted in his head now that they’ve grown into something with roots he can’t dig deep enough to pull out cleanly. Terrified of what he might do, what he wouldn’t ever be able to take back.
“Alright, I get it,” I say gently. “If it’ll help, we’ll keep you separated for now.”
Dan seems surprised by my easy acquiesce. “Are you going to be the one to tell him?”
“Yeah,” I reassure him, “and he’ll listen to me because he loves you. More than anything.”
“Not more than you,” Dan argues, shooting me a reproachful look, like it’s offensive to suggest otherwise.
I nudge his arm again, making an attempt to tease him. “It’s not a contest.”
But Dan isn’t ready to stop being serious yet. “If it were me,” he says solemnly, “I’d choose you.”
I blink at him, unsure how to take that. “What?”
Dan rolls his eyes, like I’m being purposefully obtuse. “If I were him, and I had to choose between a brother who’s fucked in the head and wants to kill him and a boyfriend who’s willing to put his life on the line to save both of us, I’d choose you, no question.”
I smile to myself, imagining Jack’s reaction to that, knowing full well what his response would be to anyone pushing him to make a choice like that.
“Yeah, well, Jack’s more stubborn than you. And greedier. He wants to keep his reckless boyfriendandthe brother who wants to kill him. We’rehispeople, and you know he’s a possessive bastard.”
“Right, right,” Dan says, one half of his mouth cutting up into a dangerous smirk. “You should probably stop flirting with me, then.”
“Oh, yeah,” I scoff, giving him the full weight of my disapproval in a flat stare, “that’s all been coming from me.”
Dan doesn’t falter an inch, obviously pleased that he’s found another way to be annoying. “Bet you flutter your eyelashes at anyone with a nice pair of legs and a pretty face, yeah?”
“Piss off,” I reprimand playfully. “Don’t ask Jack; he’ll only tell you some bullshit stories about flight attendants and shop assistants.”
That seems to delight Dan even more. “You do have a slaggy vibe, Leo, not gonna lie.”
