Page 87 of Inextricably Tied

Flint

All three of them crowd into the motel bed. “It makes more sense for you to be on one side,” Harbinger mutters to Flint. It’s unfortunate that she’s right, because pressing up against Agony seems like tempting fate, forcing Flint to look at exactly what’s stirring in his chest.

Harbinger slides between them, her back against Flint’s chest, breath evening as she drifts off. Exhausted from an orgasm wrung out of her through Agony, who’s staring at Flint over her hair. Flint scans the wall for anything else he can focus on, counting patterns on the wallpaper.

“That’s one of the weirder ones.”

Agony’s voice is an intrusion. Flint follows his eyes to the picture hanging above the TV stand, still crooked from Harbinger. It’s a mountainous landscape, vast and open with no other sign of life. No birds. No deer. No people.

“Kind of ominous.”

Harbinger rolls over with a snuffling sound, nuzzling her back into Agony’s chest. He lifts his hand to the side of her face, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I won’t hurt her.” Agony’s voice doesn’t tilt with a sneer, soft against the back of Harbinger’s hair. There’s something impossibly fragile about the sight of Agony curved around her, her peaceful face beneath the curl of his fingers. “And I won’t hurt you, either.”

Flint’s lip quirks, voice as low as he can manage. “I’m not too worried about you getting through the rock armor.”

Another tendril of Harbinger’s hair slips through Agony’s fingers. “I don’t mean like that.”

Watching Agony and Harbinger’s breaths slip into sync, it’s too easy for Flint to fall asleep. Much harder to wake with his arm and wing draped over both of them, foreheads pressed together. He maneuvers out of bed, leaving the two of them entwined, and realizes for the first time in months that there’s no leftover tension in his neck.

The three eat lunch at the ferry dock, passing time as the sun blazes overhead. Harbinger props their cell phone against her cup, switching it to speaker. “We’ll be out of cell range, but I’ll call once we’re back. No more than a week.” She rifles for fries in a paper bag. Agony threatens the gulls circling overhead.

“Ok.” Evie’s mother closes a cabinet door on the other end of the line, oil sizzling in the background. “We’ll do some spells for you tonight: discovery, protection…” One of her children asks for their lunchbox. She points it out with fond exasperation.

Harbinger smiles. “Thank you. We appreciate it.”

As soon as the call ends, the phone rings again. Restricted number. OID. Harbinger declines it, taking a long swig from her cup. Her throat’s surely raw from the last two hours of talking. Flint and Agony had their turns as well, but with one phone, calling families was a lengthy process.

“Last call?” Flint asks. Agony offers barbecue sauce across the picnic table. Harbinger dips her fry in as he coats his chicken nugget in mustard. Flint scoffs his distaste. “That’s disgusting.”

They take identical bites and moan. Flint rolls his eyes toward the station clock to hide his smile. “Ferry should be here in a minute.”

They clean up their trash as the boat pulls up to the dock. The ferry’s built to fit a couple of cars, but as the only passengers, their journey’s particularly cozy. As the ferryman chats to Flint about the Break’s latest news, Agony and Harbinger set out to determine who’s the better cheat at Sidi’s card game.

Once they land in the Break, they take the SUV through winding hills up to the base of a mountain. A range extends around them, but the Timber Pack resides on a slope, nestled between pine trees and a lake. The air stings with cold. When they pull up, Agony hoists himself out of the backseat to help Harbinger into an oversized jacket. Flint tugs on a knit sweater.

The Timbers’ main building looks like a small ski lodge with wooden A-frame cabins dotted around it. Despite the cold, wild blue iris blooms, vibrant against the dark earth.

Flowers like that spilled out of Sidi’s hands once. She maneuvered for a vase in the kitchen, leaving Flint to recover stray petals. And later, her cold fingers curled around those flowers pressed against her chest, eyes closed…

“Flint?”

Agony and Harbinger watch him from beside the car. Flint considers not saying anything, shaking off the thought as he always has and sinking back into stoicism. But he peers at the blooms once more. “Sidi liked those.”

Wind rushes through the tops of the trees, rustling leaves beginning to die. Agony and Harbinger stare solemnly at the patch of color before Agony plucks two stems from the ground. He extends the flower to Flint, the smallest bow in his posture.

It’s far more earnest than a simple gesture. The flower fits in Flint’s hand, small and delicate when he closes his fingers around it. With a far grander dip, Agony turns to Harbinger. “M’lady.” She shoves him with a smile, tucking the flower into the helmet cradled under her arm.

“Wait.” Flint steps forward, wrapping his fingers around the chain linking Agony’s hands. “Before we go in…”

Harbinger’s eyes widen before she nods. Keeping Agony contained was necessary to avoid collateral damage, but it’s long past time to admit he isn’t the depraved creature Flint expected. And with all this open space, Agony could make a break for the horizon and never encounter another person.

With a claw, Flint slips beneath the cuffs, metal groaning as he slices through. The chains thud to the ground, and Agony becomes nebulous, rubbing his wrists incredulously.

“Requires trust, right?” Flint murmurs.

He resists the urge to pull Harbinger toward him, but Agony doesn’t move, shadows shifting like sun dappling through trees. “You seem surprised.”