Rogue - Jericho's Boys #2 - ch. 20 (Patreon)

Brace yourselves. We're almost there. Unbeta'd/Unedited

Shiloh

Shiloh’s head pounded, literally. It was like tiny fists beating on the inside of his skull, making him flinch with every hit. Every time he thought it was over, it started again. After what felt like forever, he dragged his eyelids open, listening intently. He could hear someone in the living room, but otherwise the house was silent. He flopped onto his back, wiping at the saliva on his chin in disgust. He’d been sleeping so hard. He probably looked a mess. He still held his phone clenched in his other hand.  Had he fallen asleep scrolling or waiting for Levi to call?

He couldn’t remember. He blinked the sleep from his eyes, then slid open his phone, waiting for the numbers to crystalize. Should Levi have called by now? Was he on his way to get them? He chewed his lip at the thought. Could he stand there and watch as Mal killed Micah? Should he feel some kind of way about it? He didn’t feel disgust or sadness. More than anything, he was just afraid. Afraid Micah would somehow escape death yet again.

He threw his feet over the edge of the bed and stumbled into the small living room. He jumped as a fist beat on the door, his heart racing. He looked at Nico with wide eyes but he was staring through the peephole.

“Who is that?” Shiloh asked, voice wavering.

“Go away, Naomi. He’s not here,” Nico shouted.

Shiloh winced, looking down at his bruised wrist, rubbing it absently. The noise stopped abruptly, but Nico continued to look. Finally, he turned to Shiloh and plopped down on the sofa, bouncing a bit before he settled.

“Does she do that a lot?” he asked, floating closer.

Nico shook his head. “Nah. Honestly, I didn’t think she even knew where we lived. Before the hospital, she was practically a shut-in. The furthest she’d venture from her apartment was to the bar on the corner or, if she was really desperate, the bodega a few blocks down the road. Mostly she just waits until Levi’s at work and then guilts him into buying her beer so she doesn’t die.”

Shiloh’s heart twisted at that. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that Levi had to make those kinds of decisions. It wasn’t fair that he had to choose between his mother’s life and his own mental health. What kind of choice was that?

“I wish there was something I could do, you know?” Shiloh said.

“We tried getting her help a million times. She doesn’t want to get better. The amount of times she’s failed out of rehab is crazy, really. She always checks herself in, does the tearful goodbye, swears she’ll change, then checks herself out within a day.”

“I meant for him,” Shiloh clarified. “To make him feel better? To…help?”

Nico gave him an odd look. “You are helping.”

“I am?”

“Yeah, since you showed up, this is the first time Levi has ever that he hasn’t given in. He has tried to go no-contact before. A million times. It’s just this never-ending cycle. He makes it a few days, then unblocks her number because he’s afraid she’s dead and he won’t know. Then she calls, he answers, she tells him that she needs him, that she loves him…the usual. It’s the guilt that eats at him. If Naomi doesn’t get alcohol, she’ll have seizures, if she has a seizure, she might die. If she dies, then Levi is the root cause of her demise. At least in his mind.”

Shiloh’s eyes filled with tears. He ached for him. It wasn’t right. “I still don’t understand how I’m helping?”

“He’s never gone this long before.He’s never stuck to his guns like this. He told me she grabbed you. I think knowing she could hurt you—someone he loves—was the final push. It’s one thing if he’s the one she’s hurting, it's a whole other if it’s you.”

Shiloh’s mouth fell open, blinking back the wetness in his eyes. He was not going to cry about this. He refused. But he understood. He and Levi were kindred. Soulmates. Both of them are willing to sacrifice themselves for the sake of others. Levi was perfect, his soul was as beautiful as the rest of him. Shiloh didn’t deserve that kind of radiance in his life, but he was selfish enough to keep it anyway.

To keep him anyway.

He opened his mouth to ask Nico whether he’d heard from Levi, but the knocking started again. This time it was a monotonous thumping sound, the same rhythm, the same intensity, like a machine, just knocking again and again.

Nico blew out an angry breath through his nose, then forced himself to stand, crossing the short distance back to the door. “She’s relentless,” he muttered.

They both stood there, motionless. Shiloh didn’t know what they could do. “Won’t someone, like, call the cops?”

Nico snickered. “We’re in the hood, babe. Nobody calls the cops unless they need a body carted away or someone is actively in the process of murdering them. People mind their business around here.”

“Oh.”

Nico lasted about three minutes, before his patience got the better of him. He whipped the door open. “I’m serious, Naomi. Go away. Go to the homeless shelter. Nobody is giving you alcohol or money. Don’t come back.”

He slammed the door in her face before she could respond, clicking the bottom lock then peeking out once more. He rolled his eyes as her pitiful voice came through the door muffled, but clear enough to understand. “Please, Nico. I know you have something in there. You’re college kids. I just need one beer. Just one. Then I’ll leave, I promise.”

Nico turned to face Shiloh, then leaned on the door hard. He closed his eyes like he was steadying himself. His voice sounded a little weaker than a moment ago when he called, “Go away or I’ll call the cops.”

They both waited, holding their breath. After a minute, he looked again and sagged against the door. “She’s gone…for now.”

“I’m glad Levi isn’t here for this,” Shiloh said. “Just seeing her hurts him. I think seeing how sick she looked today fucked him up a little. I know he sees her often, but probably not like she is now.”

Nico nodded, his eyes suddenly red. “She used to be really pretty. When we were younger, I used to think Levi looked just like her, except for maybe the eyes, which were his father’s. That seems like forever ago. Back when she could still work sometimes. When she was still trying to be a functioning alcoholic. She was already hurting Levi back then, but I didn’t know it. None of us did. He always kept that stuff to himself.”

Shiloh sniffled, then swiped at the sudden wetness on his cheeks. Nico blinked, turning away from him, maybe trying to pull himself together too.

Shiloh’s phone chirped. A little thrill went through him when he saw a text from Levi. Just three words.

On my way.

Shiloh: Are you coming to get us?

Shiloh’s heartbeat raced while he watched three dots dance, then disappear. Dance, then disappear. His excitement soured as Levi’s answer didn’t come, leaving his stomach slippery. Something definitely wasn’t right.

“Did something happen out at the cabin?” Shiloh asked Nico, eyes still glued to those three dancing dots.

Nico’s silence stretched a beat too long before he said, “What? What do you mean?”

Before Shiloh could respond, Levi’s new text arrived, the words only worsening that roiling feeling in his tummy.  We’ll talk when I get home. Signal’s spotty. Love you.

Shiloh stared at the text.

We’ll talk when I get home.

We’ll talk when I get home.

We’ll talk when I get home.

His love you sounded more like the period at the end of a sentence then a declaration of his feelings. It was like he just wanted to end the conversation.

Shiloh finally looked up. Nico seemed to be trying to make himself as small as possible. “Did you talk to him while I was sleeping?”

“Maybe you should ask Malachi?” he said, his voice an octave higher than it had been just a moment before.

“I’m asking you.” Shiloh frowned, looking around, realizing she hadn’t seen or heard from her brother since this whole conversation began. “Where is Mal?”

Nico grinned, seemingly excited to talk about anything else but Levi. “He was taking a shower…now he’s just like…primping?”

“Primping?” Shiloh repeated. “What is…primping?”

Nico shrugged. “My mom used to use it a lot when I was little. You know, like when girls do like face masks and hair stuff. Mal shaved and then went nuts using all the skin care and hair care stuff under our bathroom sink. It’s stuff Felix dumps on us all the time ‘so we don’t look like a leather sofa by the time we’re forty or whatever. We’ve never opened most of it. Mal called it self-care.”

Yeah, that was Mal. He would kickbox for two hours each morning, then go to dance practice and then put on a face full of makeup before going to a club. There was no rhyme or reason to Mal. One day he was joggers and snapbacks, staring people down menacingly. The next he was wearing leather and lace, staring at people seductively and slinking along like a cat. Mal just woke up and shimmied into a new person every morning. Shiloh envied him.

“I think he missed all that when he was in prison. I doubt there’s a lot of hair-care options at the commissary, no matter how much money was on his books,” Shiloh said wistfully. Then his shoulders came up, his head whipping around to Nico.  “Wait. Why is Mal in there…primping or whatever, if Levi’s coming to get us to take us to Micah to…off him or whatever?”

Nico sagged with relief as Mal opened the bathroom door, dressed in nothing but a towel slung low on his hips and another wrapped around his hair. Nico wolf-whistled. Mal preened, adding a little sway to his hips as he walked to Nico’s room.

His hand was on the doorknob when Shiloh touched his arm. “What’s going on?”

Mal turned, looking down at Shiloh, doing that slow-blinking thing he did when he was recalculating. “Globally? Regionally? Locally? With the world? Here? Now? Me?.” he frowned. “Be specific.”

Shiloh huffed out a breath through his nose. This was the problem with having a brother like Mal. Ninety-five percent of the time, he couldn’t help but be difficult, but times like now, where Shiloh knew he was pretending to misunderstand, just to get out of talking to him…it made him want to scream. Just a little. “With Levi,” he said through clenched teeth. “Why are you getting all dolled up to off our brother? Are you planning on taking commemorative photos or something?”

Mal opened the bedroom door and stepped inside, then turned to look down at Shiloh with a placid smile. “Let me put some clothes on, doodlebug and I’ll be right with you.” He closed the door almost all the way then opened it again. “Also you shouldn’t clench your teeth like that. I have a feeling we’re about to lose our dental insurance.”

Shiloh’s mouth fell open as he stared at the closed door. When he heard Nico’s laugh, he turned hostile eyes his way.

“What the fuck is going on?” he shouted into the air. Maybe the universe would help him out.

“I think you just need to chill-”

Shiloh cut Nico off, his blood thrumming with building anger. “I do not need to chill. I need someone in this fucking house to answer my question before I really lose my shit.”

“Mal said he’d tell you as soon as he got dressed,” Nico said, like he thought that was in any way helpful.

Shiloh opened his mouth to kindly tell Nico to fuck off, when the pounding started again, setting his teeth on edge. This was all too much. He clenched his fists, digging his nails into his palms, hoping the pain would drive back the panic attack he could most definitely feel building in his system.

Nico glanced at the peephole, his sigh confirming it was once again Naomi. “Maybe she’ll just go away on her own?”

Shiloh tried to ignore the banging, even though it felt like a thousand ants swarmed around his lungs. “I’m serious, Nico. What the fuck is going on? Somebody needs to tell me something right fucking now because I’m starting to freak out.”

Nico flailed his hands, looking conflicted. “Levi wants to tell you himself.”

“Tell me what?” Shiloh shouted. The knocking stopped. Shiloh gave Nico an imploring look. “Just say it. Please?”

He deflated. “Fine. Micah-”

Shiloh gasped as the knocking started once more, but this time dialed to a hundred, so loud Shiloh fought the urge to clap his hands over his ears. It was faster too, sending his heart rate into the stratosphere. It was like she was beating both hands against the door. When he thought it couldn’t get any worse, she started shouting over the racket. “I’m not leaving until you open the door. I know you’re in there. I can do this all night.”

Shiloh snapped. He shoved Nico out of the way, unlocking the door then ripping it open. “What do you want?”

Naomi was so surprised she almost fell inside, would have too, if a much larger figure hadn’t sent her flying further into the hallway. Shiloh choked on a cry as a gun was shoved into his face.

Nico made eye contact as Shiloh stumbled back but he only managed to say “What?” before the door smashed into his face, blood gushing from his nose.

He stumbled, holding his nose. His eyes went wide as he saw Micah. And the gun. He tried to rally, but Micah struck him with the gun grip so hard it made a sickening thunk. Nico went to his knees, conscious but just barely.

Shiloh’s phone was in his room. He could call the police. He took off running while Micah had eyes on Nico. If he could just get the door shut, maybe Mal would hear him. Maybe Mal was calling—

Shiloh whipped around as soon as he was in Levi’s room, putting all his weight on the door but it was no match for Micah, he shouldered it open with so much force it ripped the top hinge and sent the door sagging inwards. Shiloh heard someone scream and it took a second before he realized it was him.

Then Micah was on him, pressing him into the bed, shoving the barrel of the gun between his teeth. Shiloh’s stomach heaved at the taste of metal and gun oil on his tongue, his teeth clacking painfully. His vision pinholed until all he could see was Micah and the gun. Until all he could think about was Micah and the gun.

He froze, eyes wide, staring up at his brother’s face, eyes wild, his grin twisted. He looked like a monster. He was a monster. Not even human. This was how he died? On Levi’s bed? Tears sprang to his eyes. Levi was going to blame himself. His hands flinched, not intentionally, just some kind of panic response, but it was enough to have Micah wrapping his hand around Shiloh’s throat, squeezing slowly, as he turned the barrel of the gun this way and that, the clacking against his teeth making Shiloh’s skin crawl.

Please don’t let him break my teeth again.

Micah leaned forward, his lips against Shiloh’s ear. “What’s the matter, doodlebug?”

Shiloh hated the keening sound that ripped from his throat. Micah sat back to laugh at him. “You’re so pathetic. You didn’t really think I’d be stupid enough to fall for your little setup…did you?”

How fast could someone’s heart beat before they just died of a heart attack? Shiloh wasn’t sure which was preferable. Being shot in the face or having his body just give up on him. He whimpered as he heard the click of a hammer cocking back, squeezing his eyes shut.

He waited for the gunshot. Would he be dead before he heard it? But instead, what he heard…was Mal? “Hey, big brother,” he purred. “You’re such a narcissist. You didn’t really think I’d be stupid enough to leave Shiloh here alone, did you?”

Shiloh’s eyes flew open just as Nico brought something heavy down on Micah’s head, then he became dead weight. They dragged him off of Shiloh, Nico immediately yanking a cord from the lamp and securing his hands. Mal was on top of him, hovering over him, turning his face left and right. “Did he hurt you?”

Shiloh shook his head but when he tried to speak all that came out was another pathetic noise. Shiloh couldn’t stop shaking. He let Mal help him sit up.

Mal looked to Nico. “Any suggestions?”

“Look, the neighbors aren’t busy-bodies, but I think it’s safe to say Micah made a big enough racket for someone to call the cops. We have got to get him out of here before they show up.”

Mal didn’t argue, just slid his arm around one of Micah’s bound arms and heaved when Nico did the same, getting him to his feet.

“Wait, we can’t just go out the front door,” Mal said.

“The tunnels,” Nico recalled. “We’ll call Jericho from the basement, have someone come get us. Come get him.”

They took the lead, Shiloh stumbling behind, absently noting Naomi on the kitchen floor clutching a bottle of wine in her hands. He tried to keep up, even with his mind in safe mode, doing only the bare minimum to keep his body moving. Everything seemed miles away, the hum of equipment, the hiss of some kind of pressure valve, even Nico and Mal’s voices. It was like he was at the bottom of a swimming pool, or a bomb had gone off right beside him.

They stopped just outside the basement door, dropping Micah on his face before Nico grabbed his phone from his back pocket. Shiloh just stood there, blinking. It was like he was in slow motion. Everything slowed way down. Shiloh sagged against the wall, only half listening.

“Jericho? We’ve got Micah. Pick us up outside the tunnels?”

“What?” Jericho shouted. “What do you mean you have him?”

“Yeah, what do you mean,” Seven shouted.

Then suddenly Levi’s voice was right there. “Where’s Shiloh.”

“He’s here,” Mal said. “He’s fine. Physically anyway, but I think Micah scared the fuck out of him. He’s…not all there.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Levi shouted. “Give him the phone. Now.”

“Okay,” Mal said, taking Shiloh’s hand and placing the phone into it. Shiloh looked down at it but didn’t move. “He has the phone.”

“Shiloh, baby. Are you okay? Can you hear me? Can you talk to me?” Shiloh opened his mouth, but nothing happened, so he just closed it again. “Baby, you’re scaring me. I’m going to have someone come get you and then I’ll meet you there. Okay?”

Shiloh noted how frantic Levi sounded. He just felt buzzy. Numb. Everything tingled. “‘kay,” Shiloh said thickly, tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth.

“What’s the ETA on getting us the fuck out of here?” Nico asked.

“Twenty minutes tops. We’ll meet you at the rendezvous point,” Jericho said.

The phone disconnected.

Micah groaned, flopping onto his back. Shiloh plastered himself against the wall. Micah watched Shiloh cower and began to laugh. A blistering heat raced through Shiloh, a rage so thick it choked out every rational thought he’d ever had. Micah’s laugh felt like it was echoing in his skull. He was laughing at him. Again. He was always laughing at him.

You’re pathetic.

You’re embarrassing.

You’re so easy to break.

Poor little crazy Shiloh.

Nobody will love you once they know.

Micah locked eyes with him. “No matter what you do, or where you go, I’ll always be there. A voice in your head.”

Shiloh lunged at him with a sound that was barely human, his bare foot slamming into his face again and again until he could feel blood squishing between his toes. He could feel hands on him, trying to pull him off, but he wasn’t done. Micah was still alive, still laughing, still taunting him.

When he slipped in the blood, he scrambled on top of him before he could somehow gain the upper hand. His face was red but he was covered in blood as thick as syrup, so much blood it looked like a movie prop, but he could still hear him laughing. How was he still laughing? Shiloh clawed at his face and eyes, tore at his throat, his lips, his ears, even his hair.

Mal and Nico pulled at him, but their touch was nothing, like flies buzzing around him. They begged him to stop but he could barely hear them over the fevered sounds escaping with each breath and Micah’s maniacal laughter in his ears. They wanted him to stop. But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. His whole world consisted of only one thing; tearing Micah to shreds with his bare hands. And he wouldn’t stop until Micah was no longer capable of laughing at him ever again.

Something heavy draped over him. He struggled, but nothing helped. Then everything went black.