Page 121 of Lone Star

“Stop,” Tenny repeated, eyes wide, jaw trembling, breath rattling.

Fox let the boredom drop off his face. He’d looked in the mirror enough times over the course of his life to know what his real resting face looked like – mostly like Tenny’s did, like Reese’s did, when they were listening, and not putting on a front. That inhuman, predatory flatness. The sight of it alone had the last bit of color draining out of Ten’s face.

He pulled his boots down off the bed and sat forward. “It hurts, doesn’t it? Feeling useless? Feeling lesser? You were bred and raised for one thing, for one purpose; all that training, all those skills spoon-fed to you along with your ABCs, that was for your handlers, for the people who changed your nappies and taught you how to use a gun and convinced you that you weren’t a person at all – how could you be, people have names? – and that your sole reason for existing was serving them. And now they’re gone. They’re gone because of me, because of this club, and now you’re serving us, and it was all a lie, wasn’t it?”

He didn’t askwhat?His whole body was trembling now, his jaw clenched tight, despite the pain it caused. The heart monitor pinged as his pulse accelerated. But the question was there in his gaze, alongside the hate.What was a lie?Even though he already knew.

“It turns out they weren’t God, were they? Just a bunch of fat old men too out of shape and clumsy to do the dirty work that you did. They didn’t care about you. You weren’t important to them. You weren’t saving the country or whatever bollocks they fed you your whole life. They could be beaten, and they were.

“Your contempt for Reese,” he pressed on, talking low, and fast, watching Ten’s nostrils flare, his gaze flicking back and forth, looking for an escape route. Ten’s hands were fists, now, the needles in the backs pulling against the skin; a bead of blood leaked out and ran down his knuckles. “That’s not about his skills or his training. It’s about the fact that, not long ago, someone offered Reese the choice to betray his masters and break free, and he took it, willingly. It’s about the fact that he isn’t furious every bloody second. He knows who he is, and he isn’t having a bloody identity crisis like you.”

Tenny bared his teeth. “You don’t–”

“I don’t know? Oh, I assure you that I do. You might be good – you might be fantastic – but you’re also young, and stupid, and hurting right now, and I’ve been at this a lot longer than you. You’re good, but I’m better, and if you’d stop acting like a goddamn moody teenager after a breakup, you’d see that and listen to what I tell you. Wouldn’t get yourself shot that way.”

He sat, unblinking, gaze fixed, and watched Tenny wrestle with himself another long, pained moment. Then all the tension bled out of him on a deep exhale and he closed his eyes – closed them tight, little lines at the creases. The part of Fox that wasn’t enraged at the boy felt sorry for him; he himself had never quite fit in anywhere, but Ten had been dropped straight into the deep end of the Real Person pool without a life jacket, and he was drowning. No amount of training in the world could prepare you for havingfeelings, something Fox knew well.

Fox sat back, and softened his tone. “Truth told, I’m still having some trouble lately. Learning about Dad.”

He waited, and after a moment, Tenny’s eyes cracked open, curious despite his best efforts.

Good, Fox thought, and restrained a smile. One that wouldn’t have lasted anyway, not while thinking about Devin. “I always knew he was a wanker – or, well, not literally, he was putting it somewhere, with nine – ten – children out there in the world. I hated him. I hated him because I loved him when I was a kid, but I could tell he never loved any of us.”

Tenny’s eyes opened a little further, and Fox couldn’t believe he was saying any of this out loud; he didn’t even allow himself to examine it so frankly in his head. It seemed necessary, though; he wasn’t playing in his own mental sandbox, but using his experiences to teach his brother a valuable lesson.

“I worshipped him when I was little, you know? It was just me and Mum all the time, my mates at school, and their fathers were all getting beer guts and worrying about the stock market and spending all weekend in front of the telly watching football. I used to want that – God, did I. To have a real dad, someone to take me down to the comics shop on weekends. A man of the house to–” He cut himself off, abruptly, his throat tight, keenly aware of Ten’s stare, now.

“I wanted to be like the other kids,” he said. “Normal. But then Dad would come waltzing in every few weeks, and Mum would get all giggly, and it was like he’d never left. He had this way about him, especially when he was younger – pulled every eye in a room. Winked at pretty girls, and smirked at everybody, and drew people to him. Magnetic. Tommy’s got the non-lethal version of that charm, and half the brains. Walsh’s got more of the real thing, though he doesn’t use it. A real waste, that. He could have been on my level if he’d ever bothered to play the game. I don’t really know where Phil came from, Mr. Responsibility. And Shane’s justsoft. Raven, now – she’s wicked.” He grinned, thinking of his oldest sister. “And Chelle’s full-up of the Green blood. Albie…”

He caught himself again. His accent was getting thicker, less polished.

He sighed, and met Ten’s gaze head-on. “Albie’s the best of both worlds, I suppose. Normal. Makesfurniture– forfun, I think. But he’s got a basement full of guns, too.”

Tenny looked close to fascinated.

“They’re all stupid, and they drive me nuts, and they can’t stand me, really, but they’re my family. They’re your family, too. Welcome to this fucked-up bunch, I guess.

“My point is, I wouldn’t have gone after the shooter. I would have saved your sorry ass same as Reese did, because whatever else you are, you are my brother, and that means something. If you’d stop being so angry all the time, it could mean something to you, too.”

Tenny stared at him a moment, then blinked and looked up at the ceiling. He winced when his neck stretched, but Fox knew he would have been the same way: sometimes the pain was a good reminder of one’s vulnerability and imperfection – of your humanity. “I was going to kill you,” he said, quietly, voice rough. “When we fought, in London.”

“No, becauseIwas going to killyou, until I got a look at your eyes.” When Ten didn’t respond, he said, “Did you recognize who I was – who I had to be – straight off?”

Ten’s throat moved. “Yes.”

Fox didn’t ask if Tenny had still meant to kill him, once he figured it out. That was an answer that wouldn’t do either of them any good.

“Okay, so, look,” he said, back to business. “I figure the fed I saw downstairs will be barging in here any minute, flashing his badge and being stupid and tedious. Eden’s good, but she can only hold him off so long.”

At mention of Eden, Ten’s gaze snapped back toward him.

“Yeah, you got that one wrong, too, boyo.”

“You do love her,” he said, wondrously.

“One: have you seen her? Two…” He didn’t try to keep the fond smile off his face. “I’ve tried telling myself I didn’t for a long time, but it never sticks. She’s brilliant, and she kicks my ass.”

He thought Ten looked contrite.

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