The Talisman War Box Set

Chapter 9

They decided to return to campus on Monday. While Lorna happily washed the clothes Dakota arrived in, he’d only brought one other set, and farms were dirty. He wanted to get the rest of his stuff—and say farewell to college life for good.

Terrell needed to retrieve a few things, too, so they borrowed Eddie’s beat-up blue truck and left right after breakfast. Dakota drove. The pedals on the old vehicle were too much for Terrell’s leg, and he couldn’t shift very well, either. And since the thing only sat two people, its owner couldn’t tag along.

Probably for the best. With some time away from the family, Dakota relaxed a little. About an hour into the drive, sitting at a long red light, he pulled the necklace out of his shirt and let it hang out in the open. Terrell noticed immediately. He turned the radio—set to some classic rock station—down slightly, but he didn’t say anything right away. He only stared. His bottom lip moved a little, mouthing whatever words were rattling around inside his head.

By the time the light turned green, Dakota could take the silence no longer. “I think I’m getting used to it,” he said with a tentative smile. Keeping his eyes on the road and one hand on the gear shifter, he didn’t dare give Terrell his full attention. He rarely drove a car as it was, let alone a manual truck constructed the same decade he was born.

“You’ve been wearing it this whole time?” Terrell eventually asked.

He nodded. “Yeah, just—uh, under my shirt. I didn’t know what to say to your cousins if they saw it, so…”

“You could just tell them I gave it to you.”

Dakota laughed dismissively. Did Terrell really think it was that simple? “I could handle that part. It’s the next question that gets tricky. I have your magic necklace. Why do I have it? What the hell do I say to that?”

Terrell shifted his position abruptly, bringing his right foot up and resting it on his other knee. He kept his head down. It was a posture he often took when he was alone with Dakota. As though, sometime in the past, his family members noticed this sort of meek behavior and endeavored to correct it. He kept his head up for them, but not for Dakota. Because he didn’t ask it of him. Absently, the fingers on Terrell’s left hand began picking at the rubber edges of his old white sneaker.

“Lanie already knows, though. Remember? I mean, it’s the same reason I brought you to the ranch, to help you out, so she’d probably put two and two together. But I could tell everybody else if you want me to. Or—”

“The trigger-happy one has a different idea.” He decided to just come out with it. “Eddie. She thinks we’re dating. And she doesn’t even know about the necklace yet. I doubt there’d be any convincing her otherwise if and when she did find out.”

Fear and discomfort flashed across Terrell’s face. “You told her we weren’t, right?”

“I didn’t tell her anything.”

“What? Why not?!”

“Hey, calm the f**k down, okay? It’s not a big deal,” he instructed, raising his hand from the shifter to signal that things were under control. “I didn’t say anything because she only implied it. When we were working, she wanted me to check on you. See how you were doing. The look she gave me—” He smiled and shook his head. “It was like she wanted me to know I had her blessing.”

But Terrell wasn’t amused. “You should’ve said something.”

“Sorry, I didn’t have my notes prepared,” he countered, annoyance easily readable in his tone. “I mean, come on. You had to know people wouldn’t immediately assume this was a glorified suicide intervention. I’m gay. I look gay. Hell, I sound like it. I’m a walking stereotype half the time, even when I’m trying not to be. And you show up out of the blue with me hanging off your waist, bringing me into a life reserved for close family—what did you think was gonna happen? I dunno what kind of person you wanna be, but I don’t think it would even matter. Anybody who takes one look at us would just assume.”

“You’re wrong. Eddie’s not like that.”

He scoffed. “Everyone’s like that! It’s the same basic bullshit with everybody on this goddamn planet. I’m obviously gay, and you’re at least outwardly close to me, so we must be f*****g like rabbits, right? Or cohabitating or something. Not just friends. No way in hell. Pick your own big gay adventure.” Dakota gripped the steering wheel tightly. “Or, it’s the complete opposite. They assume you’re straight, despite all evidence to the contrary, and, even when you f*****g tell them, they don’t believe you.”

“You think my family’s that way? Even after meeting them and everything?” He sounded so morose.

“I think your family is no exception.” But with two hours left in their ride back to campus, the last thing Dakota needed was copious amounts of tension between him and his passenger. “Look, they’re good people as far as I’ve seen, and I’m sure they mean well. But I know what I heard. She didn’t mean anything negative by it. She just assumed we were together. And honestly, I’m not exactly excited to tell them that I wanted to kill myself. People don’t take that kind of news lightly. And since they don’t know a whole lot of other things about me, I don’t really want that to be what defines me, you know? I don’t think I really want them to know about it.” The fact that Eleanor already did was bad enough.

Terrell took a short time to process all the information before responding. In a quiet voice, he asked, “‘Wanted’? You don’t wanna kill yourself anymore?”

Dakota pried his eyes away from the road for a brief moment to shoot his travel partner a glance of affirmation. Thoughts of dying still hung around like an old friend, but he didn’t feel controlled by it anymore. At least not right now. Turning back, “No, not as much. You convinced me, to an extent. Don’t let it go to your head, though. I just don’t want it like I used to.” He hadn’t even noticed at first. The feelings didn’t drop away like an instant cure. They just—soothed a little. Not all the way, of course. But enough to mention.

“What do you want?”

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Why would Terrell ask a question like that? He already knew Dakota intended to stay with him and his family, to learn more about the talismans, and generally to get involved in whatever escapades ensued. Didn’t Terrell already know what he wanted? Unless he hoped there was something on top of that.

Dakota wasn’t an i***t. As a conclusion settled in his mind like a rolling wheel reaching the bottom of a hill, he licked his lips and forced himself to relax once more. “Answers, mostly.”

“About the talismans?”

He smiled. “Well, sure. I’d love to know what this thing around my neck actually does.” He looped his thumb around the cord and slid it down to the pendant before letting it go again. “But not just that. I still don’t know much about your family or about you.” He raised an eyebrow. “Hell, I don’t even know why you followed me to that bridge.”

Or did he think Dakota would forget about that? The abandoned railroad viaduct was only about a mile away from campus, but it sat hidden in the woods outside of town. There wasn’t a great, direct path there. He took the long route, and he made certain no one thought he was particularly distraught or interested in hurting himself. He hadn’t written a note and didn’t intend to, and he left while most students had their classes. On the day in question, after the attempt failed, he didn’t ask how Terrell knew where he was or what he planned to do, because, quite frankly, he didn’t care. He only felt angry about it.

But since then, the question bobbed around in his head. Now that he had Terrell to himself, locked in a speeding vehicle, the guy couldn’t avoid answering.

Terrell covered his mouth with his left hand and turned to look out the window. He changed his mind right away, however, and twisted his whole body in the seat to face Dakota, letting his hand drop. “I saw you across campus,” he explained slowly. “I always see you on Thursday afternoons. My painting restoration class lets out at about the same time you’re always headed to one of your classes. It was too far away to ever say hi, you know, and you walk kind of fast. And, well, I don’t.”

He paused to catch his breath, and Dakota allowed himself another brief look at him. Terrell continued, “But this time, you were going the wrong direction. Off campus. And you looked pretty upset, and I dunno, I just had a bad feeling.”

He didn’t remember being distraught. In fact, he’d actively tried to conceal it. “You could tell all that from across campus?”

Sitting back in his seat, Terrell looked anxious. The muscles in his face were tight, and it seemed like he was on the verge of getting upset. But he reeled it in. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Huh.”

After a long silence, he gradually worked up the courage to give Dakota a better answer. “Actually, no. I thought you looked lonely. Completely alone. And I—I didn’t think you should have to be. I figured I’d catch up to you, and—if you wanted—I dunno. I figured I’d…umm, I’d ask you out or something. Maybe a movie or just a long drive on the back roads, through the forests and stuff, you know? Nothing too serious. Just so I could show you a good time. But I couldn’t walk up to you. I wanted to, but I physically couldn’t. Without help, I never would’ve caught up.” He was breathing heavier than usual, and he clenched his jaw.

There it was.

“I drive to half my classes, anyway, so I just got on my bike and went after you. And then I saw you were drinking,” Terrell continued. “Middle of the day. I remembered from the club that you said you didn’t even like alcohol. But you were drinking it straight from the bottle. And then I realized where you were going.” Visibly upset now, he began to tremble. “I had to stop you.”

“Why’s that?” He knew why, now. But he wanted to hear it.

Terrell gripped his seat in an attempt to stop shaking. “Man, I already told you. It’d be a waste if you died. You’re great. Maybe people don’t tell you that enough, but it’s the truth. I like you, Dakota. Because you’re smart. And I love just hearing you talk or being around you. Seeing you like that—I couldn’t take it. I want you to be happy. You have to be alive to be happy. And hopefully at the end of the day, maybe you’d end up somewhere in my general vicinity. But even if I couldn’t have that last one—couldn’t have you—making sure you had a chance to be happy for a while was worth it. Was worth telling you about the talismans and everything else.”

For someone so concerned with what other people thought about him, Terrell had no trouble pouring his heart out into the cabin of the truck. Accessing his emotions when it came to Dakota seemed almost easy for him.

No one had ever showed this much romantic interest in Dakota, this quickly and deeply, on so little information. Sure, he had suitors. He was sexually active, relatively attractive when he put his mind to it, and not exactly opposed to getting some when it was readily offered. But this wasn’t about s*x. Or at least it didn’t seem to be.

He remembered Terrell’s reputation. Men and women alike got close to him, and then he broke their hearts. Right? But did he act this vulnerable with them? This reckless? That wasn’t something a person could just turn on and off, could they?

Even at face value, the confession couldn’t be taken lightly. People didn’t throw themselves halfway off of bridges for someone or share all their secrets just to get laid. This was something powerful and rare. This was devotion to a cause. “Is that why you gave me this?” Dakota picked the talisman up by the disk for effect.

He nodded firmly. “You don’t have to keep it if you don’t want to, but—I just really want you to stay. And, umm—” But he was too embarrassed to continue.

Dakota had to know. “And what?”

“It matches your eyes.” He laughed before covering his face with one hand. “God, that sounds even worse out loud.”

“Oh, wow.” He couldn’t help but laugh, too. Really? That was like a line out of some bad story written by giggling teenage girls. Real people didn’t say s**t like that, did they?

“It’s true, though,” Terrell tried to recover. “Green and brown at the same time. It’s stupid, I know, but it was the first thing I thought of when I got close enough to really look at you.” He sat up a little in his seat and began rubbing at his knee. By the looks of the pain in his expression, either the long ride did him in or he must’ve been tightening the leg out of nervousness. Dakota thought it might be the second one. “You’re gorgeous, you know. You don’t even have to try. You just are.”

Blushing, Dakota smiled. At the next stop light, he crossed his arms over the steering wheel and buried his face inside of them. “I can’t believe this.”

“Which part?” The question sounded quiet. Timid.

“All of it! You saving me, the magic f*****g necklaces, this whole conversation. I’m supposed to be dead right now!”

“I’m really glad you’re not,” he pointed out.

Dakota reluctantly lifted his head. Before he could form a solid response, Terrell reached for him and cupped the side of his face in his hand. He contorted a little before bending down the rest of the way to meet him for a kiss.

It was gentler than Dakota typically experienced. A slight, tentative graze, as though Terrell feared he might be rejected. There was still passion, but it felt more distant. Restrained. They weren’t about to tumble into bed. They were at a red light in the middle of a nearly deserted Pennsylvania byway. And Terrell seemed determined to kiss him as softly as he could manage. His fingers traveled into Dakota’s hair a little, and his breath was warm on his skin. But apart from that, they hardly touched.

He let him go just as quickly and sat back in his seat.

The light turned green. Dakota could barely think. It took him a few moments to get the truck in gear and rolling again, and even longer before he could form a coherent thought on what just occurred. He hadn’t anticipated the heartfelt confession or the kiss that followed. But he’d be a liar if he pretended he didn’t like it. All of it. The compliments, the emotion, the touching.

“I’m glad, too,” he stammered quickly. “And I like you a lot, Terrell. I like what we just did.”

He flashed bright white teeth as he smiled widely. After a few unsuccessful attempts to add to the conversation, he bit into his lower lip before finally getting a couple words out. “You sure?”

Dakota reached over and touched him just below his ear before running his hand down Terrell’s shoulder and arm. “Yeah. You’re sweet. No one’s ever kissed me like that before or said those things.” He could feel his face getting hot. “I think maybe we should do more of that really soon.”

When he shot a glance at Terrell, he looked positively enchanted. Whatever Dakota felt in this moment, it couldn’t compare. But he did feel something. He really enjoyed the attention and the gentle way Terrell provided it. He wasn’t lying when he said he liked him, too. The anger faded quickly. And the fact that he felt anything at all seemed noteworthy in its own right. Last week, all he knew was a hollow loneliness and deep depression, which he wanted to rectify by taking a nosedive into a dry riverbed.

Now? He felt comfortable, almost to the point of happiness. He was blushing, flirting—living. He couldn’t be on the same level as Terrell in terms of romantic interest, but maybe that was because they weren’t starting from the same place. Maybe once he truly got to know him, he’d feel just as strongly. And even if it never quite got to the same level of complete adoration that Terrell seemed to be feeling, Dakota still wanted more. He wanted to see how far this could go. The talismans, the journey, and now a shot at romance.

When they turned off of the highway and ended up alone at a rural intersection—with no one to care if they took their time—Dakota decided to return the favor. He wasn’t a novice at this sort of thing, though he’d had a self-imposed dry streak since starting college. He knew how to kiss a person very well. And he certainly knew the best ways to turn someone on.

Not that Terrell needed any help in that department. Although an oversized football jersey hid his lap from view, Dakota imagined even their light exchange probably did wonders for him. All that pent-up frustration looking for a release.

He couldn’t help but entertain the idea that perhaps his newfound love interest’s past injuries might affect his ability to perform. But as soon as he thought it, he silently scolded himself. Who cares? There were ways around any potential problem under the sun if two people were willing to get creative enough, and anyway, it was a bit premature to start questioning the functionality of Terrell’s genitalia.

Both of the men ached to be touched again. That was what mattered.

With one fluid motion, he pressed in the buttons to unlatch their seatbelts before leaning over the shifter and taking up Terrell’s face in both hands. Dakota led with his nose. He always thought that part of him was a bit too big, but in moments like this, it could be useful. He teased him a little by brushing it against the bridge of Terrell’s own nose. When the connection was made, he closed his eyes. Terrell’s skin felt so warm.

A few more tantalizing seconds passed before Dakota finally kissed him. He took a slightly stronger approach, moving quickly and making certain to convey how much he enjoyed being close to him. Terrell held his own. And by the time Dakota had slipped his tongue into his mouth, he gripped him tightly.

With just the left hand, though.

His right rested loosely against Dakota’s knee. Unused and mostly out of commission. When Dakota pulled away a little to take in the moment, he identified a unique opportunity. He picked up the hand and brought it to his lips, kissing each knuckle. “Can you feel this?” he asked as delicately as possible.

Terrell exhaled before nodding. “It just doesn’t work very well.”

He shrugged. “It doesn’t bother me, if you’re worried.” Taking things up a notch, he licked the tip of Terrell’s index finger. Then, he went back to the knuckles. “I like this part of you, too.”

“I don’t even know what you’re doing, but it’s really hot,” he breathed.

Laughing, Dakota paused in his efforts and rested his chin on Terrell’s hand. “I can do a whole lot more than this.”

His mouth moved, but no words escaped at first. Then, Terrell grew a little sad, and Dakota silently wondered if he’d said something wrong. But the problem became clear when he finally spoke. “You know, I’ve got a lot of scars and stuff. I’m not really—”

“I don’t care,” Dakota cut in without an ounce of hesitation. “I really don’t mind.”

“You might.”

“I won’t. But if you don’t believe me, then show me them. I promise it won’t bother me.” He’d seen more than his fair share of illness and damage to human bodies. Scarring, no matter how severe, shouldn’t be a problem.

After a few moments of indecision, Terrell reluctantly grabbed the bottom hem of his shirt and lifted it up to his neck. Dakota’s eyes drifted across the series of deep scars along Terrell’s right side, but they didn’t hold his attention. He found himself much more interested in how low Terrell’s jeans hung on his waist. Beneath, there was a small amount of fabric showing—evidence of tight, red and white briefs—and from under those, a subtle line of hair extended toward his navel. Dakota tried not to drool.

When he did finally focus on the pattern of damage, he saw nothing particularly grotesque. He winced because it probably hurt like hell. And it didn’t look much like damage from a car crash, at least not to him. The deep indentions and dark, stripe-like tissue could easily be battle wounds, perhaps even shrapnel from a grenade. He noted silently that it appeared as though Terrell had also endured several surgeries in that area, and at least one of his ribs on that side was missing.

Poor guy, he thought. The accident occurred when Terrell was only a teenager. Dakota knew hardship during his teens—hell, he was still only nineteen—but nothing like that. He couldn’t imagine going through something this physically damaging so young.

The exercise, nonetheless, proved his point. When his gaze eventually pointed up at Terrell’s face, Dakota smiled once more. “Like I said. It doesn’t matter to me.”

“You think you might still—”

“Want you? Yes! f**k yeah, absolutely.” He reached for Terrell again, and kissed him as passionately as he could manage with their awkward positions inside the truck. Pulling away only after he felt satisfied that the flourish of kisses was convincing, Dakota let one of his hands slide down Terrell’s chest until it stopped at his waist. He ran one finger over the edge of his underwear. “I have to say, I am surprised, though.”

With the shirt still partially raised and Dakota’s attention fixed on Terrell’s lap, it became clear that everything Terrell possessed in that general region—everything that mattered, anyway—still worked. His loose-fitting jeans now looked tight.

“About what?”

“I would’ve guessed boxers.”

Terrell laughed. Radiant and genuine. Mostly, he appeared sort of plain. Short hair. Boring and masculine-centric clothing. A seemingly permanent five o’clock shadow. But he looked anything but ordinary when he smiled or laughed or got really excited about something. Even at his young age—twenty, going on twenty-one—little lines appeared at the corners of his eyes, and he practically glowed.

“Umm, well, I like to mix it up,” Terrell answered when he regained a few scraps of control.

“Oh, I bet you do.” Letting him go, Dakota reattached his seatbelt and turned his attention back to driving. As much as he wanted things to get hot and heavy as soon as possible—and he really, really did—doing it in a borrowed car would be cruel to the owner. He wouldn’t want some random people having s*x, or anything close to it, in his vehicle if he lent it to them. Let alone a family member. So, he couldn’t justify doing it now. Terrell would have to wait.

He let out a small groan when he realized things wouldn’t be progressing anytime soon. Dakota shot him a sympathetic glance. “Scars or not, I’m dying to see the rest of you.” He paused for effect. “When we have time.”

His eyes walked over him. “I dunno if I can wait.”

With a smirk painted on his face, Dakota kept his attention on the road. “It’ll be worth it.”