PART ONE - FUEL ON THE FIRE
This is where you talk about rabbit holes, and falling down into things, and finding tiny bottles of drinks that are not poison, but might as well be.
And then you make a big speech about secrets, and lies, and how the cure for pretty much everything is answers and truth.
Blah.
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Blah.
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Blah.
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Consider all that shit said.
CHAPTER ONE - INDIE
I have them all. Just the way I want them.
Donovan is tall and lean. His dark hair is a nice contrast when he stands next to McKay or Adam because they are both blond. Not the same shade—Adam’s hair is a little bit lighter. They both have blue eyes, but Donovan’s are darker, more hazel than brown. And when I gaze into them it’s easy to get lost in the swirls of color. He’s tall. All three of them are tall, over six feet. But Donovan has the body of a born athlete. A swimmer, maybe, or a runner. He’s filled out a lot since I first met him back when he was fifteen and I was ten. But that’s expected. He was still a child even though he didn’t act like one. I don’t care how high your IQ is, fifteen is still fifteen.
Knowing what I do now, I would not call Donovan a quiet man. But he is quiet compared to McKay. When Donovan is talking his tone is flat and to the point. He’s blunt when he has something to say. But he’s not inconsiderate. Not at all. Donovan chooses words very carefully before he says them. I think that’s left over from his psychiatrist training. But Donovan is the nicest of the three of them. Obviously, Adam is the mean one. He likes it that way. Donovan takes care not to hurt people’s feelings. He’s not the type of person to yell or insult others. Not that he doesn’t get angry, but I get the feeling that Donovan refuses to argue with people because it’s not worth his time. He’s an opinionated asshole like the rest of the world, he just keeps things to himself.
I think that’s because he’s been trained to listen to others. But it does make him a hard nut to crack.
McKay’s skin tone is slightly more on the brown side than Adam’s. McKay tans dark in the summer, like me. His hair gets a shade or two lighter, if he’s outside a lot, and he almost always is. McKay is a builder. He can make anything with his hands. He has proved this to me dozens of times over the years.
When Donovan gives me a present it comes wrapped in a fine box with a silky ribbon. I always know that whatever is inside the box, it’s going to be sparkly. And it’s going to be pricey and come from a store that I’ve never heard of. But when McKay gives me a gift it’s probably not going to be wrapped at all. It’s probably too big. Something like a dollhouse, or a swing that hangs from the pavilion ceiling, or a piece of furniture he rescued from the attic and then put his own touches on to make it special. It will have a big bow, but that’s about it.
McKay’s body is more muscular than Donovan’s and if he played a sport it would be something rough. Like football or hockey. Something with a lot of contact and brute force behind the points being earned. And when he talks, even though he doesn’t yell very often, his voice carries. It’s just loud that way. He’s not one to insult people either, but he keeps it in for different reasons than Donovan. McKay doesn’t like to be the center of attention. He prefers to have someone’s back. Be second in command. He’s good at it too. Doesn’t need to be given orders to get things done. Just does them naturally.
Adam is as different from them as he is from me. He’s hard. Everything about Adam is hard. His blue eyes remind me of cobalt and they don’t glint, like McKay’s often will. They have a glare in them, a fire inside. A warning too. Don’t piss him off, that’s what his eyes say.
He’s got more tattoos than McKay, who only has a few here and there. But I would not call either of them tattoo enthusiasts. I don’t know the stories behind their tats, but I imagine they were things not planned. Heat-of-the-moment artwork. I could be wrong, but they don’t talk about them. And I can’t even remember the last time either of them came home with a new one. They were mostly all there from the beginning. At least the beginning that started with me.
Adam is the leader. Even during his recovery time, back after his brain injury, he was still in charge. Some people just take command that way and he’s one of them. His words are short and clipped. They bark orders. And he will raise his voice in an instant if he thinks you’re not paying attention. Adam is a yeller. Sometimes he’s a screamer too. If he screams at you, he’s pissed off.
But it’s when he’s quiet that you really gotta look out for Adam. Quiet is a signal that something has gone wrong and his mind doesn’t have time for words because he’s plotting his actions.
When Adam goes quiet, he’s probably thinking about killing people.
His body is hard too—muscular—and he likes to work out. He has a lot of gym equipment in the shed. He likes the bags. Heavy bag. Speed bag. He wraps his hands and kicks things. And he likes to spar with McKay. McKay works out too. It’s just part of him. He’s always training, but not for the same reasons Adam does. Adam wants to stay hard. Never wants to go soft. McKay just wants to stay sharp. He doesn’t like to be caught off guard.
But even though they are so different, they are all the same in some ways.
Mostly when it comes to Maggie. I’m not gonna lie, I’m a little bit jealous that she has captured their love in the same way.
Their love for me was always unequal. Adam loved me when I was in danger. He was a fierce protector. You hurt me, he’ll kill you. That was the bottom line. And that’s a nice way to be loved. I’m not complaining. McKay loved me like a child. He loved me with his whole heart the way you love something weak and innocent. It’s not the same as Adam’s protective love, even though it might look that way on the surface. McKay’s love was all about preparing me for things. Fights, jobs, danger. That kind of thing. It was a little bit parental. And he is a natural teacher. But Adam’s protectiveness was all about ownership. You don’t fuck with something that is his. And I am his.
Donovan’s love for Maggie is more detached. He was that way with me too. He learns from her. Every time she talks he listens, trying to find hidden meaning underneath.
He does that to me too. But Donovan and I are friends. Real friends. He never saw me as a child, and I don’t think he sees Maggie as a child, either. He saw me as a mind, a collection of unique thoughts and perspectives, and he wanted to know what they were.
So we talked a lot. And not just in the therapy sessions, either. Donovan and I talked about life. I liked to hear about what he was doing when he was away and he liked to talk about it.
When you’re Company you can’t talk about your life much. But he could tell me anything. He knew I was a vault in that way. That I was never gonna go tell someone what he said. Not even Nathan.
Nathan—even though he’s dead—was something quite different than these three men.
Nathan was just… well, the boy next door. That’s who he was. He was everything Adam, McKay, and Donovan were, and more. Because he was always there—loving me, and listening to me, and protecting me—and he never asked for anything in return. He never expected me to protect him, and he never expected me to tell him my secrets, and he never asked me to love him.