End of the Line by Nicky James

TWENTY

Killian

No amount of explaining seemed to matter when it came to that phone call I’d made back in Moose Jaw. The police had heard what they wanted to hear. I’d made threats, and as far as they were concerned, Leo had somehow been my hostage. It was the most ridiculous thing.

It probably didn’t help when I laughed in their faces at the suggestion. Hostage? I wanted to say. I let him fuck me under the stars. We kissed until our lips were chapped and sore. Does that sound like a hostage situation to you? But I shut my mouth, knowing it wouldn’t end well if I spat venom at the police.

But that wasn’t all. Not only was I being held on charges of threatening and possibly holding Leo against his will—seriously, had anyone talked to Leo?—but I was being charged with trespassing on CP Rail property.

The fines would be outrageous. In the morning, I would face the judge and find out what they were. Bail would be set then as well. None of it mattered. I had no money.

They offered me a phone call, but who was I going to call? The only people I knew were vagabonds like me. Guys and girls who avoided the police like the plague, who lived where they landed and didn’t have home addresses. They didn’t have any more money than I did.

For the first time since I’d run away from home at sixteen, I felt alone and lost. The communal cell was dirty and crowded. It smelled like a urinal that had been baking under the hot sun for a year. I found a vacant spot on a steel bench against one wall and kept my chin down. It had been hours since they’d pulled me off the street. Hours since the police had hammered me with questions. I thought about Leo and where he’d ended up.

Was he in trouble too? They hadn’t shoved him in the back of a cruiser or slapped him in handcuffs. They’d taken him away in an ambulance. I was glad, in a way. He was sick and needed a doctor. At least he wasn’t rotting away in a cell like me.

It was all my fault. I’d ruined the one good thing I’d managed to grasp onto in years. My heart ached.

I knew like I knew my own face in the mirror, like I knew the sun would rise each morning, that I would never see Leo again. Whatever had happened with Barrett, Leo was with his family now. They would resolve it quickly and quietly, and he would return to Germany. I would be nothing more than a memory he would soon forget.

In those lonely hours in the cell, I wondered if Leo would fall back into the life he’d once had. Had his talk of escaping that world been nothing more than a rich boy’s fantasy? Did he really think I had it better? What a joke.

Did he want his old life back? The life where he caved to his father’s every demand? Would he beg his father for forgiveness? Would he go back to being the perfect son who buried his secret heart so deep no one would ever see it? Would he take over his father’s company like he was meant to do? Would he marry Petra? Would he take her to bed with the same passion and love he’d shown me on that rooftop? Would they have children and raise them with tutors and nannies in houses bigger than I could imagine? Would he send them to private school? Would he give them music and riding lessons?

Would Leo ever smile again like he had while eating a cheeseburger at McDonald’s? Like when he’d gotten high with Dodger and stuffed his face with Jolly Ranchers while singing Spice Girls?

Would he remember our night on the warehouse rooftop when we’d made love during a sunset as the stars winked on above us?

The most plaguing question of all was, would a man like Leo, who could have everything and anything at the snap of a finger, ever miss a man like me?

A man who had nothing. Was nothing.

Men came and went while I sat on the bench, keeping to myself. There were no women in the communal jail cell, and I figured they held them elsewhere. After a few hours, when Tyler didn’t show up, I assumed he and Willow had gotten away.

I was glad.

The steel door squeaked and clanged as the guard opened and closed it all night long, calling out names and removing people or shoving new men inside. I had no notion of time. I snoozed sitting upright, keeping one ear perked and one eye open at all times. I’d been on the street long enough to know I had to remain alert and vigilant when surrounded by strangers.

I didn’t know what time it was, but when the door clattered open several hours later and my name was called, I had the impression it was the next day, but I couldn’t be sure. There were no windows.

I shuffled forward, assuming I was headed to a bail hearing to learn the cost of my actions. I’d only half understood what they’d explained to me when they’d brought me in, but I didn’t have to be a high school graduate to understand I was fucked.

The officer cuffed my wrists and took me to a small room the next level up. I was back in the main body of the police station, in an interrogation room. Again. My blood turned to ice. Why was I back here? I thought they’d finished asking me questions. What more did they want to know? When I asked the guard guiding me into the room what was happening, he ignored me and told me to take a seat. Someone would be with me shortly.

I sat for a long time. The bare white walls were too close, and the longer I waited, the more they pressed in on me. The only other furniture was a steel table and a second chair on the other side.

When the door opened again, I expected a police officer or two, but an older, middle-aged man entered. There was something vaguely familiar about him, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. He wore a pressed dress shirt, slacks, and a tie, as well as a long overcoat and black gloves. I got the impression he was someone important.

Glacial eyes seared into me as he crossed to the chair on the other side of the table. He pulled his gloves off one finger at a time—they were leather, I could smell them—and put them in the pockets of the coat before removing it as well and hanging it over the back of the chair. Still, his eyes never left mine. Was he a lawyer? I didn’t understand. I hadn’t asked for legal representation. I couldn’t afford it. Was this someone appointed to me by the city? They did that, right?

Something nagged at the back of my brain.

The man sat and adjusted his cuffs before folding his hands on the table nicely and neatly. He resumed staring. He was clean shaven. His hair had more silver than blond, and it was styled with product. He smelled like expensive cologne.

It was a full two minutes before the man asked, “What’s your name?”

He had a thick accent similar to Leo’s, and that was all it took for the pieces to fall into place. He wasn’t a lawyer. And he was familiar because I’d seen him on TV. It was then I picked up on the family resemblance. It was subtle, and I thought Leo must take more after his mom.

“If you’re here, you already know my name.”

“What’s your name?” he repeated.

“Killian.”

“No family name?”

“None that matters.”

He nodded like he expected no less. If he’d talked to the police, he had the answer.

“Who are you?” I asked, though I already knew.

He ignored me, studying me in a way that made me want to look away. It was intimidating, and I wasn’t easily intimidated. Living on the fly had toughened me up over the years. I knew how to stand my ground, especially with people who thought they were better than me.

“Tell me, Killian, how did you wind up connecting with my son?”

My heartbeat kicked up a notch, and I sat straighter. Where was Leo? Why was his father at the jail talking to me?

“Is Leo okay?” I asked instead. “He was sick.”

The man glared, unblinking. After a few minutes, I knew he wasn’t going to answer.

I sighed. “I saved his life in Montreal when he attempted to hop a train without knowing what he was doing. He would have been killed if I hadn’t intervened.”

A vein throbbed at the man’s temple, and his jaw tensed.

He swallowed before speaking, his voice hoarse and strained. “And so you decided to teach him how to jump on trains despite the fact he was covered in someone else’s blood and clearly on the run?”

I narrowed my eyes. “No. I didn’t want to take him with me. He was clueless, and we didn’t have time for lessons. Our freight was coming in. Leo was banged up, sure. His clothing was torn a bit, and he was limping, but it was dark. I didn’t see the blood.”

“So why did you change your mind?”

I shrugged. I wasn’t about to tell this man that money talked. He already knew. It was how he lived his whole life. Besides, after getting to know Leo, after falling so hard for him, I was ashamed that I’d taken his money. I didn’t want it anymore. I just wanted to know Leo was okay, unharmed, and being taken care of.

“Did he tell you why he was running? Why he wanted to leave?”

“Not at first.”

“Did you ask?”

“Yes, but us rail riders have a code. I didn’t push for answers, even when I saw the bruising in Toronto.”

The man flinched and lost a shade of color. “Bruising?”

“Yeah. Bruising.” My tone was harsh, but I couldn’t pull it back. I could still see the deep purple marks all over Leo’s skin when I closed my eyes. They had been there for over a week. “Barrett beat the fuck out of him. Leo was a mess. He could hardly walk without limping.”

The man tried to talk, but my anger surged to the forefront, and I couldn’t stop myself. “Do you know what that guy did to him? Leo fought for his life. He did what he had to do, and I don’t know if that fucker is alive or dead, but Leo will live with those demons forever. He screams in his sleep at night because of it. He wakes in a frenzy, and sometimes it takes me an hour to calm him down. He fights the memory every night when he closes his eyes. He can still feel the blood on his hands and under his nails. You all think I called that hotline and made threats against Leo, but I was only trying to help him. I wanted to know about Barrett because I wanted to give Leo peace of mind so maybe he could let it go. That’s why I called. That’s why I asked. And, PS, when I called, Leo had already told me he was never going back. No matter what, he said. So it wasn’t a threat. It was the truth. I was powerless, and it was the only thing I could think of that might help. I would do anything for Leo. Anything. I would never hurt him.”

I sank back in the hard chair and crossed my arms the best I could in handcuffs. Defeat seeped through every crevice of my body. There wasn’t anything else to say.

After a silent minute, the man rose. He donned his coat and gloves then stood there, looming over me. I wouldn’t look at him. He moved to the door but paused.

“Leo is being treated for a severe bronchial infection. He’ll be fine. Barrett did not die. The police have arrested him for assault. Leo will not be charged for what he did. The charges against you have been lifted, and your fine for trespassing is paid. Thank you for taking care of my son, Killian.”

He knocked on the door, and a moment later, a police officer let him out.

I was alone.

Alone and confused.

Three hours later, I was on the street outside the police station with my rucksack and no idea where to go. The police wouldn’t tell me where to find Leo. They ignored my constant questions and told me I shouldn’t disturb the Van Eschen family. They warned me to stay away from the tracks, but we both knew those demands were futile. The moment no one was looking, I’d be riding again. It was my life. It was in my blood. It was who I was. They couldn’t take that away from me.

But I wouldn’t leave the city without Leo.

Except I didn’t know where to find him or how much longer he would be around. At a bus stop, I sat and counted my money. The five hundred Leo had given me was still where I’d stuffed it, untouched. The money I’d spent over the course of our journey was from my earnings back in Montreal, but it was getting low. I didn’t want to spend Leo’s money, but I needed a phone. I needed food. I needed time to think.

And I was so fucking tired.

I walked to the nearest Walmart and purchased a cheap, pay-as-you-go phone and a phone card. In the grocery section, I stocked up on a few compact travel foods I could fit in my ruck. Once I paid, I sat on the curb in the parking lot and set up the phone, adding as many numbers as I could remember to my contacts.

Walmart had public access Wi-Fi, so I connected and went to Instagram, where I messaged a bunch of my contacts, telling them I needed their numbers again since I’d lost my old phone.

Then, I texted Willow a simple Hey.

It took less than three minutes for the phone to ring. I connected the call and barely got out a greeting when she went off on me.

“Where the hell are you? Jesus, are you okay? What happened? When you didn’t show up at the motel, we backtracked to the yard, figuring Green was too weak to walk. We saw the swarm of police. We saw them put you in a car. We didn’t hang out. We split as fast as possible just in case, but what the hell, Killian? Where are you? What’s going on? Did they arrest Leo too?”

I pinched the bridge of my nose, working hard to hold back the flood of emotions trying to bowl me over. “It’s a long story.”

“Are you in jail? Is this your one phone call?”

“No. I wouldn’t do that to you. They let me out. Are you and Ty still in Calgary?”

“Yeah. We’re at the motel where we were supposed to meet. We’re burning through Paul’s money, but we didn’t want to jump ship yet.”

“I’m coming to you. I’ll explain when I get there. What room number?”

“Eighteen. Killer?”

“Yeah?”

“Is Leo with you?”

The growing lump in my throat made it hard to speak. “No. He’s with his family now.”

Willow stayed quiet. Then, “I’m sorry.”

“I’ll be there soon.”

I hung up before I started to cry or Willow could ask more questions.

It was a long way to get to the motel. I could have taken the bus, but I needed time to myself to process, so I walked. Low clouds hung in the sky. The ominous threat of fall rain loomed in the distance. It was cold, but I was too numb to feel it.

I should have been happy Leo wasn’t being charged with attacking Barrett. I should have been relieved Barrett hadn’t died, but I wasn’t. That motherfucker deserved no less.

I should have been grateful Leo was under a doctor’s care and getting better, but all I felt was a heaviness pressing against my chest and a sharp sting in my heart every time my mind conjured Leo’s smile.

It had all happened so suddenly. We hadn’t even said goodbye.

And now, I didn’t know how to get a hold of him or where he might be.

Tyler and Willow were sitting on a bench outside the motel when I arrived. They jumped up, and I found myself in the middle of a crushing hug from both my friends. Tyler on one side, Willow on the other. My chest constricted, and it took everything I had not to cry.

We ordered pizza with Paul’s money, and I told them everything, from my arrest to Leo’s dad showing up at the jail.

Tyler called all the hospitals in Calgary, inquiring about Leo. We all knew it wouldn’t amount to anything. Even if he was at the hospital, his name wouldn’t be released to a random person on the phone.

Willow watched the news. The constant loop of Leo’s disappearance was no longer playing. There was no follow-up. It was as though the whole thing had never happened.

“What are you going to do?” Willow asked, shutting off the TV.

I stared at the blank screen, lost in my head. “Wait, I guess.”

“For how long?” Tyler asked.

I didn’t have an answer to that. Days? Weeks? Months? How would I know if Leo returned to Germany? How would I know if he left me and all we’d shared behind?

When Tyler pressed, I waved him off. “I don’t know. I’m tired. I don’t want to talk about it.”

I retreated to the bathroom, took a long, hot shower, and crawled into one of the beds.

I slept for thirteen hours without waking.

* * *

Four days passed. I spent each and every one of them at the spot where we’d jumped off the train. If Leo was going to search me out, I thought it would be there. Willow and Tyler stuck close, but on the fourth day, they announced they were going to catch out. I didn’t begrudge them their decision. The motel was sucking funds, and I was unable to move forward.

We exchanged hugs, and they left me with a cut of the money. Willow told me she’d stay in Vancouver and wait, but I’d better keep in touch and let her know if I wasn’t going to be there before the end of November. Otherwise, she’d go on without me.

“There’s more work in San Diego, and it isn’t as cold.”

“I know. I’ll let you know what’s happening. Are you staying in Vancouver for the winter?” I asked Tyler.

“Yeah. I have a buddy there who lets me crash in his basement. He can get me work too.”

“Okay.”

It was dark, closing in on midnight when the freight came through and whisked Tyler and Willow off into the night. It was hard to say goodbye, but I knew I’d see them again soon.

I pitched a tent deep in a brushy area, hidden among trees in a spot beyond the rail yard fence. I figured I’d stay near the tracks. There was nowhere else for me to go. I couldn’t wait forever. Soon I would be broke and have no choice but to move on. There was work in Vancouver. More in San Diego. But for now, I’d wait for Leo.

Just in case.