End of the Line by Nicky James

TWENTY-ONE

Leopold

I was sick for days. It felt like an eternity. My fever kept coming back, and my chest ached like an elephant was standing on it. Pneumonia set in, and the doctor had to put me on a stronger antibiotic. I was restricted to bedrest and only given soup and crackers to eat. There was far too much emphasis put on the fact that I’d returned from my excursion severely dehydrated.

On the first day, after the chat with my father, two officers sat with me and listened to my side of the events surrounding Barrett. Father hovered, never leaving the room. He paced and watched, his face a picture of worry. I’d never known my father to exhibit outward signs of stress, but in those hours of questioning, I watched him destroy his fingernails with his teeth.

Mother was nowhere to be found. I wouldn’t have been shocked to discover that she’d returned home after finding out I was safe. We weren’t close. I wasn’t sure we ever would be. She hadn’t raised me, and I’d always suspected I’d been born out of obligation, not desire.

When the police left, I slept. The doctor came and went. Stefan returned and shared that the police had spoken to Barrett again. They’d told him all I’d shared and asked him if he still didn’t want to talk.

“He talked,” Stefan said. “He told them everything. He knew he didn’t have a leg to stand on. I think he assumed we wouldn’t find you. He knew your father would have the best lawyers money could buy to fight your case. He’ll be charged with assault at the very least. Your father will deal with him.”

“And me?”

Stefan smirked, an odd look on the usually stoic bodyguard. “Do you really think your father will allow the police to raise a stink? It was clearly self-defense, Leo. You have nothing to worry about. It will be taken care of quickly and quietly.”

Because Father and money equaled power. How easily things could be swept under the rug when you sat in an important position in society. It made me ill. What of Killian? Was he rotting away in a jail cell? Who would help him? He didn’t have a rich father to wave money at the police in exchange for a quiet resolution.

Father hadn’t been back since the police interviewed me. I had a lot to say. If I was no longer required to remain under lock and key, then I needed to go find Killian.

“Where’s Father?” I asked.

“I don’t know. He’ll return soon.”

When Stefan left, I slept again. Whatever the doctor was giving me, it must have included a sedative. The nightmares couldn’t penetrate whatever it was, and for the first time since leaving Montreal, I slept long and hard.

When I awoke again, I didn’t know what day it was. My room was empty, so I carefully got to my feet, found the robe, and maneuvered my IV pole with me as I shuffled into the adjoining room.

Stefan and Harlan were both present, chatting quietly on opposite sofas. No one else was around.

“Are you two ensuring I don’t leave?”

Harlan grinned and tilted his head to look over the back of the couch so he could meet my gaze. “Something like that. How are you feeling?”

“Fine. Where’s Father? I wish to speak with him.”

“He said he’d be around this evening,” Stefan said. “He’s working.”

“Well, I suggest you call him and tell him to change his plans. If he doesn’t come now, I’m ripping this IV out of my arm and leaving.”

“And where would you go? Why are you running now?” Harlan asked. He was amused, and I didn’t like it. “Everything is fixed. Everything is back to normal.”

“It’s not. Killian was arrested, and he’s been alone in a jail cell for god only knows how long. I have to help him.”

Stefan and Harlan exchanged a look before Stefan spoke. “The boy was released a few days ago.”

“What?”

“He was cleared and let go.”

“But… How did—”

“Your father paid his fines and dropped the charges. He sent him on his way. He’s gone, Leo. Forget about him. We fly home tomorrow.”

Gone?

I opened my mouth to speak, but I didn’t know what to say. Killian wouldn’t leave, would he? Where would he go? What would he do?

“Get my father here, or I’m walking out that door. Now.”

I wasn’t above being a spoiled rich brat who ordered people around. Harlan was about to protest when I gave him a glare that could melt iron. He pulled out his phone and excused himself into the hallway.

Stefan eyed me as I scanned the room.

“Where is my rucksack?”

“Your what?”

“The bag I had with me when the police came. I need it.”

Stefan glanced around as he sat forward. “I’m not sure where—”

“Find it!” My voice cracked when I yelled, and it started a nasty coughing fit which took all the authority out of my demand.

“Leo, maybe you should lie down. You don’t—”

“Find it,” I wheezed. “Just do it. Do it now.”

He nodded and slipped out of the room.

I hobbled back into the bedroom and looked around for proper clothing. I couldn’t gallivant through the streets of Calgary in my underwear, but there was nothing. The drawers in the dressers were empty. The closet was barren. Angry, my heart pounding faster and faster as I thought of Killian leaving without me, I tore out my IV and stomped to the window. It overlooked a great portion of the city. I could see far, but not far enough. Was Killian out there still? If so, where? Had he hopped a train and left without me? We were supposed to go together.

“To the end of the line,” I whispered to no one. “You promised.”

Rooftops stared back at me, and I had to turn away. They reminded me of our last night in Moose Jaw. I refused to cry anymore. Sick or not, it was time to take action.

Stefan appeared with my rucksack ten minutes later. He left it beside the door and backed away, likely sensing my ire. I collected it and slammed the bedroom door like a petulant child before taking it to the bed. Once again, my father had ensured I was surrounded by his security officers.

I sat in the middle of the bed and unpacked everything. The extra set of clothes we’d bought were freshly washed after having stayed at Paul and Matilda’s. There were umpteen bags of candy Killian had given me. I unwrapped a pink Starburst and popped it into my mouth.

The towel I’d stolen from the motel in Winnipeg smelled of mildew. It had probably been damp when I’d packed it. My wallet was at the bottom. It contained a little more than two thousand dollars and my ID. In a side pocket, I pulled out the Transformer toy Dodger had bought me after I’d given the others I’d collected away to three little boys in a McDonald’s in Brandon. I moved the parts, making it into a car then back into a robot before setting it aside.

The last item in the bag was the envelope Willow had given me that contained dozens of articles Killian’s dad had posted in newspapers over the years. Pleas to a runaway child to come home.

God, you and Killian are more alike than I realized, Willow had said. You both put on blinders and see what you want to see. You see things you assume you’ll see instead of seeing the truth. You react before you stop and ask questions.

She’d been right about my father. I’d thought he hated having a gay son when, in fact, he’d feared for me and the challenges it might present. It was twisted, and he’d made mistakes, but deep down, I knew he loved me. I saw that now. For the first time in my life, I saw my father as a human being and not some supernatural hero who couldn’t be taken down. I’d seen him crack. I’d seen him cry. I’d listened to him apologize for not being perfect.

What if Killian’s dad was no different? What if Killian had misinterpreted what he’d seen all those years ago? He’d been young and possibly hormonal. Scared after such a huge reveal. Teenagers were reactive and often didn’t stop to think. If he’d asked why, would the truth have surprised him?

I should have talked to Killian about it before now. I’d waited too long. If I found him again, I would sit him down and make him listen. I would show him the articles. They would make him think.

What if he’d been running all these years from a man who truly loved him?

As I flipped through the articles, I saw what Willow saw. I saw a broken-hearted father looking for his missing son. Parents weren’t perfect. I think in our misguided way as children, we expect them to be. But they were only human. They made mistakes. They shouldn’t be punished for them indefinitely. Maybe his father had made a mistake and realized it too late. Would Killian want to go his whole life without knowing? I doubted it.

I made a decision.

The bedroom door opened, and my father walked in. He looked unhappy, but I wasn’t happy either. He noticed the IV line lying on the ground, and his frown deepened. “What is this?”

“I’m leaving.”

“Leaving? You are not. You’re ill.”

“I’m better, and I am. The police are finished with me, and I’m a grown adult. You can’t keep me here.”

“I’ve ordered the jet to be ready for tomorrow morning. We’ll return home.”

“I won’t be on it.”

“Leopold, what is this nonsense? What is the matter with you?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you paid Killian’s fines and dropped the charges?”

Father looked baffled, and he shook his head. “What are you talking about? That was days ago. The boy helped you. You were concerned about his arrest. I looked into it and dealt with it. That upsets you?”

“You didn’t tell me!”

“I don’t tell you a lot of things, Leopold. What does it matter?”

“It matters. Where did he go?”

“How should I know? I didn’t ask his plans.”

Of course he hadn’t. Killian was worse than a nobody in my father’s eyes. Killian was what my father referred to as the scum of society. He didn’t see the depth of the person beyond. He didn’t understand Killian’s life, where he’d come from, and what he’d done to survive. Father measured people’s worth based on the size of their bank accounts.

“I’m not going back to Germany.”

Father heaved an aggravated sigh and rubbed at the spot between his eyes. “What has gotten into you?”

“I’m not going. I’m staying here.”

“Staying here.” He threw his hands up. “For how long? What does that mean?”

“It means… it means… I’m choosing a different life than the one I’ve been given.” I dropped my chin and flipped through the newspaper clippings one at a time, reading the headlines as I thought of a scared boy named Killian who’d gone on the run nine years ago. A boy who’d adopted the name Killer and who rode trains across the country because it made him feel alive. Who liked the feel of the wind at his back. Who took each day as it came and never worried about tomorrow.

When I glanced up, the look on my father’s face had changed. He saw I was serious. His forehead crinkled, and he approached the bed, sitting on its edge. “What are these?”

“Killian ran away from home when he was sixteen because he thought his family didn’t accept that he was gay. He was wrong. I think he misinterpreted something or jumped to conclusions. I don’t know for sure, but I have to find him and tell him his father is out there looking for him and has been for nine years.”

“And that’s important to you?”

I blinked away a flood of rising tears as I nodded. “It is. He’s important to me.”

“Why?”

My lower lip quivered, but I tensed my jaw and made it stop.

Father touched my knee. “Tell me why, Leopold.” I thought he already knew but needed to hear it from me.

“Because I love him. Because he’s suffered with his inner demons long enough, and he deserves his family back. He deserves to know there are people in this world who love him. He showed me a freedom I never knew existed. He was kind and patient. He gave me a taste of a life I’d never known, and I was so happy, Father. It was crazy and wild and terrifying sometimes, but I’ve never felt more alive.”

I met my father’s confused stare. He didn’t understand. I wasn’t sure he could. “But I’ve given you everything.”

“Except the freedom to choose my own life.”

Pain marred his features.

I picked up the Transformer toy and let the flood of memories from the last few weeks come back—all the things we’d done, all the places we’d gone, all the experiences we’d had.

“We ate at McDonald’s so many times while on the road. It was amazing.” I chuckled. “That sounds silly to you. I know it does. Do you know the last time I had McDonald’s?”

Father’s gaze cut to the toy, and he gave a sharp nod. He knew because he’d been so angry that day he’d fired Lina and hired the witch to replace her. His son should never eat somewhere like that. It was beneath us.

“I don’t know if you realize it, but McDonald’s cheeseburgers are the best thing on the planet.”

Father looked like he’d sucked a sour lemon. “Leopold, that’s—”

“They are. To me. Listen. I beg you. For once in your life, listen to me. Hear me, Father. This is important.”

He listened.

“You’ve always told me what to think, how to feel, how to act, and I’m grateful for the life you’ve given me. I’ve had things some children will never have. I know this. But I was never able to be my own person. I had to be who you wanted me to be. I learned a lot about myself while on the road.”

A soft smile touched my lips. “Do you know, I swam naked in a grove in the middle of nowhere. It was freezing, and I was sure my privates would fall off before we were done, but it was so much fun. My lips turned blue, and my teeth wouldn’t stop chattering. My skin pebbled and turned white. I didn’t think I’d ever be warm again.”

“And now you have pneumonia.”

I glared. He pinched his lips.

I went on. “We had a bubble gum blowing contest in the middle of a rainstorm. Killian taught me how to blow bubbles because I didn’t know how, and it went from there. It was so silly, and Willow and I ended up with it all over us. I had gum in my eyelashes, and she had it all over her hand and between her fingers. I can’t remember a time you ever let me have chewing gum growing up.”

“Because the one and only time I did, you got it all over the house and in your hair. We had to cut it out and replace the carpet in two rooms.”

“Oh. I don’t remember that.”

“You were three. Too young for bubble gum we decided. I banned it from the house indefinitely.”

“I made some amazing friends, Father. I’ve never really had friends. Not proper ones. Dodger—that’s not his real name—Willow, Tyler, and Killian. They taught me how to jump on and off a moving train and all about the best places to ride. They took me into their group and showed me their ways. I felt the wind in my hair. I saw fields of golden grass that went on for miles and miles. I slept in a tent under the stars. I drank awful beer with a guy named RaptorZ in a trailer park. I survived a stampede of cows. I learned how to cook hot dogs on a campfire using sticks we found in the woods. I bathed in a fountain. I learned how to play euchre, for fun, and knuckles, which I’m not very good at. I smoked a joint.”

Father’s eyes widened.

“And I rode in the back of a pick-up truck when we hitchhiked to a small town in search of Tyler’s missing friend Elian. We met a pastor who invited us into his home and treated us like family all because God told him to take a different way home that night. He and his wife fed us a breakfast feast, and he drove us to our next destination the following morning.”

I bit my lip and watched my father carefully as I spoke more. “I learned what it is to love someone, and it’s nothing like what you have with Mother. Love is beautiful and freeing and all-consuming. I didn’t know my heart could feel like this. It’s scary but exhilarating at the same time. Father, while I was out there, I learned how to live in the moment and not worry about tomorrow. I learned that money can’t buy happiness. There is so much more I want to do and see. I can’t stop now. Please. I can’t go back. I want to get a tattoo and…”

Father looked like he was about to inject his opinion on that one, but somehow, he held his tongue.

“I want to see what else is out there. I want to go to the end of the line. I don’t want to go home to the life you chose for me. I know that probably disappoints you, but I have to be my own person. I have to live my own life. And I want to discover it all on my own.”

That was it. I had nothing more to say. I waited. It didn’t matter if he didn’t agree or if he objected to my decision.

Father sat with a frown on his face for a long time. He picked up my Transformer and turned it in his hand. I wondered if he was remembering Lina too. Was there ever a time he regretted firing her?

“How long do you need for this adventure? When will you return home?”

“Maybe never.”

Frustration and irritation crossed his face. “Leopold. That is not an answer.”

“It’s the best answer I can give you. I don’t know, but I want you to be prepared in case I don’t want to return.”

“And what of your family responsibility? You’re the heir to the company.”

I shrugged. “And what if I don’t want to be?”

He shook his head like the notion was preposterous. “Are you telling me you want to live like a hobo and eat from garbage bins in the street and live in a box? Do you hear yourself?”

“It’s not like that.”

“It is. I don’t think you have any idea about the world these people live in.”

“Because you’ve sheltered me.”

He grumbled, and before he could inject more opinions, I touched his arm. “Lots of kids backpack and travel across various countries seeking adventure and experience. That’s all I’m asking. Let me experience life on my own. Let me do this. Let me figure out who I am and where I want to be.”

“It’s not safe.”

I stayed quiet. It went unsaid that I’d barely escaped the abuse of my security detail in what my father had always considered a more than safe environment.

“I’m going, Father. You can accept it or not, but I have to do this.”

“Is this because of the boy? Is it because you think you’re in love with him?”

“I am in love with him. That is not in question. And yes, part of it is because of Killian, but it has more to do with having the freedom to discover what I want and who I am. I’m only twenty-three, Father, and yet my whole life has been dictated since the day I was born.”

Time swelled between us. In those quiet minutes we shared, I felt Father’s reluctant surrender. His shoulders slumped. The air left his lungs in a heavy sigh. “Will you allow me to help you?”

“How?”

“Let me fund your adventure. I can’t stomach the idea of you not having shelter or food. I would feel better if I knew you had those things available should you need them.”

I wanted to do it on my own, but it would have been stupid to tell him no. Willow’s words came back to me.

This isn’t an easy life. You’re still floating on the cash you got back in Montreal, but it will run out. You don’t know what it’s like not knowing where the next buck will come from.

I was a rookie. A greenhorn.

I nodded, acquiescing to my father’s wishes. In time, maybe things would change. I’d do it as much on my own as I could, but having a safety net wasn’t a bad idea.

“And you’ll keep in touch regularly.” It wasn’t a question.

“I will.”

“Weekly.”

“Okay.”

“And if you should ever change your mind, I want you to know you can come home. Things will be different, Leopold. I promise. I’ve made mistakes. I will do better.”

Maybe Father thought this adventure was temporary. A means of rebelling. Maybe he thought once it was out of my system in a year or so, I’d come home and be happy.

He could be right, but I didn’t think so.

It crossed my mind that the whole situation with Killian and me was backward. Didn’t the poor boy usually follow the rich boy into a life of wealth and privilege?

Here we were doing it the other way around.

With acceptance came a long day of goodbyes and preparation.

Father set me up with new clothing—appropriate clothing—better footwear that wouldn’t give me blisters, and a warmer jacket. He was insistent. My rucksack was packed according to an expert’s standards with more things than were probably necessary, but I didn’t object—so long as it wasn’t too heavy to carry.

He gave me a new phone and keys to the estate we owned in Florida—in case my travels took me to that neighborhood and I needed a place to stay. Father ensured I was set up with a proper first-aid kit and several bottles of antibiotics in case my pneumonia returned.

“But you’ll go to a hospital if it does, won’t you?”

“Yes, Father.”

Before I was ready to leave, I sent Harlan to find makeup. When Father raised a quizzical brow, I shrugged and told him smoky eyes looked good on me, and I like them. He pinched his lips together and kept his comments to himself. Maybe finding out his boy didn’t mind wearing a bit of makeup was a little too much.

It took time. My skills weren’t as good as Willow’s, but when I finished, the boy in the mirror was closer to the one I wanted to be. He wasn’t dressed in suits and ties. He wasn’t wearing five-thousand-dollar oxfords. He was a rail rider with black cargo pants, a black hoodie over a thermal undershirt, and all-weather hiking boots that had a good solid sole. I’d asked for a black bandanna too and tied it expertly over my head the way Willow had done. It was edgy, and I smiled at myself in the mirror.

Father took me in head to toe. I waited for him to tell me I looked ridiculous. I waited for him to get that expression on his face. When he chuckled, shook his head, and opened his arms for a hug, I almost cried.

“I love you, Leopold. Never hesitate to call.”

“I won’t.”

We hugged and hugged and hugged. It felt good.

In the end, Father had Stefan drive me to the other end of the city so I’d be closer to the tracks. If Killian was still in Calgary, it was the only place I figured he would be.

If I didn’t find him there, I would hop my first train for a solo ride to Vancouver since I knew that was where he was going before everything had gone wrong.

But first, I had a mission. One I’d kept to myself.

I’d done some research while hiding in the bathroom back at the hotel. With GPS pulled up on my new phone, I guided Stefan to drop me on a specific corner of the city.

“Here?” he said as he pulled into an open parking spot at the side of the road.

I scanned the street until I saw my destination a few storefronts down. “Yes. This is good. I’ll take it from here.”

“Are you sure about this?”

“Positive.”

Stefan sighed and waved a hand. “Give me your phone.”

He inputted his personal number and told me to call if I was ever in trouble. I told him I would be fine, and he told me not to argue for once in my miserable life.

“I’m not miserable. I couldn’t be happier.”

“I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

We didn’t hug.

We weren’t that close.

When I got out, Stefan gave me a wave and a smile before driving off.

This was it. I was officially on my own.

I closed my eyes and tipped my head to the sky, taking in my first full breath of freedom.

Content and ready to take charge, I scanned the street in both directions before aiming for my destination.

It was over an hour before I emerged again, a grin so wide on my face I was sure every passerby must have thought I was high.

I found a bench at a bus stop and sat down, admiring the new tattoo I’d had inked on the inside of my wrist. It wasn’t large, but it was mine. The man had covered it with clear plastic wrap and had given me a special ointment to apply when I took the wrap off. I took a picture of it with my phone and pulled up Instagram. My account had always been private, but I changed the setting and posted the picture, tagging it with enough hashtags about rail riding to hopefully catch some attention. Then I searched for my friends.

I didn’t know Killian’s Instagram handle, but it didn’t take long for me to find Dodger. He was active on all the freight-hopping forums.

@BullDodgerPro647

I sent him a private message.

Holy shit! Green, is that you?

I grinned. Did you miss me?

He sent an LOL.

Then a second message followed swiftly on its tail. OMFG! Did you get a tat?!?

He must have gone to my profile. I sent him a smiling face emoji.

Call me, I wrote next then gave him my number.

My phone rang, and I answered. “Oh my god, Green. That is the shit. I can’t believe you did it. Holy fucking hell. You’re amazing.”

“Do you think I’ll start a trend?”

“Fucking-A you will. I changed my mind. I want one now.”

We both laughed.

“Did Killer get one? Are you guys in Vancouver?”

“No. We ran into trouble. Killian and I got arrested in Calgary.”

“You what?”

I told him everything that had happened over the past week. “I need to find him. I don’t know where he went, and I don’t know how to reach him. Can you help me? He doesn’t have a phone unless he got a new one.”

“Hang on.”

All I heard after that was Dodger’s breathing. A heavy exhale made me think he was smoking.

“Got him. He’s online. He must have a new phone. Hang on. I’m sending him a message.”

“Don’t tell him you’re talking to me. I want to surprise him.”

Dodger went quiet. He was definitely smoking. “He’s typing. Hang on.” A pause. “So, did you at least get a chance to use my little gift before the cops got ya?”

I rolled my eyes. “Code.”

Dodger laughed. “He speaks the language. Listen to you. Okay. He’s outside the train yard in Calgary. He wants to call me, says a lot of shit happened. I told him I couldn’t talk at the moment. Now he wants to know why I’m asking where he is. What do I say?”

“I don’t know. Make something up. I’m heading that way now.”

“All right. I’ve got your back. I’ll keep him distracted so you can sneak up on him.”

“Thank you.”

“See you on the rails, Green.”

“See you on the rails.”

We hung up, and I hightailed it to the train tracks by the yard, assuming Killian was hanging in the same spot where we’d gotten off almost a week ago. My overfull rucksack was heavy on my shoulders, but I savored the burn. It was part of the experience, and I wouldn’t let it slow me down.