Fishy Riot, page 15
“Ash.” Taylor drew attention to their brother, needing the distraction and honestly wanting to hear what he had to say. “What the hell, man? Please tell me you have insurance.”
“How dumb do you think I am, exactly?” Ashley bristled, but he couldn’t keep the excitement out of his expression either, clearly recalling his day. “I needed a new car, anyway.”
“What was wrong with your old one?” Daniel protested from where he’d taken a seat beside Chloe, Emma in his lap. “It was a perfectly sound car!” He knew because he’d had every legal check done on it before he had bought it for Ashley’s eighteenth birthday.
“Nothing was wrong with it.” Ashley rolled his eyes, sinking down in his chair as he realised the family’s attention was shifting. “Taylor got shot!” he tried to remind them.
“And you torched your car!” Hayley snapped at him.
“I did not! I just parked it behind the truck. It’s not my fault the fire exploded out those particular windows!” He was so indignant, it was taking all of Taylor’s willpower not to laugh at him, and a glance at Clay revealed he was in a similar predicament. It was great that Ashley had finally fought his first big fire, but how his car had ended up at said fire and been so badly damaged was what really interested Taylor. Ashley had a knack for getting himself into awkward situations. He would have felt compelled to go help because he was a genuinely good guy who loved his job as a firefighter.
“And you couldn’t have jumped onto the fire truck? You had to jump out a window onto your car instead?” Hayley was clearly unimpressed with whatever version of events Ashley had given so far.
“No, I just thought the car would have more give than the truck! I didn’t feel like being splattered!”
“So you did intend to damage the car!” Daniel scowled darkly. “Insurance won’t cover intentional damage!”
“It wasn’t intentional….” Ashley ran frustrated hands over his face. “Insurance is already paying for it, so there!”
“So there?” Joel blinked at him from his seat beside Clay, clearly astounded Ashley thought that was the end of it. But then, Joel probably heard that a lot. Or didn’t, because he didn’t allow those sorts of childish antics in his classroom. Clay was guffawing outright.
“I stopped the shooter!” Ashley threw in as an afterthought. “Can’t we remember that instead?”
“You mean when you nearly cut your brothers down and sent a car barrelling through the Thompsons’ fence, damaging their car, destroying their petunias, and giving their poor sausage dog PTSD?” Chloe had her unreadable face on; the one where it was impossible to tell if she was being serious. They were all quiet in the aftermath of her question.
“Uh….”
“Uh….” Joel mimicked, clearly unimpressed with Ashley’s response.
“I did not try to cut them down! I told them to duck!” Ashley finally protested, looking to them for help.
“To be fair, he did,” Taylor agreed, but he was distracted, enjoying the way Sietta’s whole body shook where he snickered against him.
“And I don’t think dogs can get PTSD,” Daniel mused, but he was looking so adoringly at Chloe you would think she had suggested he hung the moon.
“Have you seen that dog? Probably got PTSD the first time it barked and realised it was a possum not a dog.” Hayley scowled, and they were all humming in agreement.
“Besides, you’ve done nothing but whinge about that fence since they put it up!” Ashley huffed. “I did you a favour!”
“Oh whatever, if I wanted it gone, I could have dug it up any time I wanted,” Chloe scoffed at them, and Daniel almost spat out his water. “Please, I wouldn’t expect you to represent me or anything! Besides, I wouldn’t even get caught…. Just look at what they let into the police these days! Taylor’s face is still purple and now he’s full of holes. He’s like a rotting eggplant. I’ll expect his hair to fall out next.”
“Mum!” Clay and Taylor gaped at her in matching indignation, and no doubt it was the mental imagery that won a laugh from Joel.
“In all seriousness, sweetheart, if you do anything else stupid, I’m probably going to murder you myself.” Chloe cast him a look that said she would take no argument, as if that ever actually worked.
“I did not get shot on purpose!” Really, did she think he deliberately threw himself in front of the bullet? He wasn’t even sure which bullet hit him! He was just glad it had been him, and not Sietta or Clay or Micah or Joel…. What if Emma had been outside? Much better it had been him.
“I’m still not sure which bullet hit you,” Clay mused, and Taylor stiffened when Sietta sighed heavily beside him.
“The first one” was not what anyone had expected to hear. The conversation stopped entirely, something only Emma seemed to manage regularly, and everyone stared at Sietta with varying degrees of curiosity. All he did was wave a hand at his black shirt, which didn’t help everyone else, but in the sunlight Taylor realised it was stained with red. With blood. For a brief second, he panicked, thinking Sietta was hurt.
“Moron, it’s yours. Must have got it on me when you decided to audition for the Rugby World Cup on the front lawn!”
“Oh, that just won’t do! Leila, sweetheart? Can you go find a shirt for Sietta? Oh, and one for Ash while you’re at it!”
“Sure, Mum!” Leila had no complaints as she scrambled to her feet, leapt over Micah and ran inside to fetch the requested items.
“No offence, Ash, honey, but you stink.”
“I was in a fire—”
“Do not remind me!” She held up her hand and actioned that he shouldn’t even talk to it. Frighteningly, Emma copied her. She had the mime down perfectly, and she was only five.
“They shot you!” Clay was fuming again. “I mean, it wasn’t even an accident, they got you with the first bullet!” But Joel laid a firm hand on his shoulder and shared a knowing look with Daniel, silencing Clay’s protests with the dark frowns on their faces.
“I know.” Sietta shrugged, looking guilty for the most part. That was when it started to make sense to Taylor, and he froze, staring at Sietta’s profile, wishing he could crawl inside his head and figure out what he was thinking.
“They were shooting at Sietta,” Hayley realised what they were all carefully not saying. She frowned then and looked up at Daniel as if he had the answers. “Why?”
“That’s for the police to figure out,” Daniel replied softly. “A lot’s happened in the last few days. A lot of things are going to change. People don’t like change, and a lot of people aren’t happy with what’s happened.”
The Governor-General had stepped in and divested more than thirty senators of their positions, including members of the cabinet and shadow cabinet. Usually people protested the Governor-General interfering, but this time the general public seemed unanimously approving of the intervention. Polling dates had been set for re-elections in those seats, and Independents were likely to win. There was the possibility that for the first time in history Independents might hold more seats than the major parties.
“They’re looking for someone to blame, and the media has made Sietta the face of this whole thing. He’s an easy target.” Daniel took a long swig of his beer while they let that sink in.
Trust Daniel to put it all out there on the table. Joel nodded in agreement, his hand still firm on Clay’s shoulder, reining in his temper with just that touch. Taylor longed for something similar as his limbs turned cold and heavy. Someone had tried to murder Sietta. After everything Sietta had already been through, it was such a dick move, Taylor wanted to go down to the station and beat the two men until the breath rattled from burning lungs and they begged him to stop with their last breaths.
Unfortunately, that was illegal. So he had to settle for sitting next to Sietta, who had apparently figured it all out much earlier and seemed completely unconcerned. It was a front, Taylor knew, and he wanted to get home where he could hide them away in his room and ask Sietta the questions he wouldn’t give anyone else the answers to.
Leila appeared with a pile of clothes, dumping a police shirt in Ashley’s lap before going to the lounger, handing Sietta the rest of the clothes.
“What the hell?” The protest came from Ash, holding up a navy-coloured shirt in distaste.
“You’ve outgrown most of the others,” Leila argued. “Besides, maybe no one will pull you over in that trash can of a car now!” Their mother, at least, thought that was funny.
Sietta looked at the blue shirt she had handed him with a raised brow.
“I know, it’s not black.” Leila rolled her eyes. “Micah said to pick something colourful, so I did. The hoodie’s for Tay. No one here needs to be looking at that.” Leila waved a hand at his bloodied shirt.
“He could just take it off! I don’t mind looking at that!” Micah called out from the lawn, winning a spectacular glare from Sietta and a blush from Taylor, who made quick work of pulling the hoodie up his good arm and tossing it over his bad shoulder, covering up as best he could.
“Teenagers,” Joel bemoaned, but he looked mostly amused and didn’t scold Micah at all.
Sietta got up and went inside to change his shirt, and while he was gone, Ashley made quick work of swapping his shirt over, tossing the smoky one into the pool where it floated for a moment before sinking.
“I want to go home, Mum,” Taylor said softly, and for once his mother gave no protest. She’d seen he was fine, but he needed rest. Sietta definitely needed some downtime, and he needed to have trouble away from his family, in a place he could control it.
“I’ll drive,” Hayley offered, but Joel waved her off.
“I’ll drive. Clay and I are staying there tonight anyway. I’ll leave my car in the drive if that’s okay?” He waited until Daniel nodded. “Micah has a change of clothes in the back of the car, so he’s fine if you’re sure it’s okay for him to stay over?” Again with the nod. “Alright, then we’ll be off.”
And just like that, because reasonable Joel had said it, no one argued. Sietta came back to find everyone getting up, and he fell into step beside Taylor, ready to help if he needed, even though he had to know Taylor wasn’t going to need it. Joel went to check Micah was okay as they meandered their way to the front lawn.
9: The Many (Moronic) Faces of Joel
“IS ANYONE hungry? I can get some takeout?” Joel parked the car and looked in the rear-view. He was rewarded with Taylor and Clay’s stomachs’ growling loudly in perfect unison.
“We’ll go for a wander and grab some Thai from down on the corner.” Clay waited for anyone to protest. No one did. “You guys get settled upstairs. Maybe put the kettle on.”
“Sure.” Taylor rolled his eyes. “Can’t believe we went to all the trouble of going to Saturday barbeque and she didn’t even feed us.”
“I think you getting shot may have derailed Chloe’s plans somewhat.” Joel rolled his eyes as he waited until they were all out before locking the car up and heading for the gates while Taylor headed for the stairs.
“See you in a bit.” Clay waved, and they were gone. Sietta frowned at the stairs, went to offer him a hand, thought better of it, and hurried up the stairs. Taylor had barely reached the fourth-floor landing when Sietta pinned Taylor to the wall, one hand on his good shoulder, the other on his hip, lips pressed firm and warm against Taylor’s and tongue demanding entrance. Such an easy thing to grant when it was what he wanted. Taylor opened, feeling the thrust of Sietta’s tongue against his own, tickling as it stroked the roof of his mouth. He was instantly hard, all tiredness forgotten.
Sietta pulled away reluctantly and fished the keys from Taylor’s pocket, marching to the front door and pushing it open as if it had offended him somehow. Taylor let him lock it behind them, mostly because it gave him time to wrap his good arm around Sietta’s waist, lifting him easily from his feet, tucking him under his arm, and carting him to the bedroom, then dropping him on the bed and kicking the door shut.
“You shouldn’t do that,” Sietta grumbled, but he didn’t seem to have disliked it. He rolled his eyes at the confusion on Taylor’s face. “Because of your shoulder, you moron!” Oh, right. Taylor smirked and prowled onto the bed, straddling Sietta’s hips and putting his good hand down beside Sietta’s head to support himself as he leaned in and rubbed his nose against Sietta’s throat, inhaling the scent of him, and God, but the man did things to him.
“Are you smelling me?”
“Yes,” he murmured, completely unabashed.
Sietta’s hands came up to rest on his chest, his long fingers touching lightly at first, but growing bolder when Taylor only leaned in closer.
“Kiss me?” He wanted Sietta to initiate, needed to know he wanted it. He didn’t need to wait; Sietta’s hands came up to frame his face, tilt his head the way Sietta wanted it, and then their tongues were stroking, teasing, and playing in a way Taylor could never get his previous partners to stop and achieve. They saw muscles and a nice face, and they wanted it for a night. They didn’t see Taylor, or the things he didn’t like, or what he wanted. Not that Taylor had ever wanted foreplay, but this wasn’t going anywhere tonight. This was just for fun, and that was different.
“Feels so good,” Sietta whispered against his lips. “I only kissed one person before,” he admitted, his hair framing their faces, closing them into their own world where his secrets seemed safer. “I know that’s completely lame. I’m probably terrible at this, but I don’t care. I want more….”
“You’re not lame.” Taylor chuckled at him, leaning in for more kisses because he wasn’t sure he would ever get enough of those. Sietta tasted sweet and a little watery, as if his skin were infused with all that tea he drank. He was warm and pushed up against him without even noticing what he was doing, until Taylor worried he would come in his pants from the vague friction alone.
“Only one person?” His brain caught up a little, realising Sietta probably hadn’t had much chance before his imprisonment, and certainly hadn’t been given the opportunity during. And now… well, now Taylor was more than happy to give the man whatever the hell he wanted. As long as it really was what he wanted.
“Are you sure? I mean… me?” Even Clay wouldn’t recommend him as boyfriend material, but even as he thought it, he realised that was exactly what he wanted. He wanted Sietta to be his boyfriend. He wanted Sietta to be his partner. His whatever. His everything, because if anyone else got to lay a hand on him, he was going to lose his mind. But Sietta had to want it too, and the fear that maybe he was only hurting and damaged cut so deep, Taylor could barely acknowledge it.
“I’ve never been surer of anything in my life,” Sietta said, his voice gentle but firm. “I was in the hospital… you were in surgery, you know? I knew you were fine, but I went to the bathroom, and I realised I was wet. I had your blood on me. I had to wash it off, but I didn’t want to wash even that much of you away. I liked it on me. I wanted you so badly I couldn’t think straight. I just knew, right then. I know I probably sound batshit crazy, but I don’t care. You’re mine. I want you. I’ve never wanted anything the way I want you. You make me crazy and sane, all at the same time.”
“Yeah.” Taylor reached up and pushed Sietta’s hair back behind his ear, stroking his thumb over Sietta’s temple. “I know that feeling.” He wondered if that was how Clay had felt, that first time he spotted Joel. He’d certainly seemed crazy when he finally came home the next day, raving about the love of his life. But Taylor wondered if maybe he understood a little better now.
“You’re like a walking wet dream,” Sietta mumbled. “It’s ridiculous.” His hands were still stroking over Taylor’s pectoral, down his abs, pinching his hip. Sietta seemed fascinated by every line of him. It made Taylor chuckle, soft and low, and harder when Sietta glared at him.
“Si… you’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. Guess we have different wet dreams, but as long as they match up, we’re good, yeah?”
“Just… I’m not gonna be good at this, you know?” Sietta’s eyes were wet, and he bit his lower lip to keep from saying more, but he didn’t need to. Taylor smiled and pulled him in for more kisses.
“Look, I know you have no clue, but you’re kind of good at everything.” Taylor chuckled at him, silencing his protests with another kiss. “And even if you’re not, you’re perfect for me. But while we’re pointing out our faults to one another, I suppose I’ll help you out and admit I’ve only ever had two serious partners, and by serious I mean they lasted more than a week. They both dumped me. They both to this day would tell you I’m an asshole, and they would both be right.”
That made Sietta pause, blinking and looking up at him as if he had suddenly grown a spectacularly fascinating second head.
“You’re pretty blunt sometimes, but honestly… your family is nuts. I defy anyone to have a conversation with them that doesn’t end with you acting like an asshole to get away….”
And right then Taylor knew he was in love. He pinned Sietta to the bed and showered him in enough kisses to make up for the time Sietta had lost he could have spent getting kissed.
“If you’re having sex in there, I just want to remind you there’s a hole in your shoulder you shouldn’t be putting any pressure on, so Sietta better be on top! And I mean that in the physical sense, not the sexual sense, I really don’t care or want to know who’s got their dick in who, okay?” Clay bellowed from the other side of the bedroom door.
Taylor had a short moment of dismay before Sietta was howling with laughter, and only because of that did Taylor not storm out and castrate his twin.
“There’s food when you’re ready,” Joel added through the door. “And fresh bandages for your shoulder if you wanted to have a shower.” Great, they were both listening to Taylor and Sietta make out. That wasn’t embarrassing at all.
