Page 83 of Tell No One
That afternoon, Delaney made him go running again. Tag was upset with him because he’d turned cold again, but didn’t want to show it. As he followed Delaney up the hill, he decided to do something different and let Delaney get further ahead, before slipping off to the side to hide behind an outcrop of rocks. It was several minutes before he heard Delaney’s voice.
“Playing hide-and-seek or have you fallen and broken your neck?”
Tag didn’t answer.
“Because I think you’re in that bunch of rocks.”
Shit.
Tag used the cover of the rocks to make his way down the slope, then hid in the bracken. Minutes later he was pounced on by Delaney.
“Tag!” Delaney called.
“Hey, you could have broken my neck.”
Delaney laughed. They lay on their backs in the bracken, in the late afternoon sun and when Delaney threaded his fingers with his, Tag’s heart almost jumped out of his chest. Moments like this kept Tag’s hope alive.
“Spycraft 101,” Delaney said. “Keep close to hedges and walls and avoid walking through the centre of fields. Keep to the side of a wood as opposed to heading through the middle because you’ll have a greater range of vision and make less noise. It’s harder to spot a moving object if it’s set against a dark background. Also be wary of crossing the skyline. Crawl over.”
Tag listened intently as Delaney described how to hide, what sort of places to hide and not hide, how to evade capture, then showed him how to break out of someone’s hold when you were captured. Though Tag failed to break any of Delaney’s holds.
“I know how to fight dirty,” Tag told him. “I’m not going to go for your balls or your eyes, but I know to do that.”
“Just talk them to death.”
“I thought you liked my mouth.” Tag pouted.
“Hmm.”
But Tag watched Delaney’s Adam’s apple shift in his throat.
“Hiding at night is more or less impossible if hunters have night vision goggles, right?” Tag asked.
“Wearing thick clothing helps, but if you’re running, that can slow you down. Cover any exposed skin with cool dirt. Hiding under survival blankets can work for a while but your heat builds up beneath them. In warm weather, staying near water can help too. Look for confusing backgrounds that might have other heat sources, like a field of sheep, or set fire to something as a distraction.”
You want me to go to Scotland?Tag didn’t ask it, but how could he think otherwise? What was all this for if not for that?
“You’re not acting as bait,” Delaney said, as if he’d guessed what Tag was thinking. “This is just in case. If someone comes here, we might need to run. We might not be running together.”
He stood and pulled Tag to his feet. “Go and hide. I’ll give you three minutes. I won’t shout when I start to look for you. You won’t get that courtesy if you’re running for real.”
Tag ran.
It was depressing how easily Delaney found him. All five times.
Tag was having trouble fathoming Delaney out. It was a little like playing chess: sometimes you didn’t realise a move was going to get you into trouble until you’d made it, then saw what you’d missed. They’d be getting along fine, more than fine, then Delaney would get pissed off with him for something or nothing and Tag got sent up to the bedroom like a naughty kid, only for Delaney to come up after a while and fuck him senseless.
There was affection sometimes, when Delaney did things like curling Tag’s hair around his finger, until he realised what he was doing and pulled away. Tag felt as if it was the beginning of the end. He shouldn’t care so much. They hardly knew each other. But he did care. He felt like he’d been promised something and it was being taken back. And he knew that wasn’t even true. Delaney had promised nothing. All Tag had asked was not to get hurt and Delaney had at least managed part of that, except Tagwashurt.
It was his own fault. He knew better than to set his expectations too high, or even to have any expectations. Yet there was something in Delaney’s eyes when he looked at him… It made Tag wonder.
Tag had never eaten so well, never exercised as much, or had sex so many times. All Delaney had to do was slip his fingers into Tag’s hair, or touch his back, or just glance at him and they ended up kissing. No matter how the kiss started, it soon changed into something else, their tongues tangling, Delaney yanking at his hair while Tag kept making all these weird gasping, whining sounds, fighting to get at Delaney’s skin and Delaney letting him. Sometimes.
In bed, they worked, yet Tag still felt as if something was pulling them apart. Or maybe they’d never been as close as he’d imagined.I don’t know this guy. And I’m never likely to.Yet he couldn’t help how he felt about Delaney. Maybe itwasthat Stockholm Syndrome because Tag had never felt like this about anyone before and although Delaney had saved his life more than once, it still wasn’t that. He couldn’t have explained to anyone why he liked this awkward, sulky, introverted stranger who wouldn’t even tell him his name. It made no sense.
While Delaney spent hours on his laptop, Tag took to wandering off on his own with a book, climbing a hill, taking off his clothes and lying on them in the sun. It was like a holiday, though he’d never had one. Since he’d come out of the YOI, he’d always worked. He liked the idea of exploring other countries, seeing how other people lived, checking out some of the world’s wonders, but his criminal conviction meant he’d never see the Grand Canyon, or Ayers Rock, or British Columbia or the Great Wall of China. Though the chances of saving up for a trip to do anything like that were zero. His past was an invisible chain around his ankle and it wasn’t fair. But then, little was.
He lay daydreaming about him and Delaney having a holiday on a beach rather than a Welsh hillside, opening the door of the place they were renting and running out onto the sand. If Tag could swim better, then he’d run into the sea. That was what holidays were like, right? Nothing much to do but laze around or do a bit of sightseeing. They’d only been in Wales for a few days but it felt longer. Even so, Tag knew it would come to an end and he’d be on his own again. The thought felt like claws dragging at his chest.
