Black Equation - The Gifted Ones

Number Nineteen

Don’t turn around to see the past, keep it locked away,

Face the future with bright eyes, hear the words I say,

I’ll love you till the end of time, until my heart stops beating,

I’ll shelter you from any storm, until my breath stops breathing. – Bright Eyes

Number Nineteen

Faye is finally home.

Krad suddenly straightened like a rod at the sound of the approaching jet. He squinted against his shades and saw the tiny fleck of aviation that just passed through the last of the barriers. For some reason he couldn’t fathom, his hands were clammy. Ivan elbowed him in the gut, laughing at how pale his companion was.

“Quit squirming like a girl, Bee,” the man admonished as he climbed down his seat. He leaned against the jeep. “It’s not like you are here to propose.”

He chose to ignore the remark, but frowned at the strange pet name Ivan gave him. “Bee?”

Ivan rolled his eyes like Krad was an idiot for not being witty enough. “Coz you’re my bee, and I’m your honey.”

Krad gagged, and at the sound of rowdy laughter, nicked the Russian’s chin with a swift left hook.

“Chill there. No need for violence!” But Ivan was still laughing, and it only pissed him more.

“I’ll give you violent!” He grabbed the man’s collar and head-butted him.

“Dude, not the face!” Ivan truly looked horrified. His hand went to his forehead, massaging it with a pathetic attempt of finding a bump. He ended up crossed eyed. “I don’t want my lovely Anya to get worried!”

Krad stared at his fists like they contained deadly bacteria. “This is why I don’t like hanging out with you.” He had that face that clearly said Ivan is gay.

“I am 100% straight. You want me to prove it?” He raised a mean brow, and pointedly looked down.

Krad even looked more terrified. Who knew it would be fun teasing the renowned 01? Such a prissy prick. “What! I – I’ll tell your wife that you’re… you’re committing adultery with men!”

If only everyone could see this side of him. No one would believe that this red-faced Krad was the famous cruel, egomaniac Equation. And he captured it on his phone. Perfect! “You’re a blubbering mess, you know that? I shall post this on YouTube! Hot guy drools over a hotter guy!”

His blue eyes widened to the size of helicopter blades. “I’ll kill you! I mean it!”

Ivan raised his hands in defeat. His phone now lay broken at his feet. When did Krad get that wire around it? “Geez, you have no humor in your bones, Krad.”

Krad socked him – damn, that was fast – and snorted at him with derision. “Believe me, I have plenty of them, just not as gross and lame as yours.” Then, he smirked. “Now that I’ve calmed down, let’s meet our princess.”

“You were nervous?”

“Yes, I get nervous like any other person. Is that so hard to believe?”

“Well, you always got that swagger,” Ivan smirked back, his blue-red eyes glittering with mischief. He stepped away from the man, a little too fast that Krad suspiciously narrowed his eyes at him. Ivan couldn’t care less.