They Say It Gets Easier

Part 3

Alec's POV

It had been months. Long months of torture by White, of being shifted, sold to the highest bidder. Months spent being lugged around by various parties, the last of all being the South Africans. They finally got what they wanted; a live stud, a hybrid male to poke and prod, test and try.

I'd been a test subject, a revved up guinea pig. It was only after they decided to 'breed' me that I was given some freedom. Released from my restraints, given leave to walk about the complex. Under heavy guard.

But when did that ever stop me?

"Leave him. Even if he tries to escape, he won't get far. We're on an island." The steely-eyed guard motioned to his companion to release the cuffs encumbering my wrists. I rubbed them, trying to massage the circulation back into my aching limbs.

"That was a mistake," I snarled, pouncing on the guard to my right. Loose handcuffs clicked as I chained him to the heavy, metal bunk. The other man didn't even have time to draw his gun before I knocked him out. His firearm found its way into my hand as my mind ran a mile a minute, planning, thinking, preparing.

An island, huh? And they thought that could stop me? I had everything to live for and I meant to do just that. I would go home to my Maxie - she would be mine, the connection we'd shared so briefly was definitely two-sided - home to Terminal City, to Biggs, Mole...home.

With renewed hope, I made my way out of the complex, removing the threats in my path as they came, intent on making it to the beach.

Imagine my surprise when I found myself at cliff's edge, jagged rocks rising threateningly below. An island, yes. A raised island devoid of sandy shores.

Fuck.

I calculated the distance from where I stood; how far I would have to jump to avoid the knife-edged rocks that taunted me alongside the voice of self-doubt that sprung from the far reaches of my subconscious. 'You'll never make it. Might as well give up. Jump and you're a dead man.'

Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to calm down. And then I ran.

It was some time later that I resurfaced, breaking the icy water and gasping for air. The sirens were already blaring and I knew it was only a matter of time before the search would lead them to the cliffs. I began steady strokes before diving underwater. Never before had I been so thankful to Manticore. Prolonged exposure to extreme temperatures and time spent in the tank saved my life.

I spent weeks traveling through Africa. It was only after I got to Morocco that I tried to contact Terminal City. My call was intercepted somehow, and all I got for my trouble was a full police tail that chased me relentlessly. The South Africans don't take kindly to escapees. Especially escapees that they'd spent millions on. Collaboration with the Moroccan authorities was a given, and their combined brutalities have marked my body, laying testament to my trials. But even they could not hold me back from my goal.

Finally, after close to a month laying low and keeping beneath the radar, I reached Seattle. The familiar drizzle and dark skies felt like home. It was warm and sticky. Kind of like the aftermath of a great round of sex, only without the pleasure. I trudged through the streets, coming to a halt just outside the main gates of Terminal City.

The gates swung open and a lone figure greeted me with obvious shock.

"Alec? God, I never thought I'd see you again, man!" Axel enveloped me in a tight hug.

"It's good to be back." I grinned, clapping him on the back.

We walked slowly towards the command center. I wondered at this. I was in a hurry. But I let him talk; being so long without friendly chatter had made me more receptive, despite my urgent desire to see Max. That could wait. Or so I thought.

As we stepped inside, a shocked, hushed crowd gathered around. After the initial surprise had worn off, they bombarded me with questions. I answered as best I could but after a while I noticed the absence of two important people.

"Where are Max and Biggs?" I asked finally. The room fell silent, an eerie kind of silent. My skin began to crawl when I realized the looks I was receiving were sympathetic and uncertain.

"Where are Max and Biggs?" I asked again, louder this time. Edgier.

"We're right here, why? Where's the fire?" came Max's laughing reply. I looked up to see something I never would have imagined.

Max and Biggs came into view, his arms wrapped protectively around Max's waist, chin resting on her shoulder. They looked...sated.

They hadn't noticed my presence. But there was no way I'd have missed theirs. Whispers ran amuck and I heard muted comments. Things I refused to believe.

But as I caught her eye, heard her gasp, face turning white, then to a greyish pallor, I knew it was true. My eyes burned, my heart constricted and after Biggs had lowered Max onto a chair and turned around, we locked gazes.

Time stood still. If I tried to analyze the situation, I would probably have been able to understand where Biggs stood. But all I could feel was hurt. Betrayal.

They say it gets easier. That the pain dulls over time. Whoever said that has never been in love. But I have. And I've lost.

: F I N :