Alter Arlo

by Nordika Night

“You can’t kill him, or Keiran dies. Please. Put the gun down and let me explain.”

It was my first and last job as a cop because I just so happened to be the one to unlock Arlo’s cage and let him out. I set him free, and in his mind, I saved him. So he bonded with me.”

I see him but do not know him. I feel him but cannot touch him. I follow him but cannot catch him.

“Arlo’s alters aren’t evil,” Dante insisted. “They’re nice, protective, creative, and brilliant. They’re there to protect the main host, even if they don’t know they’re doing it. So, you’re right, Zade, alter egos, or whatever the fuck you call them, aren’t evil. But in this case, the main host is. Arlo is. He was made evil by his childhood. It sucks, but…”

Holy fuck. My jaw tensed from fighting back tears, my throat burned, and my eyes blurred. I wrapped an arm around Zade’s waist, ready to pull him away, protect him from this hurt, deal with his anger, whatever he needed.

“We’ll figure this out,” I told him. “Together.” I smacked his cheeks. “I fucking pick you too, Zaden. Every goddamn time. I pick you.”

“I cared. Cadoc cares. Finn cares.” I looked at him, seeing and not seeing his face. “You know Finn?” “Yeah, and if you leave him, he’ll die because of it. And if you leave my boyfriend, he’ll die, too. He needs you, Zaden. He needs you to help him keep Keiran.” “You know Keiran?” “Don’t leave them, Zaden. Don’t leave them.”

It’s a sign of healing, and Arlo doesn’t want to heal. When healing happens, the alters morph and change to accommodate that healing. Like…they aren’t needed anymore, so they disappear or become less frequent.”

Keiran and Finn are the main two. There’s another one called Honey who comes out often enough, but you guys bring out the good ones, and I’m not even ashamed to say that I used you for it.”

I fit in here. Finn was here. Cadoc was here. I was here.

“Good morning.” Shit. Giddy excitement swirled with nerves and made me a dick. “Morning.”

Last night, he’d been way out in the hills, probably torturing people and raping Lowell Brandish, and now he was just casually walking down the street like he had no fucking idea. Did they sleep? Did they take a break? How did they function when they had to be in so many different places on such a tight schedule?

Could I really blame the actions of Arlo Thorne on Finnegan?

Finn’s gloved fingers brushed against my side, a casual act for a man who hated touch. It lit me the fuck up.

Did he move like Keiran? Not even his voice was the same as the creepy ghost’s, and my mind wasn’t having a fun time trying to make sense of it all. How could I have met the same person twice and never clued in that they were the same? They walked different, talked different and acted different, so much so that it was hard to believe they were in the same body.

“It’s a lamination kit. Peel and stick. To protect your photo.” He looked at his gloved hands, shy.

“You’re changing me, Zaden Enge.”

“I’m scared of losing you. Of missing you. Of wanting you more than you want me. Of pushing you away when you get tired of my phobias. Of having you and losing you in the same lifetime. I…I don’t think I’d survive it.”

“Get out.” “This is my office.” “Get the fuck out, Finnegan.”

I blocked out the fact that these hands had freely and willingly touched Cadoc as Keiran. I blocked it out that Arlo touched Lowell with these hands. I tried not to get self-conscious that Finnegan still struggled to touch me with them. Why was I the only who had to beg for this touch?

“I want to see you, Finnegan. All of you. Even the parts you don’t remember.”

I closed the space between us, our chests brushing, our cocks grazing and our breaths mingling. Before he had too much time to think about it, I kissed him. When he moaned, I kissed him harder.

Kissing Finnegan was like tasting control. He was the forecaster of his own life, and even though he vanished without wanting to sometimes, he was always in control of who he was while here.

All the goddamn ways, Finnegan. I just want you. Don’t disappear on me.”

I didn’t give a fuck that Keiran was some version of Arlo. I spent my time being all bummy about it, and now I was just fucking ready to move on with him. He might be housed inside the body of a lunatic, but he was loonier. He was a poet and a riddler, a dreamer and a stalker, and he was mine.

“Do you regret it?” “Chasing you?” he asked; I nodded. “No. Took me a long time to catch you, but you’re worth the trouble.” “What makes me worth the trouble?” “Your taste. I’ve licked.” He leaned into me this time, his tongue running from the base of my throat up to the corner of my mouth. I shivered. Hard. “Favourite flavour.”

“I’ll promise you this, my nothing.” He leaned in until our foreheads were pressed tight together and our wide-open eyes were connected in unfocused proximity. “I’ll put on a show for you, and when it’s over, we’ll face another fear together.” “Which fear?” “You’re going to fuck me,” he said casually. “And we’re going to invite your lover to grant permission.”

Keiran’s hands—the same hands Finn had wrapped around my cock this morning—flexed and loosened at his side, the paint covering the rose tattoos cracking and splitting. He walked right between Simon and Doom, stopping next to Dante. Oh, shit. Was he going to reveal his true master?

“You psycho, Kei?” Cadoc asked. “For you,” Keiran answered Cadoc. “But not for this.”

Keiran just showed Dante that he was no longer under his rule; Cadoc was Keiran’s master now, and no one else.

I saw the man my brother fell in love with all those years ago; he was in there, settled in the light blue of Cadoc’s eyes, looking out from within while this new version of him rose to the surface.

Instead of burying Cadoc’s grief, Keiran consumed it, channelling it on Cadoc’s behalf by turning it into something useful.

How could I hate Arlo when Finnegan came from him?

Something connected us, but it wasn’t clear what. Now we were invested in two different people who shared one body, and that only upped our loyalty, deepened the hatred, and intensified the tension.

“You suffering. And no one ever looked after you. Not like you deserved, so let me try to do it now, yeah? I’ll fuck it all up and hurt you with rubbing alcohol, but…that’s all I’ve got to give, so…just fucking let me give it because I should have been giving it all along. Since we were young.”

It was times like these rare moments of vulnerability, where I realized that Arlo was a bad person trying to do good things in bad ways.

Finn might be the brains, but Keiran was the subconscious.

“Arlo.” “Cadoc Dire.”

“I will answer your calls now.” He nodded to my pocket where the radio from Mickey was. “No Dante.”

“Don’t wear Keiran’s face again.”

I kicked my feet in the water, churning up Zander. Was he going to rise to the surface if I took another man? Keiran said he’d invite him while I faced this fear, but I thought maybe he was already here, lurking in the water, just waiting to pull me under when I betrayed him.

“Why me, Kei? Why are you helping me?” “Because when my lights turn off, your face keeps me here.”

“I want you because you’re you. The chaos and the fear are only attractive because of the monster they belong to. I’ll do your nails after. I used to want to do nail art.”

“Can I take it off?” “Unmask me.”

“Get on your back,” he demanded, his eyes reflecting the stars. “I’m going to baptize you.” Keiran pushed me off him, ripping my jacket open and stalking me like prey. “On. Your. Back.” He crawled towards me.

Good lawd.

he was a ghost come to life. The phantom of my life. The eyes in the vents. The stalker I stalked back. The crazed poet who saved me from my grief.

Zan was the life I lived for. He was everything to me, the light in my dark world and the only thing that kept me sane. But Keiran was my tether to insanity, my reminder to keep living despite the pain, the chaos, and the fear. Keiran was new hopes combined with old dreams, mixed in with the threat of disappearance.

“Do you see that we are not the same? That life can move in different lanes and still get to the same place? That baggage can be heavy, but it strengthens us to carry it? That light and dark are but shades of grey. You, Cadoc, are our shade of grey.”

“No,” Lowell said, whispering. “No, he can’t. Arlo needs someone to show him that…Arlo needs help.”

I had no love for Arlo, but that body was mine to protect, and for once in our miserable fucking lives, I knew me and Cadoc would be on the same page.