In a future where outposts swelter beneath a nuclear sun and run-gunners patrol dusty wastelands to protect against winged creatures known as devlars, Trin is the mech at the waystation in Arens. He has a thing for the gunners: rough men with strong hands and hard bodies, who roll through his garage like the hot desert wind. Gerrick’s the best gunner around, a quick draw with a deadly aim and a penchant for sharing his pallet with young men. He has a roving eye and roaming hands, and has left a string of broken hearts in his wake. Having heard the tales of Gerrick's bravery and seen the man in action for himself, Trin has fallen in love with the man he believes Gerrick to be, and he’s sure he can change the gunner’s mind if given the chance. Gerrick’s all he wants out of this blasted world, and he tells anyone who will listen. Then Gerrick rides through Arens. He’s heard the rumors of what Trin will do for a gunner who only mentions his name. What he wants to know is, what will Trin do for him?

Trin

Aissa slams the door shut behind her as she leaves and Blain still doesn’t speak. Finally Trin tries on Gerrick’s smirk, leaning his hip against the front of the truck and turning the dirty cloth over between his hands. “Is she that obedient in the sack?” he jokes. Not that he cares—he just wants to lighten the mood. Suddenly more than anything he wants to see his brother smile.


But Blain doesn’t. “I’m not going to discuss that with you,” he says in that no-nonsense manner of his. “You’re the last person who should be critical about who someone beds down with at night.”


Trin lowers his head, chagrinned. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles. He makes sure it’s loud enough for Blain to hear so he won’t have to say it again. “I didn’t mean—”


“Then let’s drop it.” Trin nods at his feet. With his chin, Blain points at the truck and wants to know, “How’s it coming along?”


Crossing his arms in front of his chest, Trin shrugs. “Alright. What’s in the bag?”


Chapter 24