Jake stepped back, his chest hurting as if Elliot had just smashed a hammer against his rib cage. His head was a hollow shell, now echoing with the cruel words.
Knight pulled Elliot away, shaking his head. “Come on. Let’s take that off and go into town. Maybe we can find out something.”
Jake took deep breaths, unable to hide just how affected he was. “Those were just the housekeeper’s diaries. She could be unaware that Roger kept changing back and forth, right?”
Elliot frowned and pressed his fingers to his eye patch as if he were getting a headache. “What do you want from me, Jake?”
Jake didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t like Elliot had any more insight into all this than anyone else. Nobody knew what had really happened but the poor man whose bones the tiny monster had crawled out from before attacking Jake, and he could no longer answer any questions.
Vars’s hand twisted in the clothes at Jake’s back, keeping him from stepping forward, and in the end, both Elliot and Knight left the room, hurrying to the apartment they now lived in together.
Joker spread his arms with a silly smile. “Well… that was dramatic. But since we’ve got the set and all, Blackstar and I were thinking about making a movie of our own. How about you join us, Jake?”
“Huh?” Jake looked at him, but his mind was still rolling over the newfound knowledge.
“You know what kind of movie,” Blackstar said, pushing her body tightly against Joker’s.
“Oh… I… I’m not really in the mood,” Jake said, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever be in the mood to be filmed during sex.
Joker frowned. “It’s an order, prospect. You got something better to do?”
The words jarred Jake out of the stupor. For once, it didn’t give him a thrill to be ordered around. He knew his place, and the hand touching his back reminded him of that. “I’m a prospect, not a prostitute,” he said, instantly embarrassed that Vars would hear him parroting the words, but what was done was done.
Joker raised his palms. “Jesus, kid. No need to get so intense about it.”
“If it’s just a proposition, don’t make it sound like an order,” Vars butted in, tossing the mask away and shedding the cape next.
Joker rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on, don’t act like you’re a protector of the innocent. He likes it. Always has.”
Jake took a deep breath. “Well, I’m kinda doing my own thing now.”
Joker burst with laughter. “Does it involve a lot of your right hand?”
“Kinda. Whatever. Have fun filming,” Jake said and stormed out before Joker could poke more fun at him.
With his heart beating frantically and tears rapidly pushing at his eyes, Jake barely registered that he was being followed until Vars pulled on his wrist and took him into his arms, squeezing gently.
“It’s all right. You have the collar now.”
Jake clutched at Vars’s sweater and pressed into the strong body, overwhelmed with the fear that flooded him now that he’d given himself permission to let go. “What if it’s not enough?”
“Then we’ll figure something out. It will be fine, you’ll see,” Vars said softly.
“I first realized I could die here when I was cleaning up after a fight gone wrong. The guy hit his head on the bar counter and died. Blood was everywhere. And I decided I still wanted to become one of the Kings of Hell. I saw how King handled everything, I saw the loyalty, the guys working together any time shit happened, and I thought that if it led me to die sooner than I naturally would, then I’d accept that. But this? I don’t want to die because I went down to some stupid basement like that idiot in horror movies, who always dies first. If I’m to die, I want it to matter.”
Vars grabbed the sides of Jake’s head and forced him to meet his gaze. There was an intensity to his eyes, which again reflected light in the odd way that made them look pinkish. “You will not die. You won’t. There’s no reason to think of this, because it’s not gonna happen.”
Jake took a deep breath and sniffed, but at least he did manage not to cry, lulled to greater peace by the tobacco aroma clinging to Vars’s fingers. “Maybe if I get to read the actual translations later, we’ll find out more,” he whispered. Vars’s steady touch had the ability to soothe Jake’s anxiety and ground him.
They both stilled, hidden away in a niche within a corridor hardly anyone visited. Dirt crunched under their feet, the air was cold, but the weight of the collar under Jake’s costume was actually calming. He closed his eyes, enjoying the closeness and trying to think less of things he had no control over.
“I’m proud you stood your ground back there, with Joker,” Vars said in the end, resting his mouth on top of Jake’s head.