“You’ll be safe at the junkyard,” Jag muttered, speaking up for the first time since the conversation started, but his hand slipped out of Dane’s. Something was off about him, and after weeks in Jag’s presence, it was as obvious to Dane as the fact that the sun would come up each morning.
He wasn’t sure what to make of it or of his own feelings, because whenever he glanced at Jag’s face, he wanted to kiss his lips and soothe him, and yet he’d been kept prisoner by this man. Chained until only days ago. He had meant it when he wrote that he’d come back, but logic said he should never speak to Jag, or see him again.
By all standards, Jag was a criminal, and a beast who abused Dane.
Yet there he was, in a hospital gown, barely able to stand, and with glistening eyes. How could Dane judge him by the standards of his own world when Jag was a creature like no other, brought up in a culture different to Dane’s?
According to the values he’d been raised with, Jag had done everything right. He’d nursed Dane to health, kept him safe, fed, showered him with gifts, and waited with his affections until Dane was ready to reciprocate. Could Dane really blame him for not quite understanding that his way of life wasn’t for everyone?
He squeezed the foamy meat of the sofa and adjusted his glasses, looking up at his parents. “Yeah, I think it’s time to go. I’ll be in touch.”
I could drop a message into your mailbox next time I’m in town,” Shane proposed, but just as a sense of peace settled over the room, someone knocked on the door, making everyone stiffen.
“I’ll get that,” Shane said, and to Dane’s horror, he touched a familiar shape poking through his T-shirt at the back. Had this fucker brought a gun to Dane’s family home?
But moments later, Shane came back with a young blond guy dressed in sporty clothes that revealed a multitude of tattoos covering everything but his boyish face. “Hey, I’m Dex, Frank’s nephew. What did I miss?”
Chapter 17 – Dane
The drive back in Shane’s car was one of the weirdest in Dane’s life. He felt refreshed and alert in a way he shouldn’t be at 3a.m., and Jag rested next to him, wrapped in a comforter like a human burrito. Most of Jag’s face was hidden behind a curtain of shaggy hair and he didn’t speak much, letting the radio fill the silence.
Dane tried to organize his thoughts, but his mind kept racing too fast for him to catch up. He’d packed a whole duffel bag of his own clothes for the days or even weeks ahead, but had also taken the pants Jag had adorned with pieces of old CDs for him. He’d claimed they shone like Dane’s eyes, and while the style wasn’t aligned with any fashion Dane knew of, he couldn’t make himself get rid of them.
To kill the awkwardness hanging in the air like the stench of sweat in a locker room, Dane settled on checking the news he’d missed on a spare phone Mark had given him. He’d also taken three extra power banks just in case he ended up in Jag’s den, though Frank was adamant to keep them at his place for the foreseeable future.
Shane was facetiming with his partner Rosen, explaining the situation in embarrassing detail, and didn’t shy away from flashing the screen toward Jag, to show what pathetic state he was in.
Jag turned his face away, scowling in discomfort, and Dane found himself leaning forward and placing his hands on the front seats in order to hide him from the camera. “Can you not do that? He’s got the right to privacy.”
Shane snorted. “His misguided sense of privacy kept your presence hidden from us for a month. I have no sympathy.”
Dane chewed on the inside of his cheek, flushing harder. “Get off his case! He’s already suffering because of it.”
“Good!” Shane snapped, his profile sharp when he glared Dane’s way. “Maybe he’ll think next time he wants to abduct a man because he can’t find a fucking date!”
Jag looked up with those piercing golden eyes and growled like a beast trying to ward off an intruder, but in his state, he’d have no chance to win any battle.
The logical part of Dane’s mind itched to side with Shane, who seemed reasonable for someone who earned his living disposing of bodies, but each time he glanced at Jag’s normally strong form and saw it curled up under the blanket, weak and injured, all he wanted was to pack him into bed and make sure he didn’t have to suffer a single discomfort.
“It’s not the time for this. And I’m fine. Nothing bad happened in the end!”
Shane glared over his shoulder with a deep frown. “Oh, really?”