“Uh, I am two minutes away from standing in front of a guy who might have murdered another guy for me. I don’t know if I can do this.”
Jackson gave him a reassuring look. “You are one of the fiercest, scariest people I know. You’re always ready to fight, even when nobody’s challenging you. You’re tougher than you know.”
“This isn’t exactly the same as me telling some crotchety old lady at the grocery store to get fucked. This is somebody who might potentially want to kill you and/or me.”
This time, it was Jackson who was left without a chance to respond as a man in his thirties made his way from the elevators towards them. He was dressed in khakis and a black polo shirt with a WPI logo. He did not have the same confident air as David Caine. If anything, he seemed to walk with his head down, eyes on his shoes. This was Day’s supposed stalker.
“Mr. Delgado?” Jackson queried when the man was in earshot.
“No, sir. I’m Ben. Mr. Delgado is my manager. I am not sure what you needed to see him for, but when he got back from lunch and saw the note on his desk, he grabbed his stuff and bolted. He didn’t even take his laptop,” the man said, seeming confused and apologetic.
“Can you tell me what the message said?” Jackson asked.
“Only that he needed to go speak to Mr. Caine in security, sir.”
Both Jackson and Day exchanged looks, but then Jackson nodded. “Tell Mr. Caine that we thank you for his help and that we’ll attempt to reach out at another time.”
With that, Jackson was wrapping his arm around Day’s waist and guiding him towards the glass doors.
Once they were back in the car, Jackson hit the bluetooth directing the system to call Linc, who answered on the first ring. “Hello?”
“Hey, Delgado’s in the wind. A message from security spooked him. Since it didn’t mention Day or me directly, maybe he thought the company was onto his identity swap. I’m going to head directly to his last known address. Can you swing by and pick up Day?”
“What? No! I’m coming with you,” Day snapped. “What about the plan to see how he reacts to me?”
“That was when we were in a busy well-lit building with lots of witnesses and it was highly unlikely he was armed,” Jackson said, his voice infuriatingly calm.
“Well, I’m not letting you go in alone,” Day fumed, crossing his arms over his chest.
Linc chuckled. “I’ll meet you there, regardless,” he said before disconnecting.
“Fifteen minutes ago, I was the fiercest person you knew. Now, I’m some fragile, delicate fucking flower who needs a babysitter?” Day said, glaring at Jackson.
“Fifteen minutes ago, you were terrified of meeting this same guy in an office building full of people. Now, you want to go storming into his house where he may have a whole stockpile of weapons?” Jackson countered, tone just a little too fucking smug for Day’s liking.
“Sometimes, you can be a real asshole,” Day muttered, setting his jaw and turning to look out the window, giving Jackson the silent treatment the rest of the way to their destination. He seemed perfectly fine with that arrangement, which only irritated Day further.
When they pulled into a nondescript apartment complex that looked like beige blocks of concrete with Spanish tile and brown shutters, Jackson called Linc once again and confirmed he was ten minutes out. They parked in front of what Day could only assume was Delgado’s apartment building.
“Hey,” Jackson said softly. Day craned his head farther away from Jackson, feeling both childish and justified. “Oh, so that’s how it is, huh? You don’t get your way and you’re just gonna pout about it? I’m trying to protect you. Thatismy job, remember?”
“Itwasyour job. Now, you’re my boyfriend, not my bodyguard, and I don’t need you to protect me.”
“That’s not what you said this morning. You said you like that I take care of you. You said you like not having to make decisions for yourself. You’re giving me whiplash here, baby. I’m never going to put your life at risk, Day. No matter how much you pout or stomp your foot or cry about it. If you don’t like that, then I don’t know what to tell you. This is who I am.”
Day’s face turned bright red, humiliation flooding through him. He had said that. After telling Jackson just last night that he needed time to trust him, not twelve hours later, he’d vomited all his deep, dark longings and how much he needed Jackson to take care of him. No wonder Jackson had whiplash. Still, Day didn’t want to give an inch. Maybe he was trying to sabotage himself, or maybe he just wanted to get his way, but he couldn’t stop himself from saying, “I finally trust you enough to tell you my feelings and you’re going to use that against me to get your way? Wow. That’s really shitty, Jackson.”
“You know what?” Jackson said, sounding angry for the first time since they’d met. Angry with Day. Day’s chest burned. “I’m sorry if you’re mad, but I’m never going to let you risk your life. Never. You can get over it or not, but you’re mine and I protect what’s mine. And I’m sorry if you don’t like that either, but it doesn’t change the facts, so if you want to sit here and be a brat and give me the silent treatment, go ahead. It won’t change my mind because I’m a grown-ass man who isn’t easily manipulated. But, if you want to play this game, I’ll be happy to show you what happens to brats as soon as we get home.”
Day’s head whipped around to look at Jackson whose stubborn expression and flared nostrils made his heart skip a beat. He didn’t know why Jackson’s words put a lump in his throat but they did. Still, he didn’t say anything.
Jackson’s gaze strayed away from Day to look out the windshield toward where a man was dumping a duffle bag and a garbage bag into the trunk of an older Dodge. “That’s him.”
Day squinted. The man wore a ratty blue t-shirt, well-worn jeans, and converse. He didn’t look like a stalker…but he also didn’t look like a rapist and a murderer, so Day supposed looks could be deceiving. Jackson reached across Day and opened the glove box, removing a gun and tucking it into the waistband of his pants before smoothing his black sweater over it.
The man left his trunk open but jogged across the parking lot and back up the stairs that led to the next floor. “Linc should be here in a minute. Do not get out of the car. I’ll see you back at the house.”
Jackson didn’t give Day a chance to respond, just leaned over to pop a kiss on his slightly open mouth, and then he was gone, bounding up the stairs after a potential murderer, leaving Day behind to try to wrap his head around what had just happened. Had he really made Jackson mad right before he ran off to confront a killer? What the fuck was wrong with him?
