Spencer’s stomach turned. He already hated the guy, but hearing all that made it worse. Great! A decorated asshole with a badge and a bank account.
“Don’t tell me he’s on the list for the party,” Spencer said, already knowing the answer but praying he was wrong.
“He is,” Nathan confirmed. Then he paused, as if he were bracing for impact. “And you want to know what’s even worse?”
Spencer’s voice dropped. “Nothing is worse than that.”
Nathan looked him dead in the eye. “Jamie Butler was on the list too.”
Spencer gasped, feeling as though the air had been knocked out of him. “When did he make reservations?”
“In November.”
Spencer’s fists tightened.November.That meant Tom had planned this. Had brought Jamie here, made him feel wanted, only to leave him in the snow like trash. Spencer’s chest burned with fury.
“So that fucker planned all along to dump Jamie.” Spencer’s voice shook with rage.
Nathan nodded. “Looks that way.”
Spencer stood up, pacing the room like he couldn’t sit still anymore. His thoughts were spiraling—Jamie’s face when he talked about being left, the way he still tried to smile through it, and the way he didn’t even know he’d been set up.
“What are you going to do about it?” Nathan asked.
Spencer stopped, eyes dark. “I’m going to have a little visit with him about Jamie.”
Nathan sat up straighter, alarm flashing across his face. “That’s a crazy idea. I don’t want you in prison over some asshole.”
Spencer knew Nathan was right. He knew it. But the thought of Tom walking around like he hadn’t shattered someone—like Jamie was just another name on a list—made Spencer want to break something. He wanted to grab Tom by the collar and make him feel even a fraction of the pain he’d caused.
But then he thought of Jamie. Sweet, quiet Jamie, who didn’t even know he was on the list with Tom. Who probably still blamed himself.
Spencer sat back down, rubbing his hands over his face. “I don’t know if I should tell him,” he muttered. “Or if we should just go and see what happens.”
Nathan didn’t answer right away. Spencer could feel the weight of the decision pressing down on him. He didn’t want to hurt Jamie more. But he also couldn’t let Tom get away with it.
“I could uninvite him, and that would solve part of the problem, and Jamie wouldn’t ever have to know,” Nathan said.
“Jamie deserves the truth. But he also deserves peace. And I don’t know which one will give him what he needs.”
Nathan half-opened the desk drawer as if he didn’t know what he should do. He finally opened it and pulled an envelope out. “This has Tom and Jamie’s applications. It’s not pretty especially when I see Jamie’s side of it.”
Spencer snatched the envelope from Nathan’s hand, already bracing himself for whatever garbage was inside. This file wasn’t just paper—this was proof. Proof of what kind of man Tom really was.
He flipped open Tom’s application first. Right there at the top was a photo of him in full uniform, polished and smug, like he was posing for a recruitment poster. Chief of police. Of course he was. Spencer’s stomach turned.
Marine background. Two tours. Brentwood address. The guy had credentials, money, and power—and he used all of it like armor. But what really made Spencer’s blood boil was the line under “What are you looking for?” Tom had written: A young little who takes orders without complaints. I can support him if he doesn’t have a job.
Spencer’s jaw clenched. Takes orders without complaint? What the hell was this—some kind of twisted boot camp? Littles weren’t soldiers. They were people. Vulnerable, tender, trusting people. And Tom wanted someone to control, not to care for.
Then came the kicker. Under “Last relationship,” Tom listed someone else. Not Jamie. Not even a mention. Spencer’s hands tightened around the paper. So Jamie didn’t even exist to him? Just a placeholder until the next one?
There was a cell number at the bottom. Spencer pointed to it and said, “Send this to my email.”
Nathan nodded.
Spencer flipped to the next page. Jamie’s application.
His heart sank. Spencer’s eyes lingered on the line until the words blurred. Didn’t have one right now. The sentence hit him like a shove to the chest. It made Spencer’s stomach twist. That bastard Tom had let Jamie think he had a daddy. Had let him believe he was wanted, chosen, kept.
