The bar felt safe. The rest of the world… well, he didn’t know. How was he supposed to tell who was a friend and who was a Wolf? If someone was part of Somerset’s world or part of Dylan’s?
No. He’d have to go out eventually, just like he’d have to give up hope he’d wake from his coma, but not yet. There had to besomethinghe could eat in here. He’d make do with anything.
Anything turned out to be half a bag of Funyuns clipped shut and shoved behind the till. That would do. So far this week, he’d killed Christmas, so a stolen bag of chips wasn’t even going to register on his conscience. He unclipped the bag and rustled it open to grab a handful. They weren’t exactly fresh, but they’d do.
At least Stúfur had no hand in cooking them.
He was down to the crumbs in the bottom of the bag when a vaguely familiar face popped in around the edge of the door. It took a second for Dylan to place him, and when he did, it wasn’t the broad, good-humored face that clicked with him. It was the dressing still slapped over his ear.
The bouncer.
Harry? Something like that. The one who didn’t like blood.
“Hey,” Dylan said awkwardly as he straightened up and brushed the crumbs off his fingers. “Somerset is in the back if you want him.”
Harry scratched at his eyebrow. “Oh,” he said. “Wow. I didn’t know you and he were, you know, a thing.”
Habit made Dylan start to deny it, but he supposed that ‘a thing’ was probably the best way to describe his… thing… with Somerset. He still blushed, his ears hot and itchy, as if the world was normal and this was the most awkward part of his day.
“We just… um,” Dylan said. Spluttered. “It’s… new.”
Harry nodded. “Yeah. Cool. Cool.” He came into the bar. “I was actually looking for you.”
“Me?” Dylan asked. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and he glanced under the bar casually. He’d seen the Just-As-High’s bartender come out with a baseball bat during a fight before. If Harrywasn’tHarry anymore, it might buy him a few minutes. “Why would you look for me here?”
Harry shrugged as he leaned on the bar. His elbow was very close to a smudge on the counter that looked unsettlingly like Dylan’s ass. Dylan gave up the hunt for the bat and grabbed a cloth to give that a quick buff out instead.
“I didn’t know where to find you,” Harry pointed out easily as he went to grab a Funyun from the packet and came up empty. He looked mildly disappointed. “But you and your pretty friend often turn up here, so I figured I’d leave it behind the bar. That way, you could still get it, even if I wasn’t on shift.”
The rag wasn’t exactly clean. It left smudgy white smears on the dark, liquor-marked wood, but it was better than an ass print.
“Get what?” he asked.
“Oh, you must have dropped it the other night,” Harry explained. “I grabbed it on my way out—thought it belonged to someone on staff. It was only when I looked at it that I realized your name was on the back.”
He pulled the watch out of his pocket, set it on the bar, and pushed it over to Dylan.
“D. H.,” he said and cocked his head to the side when Dylan didn’t react. “I figured that was probably you, right?”
It was.
“Yeah,” Dylan said. He reached for the watch and picked it up to check the back. There it was. His initials. His grandfather’s too, he guessed. For some reason, he’d never really thought about that before. Dylan wrapped his fingers around the watch, and theitchof unease that had dogged him since yesterday finally faded. “Thanks. It’s… it was my grandfather’s.”
Harry beamed and nodded his head. “I figured it was important to you,” he said. “It looked old, but shit, you know? That usually means it’s got sentimental value. Anyhow. Oh, and remember to tell your partner what a stand-up guy I am.”
Dylan took a breath and tried for a grin. It felt slightly off, but Harry didn’t seem to notice. “I’ll do that.”
Harry nodded. They stood awkwardly as Dylan tried to scavenge up some sort of normal conversation from the static in his head.
“He disappeared,” he said. “When I was a kid. This is all he left.”
“Wow,” Harry said. He rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s… that sucks. I should go. I’m on shift tonight, so I’ll maybe see you then. Or not. It’s your thing.”
Harry backed up a few steps, nodded his head uncomfortably, and then turned to leave. Dylan waited until he was gone to let out the breath he’d been sort of holding.
He had the watch.
Now all he needed to do… was decide if he should tell anyone about that. For now, he was free to walk away. That would change if he told the three men in the kitchen how he got the watch and who he thought his grandfather had been.
