He was too busy to advocate for his grandmother and her innocence, but not too busy to stroke his dick to photographs of one of his students while male strangers hunted each other in the woods on screen.
If Idle Delmar hadn’t been cremated, she’d be rolling in her grave.
The lawyer he’d hired right after learning that his grandmother’s belongings had been given away had come back not a day later and told him in no uncertain terms that everything the other party had was legitimate. Apparently, Bay’s grandma had gotten into gambling while he’d been at school and had lost her small fortune as well as the three story house she’d raised him in.
Setting aside the fact she wasn’t that type of person, the money at least Bay might be able to believe, but the house? That house had been in the Delmar family for generations. Even though there’d been no blood between them, Idle had taken great pains to ensure Bay knew about how every nick and scuff mark in that place had been created and exactly what family member had done the deed.
She would have rather sold her soul to the devil himself than sign away a single doily in that house.
But her thumb print had been on the digital paperwork and her signature had been right there in black and white next to it. Even though he’d been officially adopted and was considered her heir, legally there’d been nothing Bay could do to stop from being booted from his home with nothing to his name but a few thousand coin and the bike he’d left at Nate’s. He’d used the money on the only place he could afford, a rundown single story unwanted house on the bad side of town.
The first year he’d been busy trying to build up his bank account enough to be stable, as well as learning the ropes as a professor. There was a big difference between being a student at Vail University and being a teacher there.
He’d bought the new hoverbike before anything, thinking he’d need it to keep racing, to keep chasing that high, the one thing keeping him breathing even though everything else sucked ass. Finally, last year he’d saved enough to purchase an old model hovercar. It’d taken a while, but considering where he’d been left back then, his grandmother would be impressed with how quickly he’d, sort of, bounced back.
There was a roof over his head, he was making good money, and his reputation at the school had been solidified.
Which meant it was time he put in more effort to avenge the one and only person who’d ever truly given a damn about him. And if that meant he could no longer afford those indulgent trips to the Seaside Cinema? So be it.
Sila was the one who deserved thanks for waking him up in that regard as well. The anger Bay had felt learning that he was dating Shepards had rekindled that initial rage when he’d first been told by Haroon his grandmother hadn’t cared enough about him not to take shitty risks.
He hadn’t yet figured out how he was going to approach things, but taking the Shepards down a peg certainly felt like a good start. It was satisfying, if nothing else. But he couldn’t let Nate know about the poisoned tea, which meant they needed to change the topic fast.
“Is this why you asked to meet me?” He tilted his head. “I thought you said you needed my help with something?”
“Oh.” Nate leaned back in his chair and ran his fingers through the short hairs at the base of his skull boyishly. Whenever his younger sister was around, he turned into this super intense, serious guy, but if Neve wasn’t in viewing range, he came off more like a giant puppy than anything. A comparison he certainly wouldn’t appreciate if Bay ever slipped and voiced it out loud. “I forgot. I’m always setting up races for you. Time to return the favor. I’ve got one scheduled for the end of this week but my opponent pulled out at the last second. No one else is free.”
“You want me to race against you?” Bay quirked a brow. “Absolutely not. Have you forgotten what happened the last time?”
“You beat me last time,” Nate said. “This time will be different.”
“No,” Bay shook his head, “it won’t.”
Nate may have started before him, but Bay had surpassed him in skill and they both knew it. The last time they’d gone up against one another they’d still been juniors in college and, after losing, Nate had thrown a literal fit and ignored Bay for an entire week.
“So I used to be a poor loser,” Nate rested his elbows on the edge of the round table, “It’s not like you’re Mr. Perfect.”
Bay was interested in one of his students so, yeah.
“Come on, please. I’ll owe you one,” Nate pushed.
Bay sighed. “I’ve got a staff dinner that night I can’t miss, it’s mandatory.”
“Race isn’t scheduled till ten,” Nate told him expectantly.
“Can I think about it?” He wasn’t going to, but there was no way his friend was going to take no for an answer right now. The thing was, Bay couldn’t do it. He couldn’t do that to Nate. While he was confident he’d beat him a second time, that wasn’t a guarantee, and if he lost and followed through with his personal game, Nate really wouldn’t ever forgive himself.
That wouldn’t be fair. None of this was Nate’s fault.
But Bay also wasn’t willing to change the rules of his game for him. That risk, the adrenaline he got from knowing if he lost, he’d die, it was too addicting for him to give up. Logically, he understood it’d turned into a fucked-up type of safety net for him, but knowing didn’t matter.
“Sure,” Nate said. “But you have to say yes. I’m serious. I need you.”
Bay smiled and then drank from his cup, this time to help hide his expression.
Nate didn’t need him.
No one did.
