Oh, fuck no.
Dread spread through Jayne like autumn leaves across a lawn, growing in volume until not a single inch of him was left untouched. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and the muscles in his calves involuntarily twitched, like at any minute, he’d need to sprint out of the fairytale apartment to seek safety.
Not that he’d be able to.
The pieces fell into place. Bastian, the bastard that he was, had made sure he couldn’t run—sometime last night, he’d found a way to slip roofies into Jayne’s drink. It seemed impossible, but if what Caleb and his blond brother were saying was true, Jayne didn’t doubt it. Somehow, without the drink ever having left his hand, Bastian had found a way to fuck him up.
Jayne deflated.
The club was where he went to escape all of the terrible things in his life, Bastian included. If he didn’t have that anymore, then what did he have left?
The situation was too bleak to fully consider. Once Jayne’s legs were functional and he’d found his way home, he’d come back to the thought. Until then, it was better left tabled.
He refused to break in front of Caleb and the blond.
“Do you have a crazy ex?” Caleb asked. “It was hard to tell if the guy was for real, or if he was spouting nonsense. I mean, he called you Jayne.”
Jayne covered his face with his hand. It was Bastian. If he hadn’t believed it before, he believed it now. “My nameisJayne.”
“Shit.” It sounded like Caleb was frowning. Jayne peeked at him from between his spread fingers. He was. “Everett, I owe you twenty bucks.”
Everett, the blond, grinned. “Score.”
“Listen… thanks for looking out for me last night.” Jayne dropped his hand and looked between Caleb and Everett, unsure where he should focus his attention. “It was above and beyond of you to go out of your way to help out a stranger. You got me out of a tight spot, so… thanks.” Their expressions brightened, particularly Everett’s—his earnest blue eyes came alive with pride. “But right now, I’ve got to go. It’s past midnight and my carriage has turned back into a pumpkin. I can’t stay.”
Caleb frowned. “But I cooked bacon.”
“I’m sorry. Maybe some other time.”
Goodbyes didn’t bother Jayne. At least, normally they didn’t. People came and went in life, either by choice, or by force. It was a fact he’d come to accept, and one he no longer let hold him back. Something about Caleb and Everett, however, made him regret that it was time to say goodbye so soon. Under different circumstances, it might have been nice to eat poorly cooked bacon, shoot the shit, and maybe even get into the sentient, festering boil of a human being that was Bastian. With Parker and Shep waiting, Jayne’s hands were tied.
“Caleb’s got a car,” Everett said. He’d taken to leaning against the kitchen island, one arm rested on its surface. “If you want, I can throw on some clothes and drive you wherever you’d like to go.”
“I’ll be fine on my own.” Jayne flashed them his cell phone. “Before I left the bedroom, I pulled up the Uber app. Even without my magical carriage, I’m a tap away from a ride of my own.”
Everett shrugged. “It wouldn’t bother me any. I’ll be out the door in about fifteen minutes, anyway.”
Tempting, but Jayne knew better than to ask strangers for a ride, if not for his own safety, then for Parker’s. The idea of sitting shotgun next to someone like Everett, as appealing as it was, wasn’t worth the risk. Jayne chewed on the idea of asking Everett to drop him off a block away from Gwynn’s place, but dismissed the thought after a moment’s consideration. When it came to Parker’s wellbeing, Jayne didnotmake decisions with his dick. His little boy deserved better from him than that.
“It’s fine. I’ve got some running around to do.” Jayne pocketed his phone. There were a few unread messages waiting for him from the Single Dads, but they could wait for later. “I wouldn’t ask you to carve out your entire afternoon to chauffeur me everywhere I need to go.”
“It’s up to you. The offer stands.”
“Wait, hold on.” Caleb fixed his gaze on Everett. “You’re leaving, too? I made bacon and everything.”
Everett looked at the pan. “You made charcoal.”
A smile twitched Jayne’s lips. He leaned a little more heavily against the wall, observing the two of them bicker.
“It’s not charcoal!” Caleb insisted. “It’s… charred bacon. If I served this in a gourmet restaurant, people would pay big money for it. It’s like blackened shrimp.”
“Are you a chef?”
“No.”
“Then I’m pretty sure the only way you could call that charred anything is if you called it charred coal.”
This time, Jayne couldn’t contain his smile. He glanced at Everett only to find that Everett had been looking at him. As soon as he was discovered, Everett ducked his head, and Jayne’s heart did a curious thing—it fluttered.
