Jayne shrugged. He brushed the twisted hair from his fingers and watched it fall to the floor. “I guess. I mean, something did trigger me, but it’s stupid.”
“Tell me.”
“I was supervising a human medical trial.” Jayne sat up slowly, hooking his arm over the edge of the couch to give himself better leverage. When he was upright, he tucked his knees to his chest and continued. “Which is what I do, by the way—I work for an independent medical board whose bioethicists are hired by pharmaceutical companies to supervise procedures. I make sure what’s going on behind closed doors is both medically sound and morally on the level.”
“Wait, what?” Caleb furrowed his brow in surprise, unsure if he’d understood Jayne correctly. “You get to tell Big Pharma if they’re fucking things up?”
Jayne grinned. “Yes.”
“Shit.” Caleb laughed. “Do you get to shut them down if they’re doing a piss-poor job?”
“You know it.”
“You’d get along well with my father,” Caleb said after a brief pause. A pang of sorrow struck him square in the chest, but he refused to dwell on it. “But that’s a thought for another day. I don’t want to sidetrack you. So you were working on a trial, when…”
“… when I started to suspect that one of the doctors had inappropriate personal connections with one of the human test subjects.” Jayne kept watch over his knees, looking thoughtful. “In medicine, having personal ties to your patients, or, in this case, test subjects, is a bad idea. There’s a certain kind of detachment you need to maintain—like professionalism, but on steroids. It’s not like other jobs. Treating someone you care for is… it’s tough. You start to doubt yourself. Doubt leads to uncertainty, and uncertainty leads to nervousness. Doctors are people, too, and when they get nervous, they start to make mistakes. In our field, that can’t happen. So when I started to suspect that he had ties to the subject, I started hovering a little more so I could keep a closer eye on them when they were together.”
“And?”
“And I think they were involved,” Jayne admitted. He frowned. “But at the same time I realized it, I realized how different their relationship was from mine. They were sweet with each other. Soft and understanding… but genuine. All of it felt so genuine. It wasn’t about power and control. It wasn’t… abuse.” Jayne struggled with the word. “When I contrasted what they had with what I shared with Bastian, it made me start to question things. Why didn’t I have that kind of relationship with the man who allegedly loved me? WasIbeing abused? The more I took an objective look at what was going on, the more I started to see my situation for what it truly was. I decided that day that I didn’t deserve to be treated the way Bastian had been treating me, and I never voluntarily called or texted him again.” Jayne smiled at his knees. “I let the doctor that had shown me the truth about my own situation off the hook. I shouldn’t have, but I did. I haven’t worked with him again since the first phase of the trial ended, but I like to think that he’s happy with the man he loves because I refused to stand in their way.”
“So that’s it?” Caleb asked cautiously. From what Jayne had alluded to earlier in their conversation, and from his own encounter with Bastian at Circuit Rush, he didn’t think it was as clear-cut as that.
“No.” Jayne stretched, then eased himself off the couch. “But I think if I don’t have something to drink, I’m going to die. If you point me to where everything is, I can fix us some drinks.”
“I’ve got it.” Caleb followed Jayne off the couch. “Fuck, after hearing that, you’re not the only one who needs to get his buzz on.”
“It gets worse.”
Caleb arched a brow, made his way to the liquor cabinet, and selected the full bottle of Collingwood whiskey from inside. He handed it to Jayne. “Glasses are overrated. You down to go full-on savage with me?”
Jayne looked at the bottle, looked at Caleb, and grinned. “Is there any other way to do it?”
25
Caleb
Caleb settled back on the couch after placing the bottle of Collingwood, two tall tumblers of ice water, and a bowl of pretzels on the coffee table. Jayne’s plate of partially consumed pasta bake had been brought into the kitchen, wrapped, and placed in the fridge for later.
What a night.
What a fucking night.
With Jayne gone to use the bathroom and check in on Parker, Caleb let out a loud sigh and did his best to unleash all the tension inside his chest. Bastian was fucking evil. After their alleyway encounter, Caleb’s opinion of him hadn’t been sky-high, but hearing Jayne’s side of the story made Caleb wish that time travel were a thing if only so that he could go back and beat the fucking shit out of him. No living creature deserved to be manipulated like that—made to beg for love like they weren’t worthy of it. And if what Jayne had shared wasn’t even the worst of what Bastian had done?
Caleb bared his teeth and distracted himself from his thoughts by twisting the cap of the Collingwood, breaking the seal.
If he ever crossed paths with Bastian again, Bastian wouldn’t have a chance to walk away.
On edge but eager to push the negativity from his mind, Caleb set the bottle back on the coffee table, grabbed a handful of pretzels, and kicked back on the couch. After tonight, and perhaps during a second reprise of the story to bring Everett up to speed, the name Bastian wouldn’t matter anymore. As long as Jayne was staying with them, he’d be a non-issue.
Bare footsteps on the wooden floor redirected Caleb’s attention. Jayne entered the room. Caleb, who’d been moments away from popping a pretzel in his mouth, paused.
There was something different about him, but he couldn’t put his finger on what.
“Okay, I’m back.” Jayne yawned and stretched his arms over his head, causing his dress shirt to ride up. Caleb devoured the sight of the pale skin along his hips. Fuck, was he gorgeous. “Shep was asleep when I went in to check on Parker, so I think we’re probably on our own for the rest of the night.”
“Okay.”
