“I said NOW, Jason!”
“Yes . ..sir!” he said with a smirk.
“Don’t push it, Jason. Make yourself look decent. Then we’ll talk.”
That stern voice was usually a big turn on for Jason, but not today. He didn’t want an argument, though, so he went into the bathroom and turned on the water. His head banged whilst he undressed, so he searched the medicine drawer and found some paracetamol. He downed them with water from the bathroom sink, and then walked into the huge shower. It could easily host six guys – not that he wanted other men in here with him. Grant had made good use of the space with Jason over the years. He smiled, thinking back to their firsttwo years together when Jason had received constant attention from his husband. Now it was like he was a badly behaved child, and he dreaded these “talks” from Grant, because he would always feel like shit after thinking he’d let his husband down. Jason didn’t like letting people down. It made him feel bad knowing he’d disappointed the people he loved.
The water was perfect in temperature and pressure as he stepped under the rainfall showerhead. Jason took his time, not wanting to go back out there, and also knowing he’d feel like crap again within twenty minutes of drying off. It was the hangover rule.
They’d stayed drinking well into the evening yesterday, and he had a vague recollection of Jane putting him in a cab. He would text her later to check she was okay. Hopefully, he’d done nothing stupid that would put her in a difficult position as his boss.
He got dressed slowly and walked out of their bedroom. He’d expected to go downstairs to see Grant, but he was waiting outside the box room.
“No.”
“Get in there, Jason. Now.”
“No, please. I’ll be good. Don’t put me in there.”
Grant didn’t need to touch him, as he knew Jason would comply. Jason felt all the hairs on his body stand on end. He hated being locked in that room. Grant had never laid a hand on him – that’s not something he would do – but he would lock Jason in the box room if he played up. He said it was to help Jason calm his racing thoughts, but it had the opposite effect.
Not wanting to get into an argument when he was feeling like shit, he bowed his head and walked into the room.
“What do you know about my mum’s parole?”
“We’ll talk after you’ve done your time out.”
“She said you made a deal. Why are you making deals with her?”
“I told you not to go to that funeral, Jason. Why don’t you listen to me when I know what’s best for you?”
“What about my stepdad? Was that you as well?”
“Don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to, Jason.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“Two hours,” said Grant, locking the door behind him.
Jason sat down on the single bed and did his breathing exercises to calm his racing thoughts. He couldn’t get it out of his head that Grant was responsible for his stepdad’s death, but how could he be? It was a crazy thought. He knew Grant got involved in things that weren’t legal, but he wasn’t a murderer. How could a man who could be so kind and caring do something like that?
He hated being in this room. It was all decorated neutrally, but there was nothing really in here. No TV. Jason didn’t have his phone with him either, and he was already bored. He didn’t wear a watch, so did not know the time. He couldn’t have been in here for more than five minutes already, and he had a two-hour stint to do.
Jason must have fallen asleep, because the next thing he knew Grant was shaking him awake.
“I made you some breakfast. Come downstairs and we can talk.”
Grant’s voice seemed off. Usually when he’d had a time out, his tone was all loving, but he seemed almost businesslike. He didn’t even wait for Jason to wake up properly before he headed downstairs. Jason nipped to the bathroom to have a piss, splash his face with water, and gargle some mouthwash. He still had that hungover dry-mouth thing going on.
Walking into the kitchen, there was a bacon and egg roll waiting for him with a brew. He was hungrier than he thought. He looked around, and there was nothing for Grant.
“Are you not having anything?” asked Jason.
“I’ve already eaten. You have yours, then we’ll talk,” he replied, before walking out.
What the fuck was going on? Grant was acting strange. Jason couldn’t stop himself catastrophising in his head about what had happened. Each scenario was more dramatic than the last, and his breakfast barely tasted of anything as a lead weight sat in Jason’s stomach. He had a horrible feeling something bad was going to happen, but he finished the food and put his dish away before waking into the lounge. Grant wasn’t there, so Jason assumed he’d be in his office, which was upstairs. He headed up, and there was the man himself at his desk. He had a folder with Jason’s name on it. This couldn’t be good.
“Sit down, Jason.”
