“What’s up?” Jacob asked when they were out of earshot of the table.
“I need a favor.” Four words Killian O’Rourke never spoke lightly. There were people who believed money was power. Others, knowledge.
But he knew the real power lay in one simple thing: a favor.
Money ebbed and flowed. Could be won or lost in the blink of an eye. Knowledge was a bit more lasting, but often subjective. Many truths that people knew were so easily proven false—or at least, cast in enough shadow to have the holder of that knowledge doubting their very existence.
Favors, though. Favors were the eternal lifeblood of his business, and he was careful with how he traded them.
But desperate times called for desperate measures.
“Anything for you.”
Stepping outside the ballroom, Killian turned, pinning the younger man with a stern look meant to bring any submissive to their knees. And despite their very platonic relationship, Jacob was clearly not unaffected by the stare, judging by the way his eyes widened ever so slightly and his cheeks went pink. To his credit, though, he didn’t drop his gaze, and despite how frazzled he was feeling, pride welled in Killian’s chest.
“First of all, you never tell anyone you would do ‘anything’ for them. Those are dangerous words, especially when you’re dealing with a man like me. Do you understand me, boy?”
The color in Jacob’s face deepened and those talons of guilt dug in even deeper, slashing and clawing at Killian’s heart. “Y-yes, Sir. Sorry. I just meant…”
“I know what you meant.” He forced his voice to soften. Fucking hell, the boy was so damn sweet, just being near him threatened to give a person a mouth full of cavities. “But I’m serious, Jacob. When it comes to trading favors, you never agree to anything without knowing the terms.”
“Yes, Sir. I understand.”
“Good. Now, second of all, I want you to understand that if what I’m about to ask makes you uncomfortable in any way, you have the right to say no. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Stop calling me sir. We’re friends.”
Some of the mischief returned to Jacob’s eyes. “Oh, so you can get all bossy and Dommy on me but I can’t call you Sir?”
When had he gotten to be such a damn brat? Too much time with Ruby and Frankie, if Killian had to guess. “Fair play. But you don’t have to, is all I’m saying.”
“Got it.” His lips twitched. “Sir.”
“Clearly Cordelia needs to tighten the reins on you,” he mumbled, but the banter went a long way toward easing the grip of those guilt-talons on his chest. “As I said, I need a favor. Last night at the club, I had an… encounter.”
The corners of Jacob’s mouth turned down. “But you told Cordelia you just came by for a drink.”
“I did. And I did. But there was someone else upstairs with me.”
He saw the moment it clicked. The blush that hadn’t quite faded from his cheeks now drained completely as Jacob’s eyes went round. “Oh, Killian. You didn’t.”
“I am neither going to confirm nor deny, because the less you know, the better. But this is where the favor comes in. The princess room needs to be cleaned and I, ah, used a few of the toys while I was there.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled his wallet free and counted out five bills. “That should be enough to cover the cost of the toys, and an extra two for you. Consider it a tip.”
Staring down at the cash in his hand, Jacob swallowed. Audibly. “Killian… I don’t know…”
“You can say no.” Though it would put Killian in a considerable bind if he did. “I won’t be mad.”
“Braden will know the toys are missing. How am I supposed to get that past him?”
“You don’t. When he returns from his honeymoon, just tell him that one of his patrons, who wishes to remain anonymous, purchased said toys and paid in cash. I’ll text you a list of the actual toys as soon as I get home so you can deduct them from the inventory list.”
“Okay.” Jacob nodded slowly. “I can do that. It’s not really lying, since you clearly do wish to remain anonymous.”
“Exactly. There’s just one more thing.”
“What’s that?”
