by A M Snead
The last time, Scotty had done something wrong, caused his lover to turn on him and abandon him. He still didn’t know what he’d done wrong. This time, he wouldn’t mess up. He would do everything right. The man would stay with him…and keep loving him.
32 “The Confrontation”
On his way to the rec room, Lucas spotted Garrett entering through the rear door near the back staircase—reserved for the staff when the place had been functioning as an inn—and stopped at the head of the narrow hall leading back to the stairs.
“Hey,” Lucas called. Garrett paused at the stairs and just looked at him. The man appeared on edge, which Lucas supposed was to be expected. He just wished someone—either Jack or Garrett—would tell him what the fuck was going on between them. “Come on; we’re in the rec room. We’re gonna play some eight-ball.”
Garrett shook his head and started up the stairs.
“Stubborn ass,” Lucas grumbled and walked down the hall. Garrett was already out of sight, disappearing up the enclosed narrow staircase. “Come on, man. Get back down here. Play balls with us.” He chuckled, but stopped abruptly when the back door opened, and Scotty stepped in. He halted stiffly, spotting Lucas. “Hey, buddy,” Lucas said slowly, taking in the kid’s well-concealed arms. “What’s doin’?”
Scotty shrugged and averted his eyes as he closed the door. “Just went for a walk,” he mumbled.
“Out through the trees?”
The boy nodded and fidgeted. The cuffs of his shirt tucked into his fists.
“You take a lot of walks out there,” Lucas observed. “You like the woods?”
Shrugging again, Scotty whispered, “It’s…peaceful. And quiet. And no one can hear…” He cut himself off, his face pinching with anxiety.
“Hear what?” Lucas frowned.
“Nothing.” Scotty shook his head and moved quickly past Lucas. He cast a fleeting glance up the stairs but took the hall instead.
Lucas turned on a slow heel and watched Scotty walk away, then twisted back around and looked up the stairs, his frown hardening; Scotty and Garrett hadn’t been out there…together…had they? For whatever reason, Garrett was pissed at Jack, but surely he wouldn’t take advantage of Scotty’s lingering feelings for him and use the kid as some release for his anger and frustration. Garrett was better than that…wasn’t he?
Jack came to our room last night…he was upset and crying.
What had Garrett done to put him in that state of mind? To actually break down and cry? Lucas didn’t always understand Garrett. After all that insanity with Scotty last year, Garrett had seemed to swear off relationships and channeled everything into his “work.” He’d gained most of his popularity over the course of the last year because of his intensity on screen—which Lucas suspected stemmed from his internal struggle to deal with all that had happened. But the moment Jack had shown up…something in Garrett had changed. To some degree, he had been resisting his emotions toward Jack, though he hadn’t made any attempt to hide his sexual desire for the guy. Lucas had to admit that he had had fun poking at Garrett and flirting with Jack.
So, what had happened last night? Had he surrendered to his emotions then backed away when it was over? Jack was fighting his feelings as well, that much was evident. He had actually seemed a little scared to give in. What if he had taken the risk, made the jump…only to have Garrett step back and let him hit the ground? Such a thing would have left Jack broken. And crying.
Heat simmered Lucas’ blood; Garrett, man, you better not have fucked Jack over.
He climbed the stairs after Garrett and caught up to him as he approached his bedroom door. “Hey, Garrett. Hold up.”
Garrett glanced at him with dull eyes. “What do you want?”
“What do I want?” Lucas stared at him, exasperated. “I want you to tell me what the fuck is going on with you and Jack. That’s what I want.”
“Nothing,” Garrett bit sharply.
“Bullshit.”
“What the fuck business is it of yours anyway?”
Lucas exhaled on a groan. “It’s my business because we’re friends, man. And Jack is my friend. And you’re both pissed off, and hurting, and trying to convince everyone that you’re fine. Well…you’re not fucking fine. Not you, and not Jack.”
“Well I don’t really give a fuck what Jack is or isn’t, all right?” Garrett glared at him, his lips a tight line stretched across his mouth, eyes hard. “He isn’t my concern.”
Lucas looked back at him, his temper bubbling just under the surface. “Look, Garrett. You did something last night that fucked Jack up. What happened after you guys left the club?”
“I didn’t fuck Jack up.” A snide, unpleasant tone tainted his voice. “I just fucked him.” He reached for the knob of the bedroom door when Lucas grabbed his arm. Garrett knocked his hand away and stabbed a finger at him. “Don’t fucking touch me.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Lucas snapped. “Why’re you being such a dick to Jack?”
“Dick is what he wanted, and that’s what he got.” Garrett turned away again, intent on entering his room.
Lucas snagged his arm a second time. “What the fuck is your problem, man?” His back hit the wall suddenly as Garrett shoved him hard. “What the hell?”
“I said don’t fucking touch me!”
“Enough!” Gideon seemed to appear out of thin air, the authority in his voice halting both young men. “What in the hell is going on here?”
Garrett stepped back, and Lucas pulled away from the wall, face tight. “Ask him. He’s being a fucking prick.”
“Hey—fuck you!” Garrett shot back.
Gideon clamped his hips with tense hands and shook his head, breath rushing out, barely controlled. “Knock it off,” he spoke low, but his tone insisted they damn well listen. He looked at Lucas. “Where is Jack?”
“I don’t know,” Lucas muttered. “The twins said they saw him leave a little while ago in his car.”
“As soon as he gets back,” Gideon said. “Let him know I want to see him.” He sniffed and gripped his hips tighter. “Now go back downstairs. I want to talk to Garrett alone.”
Lucas started to say more but Gideon raised a stiff eyebrow, silencing him. “Yeah. Okay,” he mumbled, shooting Garrett a hard look. But the guy had turned away and was staring at his bedroom door with eyes of stone.
♥
“How long have you known Gideon?” Jack respectfully declined a second beer when the bartender approached. He looked at Daniel. He was growing fonder of the man with each passing moment. Daniel reminded Jack of Gideon in many ways. It wasn’t difficult at all to imagine them as a couple, though Jack didn’t think they were. But he still had his suspicions that, at the very least, their relationship had eased past “just friends.”
“About five years,” Daniel said. “He started coming in just after I opened the club, then his boys followed. And, well…” Daniel smiled. “I guess he decided he liked the place.”
Jack nodded, and lightly teased, “Are you sure it wasn’t the owner he decided he liked?”
Laughing softly, Daniel shrugged. “Maybe that, too. But for the most part, we’re just friends.”
“For the most part?” Jack smiled and cocked an eyebrow. There was a veiled wistfulness in Daniel’s eyes when he spoke of Gideon. Jack had to wonder—just who was holding back?
Daniel chuckled. “I make the occasional move, but…” he sighed and shrugged. “He blocks them every time.”
“Every time?” Jack ventured. “I mean, last night, you two seemed pretty chummy.”
“Perhaps just a little,” Daniel admitted then smiled wryly. “But not nearly as chummy as you and Garrett. Damn, you two can dance—” He abruptly went silent when Jack glanced away, a sudden strain to his face. “I’m sorry, did I…say something wrong?”
“No,” he rasped, his throat clenching without warning. “I…” His cell chimed, alerting him to a new text message. Jack dug out his phone and re
ad the text.
“Gideon wants to talk to you ASAP.”
It was from Lucas.
“I, uh…” He closed the phone and stuffed it back in his pocket and slid off the stool. “I have to go.”
“Everything all right?”
“Yeah.” Jack nodded. The heaviness that had begun to lift while talking to Daniel, settled into his chest once again. “It was nice talking with you.”
“Come back anytime.” Daniel stood up and smiled, though concern squeezed his brow as he gazed at Jack. “I’m usually here.” He motioned toward the ceiling. “My apartment is above the club, so even when I’m home I’m still here. So anytime you feel like stopping by, you’re more than welcome to do so.”
Jack sensed the man’s offer was more than a simple, obligatory invitation. Could he see that Jack might need someone to talk to openly and freely from time to time? Daniel certainly made him feel at ease.
“Thank you,” Jack offered sincerely. He would be back; he was certain of that. If only for the peace of mind he felt in Daniel’s company.
33 “The Problem”
“Have a seat.” Gideon nodded at the chair facing his desk when Garrett lingered back. The young man hesitated before finally sitting down and resting his elbows on his knees. He didn’t look at Gideon but rather stared at the floor, brow furrowed.
The moment Gideon had noticed Garrett’s personal attraction to Jack, the anxiety had started roiling in his gut. This was Garrett’s first “real” interest since Scotty. For a fleeting moment, Gideon had hoped it would be a good thing, for both Garrett and Jack. Now, it was evident things had taken the “bad” turn instead.
“Garrett.” Gideon leaned against the front of his desk. “You know that I don’t make a habit of interfering with the personal relationships of you boys. You’re all adults. But when an issue arises that begins to disrupt the harmony of the house…”
Garrett shook his head and looked up. “There isn’t an issue.”
“I see.” Gideon nodded and rested his hands on the edge of his desk. “So, there’s nothing going on between you and Jack?”
“No.”
“You and Jack didn’t have a falling out last night?”
“No.”
“So, you and Lucas were just fighting for the fun of it?”
Garrett exhaled hard. “Lucas has a load of bullshit preconceived ideas in his head,” Garrett said tightly. “But Jack and I are fine. Lucas needs to mind his own fucking business.”
The young man shifted his stare back to the floor, air rushing through his nostrils. Jack and I are fine. If the scene in the kitchen that morning was admissible evidence, then no—they were not “fine.”
“Garrett.” Gideon’s voice lowered, softened. “I realize that maybe your attraction to Jack caught you off guard. And when we get struck like that, sometimes we rush into things. I understand if you jumped into something with Jack, then got scared and pulled back. You—”
“So, it’s automatically my fault.” Garrett shot him a hard glare. “Everyone just assumes that I fucked Jack over.” He stood up quickly. “It’s nice to know I have the support of my family.” His voice strained with hurt and bitterness. “Of…you.” He shrugged, a film of tears glazing his eyes. “If this is what everyone really thinks of me, maybe I should just pack my shit and get the fuck out of here.” He headed for the door.
“Stop,” Gideon said with just enough authority to prevent Garrett’s departure. “Just because we’re gay men, that doesn’t mean we need to be dramatic. Now come back over here and sit down. I’m not through talking yet.”
Garrett returned to his seat reluctantly.
“I might be pushing middle-age,” Gideon said. “But my five senses are still functioning well enough. Especially my eyes and ears. Something is going on with you and Jack, and it’s starting to affect the house. So.” Gideon straightened. “When Jack returns, the three of us are going to have a little talk together. And if you two have a problem, it’s going to be settled then and there. All right?”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” Garrett said quietly, tightly; tension rolled off Garrett in waves and he obviously didn’t want to chat with Jack. “Last night, it…it was just a one-time thing—for both of us. And it was just sex. I don’t know, maybe we just needed to get it out of our system or something. You know…off camera. But it’s done. Over.” He looked at Gideon. “We’re good.”
Gideon nodded slowly and rubbed his mouth. “If that’s the case,” he said. “Then you should have no qualms about our little meeting.”
Anxiety pinched Garrett’s face and he opened his mouth to protest but was silenced by Gideon’s unwavering stare. He looked away. “No,” he mumbled. “No qualms.”
Gideon watched him lean forward slowly and rest his elbows on his knees, his eyes glued blankly to the floor.
You’re lying, Mr. North. The last thing you want is to be in the same room with Jack.
♥
Jack closed the front door behind him and started across the expansive hall that was once the lobby of the inn, heading for the wide staircase that led to the second floor. Scotty appeared in a doorway to the left of the stairs, partially concealed in dim shadows. But Jack could feel him watching him. Jack averted his eyes and continued toward the stairs.
“You shouldn’t be mad at me,” Scotty spoke low, but his voice carried easily in the open space. “I warned you about him.”
His steps faltering, Jack glanced at the young man. Scotty was close to Jack’s own age but had a vulnerability that made him seem years younger. “I’m not mad at you, Scotty,” Jack murmured. “I guess I should have listened.”
Scotty stared at him, clearly taken aback by Jack’s words. Had he expected Jack to freak out on him? Even blame him for Garrett’s own indiscretions? Jack silently insisted that none of it even really mattered, that it didn’t hurt to stand there and look at the guy whom Garrett had left Jack’s bed for. But whether it hurt or not…Scotty wasn’t the one at fault. It would be easy to blame him; the kid was a convenient target. But even when Scotty freaked out on Jack…the pain in the guy had been evident, radiating out of him. And Jack couldn’t shake what Garrett had told him about Scotty losing Marcus to Mickey, and then losing Garrett as well. Maybe it was more beneficial for Scotty, than for Jack, that Garrett harbor feelings for him. Jack hadn’t wanted to like Garrett that way to begin with. It was better like this. Scotty wanted that kind of attention from Garrett. Jack didn’t.
The boy didn’t say anything more and withdrew through the doorway, disappearing from view. The word around the house was that Scotty was messed up, and Jack could see that with his own eyes, but just what exactly that meant—he didn’t have a clue. And he didn’t think he was qualified to even touch that issue.
“Jack.” This voice that stopped him was deeper, older. “Hold up a minute.”
Jack recognized the speaker and his stomach twisted as he slowly turned around. Pratt walked toward him casually, then cast a quick glance at the doorway Scotty had occupied just moments ago.
“He’s a sad case, that one,” Pratt murmured with a show of concern. But it felt practiced.
“Yeah,” Jack mumbled and looked around. He couldn’t feel at ease when alone with the cameraman. “I guess. I don’t really know him.”
“It’s a shame he took a break from performing, though,” Pratt said quietly, and smiled. “He was beautiful on camera.”
Jack just stared at him, not wanting to get drawn into a conversation that he suspected the man would turn around on him. Jack glanced up the stairs again. “Gideon wants to see me. I should…” He motioned up the stairs and took a step in that direction.
“Well, hang on a minute,” Pratt halted him. “I just wanted to apologize.”
Jack frowned, distrusting the man. “For what?”
Pratt ducked his head and chuckled softly then looked up. “For…coming on to you the way I did. That was…well, for one, it was very unprofessional. A
nd I’ve obviously made you uncomfortable. You’re a beautiful young man and I won’t try to deny that I’m attracted to you.” His eyes did a quick sweep of Jack’s body and flashed with that hunger that put Jack on edge. “Immensely.” When he met Jack’s stare again, the fire in the man was back under control and veiled. “But I had no right to make advances. And I am sorry.”
Swallowing thickly, Jack was pretty sure the man was full of shit. But he didn’t wish to debate his sincerity. “It’s all right,” Jack mumbled. “No harm done.”
“At least let me make it up to you.” Pratt smiled, and for anyone who hadn’t been eye-fucked by the guy, his offer would have surely appeared genuine and sincere. “Let me buy you a drink at the club. A peace offering.”
“That’s really not necessary.” Jack wasn’t buying the peace offering bullshit. No doubt the man was hoping to get him drunk with the intention of getting his cock in him.
“Nothing is necessary,” Pratt said. “I want to.”
Jack shook his head slowly and moved to the stairs, ascending the first step. “Thanks, but…you don’t have to. We’re…good.”
“Ah come on.” Pratt advanced slowly, even casually, but Jack still felt threatened by the movement. It was very likely his imagination—it wasn’t as if the guy was going to jump him right there on the stairs. Pratt held out his hands to the side and flashed a grin. “Humor me. It’ll make me feel better if I can offer some kind of compensation, even if it’s just a drink.”
“It really isn’t—”
“Ah, Jack!” Derek was suddenly jogging down the stairs from the second floor. “Hey.”
Pratt backed off instantly, uttering a quick, “We can talk about this later,” and quickly retreated from the foyer. Jack glanced after him then looked at Derek. Oh fuck, baby, I could blow you for showing up just now.
Jack cleared his throat as the imagery of his thought burned through his mind. “Derek.” A mock scowl twisted his face.
