“Not going to settle the bill?”
It seemed arrogant to say he didn’t think there would be one. “I’ll settle it with Dean.”
“Yeah, ‘course ya will.” Mark wiped his hands on an oily rag. “You gonna blow him for it?”
Cold shock lanced through him first, and then anger replaced it. He turned his face towards Mark. “You know, I just might do that.”
Those hard little eyes seemed to glitter, unimpressed. Instantly, Jay regretted standing up to him. Mark clearly didn’t care. He couldn’t even be sure it registered.
“How about you blow me for it instead?”
Jay took a step back and Mark matched the pace. “Just give me my keys,” he said. Mark ignored the request and took another step. Jay tried not to back up, but as Mark took a third step towards him, he couldn’t help it. He moved to the side. “Just give me my keys and I’ll be going.” He didn’t care about the keys or the car. He tried to gauge the distance to the door and if he could make it around the other two vehicles. Unfortunately, they created a zigzag obstacle course and Mark would be on him before he could reach it. He glanced at Mark’s face and knew he wasn’t imagining things. “What the fuck’s wrong with you?”
“Plenty.”
Mark threw the rag aside, but he hadn’t managed to clean much off his hands with it. The black oily marks on his hands seemed to be just another part of his skin, of his personality. His shaggy black hair and black beady eyes made him appear particularly rat-like. Jay didn’t want him anywhere near him, but as he dodged around a car, Mark almost ran to cut off his retreat. Jay backed up, panicked.
“Bad enough we have to put up with the sight of you moaning and moping around after Dean, low and behold he’s been hanging round at your place. Most of the guys ain’t noticed. They’re none too bright. Well, the way I sees it, what you can do for Dean, you can do for me. For any of us. You should provide a free service, seeing as we’re expected to give you free services.”
Jay frowned, just as he slammed into the workbench. A sharp pain flashed through his hip. The hard ridge of the worktop pressed against his lower back. He ignored the pain and leaned on the bench with his hands close to his sides. His eyes flickered to the left trying to see whether anything he could use for a weapon lay within reach. “Dean paid for the service out of his pocket, as a favour.”
“Like hell. We did that for nothing. Even if that were true, why would he do that?”
“As a favour to April.”
“Yeah, sure. Then you get the car. If I’m expected to be a fucking grease monkey for a cum-slut, then I expect you to suck my dick. Hear that, slut?” Mark came right up and pressed next to him in a long line against his body. It took all of Jay’s strength not to whimper. He swallowed as acid seared the back of his throat. The threat was bad enough, but the thought of doing anything sexual with this dickhead made him physically nauseous, and that wouldn’t have changed, even if he wasn’t currently stuck between a rock and a hard place. The bench pushed painfully insistent into his back. Mark’s erection pressed into his navel. For the first time in his life, Jay cursed that he wasn’t just a little bit taller. Still, the thought of feeling that hardness against him anywhere was enough to make him retch. He controlled it, though with no idea how. Maybe only the thought that it would irritate Mark further kept him from gagging.
His mind drifted back to a few weeks ago when Mark started teasing him and Dean about that stupid kiss. Crap. Was the guy a closet case or something? Worse still, it looked as if he intended to take out his irritation on yours truly.
“Now, I’m going to take out my prick and you are going to drop to your knees, bitch.”
Jay shook his head. He glanced around to the other side. Who would have thought he would be in a goddamned garage without even a screwdriver in sight. Why did Dean have to keep things so neat and tidy?
He wished he hadn’t thought of a screwdriver when he saw that was exactly what Mark held in his hand. The other man leaned in closer still, bringing with him a wash of stale smells. Mark needed to clean his teeth, let alone the fact that he was obviously sweating a treat, probably in part due to fear and part to excitement. On top of this, that oily, greasy smell was cloying.
“We all know faggots got no choice. Wave a dick in your face and you’re gagging for it.”
He was gagging all right, but not for that. He would rather die first. The thought proved painful, but he accepted that as the truth. In a fight, he’d probably lose, but if it came to that, he would go down struggling. Likely, he was about to be beaten to a bloody pulp. He looked Mark in the eye. “I wouldn’t suck your dick if it was the last one in the universe.”
The pain took him sudden and sharp. It made him gasp, the cry strangled in his throat by shock. He looked down automatically. Mark had rammed the screwdriver into the top of his hand. It hadn’t even penetrated far, but the shock of it made his stomach roil. The hard pressure turned cold, numb, and then it began to burn. His blood looked very red. Mark leaned down on the screwdriver and this time Jay cried out loudly. Christ, the guy was going to skewer his hand to the table!
“You’ll do as I ...”
The sentence cut off and the body in front of him suddenly lifted away. The first thing he saw was April’s frightened face as she rushed in front of him. “Oh, god, Jay, are you all right?” She took hold of his injured hand where he now cradled it. The screwdriver had fallen away and really, the wound wasn’t that deep. It hurt enough, though. April turned her back to him and ran forward.
“Dean, let him go. For gods sake let him go!”
The panic in her voice rang out clear. Jay looked up and around her to take in the sight of Dean with his hands around Mark’s throat. His friend’s eyes were blank, showing no emotion, just this frightening intense stare. His lips pulled back to show his teeth in what looked like a snarl. Mark dangled from Dean’s large hands, barely touching the floor with the tips of his toes. Even as he took in the sight, Dean started to shake him. Not that Jay wasn’t enjoying the spectacle, but he couldn’t let Dean get into trouble. He ran forward and added his strength to his sister’s who already pulled on Dean’s arms and hands, trying to pry him off.
“Dean, stop it. You’ll shake him to death.” Their desperate efforts finally seemed to get through to him. Dean glanced at them, looked back at Mark, then practically threw him away with a small sound of disgust. Mark tumbled, landing on his backside. A hand clutched his throat and he made choking, gasping noises.
“You shouldn’t have done that.” April looked at Dean with a worried expression. He turned to face her with that unforgiving stare, so that she flinched backwards. Jay blinked. He had never seen April flinch from anything, but seeing the look in Dean’s eyes, even he almost jerked away, and Dean was only taking hold of his hand to examine it.
“He never did the service,” Dean said, while he looked at the wound and pressed on either side of it. A small amount of blood oozed, but the wound was already clotting. “Move your fingers.” Jay did. It hurt, but he could move them easily.
“What?” April sounded stunned.
“John gave the job to Mark. He never did the service. The timing belt needed replacing. Any mechanic could see it, but he didn’t do it. He hardly did anything. I never knew that until a short while ago. I figured out what happened, but not who did it. I went to see John to ask him if he’d done the service or if he handed the job on to someone. He gave the job to Mark, who didn’t do it.
“You’ll be all right,” he said directly to Jay. “It doesn’t even need stitches.”
Jay hated to think how much worse it would feel if stitches were required. April stood there, seemingly struggling with what Dean said. Amazingly, Jay didn’t feel any surprise at all. The only thing he felt sorry for was that Dean would blame himself for not checking the car personally.
“I’m going to press charges.” Mark recovered enough to get up off the floor. He stood there bent over, taking rasping breaths, a ha
nd still pressed to his throat. There were more surprises. Jay expected Dean to turn angrily. Amazingly, April turned with an incredulous expression on her face. She took a step towards Mark, and Jay could have sworn Dean tensed, as though he would reach out to stop her. If that were his intention, he obviously thought better of it.
“I don’t think an attempted rape on a man will do you much good, reputation wise.”
Mark laughed. “Like anyone will believe it. It’s one word against another and you’re his sister, and I know he’s Dean’s tart. That won’t look too good either.”
Strangely, Jay took the word calmly. Earlier, he’d experienced misgivings as to whether he was such a little tart that he would just give himself over to someone completely. Well, he might be, but it wouldn’t be to anyone. Only a very specific someone and that didn’t hurt him at all. The thought warmed him throughout.
“Jay has an injury.” April protested.
“And I’m the one with the bruises around his throat.”
“You’ll have more than that in a minute.” April moved to take another step and this time Dean reached out and grabbed her shoulder. She seemed to have forgotten so recently berating him for giving Mark those bruises and apparently wanted to add a few of her own.
“They need another witness, they got one. But I don’t think it’ll come to that. Will it, Mark?” John emerged from the back of the garage. He carried a wrench in one hand that he stroked almost sensually with the other. His voice and the look in his eyes were calm, complacent, and very frightening for all that. Mark swallowed. He glanced first one way and then the other. “I think you should leave now,” John told him. “I think you should just walk out of here ... while you can still walk. Dean will mail you what you’re owed.”
“But don’t expect a reference,” Dean added, sounding amused by the development. “Oh, and leave the key, before you go.”
The black-haired man needed no second bidding. He shot them all a filthy look, but they could let that go, and then hurried out of there.
“You,” April rounded on Dean, “should be more careful which employees you give keys to.” She made it sound as though this were all Dean’s fault. He raised his hands in the air in an attitude of surrender.
“Hey, he’s worked here long enough. You can blame my father, not me.”
April didn’t seem to take any notice. She looked and sounded bewildered, lost in her own thoughts. “What I don’t understand is how he knew to set this up. How did he know the car was even in the garage?”
John sniggered. “The guy’s a weasel. He’s probably been poking around in here when it isn’t his business.”
Dean visibly winced. No doubt, he was thinking all kinds of unsavoury things. Jay immediately wondered if anything was missing or if Mark had done anything on the plush back seats. It wasn’t worth thinking about. He watched Dean turn back to John, frowning slightly. “What are you doing here, anyway?”
John smirked. “The way you ran out, are you kidding? Bat out of hell took on a whole new meaning.” He nodded to Jay. “You okay?”
“Yes. Thank you.” It all felt a bit surreal, but sometimes life was like that.
“Let’s get that cleaned up,” John nodded towards Jay’s bleeding hand, and with a single glance towards Dean, Jay followed the other man.
* * * * *
“I wish I’d never told you,” April said. Dean didn’t look at her, just stared at the screwdriver lying on the floor. The tip of it harboured a spot of Jay’s blood. “Now, do you see what can happen when you’re living a lie? Even without this, Jay deserves a proper life with someone. How can you hurt him like this?”
“I didn’t mean to.” He looked at her then and by her expression judged that she wanted to strangle him.
“It’s all a game to you. Life. Everyone in it. You just march all over them and the only important one is Dean Chapman and what he wants out of it. Why did you have to walk all over my brother? If you had to play around with a man, why did it have to be him?”
“Don’t you see,” he told her softly. “It couldn’t have been any one else.”
She stared at him, frowning. “You can’t care for him.”
Not so long ago, she had suggested that maybe Dean loved Jay, but his survival instinct warned him that this was not the time to remind her of it. Besides, her statement sounded similar to a plea. “How can you say that? Of course, I do.”
“No. I don’t believe it. He’s just a toy that you’re going to cast aside when you’re done playing.” He shook his head but she wouldn’t let him speak. “No? Then what are you going to do, Dean?” There was laughter in her voice. “Set up home with him?”
He thought of going home and the image that came to mind wasn’t his house, but Jay’s flat with all its poky corners and overcrowded rooms and cluttered shelves. The vision warmed him. April was still telling him how thoughtless he was, but he hardly heard a word of it. He stood there and took it, nodding to show he heard, but in truth only catching the odd word. He stood silent and thought of his life without Jay in it, and it felt bleak and cold, uninviting. The trouble was, he couldn’t just be with Jay when it suited him. It wasn’t fair and although most of what Mark said was probably bluster, in truth, if he started spending nights over there, people were going to notice, and sooner rather than later. That left him with two choices.
* * * * *
“I want a few minutes. I want a few minutes!” He said it the second time more forcefully. Jay looked from Dean’s face to April where she stood in the door of the office glaring at him. She glanced towards Jay where he sat in a chair by the desk, and then back to Dean’s face. She nodded, retreated a step.
“I’ll be waiting,” she said. She looked across to him as Dean started to close the door. “I’ll take you home.”
Dean closed the door in her face before Jay could say anything. Her shadow remained on the other side of the frosted glass for a moment, and then moved away. As she did, Dean turned the key in the lock, the movement undeniably careful. As April failed to return to bang on the door, she couldn’t have noticed. Dean turned, ran a hand through his hair and came towards him. “You okay?”
Jay nodded. “John said he would talk to you after the weekend. Not that I think you have much to say to each other, but he thought we should be careful until we’re sure Mark’s gone. He said he thought he would run a mile though. He said that sort usually do.”
“He’s right. He didn’t expect you to stand up to him.” A hint of pride thawed Dean’s voice and Jay looked at his eyes. He looked different somehow; calm, decided. He sat on the edge of the desk facing him.
“How do you feel about me, Jay?”
He looked away, not wishing to discuss this. Dean reached out and lifted his head by the chin using only one finger. Jay couldn’t resist it, not physically or emotionally. He looked up into those eyes. “No lies, no bullshit. Be honest.”
“I think you’re too arrogant for your own good at times. I think most of the time you have good reason to be. You’re good-looking, charming, funny, sexy, and you know it. I think someone should have put you over their knee when you were growing up.”
Clearly, that was not the answer Dean expected, so Jay told him what he wanted to hear. “I love you. You know that. If you need me to say it, fine. I love you. I probably always will, no matter how much you walk over me.”
Dean looked thoughtful. “You know the only way someone could put me over their knee now is if I let them.” His grin looked mischievous. Jay just gaped. He gasped a little when Dean reached out and pulled him up, lifting him a bit so that he sat balanced on his knee. The position was precarious. If Dean let go, he would slip to the floor before he could save himself from falling. He wrapped one arm around Dean’s neck and pressed the other hand to his chest instinctively. Despite the bandage, he could feel Dean’s heart beating. Dean’s left arm held him securely, while the right touched his face, brushed back his hair, moved to clasp the back of his neck. He
sat quietly through the examination for that was how it felt ‑‑ as though Dean examined him. It reminded him of when he walked home in the snow.
“I really am okay,” he said. “It’s just my hand.”
“It’s not just your hand,” Dean whispered so softly, if they weren’t so close he would never have heard him. “Don’t tell me Mark didn’t hurt you in some other way.”
“I was scared, if that’s what you mean.”
“You know what I mean.”
Jay nodded. No one had the right to do that to you, to make you feel like that. He felt violated; right up until the point Dean sat him on his knee. Now, the emotion was a memory only.
“I don’t mean to walk over you as you put it. It doesn’t feel that way to me. At least not when I’m doing it. Sometimes, I’ve hated myself afterwards, because I know ...” Dean paused, looking him thoroughly in the eye. “I do know that it’s not what it should be, because we’re not a couple. We’re not lovers. Not officially. I’ve wanted to believe this was just a bit of fun for me. I’ve been afraid to think it was anything else. I only began to realise I was kidding myself when I thought you were lost in the snow and then now, when Mark attacked you. I didn’t want to see you hurt. I didn’t want to lose you.”
Pain suffused his throat. Why tell him all this? Why now? “What are you doing?” he whispered, almost too afraid to hear the answer.
“Well, I’m about to call my father and tell him what happened with Mark, and then I’ll take you home, if you’ll let me.”
Jay moved his head back a little. “April,” he said, that one word meaning everything. She wouldn’t just let Dean walk out of here with him, not without screaming about it. Dean surely knew that but Jay reminded him of it anyway. Dean said nothing. His gaze just swept back and forth over Jay’s face.
“If I said I wanted this, would you have me?”
“Have?” Jay frowned in question.
Dean stroked his face. “You know what I’m saying.”
What could he do but be honest. “If I could have a life with you, a real life, I’d be happy. But that’s not what you want. I can’t ask that of you. So if you care at all ...” His voice broke and to his horror, tears flooded his eyes, “I think it’s best April be the one to take me home.”
Snow Angel Page 18
