Page 22 of Devil’s Kiss (Sunset Cove #2)
After placing the paper on the table, he picked up his phone, and hit answer. “Shouldn’t you be at work, young man?”
He grinned, waiting for some smartass reply, but when all that greeted him was silence, Jordan sat forward in his chair, his stomach dropping.
“Derek?”
Again, nobody said anything, but this time Jordan heard a shuffling sound and then an anguished groan of pain.
“Derek?” Jordan demanded, and shot to his feet.
Fuck. Oh fuck.
He wasn’t sure how he knew, but somewhere in the pit of his stomach he knew something was terribly wrong.
“Derek, talk to me.” He raced inside to his kitchen counter and desperately searched for the keys he knew he’d left there. He checked under pamphlets and magazines, and when he found them, he asked, “Where are you?”
He ran to the elevator, punched the down button, and as the door slid shut he cursed the slow glide of it. He pressed the phone so hard against his ear he was surprised he didn’t break the thing, as he waited for anything from the man at the other end.
He prayed the phone wouldn’t cut them off during the descent, then right before the elevator hit the ground floor he heard words that made the air get stuck somewhere in the back of his throat. “Gym. Back of the gym. My father…”
Jordan’s hand shook as he pulled open the car door and slid inside. “Derek?”
When he got no answer, he turned the car on and the cell connected with the Bluetooth. He could hear Derek’s harsh breathing through his stereo, and the sound was haunting.
“Derek?”
There was a dreadful gurgling sound, an expulsion of air, then, “Yeah?”
Steeling his initial reaction to freak out, Jordan turned onto the main road and sped down the street like a racecar driver. “You keep talking to me, got it? Don’t you dare hang up. I’m maybe five…six minutes from you.”
More coughing, and Jordan wondered for a second if he should call an ambulance. “Derek? Do you need an?—”
“No.” The word was brutal and harsh, then in the silence of his car Jordan heard Derek’s raspy, broken whisper. “Just you.”
He tightened his fingers around the steering wheel and nodded. “You got me. Three minutes.”
Jordan zoomed past the strip of convenience stores, and when he got to the turnoff he needed he barely slowed. He entered the lot, and his eyes scanned the area as he drove down the side of the gym to the back—and that was where he spotted him.
Derek was slumped against the brick wall beside the dumpster, and the sight just about broke Jordan’s heart. After putting the car in park, he jumped out and ran to Derek’s side, where Jordan went to his knees and raised his hands, which were now shaking like a motherfucker.
Jesus Christ. Derek’s face was hard to look at.
The skin on his cheekbone was split open, blood was oozing from it, and the left eye reminded Jordan of that first day in class.
It was swollen and angry, and the actual eye wasn’t even visible.
Just the lid, which was triple the size of the right.
The left side of his lip was bloodied and split also, and Jordan didn’t know what to do first.
“Derek… I think I need to?—”
“No,” Derek grunted, and then leaned to the side to spit out the blood that had pooled in his mouth. “No hospitals.”
Jordan touched a tentative hand to Derek’s arm. “Something might be broken.”
“It’s not,” Derek argued, and then let out a labored breath. “He knows better.”
“Your father?”
Derek nodded. His arm was wound tightly around his waist, and his long legs were pulled into his body as he leaned his shoulder against the bricks.
“Still, we should get you checked?—”
“No. You do that and I have to give an address. Your address.”
“Derek, I don’t?—”
With a monumental effort, Derek pushed off the wall and reached for his shirt with a bloodstained hand. As Derek’s fingers curled into his shirt, Jordan kept his eyes on the damaged face staring up at him.
“No.”
Finally giving in to an urge he’d had since they’d met, Jordan stroked his fingers down the unaffected side of Derek’s face and heard him whisper, “Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me, Derek. You called and I?—”
“Answered.”
Understanding dawned, and Jordan leaned forward and promised something then that would forever change their lives. “Always.”
Derek took in a shuddering breath and Jordan looked around them. “Do you think you can get to your feet? Or do I need to go and get help from inside? I’m not sure if you realize this, but you kind of outweigh me.”
When Derek’s lips parted on a warped angle to smile, he winced and Jordan apologized. “Shh. Don’t talk or laugh.”
“Bossy.”
“Mhmm, and you are in no position to argue. Think you can get to your feet?”
Derek nodded and Jordan maneuvered himself so he was on his right side. It was clear from looking at Derek that when he’d taken the initial hit, and likely fallen, it had been on his right side, because while it still seemed tender, his left had taken the full brunt of the attack.
Once Jordan got Derek to the car, he ran around to the driver’s side and buckled in. When he raised his head, he noticed Derek’s right eye falling shut, and instructed, “Do not fall asleep.”
“But I’m so tired.”
“No falling asleep, or I’m taking your ass to the hospital.”
“’Kay, professor,” Derek managed, and Jordan put his foot on the gas and headed straight for home.
DEREK DIDN’T REMEMBER much of the drive back to Jordan’s or the ride up the elevator. But when he was led down the hall and into a room that was not his own, he paused on the threshold and looked toward Jordan, who was over at the balcony opening the doors to let in some air.
When Jordan glanced back at him, concern marred his expression. As he came back to Derek’s side, he reached out a steadying arm and asked, “Are you okay? You need to get off your feet.”
Derek swallowed at the kindness in those brown eyes, and braced himself against the emotions welling up inside of him.
Of course Jordan was concerned. Who wouldn’t be when faced with someone who’d just had the shit beaten out of him? That was all this was. But as Jordan placed a hand gently on his chest, Derek couldn’t stop the way his heart ached.
“This isn’t my room.”
“No,” Jordan whispered, and took Derek’s right hand, drawing him farther into the room.
He stopped them at the base of the wide bed in the center.
“But since I’m not letting you out of my sight for the next”—he looked to the clock on the wall—“oh, twenty-four hours, you are going to be in here, where I can harass you incessantly about whatever comes to mind.”
Derek’s lips pulled into a tight line and the split on his lip cracked open. “Ow, fuck. ”
“Okay, this is the one time you have permission not to laugh at my jokes.”
Derek grimaced.
“So come on, we’re going to clean you up. Then rest.” Jordan let go of his arm and asked, “You okay on your own for a second?”
Derek gave a nod and Jordan disappeared into the connecting bathroom to flick on a light. When he came back, he took Derek’s hand again. “All right. Let’s go.”
Derek followed him into the bright bathroom, and when his eyes narrowed and he groaned a little, Jordan apologized and moved to the light switch to turn it down.
“You have a dimmer in the bathroom?”
Jordan looked over his shoulder and shrugged. “Mood lighting.”
“Only you,” Derek mumbled.
“Oh, hush.” Jordan chuckled when he came back toward him. “Actually, no. Feel free to speak as much smack talk as you like. You get a pass tonight, and it will keep you awake. Now sit.”
Jordan pointed to a chair he must’ve moved into the bathroom, and Derek gingerly took it.
“Okay, let’s get this face cleaned up first.”
He watched Jordan move around the bathroom as he gathered a washcloth and cotton balls. Then he disappeared and came back with a first-aid kit and?—
“What’s that?”
Jordan looked at the little leather kit in his hand and grinned. “A manicure set. I usually use it for a weekly mani-pedi, but tonight I need the tweezers. You have some gravel in the cut above your eye.”
Once he placed that on the basin and filled it with warm water, he held up a finger and then vanished.
As Derek looked around the opulent bathroom, he saw Jordan’s whirlpool tub and decadent shower and pushed aside any images he had of the guy in there.
He remembered when he’d moved in and Jordan had told him that he could use either one.
Yeah, that’d never happened, but fuck, he’d had no problem fantasizing about Jordan in it.
“Okay, mister. I think you should swallow this,” Jordan said, handing him a shot glass full of clear liquid. “Tequila, hopefully, can numb some of the pain but not put you to sleep.”
Derek brought the glass to the non-swollen side of his mouth and tipped his head back. As the fiery liquid burned a blazing path down to his gut, he handed the glass to Jordan.
“I know, but you needed something. This is going to hurt.”
For the next half-hour, Jordan washed, cleaned, and meticulously removed gravel from the wound above Derek’s eye, and when he was finished, he gently patted his face dry and took a step back.
“How much do you like this shirt?”
Derek looked down at the black tee he was wearing that had some band’s slogan on the front, then shrugged. “It’s okay.”
Jordan picked up a pair of scissors. “So it’s replaceable?”
Gathering what was about to happen, Derek nodded. “Yeah.”
“Good. Because I don’t see you raising your arms anytime soon,” Jordan said, and then reached for the hem of Derek’s shirt and cut a straight line up the center to his neck. As the material parted, Jordan tossed the scissors on the counter and gently pushed the fabric aside.
When it was falling off Derek’s shoulders and arms, Jordan sucked in a breath, and Derek glanced down his body to see what he was looking at.
Sure enough, there was a huge red welt that covered half of his ribs and would most certainly leave a bruise tomorrow.
It was already starting to turn a bluish purple.
Jordan brought a hand up to cover the gasp that escaped his mouth, and then he raised his eyes to meet Derek’s. “Why did he do this?”
I have no fucking idea . “Wish I could tell you why he ever did it. If I had to guess, he was drunk, somehow found out where I was working, and came to pay his boy a visit. Last thing I remember was the first hit. He knocked me out cold. The rest must’ve happened after.”
“Oh, Derek,” Jordan whispered, his breath leaving him on a shuddering exhale.
“Hey, this is nothing new.”
“It is to me. And whether it’s new or not doesn’t matter. You need to report him.”
Derek’s hand whipped out to grip Jordan’s wrist. “No fucking way. If I do that, I have to file where I’m living, and somehow he’ll find out. I will not bring him to your doorstep. Do you hear me? Even calling you, coming back here, was stupid. He might’ve followed.”
Jordan knelt down until he was between Derek’s spread legs and looked up at him, and in that moment something between them shifted. The landlord and tenant. The professor and student. They vanished. And all that remained was one man who needed the other to survive.
“Listen to me, Derek Pearson. I don’t care. I wasn’t about to leave you there. You called me. You needed me. I answered.”
Derek released his hold on Jordan’s wrist and brought a trembling hand up to touch his fingers to his chin.
He needed to know in that moment that Jordan was real.
That he wasn’t hallucinating and lying out in the middle of the parking lot bleeding to death.
But when Jordan got up on his knees to bring them closer, Derek’s breath caught and he worried his lower lip with his tongue.
“Careful,” Jordan whispered, and gently touched his fingers to the swollen flesh before leaning forward to press the softest kiss Derek could’ve imagined to the corner of his mouth. “You don’t want this to start bleeding again.”
When Jordan was about to pull away, Derek tugged him back in close, and miracle of all miracles, Jordan came. Their breaths mingled as the connection between them blazed, and then Jordan’s fingers were trailing down the uninjured side of his jaw.
“Derek…” he said, and then angled his head to the side and gently kissed Derek’s lower lip.
Derek sat frozen in place at that first intimate connection, as the sweet glide of Jordan’s mouth brushed over the top of his. He couldn’t believe that Jordan Devaney was finally kissing him. There’d been so many times he’d fantasized about this, but never had he imagined it would happen like this.
“Are you okay?” Jordan whispered against his mouth.
Derek didn’t want to move, but managed a slight nod before he leaned forward again, as if in a dream, to steal another kiss.
Jordan slid his fingers to the back of his head to stroke through his hair, and this time when their lips parted, Jordan placed several kisses down his neck and nuzzled in there, where Derek heard him whisper, “What am I going to do with you?”
And all Derek could think was, Good fucking question .
EARLY THE NEXT morning, Derek stared across Jordan’s bedroom at the man who’d taken such care with him the night before. He needed to get out of there and away from Jordan before his father tracked him back to his place.
He had no idea how his father had found out where he worked, but all he had to do was ask the right person for an address and he could show up there, and… Derek shuddered at the thought of what that no-good piece of shit would, or could, do to Jordan.
Jordan had class this morning. He’d told Derek he only had one today and then he would be back, and Derek knew that would give him the perfect opportunity to do what needed to be done.
Jordan had gone above and beyond in giving him a room to stay in for as long as he had. He’d been beyond generous, and it was time to return that kindness with his safety.
It was time for him to move on.