Page 77 of Shrapnel

Jamie grinned, stepping into Jackson’s space. He wrapped a lazy arm around his waist and drew their hips together.

“You’ve told me no before, and look how that turned out.”

Jackson cocked his head but didn’t peel Jamie’s arm off his waist. “If I remember correctly, you said it wasn’t satisfying.”

Without answering Jamie breezed past him. Ducking under his attempt to keep him out and taking a seat on the bed. The thin mattress dipped under him and he smiled coyly.

“I was young. Naïve. Didn’t know what I had until I lost it. C’mon Jackie Boy, if you can’t do a favor for the guy you sleep with, who can you do it for?”

Slamming the door hard enough to shake the foundation, Jackson leaned his back up against it. For some reason, he was unwilling to get closer to Jamie. The kid was dangerous. Not only had he slipped past all his defenses, but Jackson had even let him stay with him. For Christ’s sake, he even checked on him in the night to make sure he was still breathing.

“We slept together once.”

“So far.”

Rolling his eyes, Jackson scrubbed his face roughly. Truthfully, the timing was significant. He needed to make a decision—leave or stay. While leaving was the safe option, he found himself wavering. Staying was…. appealing for reasons he wasn’t sure he wanted to admit. Even to himself. Especially to himself.

For all his blustering, he had watched Jamie sleep. His lips parted as his chest rose and fell in gentle breaths. The stupidly enticing nipple ring had drawn more of his attention than he was comfortable with. Only the sight of those bloodied bandages wrapped around Jamie’s lithe abdomen brought his thoughts back to where they should be.

“Why do you care?”

Jamie’s smile faltered and Jackson hardened his stare. No bullshit. He wanted a real answer.

“Just because I’m fucked up doesn’t mean I want other people to suffer.”

Jackson suspected the only person Jamie didn’t care about was himself.

“You want me to protect the little Lord of White Sand Mesa from his own people? What’s in it for me?”

“Blowjobs?”

“Something I want.”

Jamie laughed, low and rumbling. “Money. Lots of money.”

Jackson scowled and looked away from Jamie. He would do it, but it doesn’t mean he was doing it for the kid.

15

Hush, Hush We Both Can’t Fight It

His second canof energy drink had yet to take off the edge of fatigue. The aluminum can was dented under his fingertips as he trudged across the employee parking lot. Condensation slicked the sides of the drink and with each step, he felt like the can might plummet to the concrete below. Owen was too tired to care.

He supposed it was a nice morning. The breeze was cool, the promise of winter lingering in the way it ruffled his hair. Splotches of clouds were keeping the sun in check. If he were an outdoor person, he might bemoan having to go to work. But Owen was more comfortable inside. Sitting in his demon chair, fingers on the keyboard, and the air only as fresh as the last filter change.

The secretary glanced up at him as he walked past her little desk. Glossed lips parted as if she wanted to extend a greeting, but she stopped short at the way Owen hunched his shoulders. Poor girl was confused. He used to spend a good portion of his morning commute thinking of ways to flirt with her. Wondering if it was appropriate to ask her out, and how he would handle it if she said no.

That was last month. This week he didn’t care. He didn’t care if she ever smiled at him again or if he caught a glimpse of her nipples through the thin little sweaters she wore.

Owen didn’t care about anything except the hooded look in Jamie’s eyes when he told him he was afraid of him. Every time he pictured it was like a punch to the gut. Or at least, Owen assumed that’s what the feeling was. He had never been punched in the gut.

The problem with hindsight was the regret. Owen had said yes. He looked Jamie right in the eye and told him he was afraid of him. But the moment the word left his lips he knew it wasn’t true. That he wasn’t really afraid of Jamie, not like that. He was confused. Unsure. But not afraid.

Owen was the first to admit he had a good childhood and a good life. How could he possibly fathom what Jamie had been through? Even Elijah didn’t know. Maybe he didn’t want to know.

It was easier to accept Jamie as a villain rather than acknowledge that someone he cared about had been hurt in ways he could never understand.

Jamie ignored all his calls and texts. He wasn’t even reading them. There were no snarky comments or weirdly timed reminders that energy drinks and soda did not count as water. Jamie disappeared from Owen’s life just as fast as he had come.