The waiter shook his head. “It’s Sebastian not Seb, and there’s a fast food chain not far from here.”
Jake balled his hands into fists and puffed his chest out. “And?”
“It might be more suited to your palate.”
Jake parted his lips to unload a truck load of curse words, but Carl pressed his hand on his chest, and he snapped his mouth shut.
“A table for two.” Carl said.
Sebastian’s gaze lingered on Carl. His attention snapped from his expensive jacket to the watch circling his wrist, then his polished shoes before returning to Carl’s unblinking eyes.
“Of course, sir.”
Jake held his arm up for the man to see. “I’ve got a watch too ya know, Seb.”
“I can see it, but it looks out of place on your wrist.”
Jake narrowed his eyes. “Why?”
Carl snorted. “It looks far too big and far too expensive.”
Jake clutched the watch and brushed his thumb against the face. A gift from Maddox. The only gift he had received for years, other than a bag of Humbugs from his boss, Sam, each birthday.
Carl positioned himself between Sebastian and Jake. He shot an amused look over his shoulder and laughed lightly.
“Bet you're regretting eating out now.”
Jake crossed his arms and turned away. “Whatever.”
The woman’s jade pin was safe. Jake turned his attention to another target out of spite. Sebastian in the tight waistcoat, strutting between tables like he had a fist up his arse. The other waiters all used standard ball-point pens, but not Sebastian. Jake had to wait for the opportune moment and strike. He seated himself and ordered a small pizza while plotting how to grift the precious pen from Sebastian. Not an easy task when he held it most of the time.
Carl hummed while eating. He licked his fingers noisily, closed his eyes and moaned. Jake propped his elbows on the table and covered his face with his hands. For twenty minutes Jake had sat with his face growing hotter, and more and more eyes glancing at him. The customers muttered, and pointed at their table, and even a fire-engine screeching by the window couldn’t pull their gaze away.
“Could you be any more embarrassing?” Jake hissed.
Carl chuckled. “You wishing I just had that sandwich now?”
Jake peeked through his fingers. “I hate you.”
Carl shrugged. “Could be worse. Tom gets everything he eats stuck in his moustache, and Amber bites food like it’s the throat of someone she hates. Savage.”
Carl took another bite and smashed his fist to the table three times. “Oh yeah, that’s the spot. Right there!”
Jake rubbed at his face, but the embarrassed heat wouldn’t disperse. He heard Carl laughing and dropped his hands to the table.
“You moan like you’re having a goddamn orgasm.”
“Yeah, the pizza’s that good.”
Jake shook his head and picked a circle of peperoni off his slice. “No, it’s not, it's mediocre at best. How are you supposed to taste the cheese when they put so many pointless herbs on it?”
Carl narrowed his eyes. “Guess you and the boss don’t do the whole dating thing?”
He lifted one eyebrow, awaiting Jake’s reply.
“He’s more likely to bend me over the table than sit down and eat pizza.”
Carl laughed, spluttered, then drummed his fist into his chest to dislodge the stuck pizza. “Just as I thought. You know, I’ve never even seen the boss eat.”
“He eats like a normal person.”
“Doesn’t lick the plate? Or belch?”
Jake grimaced, then shook his head. “Course not.”
Carl bobbed his head, dropped his gaze, then released a loud bellow from his mouth. The tables around them fell silent, and Jake dropped his head into his hands and squeezed. He peeked through his fingers and glared at Carl as he smirked.
A kid on the next table burped, and Carl turned to him and clapped his hands. “Good one.”
The parents of the child scolded him, and the happy smile spreading his lips retracted.
The family were picture perfect, beautiful wife, groomed husband, and adorable kids, even though they were dressed up as mini business men. It was the kind of family scene Jake had once sneered at out of longing, the complete opposite to his childhood. It didn’t stir up jealousy anymore. Neither did the couple with their hands joined over their table, and a candle flickering between them.
He had Maddox, not a conventional relationship, but exactly what he needed. Maddox made him feel alive, and he hoped he made Maddox feel the same.
“And you’re grinning like a moron because?”
Jake snapped his gaze back to Carl then massaged his mouth to remove the smile. “Nothing…”
Carl pursed his lips then nodded. He leaned back in his chair, braced his hand on his chest, and released another burp to the ceiling.
All good feelings left Jake and he groaned, flushing in embarrassment.
“Please stop, let’s just go back,” he mumbled.
Carl shook his head. “No way, I’m enjoying this.”
Sebastian strolled towards them. Instead of his disgusted expression fixing on Jake, he flared his nostrils and glared at Carl.
“Do you not have manners?”
Carl shrugged. “Don’t blame me. I didn’t burp until I came in here, must be the food.”
Sebastian clenched his hands and hissed through his gritted teeth. “Can you kindly leave?”
“Kindly?” Carl muttered, “I could kindly leave, but I’m not paying for the pizza if I do.”
“Fine, just get out.”
Carl pouted his lips then nodded at Jake. “Ready?”
“I was ready thirty minutes ago.”
“Let’s go then.”
Sebastian ushered them out, shooting reassuring smiles over his shoulder to the shocked customers. Jake felt the need to apologise but stopped himself when he remembered how rude Sebastian had been earlier.
“What the hell was that about?” Jake asked, once they had distanced themselves from the restaurant.
Carl shrugged. “That’s how you get free food.”
Jake shook his head. “So embarrassing.”
“Free food and doing as the boss told me.”
Jake whipped his attention back to Carl. “What?”
“Jittery. Make sure he stays out of trouble. Distract him.”
Jake frowned, and shook his head. “I don’t understand.”
“You weren’t hungry, you were looking to steal to get your fix. What were you planning on doing before I embarrassed you, hey? Who were you going to pick-pocket?”
Jake glared at his scruffy shoes and shrugged. “The waiter. The pen he used when writing our order. Gold, engraved. He would’ve given chase for sure.”
Carl wagged his finger. “Exactly, but once I started chomping and slurping, you lost interest.”
“It was humiliating.”
Carl carried on up the path with his chin tilted high, and a smug hum vibrating his lips.
“Still got it, though.” Jake mumbled.
Carl stilled, then spun around. “What?”
Jake retrieved the pen from his pocket and held it in the air. “I still got it. He didn’t notice it had gone with you acting like that, but it says, ‘To my daddy, love Ella.’”
Carl snatched the pen from his grip. “What the hell am I supposed to do with this?”
Jake shrugged. “I would’ve returned it.”
“After he ran at you.”
“Yeah, he looked like he could, and when he slowed, I would’ve turned and thrown it back at him.”
“You are crazy, why do that? What’s the point of stealing if you’re not gunna keep what you steal?”
Jake shrugged. “The chase, the excitement. The danger.”
Carl shook the pen. “Just sell it, get the money.”
“It’s not about money.”
“You tried to get the reward for the diamond.”
“I deserved it after all you lot put me through.”
Carl shook his head. “Still can’t believe the boss didn’t kill you for messing him about, instead he goes and saves your arse. You got away with making a fool out of him.”
“Trust me…he’s found ways to punish me, and if I steal that diamond or betray him in any way, he says I’ll live to regret it.”
Carl chuckled and shifted foot to foot. “Even with the boss threatening you, you're still at his beck and call.”
Jake shook his head. “I won’t betray him, and I doubt he has it in him to carry out the threat.”
Carl rolled his eyes and turned away. “What? You don’t think he would kill you?”
Jake shrugged and turned his head.
Carl exhaled slowly, then huffed in amusement. “Don’t go falling for him. It’ll end bad for you.”
“I’m not some sixteen-year-old with a crush.”
“No, you're twenty-two, almost twenty-three. You should know better.”
Carl rolled back his shoulder and lifted his arm, ready to throw the pen. Jake leapt forward and gripped his wrist to stop him.
“You can’t just throw it away.”
“Why the hell not?”
Jake released Carl and took a step back. He frowned fiercely at the ground with the weight of Carl’s eyes pressing into him.
Carl growled and pointed to the concrete slab Jake stood on. “Fine, stay here.”
“Like a good little pup.” Jake whispered.
“Yes, exactly.”
Jake did as Carl told him and watched as Carl hurried back the way they’d come.
Stealing the pen had done nothing to loosen the tight coil that needed release, especially with Carl acting like an uncouth idiot. Maddox was the only one who could do it, and the restlessness in Jake’s veins poisoned him, made him want to do something rash, something careless until he was back to normal level again.
He huffed, shifted foot to foot, then clenched and relaxed his hands.
The smell of smoke carried on the wind, and he scanned the tightly packed houses, wondering who had ruined their evening meal. The top of the houses glowed orange, and Jake took a step back, gazing at the sky, lit up, with dark plumes climbing high.
“What the hell…”
He left the slab and rushed to the end of the road. Another row of pressed houses blocked the view, but the orange pulsed in the sky, and he heard a soft crackle in the distance. Fire, and it didn’t look like some over-done dinner.
“Jake!”
Carl ran down the path, one arm swaying, and other one holding a phone to his ear. He wrapped an arm around Jake’s chest and tugged him back up the street.
“There’s a fire,” Jake said dumbly.
Carl nodded, then braced a hand on his knee and gulped at the air. “Yeah, the boss’s house.”
“What?”
Carl didn’t reply. He frowned, listening intently to the voice on the other end of the phone. Jake leaned forward to catch Maddox’s voice, but he rocked back on his heels when he heard Tom’s instead.
“Got it.” Carl said, then tugged the phone from his ear.
“What is it? Someone’s torched his house?”
Carl straightened and grimaced, then gripped Jake’s shoulders and nodded. “Looks like it.”
Jake shuffled and swallowed uncomfortably, and Carl relaxed his grip.
“The bos-Maddox is fine, everyone is fine, just the house.”
Jake nodded. “Is he there?”
“Yeah, he’s there.”
“Is he angry we left?” Jake asked.
Carl gestured to the orange glow. “I think he’ll be happy we did unless fire is another kink of his.”
Jake smacked his hand down on Carl’s. “Let’s go, then.”
Carl shook his head slowly. “No, you need to go back to your place.”
“No way, I want to see Maddox.”
“He wants you to go back to your flat.”
Jake struggled, but Carl kept a firm grip of his shoulder. “Why?”
“Because that’s what he wants.”
“And you, where does he want you?”
Carl released Jake, then squeezed the back of his neck with a pained expression. “He wants me with him.”
“So, I get sent away like I’m some inconvenience. I want to know what’s going on.”
Carl’s phone buzzed, and he blanched at the name flashing on screen. He pressed his thumb down and raised his twitching hand to his ear.
“Boss—”
Carl leaned away from the phone then held it out for Jake.
He took it and pressed it to his ear. “What’s happening?”
“I need you to go back to your flat and wait there.”
There was no emotion to his voice, and Jake frowned.
“What’s going on?”
“It’s not important right now.” Maddox sighed.
“Yes, it is, and I want to know. I could’ve been in that house, and I want to know how, or why it’s on fire.”
Jake held his breath waiting for Maddox’s reply. There were no words, only the crackle of fire, and muffled shouts. Then Maddox’s slow exhale fuzzed the line.
“Hand the phone back to Carl.”
Jake flexed his face and blinked in quick succession at Maddox’s bored tone.
“No.” he said, flaring his nostrils.
“Jake.”
His heart thumped faster at Maddox's tone of voice. He preferred bored to angry, and Maddox was definitely angry. Jake swallowed uncomfortably, then held the phone out for Carl to take.
“Yes, boss.”
Carl listened intently, then slipped the phone back into his pocket. He shot Jake a pitiful look, then flicked his chin in the direction of the fire.
“I’ve got to go.”
Jake took a step forward, tightening his hands into fists. “And I’m coming too.”
Carl’s face creased with sympathy. “You’re no use to him. His words not mine.”
Jake deflated and retreated a step. He couldn’t look Carl in the eye, didn’t want to see his pity, and when he stretched his hand out to pat Jake on the shoulder, he recoiled fast.
“You better go, then,” he snapped.
Jake turned around and rushed up the path with his face reddening and his eyes stinging. He refused to run even though he wanted to; he walked at a fast pace instead. Carl didn’t call for him, and when Jake flashed a look over his shoulder, he no longer stood on the pavement. Jake paused at the end of the road, glanced left then right, then shook his head between the two routes.
“No.” he muttered.
He would not be banished to his flat. Maddox couldn’t stop him from finding out for himself what was happening.
Jake lifted his hood and pulled it over his head, down to his eyes. Then he walked in the direction Carl had gone. It was a mile walk back to the house, and the paths were filled with worried faces, and panicked eyes. The road had been cordoned off, and beyond the plastic blocks, the lights of fire engines flashed. Their blue strobes were no match for the intense orange that reached for the sky. Every possible shade of orange glowed from the houses; it lashed and spat into the darkness. Out of context it would’ve looked beautiful, but matched with the crashing, and the screaming, the sight rattled Jake’s bones, and stuttered his steps.
Even at the end of the road, the heat singed Jake’s eyeballs and he blinked to ease them. The intense smell of burning plastic invaded his nostrils, and he slapped his hand to his nose. Even the smoke carried heat, and he felt the burn at the back of his throat. Jake lifted the neck of his hoodie to cover his nose and joined the mass of people watching on.
The fire climbed into the sky, busting windows and collapsing walls. Each time a structure fell, the flames reared up, and the sound alone had Jake retreating a few steps along with everyone else. No one could survive an inferno like that, and the flames had spread to other houses. Ones where the occupants were most likely t
ucked up in bed, completely unaware.
If Maddox hadn’t been called away, that’s where Jake would’ve been. Lying in the bed on the top floor, while the sea of fire engulfed the downstairs. There would have been no chase, no buzz of adrenaline. Only death. Jake shuffled and turned to leave but stopped when he saw Maddox.
Unlike the rest of the crowd, Maddox didn’t retreat. He stood with his hands braced on the cordon and his focus unwavering on the fire. Carl was on one side of him, and Amber the other. The three of them stood statue still and didn’t cower even when a window blew, and glass smashed to the ground.
Amber turned sharply, and her red hair flicked up. Even that looked soft and forgiving with the backdrop of flames. She scanned the gathered crowd, and Jake ducked behind a man shaking his head in disbelief. Amber turned back to Maddox, spoke close to his ear, then moved away. She tapped on her phone as she walked, and the crowd parted and allowed her passage.
Maddox gripped Carl’s shoulder and tugged him close. He spoke into Carl’s ear, then patted his arm. It seemed almost intimate, and Jake frowned at the display. Carl nodded, and they resumed their statue-like stance.
Jake slunk away and tugged the hood off his head. Maddox was relieved Carl was unharmed but couldn’t spare any concern for him. He was no use to Maddox.
Jake stomped bitterly up the path, his nostrils flared as he went. He yanked his phone free of his pocket, then gritted his teeth. There were no messages from Maddox. No messages from anyone.
Chapter 3
Jake slammed the door of his flat, then flung himself face first on the sofa. The smoke had clung to the fibres of his hoodie, and each inhale brought the acidic burn into his lungs. He coughed and rolled on to his back. The ceiling of his flat wasn’t pristine with moody spot lights like Maddox’s place, instead there were mysterious grey patches, and the bulb dangled free of any lightshade. Jake glanced around his flat with a huff. There were no hidden speakers, or a glossy piano, or an ice machine on the fridge. If Jake wanted ice, he chipped it from the freezer with a knife, and the shards had the taste of frozen peas infused in them.
Jake shuffled, grimaced, then leaned up to remove the TV controller from his spine. He pointed it and sighed as he pressed the red button until his thumb went white. Only when the controller creaked, and his hand rattled did the battered old television turn on.
Fire and Sand Page 2