Burn It Down
Page 18
“What the hell have I signed on for?” he muttered as Jared started hustling Lewis and Aaron out the door as they discussed what kind of distraction Jared could create while they escaped.
Tate clapped him on the shoulder. “You spend long enough around this family, it certainly won’t be the last time you ask that question.”
Laughing to himself, Tate picked up a half-empty can of soda and headed toward the kitchen.
Funny, but the idea of sticking around Jared and Tate’s family long-term—of Lewis and Aaron being part of that family—filled and warmed the corners within him he hadn’t even realized were empty and cold. Instead of deterring him, Tate’s teasing stirred a longing with him that made his insides clench.
Honestly, he didn’t think anything had ever sounded better.
TROY STEPPED up to the bar and ordered two beers. It was still kind of early to be at Monroe’s for drinks or dinner, so the place wasn’t too crowded. But after spending most of the day at the sheriff’s station dealing with CPS and making sure everything went smoothly for Lewis and Aaron, he and Jared needed to decompress.
He’d considered postponing the date because they were both tired after a late night and long day, but by the end of the afternoon, time to themselves had seemed like a brilliant idea. They’d dropped the two boys at Jared’s house and assured Tate everything was fine. Del had been there and, having been extensively briefed on the situation by Tate, had practically shoved Jared out the door after hearing they’d made plans for the evening.
The interviews had gone as well as could be expected. The lady from CPS had turned out to be very helpful—if a bit harried as Jared had said, obviously overworked—and at this stage, while the arson investigators hadn’t ruled Lewis or Aaron out of the investigation, they were currently focused on the more obvious suspect of Benny Sadler. Jared had speculated whether Aaron at least knew more than he was willing to say and was trying to protect his father, as misguided as that might have been considering the man’s treatment of him.
He knew that kind of love/hate relationship from experience. Just because Aaron’s dad had hurt him and treated him like crap didn’t stop the kid from loving him. It was complicated and confusing and probably fucking with Aaron’s head just like it had his when he’d been a child in a similar situation.
The arson investigators had been tight-lipped about how Benny Sadler’s interview had gone, but Jared had said it wasn’t unusual for them to play their cards close to their chests until they made the case watertight. Still, he knew they’d both feel better if it was confirmed Benny was guilty, in custody, and the threat of another fire no longer hanging over their heads.
He paid for their beers and made his way back to the table. Jared was tapping his fingers in time with the beat of some annoying country-pop song playing from the jukebox in the corner, but his gaze was fixed on the huge screen hanging on the far wall showing the prematch highlights for the night’s football game. It was clear Jared wasn’t actually paying attention to whatever was on the TV; his brow was creased slightly with an expression of concentration on his features as though he was mulling over something.
“I agree, football is confusing,” he said as he set one of the beers in front of Jared, gaining his attention.
“What?” Jared looked adorably baffled for a moment, before he shook his head and seemed to get his thoughts back in order. “Oh no, I wasn’t watching the game. I was just thinking about everything.”
He reached across the table and traced a finger down the side of Jared’s face and then along the line of his jaw. “No more thinking. Take a break. Otherwise I’ll have to find some way to distract you.”
“Oh yeah?” Jared’s green eyes took on a heated gleam. “And what might that involve?”
“Definitely your lips.” To demonstrate, he closed the distance between them and brushed his mouth teasingly over Jared’s, pulling back with a grin when Jared tried to follow him for more and made a noise that landed somewhere between disappointment and longing when Troy sat back again. “And if you’re really lucky, maybe my tongue.”
“Consider me sufficiently warned.” Jared sent him a light glare, clearly thwarted at not getting to kiss him longer or deeper.
There’d be plenty of time for that later when they were alone and he didn’t need to worry about the very obvious erection he’d get the second he slid his tongue into the lush heat of Jared’s mouth… and hopefully other places.
He shifted in his seat, his jeans feeling way too constrictive in certain areas, and sternly told himself not to let his thoughts go there.
The flirting subsided a little as they both ordered steaks for dinner and had started on second beers by the time their food arrived. The conversation was light and easy, with Jared relaxing as time wore on. They shared funny stories from their childhood and discovered some things they had in common, as well as a few things they adamantly disagreed on, but they were fun things like whether the Die Hard franchise should have given up and never made A Good Day to Die Hard, or if it was, in fact, the most epic movie series of all time.
The bar was starting to get crowded and Troy was beginning to think it might be a good time to suggest making a hasty exit, when Jared stiffened in his seat. All the relaxation that’d settled over him since they’d started the meal leeched out of him in a moment.
“What’s wrong?”
He started to turn, only to catch sight of a tall, broad-shouldered man with a deceptively friendly smile stepping up to their table. The smile didn’t quite reach his calculating blue eyes. His blond hair was perfectly styled, and there was something vaguely familiar about him. Considering the attention they were attracting, he didn’t think he was the only one who recognized the guy.
“Jared, I’m really glad to see you again,” the man said as he stopped next to the table, pointedly angling his body away from Troy as if to keep him out of the conversation.
“Kevin, I thought you left town.” Jared sat stiffly, fists clenched where they rested on top of the table. He was agitated and obviously didn’t want to be talking to Kevin….
Kevin McDowell. Ex-linebacker for the Houston Texans. The answer came to him in a rush of recognition. He might not have followed football very closely, but McDowell’s fall from grace as a star player and then loss of contract had been all over social media and the news.
“Well, I couldn’t leave without getting what I came for,” Kevin answered suavely.
How the hell did Jared know him? As he took in their body language, however, a burn started in his gut that he didn’t like one bit. The way Kevin was staring down at Jared, standing over him, it was clearly possessive.
All the light had left Jared’s eyes and he looked… intimidated. Daunted and insecure. The burn in Troy’s stomach ignited into an inferno of anger unfurling throughout his entire body. Jared had never looked like that for a second the entire time he’d known him. He hated that anyone could make Jared feel like that. He had no idea what had happened between the pair, but the sense he needed to pummel Kevin fucking McDowell was growing by the second.
“Can we help you with something?” he asked coolly. Jared’s head jerked up as if he’d forgotten Troy was sitting there, while Kevin sent him a faintly disgusted look.
“This is between me and my boyfriend. You’ve got no business getting into what’s mine.” Kevin sneered at him, though Troy wasn’t looking at him; he was too busy feeling alarmed over the way Jared became even paler than he’d already been.
“Sorry,” he drawled, keeping his voice icy, completely opposite to the firestorm raging inside him. He slowly got to his feet. “You must have him confused with someone else. Because last I checked, Jared didn’t belong to anyone.”
“Oh yeah?” McDowell puffed his chest up like the moronic rooster he was, clearly trying to look tough. “And who the fuck are you?”
They were attracting more and more attention, and Jared looked like he was on the verge of panic.
“I’m the person
who isn’t going to stand here and let Jared get hurt or upset. So you’ll have to excuse me if I politely ask you to fuck off.”
McDowell’s face started going an interesting shade of red, but Troy turned his back on the asshole, edging himself around the table and holding out a hand to Jared.
“Come on, it’s time we got on home.”
Jared took his hand, relief palpable in his expression and the way he gripped his fingers like a lifeline.
McDowell stepped forward like he was going to stop them. “We’re not done here.”
“Yes, you are.” Troy pushed him back a step when McDowell got into his space, but he made sure it was a defensive move, not an aggressive one. As much as he wanted the satisfaction of shoving his fist into the asshole’s face, he didn’t plan on starting a fight and was more interested in getting Jared out of there.
McDowell flung a string of insults at him, but Troy ignored them, keeping Jared a step ahead of him as they hustled out of the bar into the balmy evening air. They’d barely taken a dozen steps out the door when Jared turned back to him. Before he could figure out what had stopped him, Troy found himself with an armful of Jared, who trembled against him and clung to him like an octopus.
“It’s okay, I got you.” Troy wrapped his arms around Jared as tightly as he dared without crushing him, holding him firm and close, hoping he was giving Jared whatever he needed in that moment.
Of course it was probably too much to hope McDowell wouldn’t follow them. The guy came storming out, flinging open the door and elbowing away some other poor guy trying to get into the bar.
He’d obviously overestimated the guy’s intelligence when he’d assumed it’d been the end of their conversation.
“Jared!” McDowell stomped over, clearly in a full fit of rage now.
Troy dropped his arms from around Jared, but kept a light, comforting grip on his arm.
“Look, McDowell, Jared clearly doesn’t want to talk to you. Get some dignity for God’s sake and walk away.”
“I didn’t fucking ask you!” McDowell yelled, lunging in and grabbing Jared’s arm, tugging him forward as if he was going to drag him off like the caveman he so obviously was.
Troy reached out and clamped a hand around McDowell’s wrist, squeezing hard enough to leave bruises.
“Let. Him. Go.”
McDowell stared at him for a long moment, quite obviously taking his measure and probably trying to decide the likely outcome of a throwdown between them. Whatever McDowell saw in his expression must have convinced him it wasn’t worth the bruises.
“Fine. He’s a little bitch anyway. You two deserve each other.” McDowell released Jared’s arm, and it was all Troy could do not to give in to every atom of rage inside him that wanted to lay the bastard out on the pavement.
Jared rubbed his arm where McDowell had been holding him. A spark had finally entered his gaze as he glared at the other man.
“If you come near me again, I’ll let Del get that restraining order on my behalf, and I’ll make sure it says you can’t step one damned foot inside of Texas.”
If McDowell had been angry before, judging by the vein standing out in his neck, now he looked on the verge of having a stroke. He swung back an arm, and Troy moved on instinct alone. He intercepted the fist aimed at Jared and used McDowell’s momentum against him. Troy pulled his own punch at the last second, knowing his anger was driving the strength behind it. He hit the guy just hard enough to send him sprawling on his ass.
“You ever fucking touch him again, and a restraining order will be the least of your worries.”
He slung an arm around Jared—probably doing a damned good caveman impression of his own—and steered him hurriedly over to where he’d parked his SUV earlier in the evening. He didn’t stop once to look back at McDowell. If he did, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to hold on to his temper any longer. He doubted he’d have enough control to pull a second punch, and the last thing Jared needed tonight was another trip to the sheriff’s station because Troy got himself arrested.
When they were a few blocks from the bar, he had to pull over. His hands were shaking with leftover anger and from coming down off the adrenaline.
“Are you okay?” His voice came out rough and sounding more than a little pissed off.
Jared flinched, pressing himself toward the passenger door, and Troy lost it.
He shoved open his own door and stumbled out, then staggered around to the back of the SUV, where he promptly threw up everything he’d eaten that night. By the time he was done heaving, tears were streaming down his face. He tried to pretend it was just from the whole throwing-up thing, not because he was pretty sure Jared had been in a relationship with Kevin fucking McDowell and the bastard had physically abused him. He remembered now: some of the stories that’d circulated when McDowell had failed to be recontracted to the Houston Texans—let alone any other team—had been rumors about a string of battered ex-girlfriends and hefty payoffs to keep it quiet.
Fuck.
He shifted around to lean against the side of the car, trying to catch his breath. Jared appeared at his side with a bottle of water and packet of wet wipes.
“Where did these come from?” he asked as he gratefully took them and rinsed his mouth before running the cool, wet cloths over his heated face. They certainly hadn’t come from his car.
“The drug store is still open.” Jared hiked his thumb over his shoulder, where most of the shops were dark, except for the neons glowing in the windows of the drug store.
“Thanks,” he mumbled, this time taking a longer drink of water.
“Troy, I’m so, so sorry you got stuck in the middle of that.” Jared hovered a few steps away, twisting the hem of his shirt between his fingers.
“Don’t you dare apologize to me, Jared. You’ve got nothing to be sorry about. I should be the one apologizing. But I can’t decide if I should be sorry for not getting you out of there sooner or for not punching the bastard into next week.”
“I’m sorry about—” Jared made an awkward gesture at his SUV. “In the car just now when I reacted—”
“Jared, no. Please don’t.” He reached over and covered Jared’s fingers to stop him mauling the hem of his shirt any longer. “You don’t have to explain or justify. I get it, okay? Just please know I would rather cut off my own arm than ever, ever hurt you.”
“I know,” Jared whispered, glancing away from him. “I know you’re not like him. It just brought it all back, and if you hadn’t been here—”
Tears spilled down Jared’s cheeks and Troy cursed under his breath, quickly setting the bottle of water on top of his SUV and then pulling Jared against him.
It was like a dam bursting as Jared sank against him and started sobbing into his chest, hiccupping breaths and crying so hard his entire body shook. Troy just held him, feeling helpless as tears silently slid down his own face. He’d never wanted to kill another person in his entire life, but in that moment, he could easily imagine tracking down Kevin fucking McDowell, wrapping his hands around the man’s throat, and squeezing until all the air left his lungs.
He didn’t know how long they stood there, but after a while, Jared’s sobs subsided into uneven breaths, and then he slumped more heavily against him, like all the energy had been drained from his body along with the tears.
“Come on, let me take you home.”
Jared nodded listlessly, and Troy tried not to worry at it, hoping it was just exhaustion and nothing more permanent or serious. He helped Jared into the passenger seat of his SUV and then jogged around to hop in behind the wheel.
Fate seemed determined to keep tossing complications at them. Maybe any other sane or smart person would have taken a step back. But as he started the engine and glanced over at Jared beside him—pale and quiet but more gorgeous than ever—it only made him more certain that what he had with Jared was it for him. None of his previous relationships had come close to what he felt for this man, not even Jeanie, and h
e’d been convinced he was going to spend the rest of his life with her.
Now certainly wasn’t the moment for grand declarations, so he made a silent vow to himself instead. He was all in. And as long as he drew breath, no one and nothing would hurt Jared ever again.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
JARED DIDN’T even notice Troy hadn’t taken him home to his own house until the warm grip on his hand led him through an unfamiliar front door.
He felt like a zombie, his mind empty while his body was numb and cold. He’d shed a few tears over Kevin in the weeks after he’d walked out of his apartment in Houston and temporarily moved in with Del, but nothing like the torrent that’d erupted from him when Troy had pulled him into his arms to hold him safe and secure.
Del had worried in the months following that he hadn’t been dealing with things, but he’d assured his brother he was fine. Except maybe he hadn’t been. Maybe he’d simply pushed it way down inside where he could no longer feel any of it and everything that’d happened tonight had broken the seal and sent it all gushing out.
God only knew what Troy thought. Not only for being in a relationship with someone like Kevin in the first place, but for staying, even after the abuse had started, and then crying all over him like a crazy person.
Shame burned through him, proving he wasn’t completely numb after all. Oh great. Out of all the things he could possibly feel in that moment, absolute humiliation was what his subconscious had decided to go with.
Troy didn’t say anything as he led him through his house, not bothering to turn on any lights until they reached the bedroom. Not that Jared noticed much of anything.
“You’re still shaking,” Troy murmured when they stopped by the bed. “Why don’t you get under the blankets?”
He might have nodded; he wasn’t sure. All he wanted to do was close his eyes and forget tonight had ever happened. The gamut of emotions he’d smashed through in a single short hour had scoured his insides raw. First he’d been more relaxed and happier than he could ever remember being, enjoying the meal and drinks with Troy, all underlaid with the spicy-sweet knowledge of exactly where the night was headed.