by G. R. Lyons
“Stop,” Zac ordered, and Adrian snapped his mouth shut. Zac rubbed his hands along Adrian's arms and gave him a soft smile. “Here's what we're gonna do.”
Adrian nodded rapidly. Yes, someone to tell him what to do. That was what he was used to. What he needed.
“We're gonna have something to eat,” Zac went on, “and then we're gonna make a plan for tomorrow, and then we'll get some sleep. Sound good?”
Adrian kept nodding, then frowned. “Tomorrow?” What was tomorrow?
Zac gave his shoulders a squeeze. “Campus is too far from here for you to walk,” he pointed out. “So I'll have to drive you. But we've got different schedules, so we'll just have to work that out.” He paused and tipped his head down a bit, looking up at Adrian from under his eyelashes. “We will work it out, alright? It's gonna be an adjustment for both of us, but we'll make it work. It's only a couple of months.”
“And then I can pay you back,” Adrian said, mostly to himself, feeling the weight of that burden lift a bit more.
“We'll talk about that later,” Zac said, waving it aside. “For now, let's just eat, yeah? One thing at a time.”
Adrian nodded and followed Zac out to the kitchen. Yeah, one thing at a time. He could do that.
He hoped.
Chapter 15
ZAC SHUFFLED back into the apartment and collapsed onto the bed with a groan. Too damned early. He'd had to get up hours before he normally did on a school day so he could drive Adrian to campus. The damned man had been up and dressed, perfectly pressed and alert—although alert was a relative term, Adrian's demeanor a little fuzzy around the edges thanks to his medication—at an hour that Zac rarely ever saw. Zac only had three classes, but Adrian had five, starting early and lasting all day, so Zac had dragged himself out of bed to get Adrian to his first class on time.
Holy hells, this was going to be an adjustment.
Zac fell right back to sleep, then woke again just in time to get himself going to start his own day. He made it back to campus, and only got through his first class thanks to a travel mug of coffee that hardly left his hand for the entire hour he was stuck in that desk.
He met up with his bandmates at lunch, feeling slightly more human.
“Dude, you look like shit,” Kade said.
But apparently not looking it.
“Fuck off,” Zac grumbled.
“Long night?” Smitty teased. “A long, hard night, I hope?”
Zac shook his head, scrambling for a reasonable excuse. “Homework.” He shrugged. “I put it off too long, had to do it all last night.”
“Dude, that sucks,” Kade said, giving him a sympathetic frown.
“Not like missing one assignment would kill you,” Smitty countered.
“Hey.” Zac wadded up a napkin and threw it at Smitty's head, then held up a hand, pinching his thumb and forefinger together. “I'm this close to graduating,” he growled.
“Bro, easy,” Smitty said, holding up his hands in surrender. “I was just joking.”
Zac eyed him, then forced a chuckle, trying to play it off like it was no big deal.
“So, check it,” Kade said, cutting in with a grin on his face. “You remember that big audition concert we were trying to get into?”
Smitty groaned, but Zac sat forward, nodding. “Yeah. The one right after graduation? Where all the scouts are supposed to be?”
“The one we didn't get a slot for,” Smitty muttered.
“Well, I got a call last night,” Kade said, still grinning at them. Smitty finally took notice, sitting up straighter, and Zac fidgeted, waiting. Kade was clearly dragging this out intentionally. Finally, he laughed and said, “Two bands dropped out, so we're now the first alternate.”
“Fuck, is that all?” Smitty spat. “Here I was thinking you were gonna say we've got a spot.”
“But we might,” Kade insisted. “There's still a couple months until then. Someone else might drop out. And then we're in.”
“Holy shit,” Zac breathed. They might actually get a slot in that show. If they got in, it could be their big break. The annual auditions concert, sponsored by the university, was the biggest gathering of indie bands on the whole Isle. Media and talent scouts were always present. Several big name acts had been discovered there.
And Inferno were good. Zac believed that with every fiber of his being. If they could just get a slot, they'd be a sure thing for a recording contract. They'd make it big. They'd be rich.
Zac could get his dad the surgery he needed. Maybe move his parents into a better house in a better neighborhood. Help finance Hadley's new business. Get Fane the supplies he was going to need for the newest child on the way. The list went on and on.
By the time Zac got to his last class of the day, eagerly waiting for Adrian to join him, he was still shaking with excitement. His leg bounced as he idly scribbled in his notebook.
Finally, Adrian walked into the room, quiet and subdued as usual. Zac couldn't help grinning. He was dying to share the good news with his man.
“Hey,” he whispered as Adrian lowered himself into his seat.
“Hey,” Adrian mumbled.
Zac leaned closer. “Tonight, you and I are celebrating.”
Adrian gave him a quick glance, then returned his focus to laying out his things, not saying a word.
“Ade?” Zac asked, a frown taking over his face. “Babe,” he whispered, keeping his voice low so no one around them could hear, “did you hear me?”
Adrian gave a slow nod, then swallowed hard. “I'm in trouble.”
“What?”
Adrian froze as the professor walked into the room, then he slowly pulled a piece of paper out of his bag and slid it over to Zac.
It was a letter from Stronghold Insurance and Personal Defense Agency, on behalf of their client, Sebastian Frost, and Mr. Frost's banking institution, Heritage Bank. The letter accused Adrian of theft of a bank card.
“What the hells?” Zac barked. The professor shot him a look, and Zac muttered an apology before ducking his head and looking at Adrian, lowering his voice. “What the hells?” he repeated.
Adrian started to answer, but the professor started speaking, so Adrian took the letter away and tucked it into his bag, turning his focus on the lecture. Zac was tempted to pull Adrian out of class and find out what was going on, but he couldn't cause that kind of disturbance. Not when they both had so much riding on making it to graduation. Not that one disturbance would likely get them thrown out of the class, but he wasn't going to risk it.
He'd just have to wait.
The class seemed to drag on interminably, Zac's leg bouncing the whole while. He was still itching to share his news, but this letter was making him anxious. If Adrian was accused of theft, things could get very, very bad.
Finally, just about the time Zac thought he couldn't wait any longer, the professor called an end to class, reminding them of their upcoming assignments, but Zac couldn't bring himself to care. He turned to face Adrian, watching the man methodically pack his things.
“Ade?”
“I'm sorry,” Adrian whispered. “I have to go.”
“To the bank?” Zac asked, and Adrian nodded. “I'll drive you.”
Adrian paused in his packing and glanced over. “You don't have to do that.”
“Yeah, I do,” Zac decided, shoving his things into his bag. “Come on.”
Adrian silently followed him.
They got to Zac's car, Zac tossing his bag into the back while Adrian eased into the front passenger seat, clutching his own bag to his chest. Zac slammed the back door shut and threw himself into the driver's seat.
“Let me see that letter again,” he said.
Adrian slowly drew it out and handed it over.
Zac scanned the letter, frowning. “This is ridiculous. He only kicked you out yesterday.”
Adrian winced.
“Sorry, babe,” Zac murmured, rubbing his arm, then looked at the letter again. “Your dad is seriously accusing you of
stealing?”
Adrian nodded.
“Fucking bullshit,” Zac muttered, shaking his head. He finished the letter, then handed it back. “We should probably go to this Stronghold place first, actually.”
Adrian frowned, looked down at the letter, then gave a nod. “You're probably right,” he whispered.
Zac gave a sharp nod, started the car, and took off down the street.
“What's that address again?” Zac asked, glancing at the incriminating letter lying on Adrian's lap.
Adrian glanced down. “3421 Carriage Street.”
Zac frowned. “Carriage Street?” He'd heard of it, but he had no idea where it was. “Do me a favor: Look that up and see what side of town it's on.”
Adrian leaned down and pulled his mobile out of his bag. The traffic lights changed, so Zac continued slowly down the road while Adrian tapped on his mobile screen.
“Shit,” Adrian whispered.
“What?” Zac tried to look over, catching glimpses of concern on Adrian's face between glancing back at the road.
Adrian blew out a breath. “He cut off my phone.”
“What?” Zac yelled, whipping around to look at him, only to jerk back forward just in time to miss colliding with another car. He winced and waved apologetically at the other driver, then turned down a side street and pulled over. Zac put the car in park but left it running as he looked at Adrian. “That man doesn't waste any time, does he?”
Adrian shook his head grimly.
Zac sighed. “I'm so sorry, babe. This'll all work out, I promise.” Somehow. He pulled out his own phone and looked up directions to Stronghold. They were going the wrong way, but it wasn't far. Zac pulled back onto the street and turned around.
They reached the office and found a place to park, though Adrian stayed in his seat for a long moment after Zac shut off the car, just staring at the office's entrance.
“You alright?” Zac asked.
Adrian took a shaky breath. “I've never been in trouble before.” He paused, grimacing. “Not like this, anyway.”
Zac reached over and grabbed his hand, giving it a squeeze. “I'm sure it'll be fine.” Mr. Frost couldn't be that cold and vindictive, right? Zac stifled a shiver. Maybe he could. Summoning up an encouraging smile, Zac squeezed Adrian's hand again. “Come on.”
Adrian nodded absently and got out of the car, following him.
Zac walked straight up to the receptionist's desk, not even pausing long enough to give Adrian a chance to find the courage to introduce himself. “Hi. We're here about a client of yours.”
The receptionist's eyebrows went up. “Excuse me?”
Zac took the letter from Adrian, slapping it down on the counter. “My friend here is being accused of theft.”
The receptionist glanced over the letter, her mouth pressing into a thin line. “One moment.” She snatched up her phone and pressed a button. “Mr. Harper, there are two…gentlemen here asking about a letter you sent them on behalf of Sebastian Frost.” She paused, then gave a sharp nod. “Yes, sir.” She hung up the phone, then pushed the letter back across the counter. “Mr. Harper will see you.” She pointed to her right. “Down the hall there, third office on your right.”
“Thanks,” Zac muttered, snatching the letter back with one hand while he used the other to gently grab Adrian's arm, steering him down the hall. He glanced over at the man. Adrian's expression was blank but his entire body was tense. If they made it through this without him completely falling apart, it was going to be a miracle.
They reached the office and stepped inside to find a man who looked like every stereotypical salesman ever portrayed.
“Hello, I'm Mr. Harper,” the man introduced himself.
Zac shook his hand. “I'm Zac.” He hooked a thumb at Adrian. “This is Adrian Frost.”
Mr. Harper gave Adrian a quick once-over. “Ah. Mr. Frost.” He gestured at the two chairs before his desk. “Please, have a seat.”
Zac nudged Adrian into a chair, then took the other while Mr. Harper turned around and rooted through a file cabinet before pulling out a slim folder and dropping it open on his desk.
“Before we begin,” Mr. Harper said, “do you have your own representation you'd like present for these proceedings?”
Adrian slowly shook his head. “I thought…on my father's policy…you're my representation…”
“Not any longer,” Mr. Harper said, grabbing another file, this one considerably thicker, and setting it down before Adrian. “As of half six yesterday evening, you are no longer included on your father's policies.”
Zac felt Adrian go ridged beside him, and turned to see the blood drain out of his face. Holy hells. His dad had cast him off his insurance just like that? “What the fuck?” Zac barked. “Did he come straight down here after he kicked you out?”
Adrian looked at him, eyes wide and pleading, and Zac inwardly kicked himself. He was making this worse. He shot Adrian an apologetic smile and clasped his hands in his lap, his leg bouncing anxiously.
“This here,” Mr. Harper went on, “is a proposal for an individual policy for yourself, outlining coverage and premium payments. You can take that with you.”
Adrian reached out a shaky hand and slowly pulled the file onto his lap, muttering thanks in a dull tone.
“Now, then,” Mr. Harper went on, looking almost too cheerful, “as for the charges…” He glanced over the few pages in the file before him. “Mr. Frost states here that you are in possession of a bank card in his name.”
Adrian frowned. “Only the one he gave me years ago, for expenses.” He pulled out his wallet and opened it, the entire contents being his school ID and one bank card. Adrian pulled out the card and handed it over.
Mr. Harper checked the card, comparing it to what was written in the file before him. “Yes, this is the one.”
“I didn't steal it,” Adrian blurted out. “He gave that to me years ago. I just– When he–” Adrian paused, squeezing his eyes shut as he forced out the words: “When he kicked me out yesterday, it was just in my wallet…I didn't even think about it…and he didn't ask…”
Adrian started gasping for breath, his hands clutching the chair's armrests so tight that his fingers looked bloodless. Zac whirled around and grabbed Adrian's face, forcibly turning him so they were facing each other.
“Breathe, Ade,” he murmured. “It's alright. Just breathe, baby–” Zac froze, realizing what he'd just done in front of a total stranger. Shit. Too late now. He sucked in a breath to steady himself and focused on Adrian. “Just breathe.”
Adrian stared back at him, still gasping, but slowly began to calm, following Zac's own steady rhythm. He let out a sigh and gave Zac a small nod. Zac slowly lowered his hands and turned back to face Mr. Harper, seeing a smirk on the man's face.
Zac glared at him.
“Now I see why Frost booted him in such a hurry,” Mr. Harper said, chuckling and shaking his head. Zac was about to yell at the man until he realized Mr. Harper's tone wasn't exactly as gleeful as he was trying to make it sound. The agent caught Zac's glare and let out a sigh. “My brother is gay. I don't dare tell Frost that or he'd drop me as an agent. So don't worry. I won't say a thing about either of you. To anyone.” He paused and cleared his throat, turning his attention back to Adrian. “Alright, look. We go down to the bank, turn over that card, and no charges will be filed. Sound good?”
Zac jerked upright in his seat and looked at Adrian, whose eyes were wide with hope.
“That's it?” Adrian breathed.
Mr. Harper nodded. “You'll no longer have access to the account, of course, but yeah. No charges. I'll make sure of it.”
Adrian sighed so heavily, Zac thought his body must have no air left. “Thank you,” Adrian whispered.
The agent nodded again, then asked, “Just to be sure, there haven't been any charges against that account between half six yesterday and now, have there?”
Adrian rapidly shook his head.
“Alri
ght, good.” Mr. Harper let out a sigh. “That makes things easier. Otherwise I would have had to force charges for money stolen.”
Adrian paled again, but gave a nod.
“Good.” Mr. Harper closed the file, tapped the end of it on his desk, and stood. “Shall we?”
Zac jumped straight up while Adrian slowly rose on shaky legs. They followed the agent outside and made arrangements to follow the man to the bank. Zac got Adrian into the car and drove a few blocks until they reached the main branch for Heritage Bank, the same place where Zac and his family held their accounts.
He snorted a laugh. If Frost knew the Cinders banked at the same place, the man would probably throw a fit.
They followed Mr. Harper inside and were directed to the bank's account manager. The insurance agent quickly explained the situation and handed over the card, the bank representative signing a statement for Stronghold indicating that the card had been returned to their possession and no funds had been stolen. With that, Mr. Harper bid them a good evening and left.
Zac bounced his leg, clutching the armrests of the chair in which he sat, itching to get out of that place, but Adrian hadn't so much as breathed in the direction of escape.
What the hells was he waiting for?
“Can I help you with anything else, Mr. Frost?” the account manager asked.
Adrian shot Zac a quick glance, then nodded and asked, “I need to know…I heard there was a trust opened by my grandfather in my name…”
“Let me see.” The manager typed rapidly at his keyboard, then gave a nod. “Yes, there is one account here in your name…” He paused, narrowing his eyes as he read something, then clicked to another screen. “It's a secured account, only accessible by you or an authorized representative…” He clicked again. “I don't see an agent of record on here for you.”
Adrian nodded slowly, still clutching the thick file between his hands. He hadn't let it go since leaving the insurance office.
“He just got kicked off his dad's policy,” Zac answered for him.
“Ah, I see.” The manager nodded. “In that case, I'd highly recommend getting your own policy as soon as possible. You are young, but you never know what might happen.”