by Ruby Moone
“I could…”
“Michael, no. There’s no way I’m letting you get any more involved.”
Michael shut up. He didn’t want to argue.
Late afternoon, they walked into the city with the money for Bryce in a bag stashed in the inside pocket of Michael’s jacket. His hands were in his outer pockets, his head bent low against the biting wind that had sprung up. He couldn’t quite believe they were doing this.
“What time to you need to be at the club tonight?” he asked Jack.
Jack glanced sideways at him. He wore no hat and his hair whipped about. “I don’t need to be there until ten.”
Michael nodded. “We’ll do this, then get something to eat. You told him you want something in writing?”
Jack nodded, but grimaced. “I did, but don’t get your hopes up. He’s not likely to do it.”
Michael’s gut tightened. He wasn’t happy about this at all. Just handing over ten thousand pounds with no way of knowing if that would be the end of it was risky. More than risky. Probably stupid, but he didn’t know what else to do. He couldn’t risk Jack in this. Wouldn’t risk him.
“Did Christian get back to you? Did he speak to McCafferty?”
Michael shook his head. “I can’t get through to him, but it doesn’t matter. We just need to hand over the cash and have done with it. The debt is paid and that’s that.” Michael’s head was thumping. More than anything he wanted Jack out of Bryce’s clutches so that they could focus on whatever it was that was growing between them. He’d never felt anything approaching what he felt for Jack in his entire life. Just being with him made him feel… Well, he didn’t really have words, but it was everything. At that moment, he would do anything to keep him safe, and to keep what was growing between them alive.
They walked, and Jack brushed his arm against Michael’s. “I want you to keep in the background while I give him the money. I don’t want you implicated in this in any way at all.”
“I’m not letting you out of my sight.” Michael gave him a long hard look. No way was he going to leave him alone. No way at all. He was feeling more jittery and anxious with every damned step.
Jack scowled. “Michael. I can look after myself. I’ve got this far.”
“Yes, and look at the mess you’re in.” The words were out of his mouth before he thought. The shocked hurt in Jack’s eyes stung. “I’m sorry…I…”
“Never mind.” Jack buried his hands in his pockets and walked looking straight ahead.
Michael felt like a complete bastard but wasn’t sure what to say to put it right. They walked in silence until Michael thought of something suitably inane to say.
“So, you’re meeting him at Albert Square, by the markets?”
Jack’s gaze remained forward. “Yep. You know, if you’ve changed your mind about doing this it’s fine. My wage will have gone in the bank by now. I can…”
Michael took a gentle hold of Jack’s arm. “Stop it. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m worried. I get shitty when I’m worried. I always say the wrong thing, but when I’m worried it’s…worse.”
Jack halted. The wind buffeted them both. “I’m sorry too. Sorry I dragged you into this mess. I should have left you out of it.”
“You didn’t drag me. I offered. Jack, look at me.”
He looked. The sadness there hurt Michael. He wanted to kiss him, but he didn’t. “It’s fine. It’s all going to be fine. I promise you. I won’t be far away. Give him the money, then let’s get out of here.”
It was dark when they arrived at Albert Square and it was filled with Christmas shoppers frantically searching for last minute gifts before the shops closed. The smell of cooking hot dogs, spiced wine, and gingerbread permeated the air, and a loud brass band launched forth into a rousing rendition of Jingle Bells. Lights from the stalls cast a golden glow over the square, and the massive, gothic town hall loomed darkly over the entire proceedings.
Jack stopped by the cheese stall. “Stay here. I’m meeting him by the entrance, just over there.” He pointed to where a figure stood. It was well lit, and busy.
Michael nodded. He took the packet from his pocket and gave it to Jack. “Come straight back. I’ll be here.”
Jack took it, turned it over in his hands. He hesitated and then leaned over and kissed Michael on the cheek. “Thank you.”
Michael watched as he walked over to Bryce. Watched as Jack handed the parcel to Bryce. There seemed to be some kind of exchange between them, and then Bryce walked off in the opposite direction, quickly swallowed up by the darkness. Jack walked back towards the market stalls. Head down, hands in pockets.
With Bryce out of sight, Michael walked towards Jack.
“What did he say?”
“Nothing.”
“It didn’t look like nothing.”
Jack closed his eyes as though he was seeking strength. “He wouldn’t give me anything to say I’d paid it.” He shook his head. “Bastard.”
“Look, it doesn’t matter.”
Jack scowled. “Of course it bloody matters. He’s got ten grand of your money. I shouldn’t have given it to him.”
“Yes, you should.” Michael gripped his arm and Jack looked at him. “You should. It’s done now. It’s all over.” Michael squeezed his arm and then patted it awkwardly.
“Come on, let’s eat.”
Jack was still stinging from Michael’s comments, and feeling guilty that he’d not pressed Bryce more for some sort of receipt, when they went into the packed tapas restaurant just off Deansgate. It was true, he had got himself into a mess, but he’d done his damnedest to get out of it. The only difference now was instead of owing McCafferty the money, he owed Michael.
They handed over coats and scarves to the waiter who showed them to a table. It occurred to him that Michael had booked it, no way would they have just dropped in, not at this time of year. They sat, and for the first time in Michael’s company, he felt bad.
“How about a smile. It’s all done now,” Michael said, trying to catch his gaze, voice gentle.
Jack looked at him. He was so fucking gorgeous. So fucking good. He’d given him a home, come out to his parents for him, loaned him ten grand, got him away from McCafferty and saved him from Bryce…
“Jack, I’m sorry for what I said. Please…”
“It’s not that.” Jack shook his head. “You’re right. I have made a mess of my life.” He twitched a shoulder in a shrug. “I’m just sorry I dragged you into it.”
“Well, I’m not.” Michael looked fierce. “You’ve not made a mess. I’m a complete idiot for saying that. You are incredible. I think you’re…incredible. You changed my life completely and I wouldn’t swap what we have for anything.”
His words touched Jack’s heart. The place that told him he wasn’t good enough for Michael.
“You changed mine completely too.” He felt tears sting the back of his throat and nose. “Thank you. I wouldn’t swap what we have either.” He swallowed and looked up at Michael. “Do… do we have a … a …something between us?” He hated how needy that sounded, but he had to know.
Michael gripped his hand over the table. “We do. A big something.”
Jack nodded. He couldn’t speak. Had the weirdest urge to tell Michael he loved him.
Michael gave his fingers a squeeze and then let go. “Come on. Let’s order.”
They ordered far too much food and ate their way through it, accompanied by a bottle of wine. The restaurant was too full, and too loud, but Jack enjoyed just sitting and eating with Michael.
Michael dabbed at his mouth with his napkin. “Is your shopping all done?”
Jack smiled. “I didn’t have much to do. How about you?”
“Done. I didn’t have a lot to buy either.”
Jack chased a prawn around the small earthenware dish then popped it in his mouth, loving the chilli and tomato that burst on his tongue. “Will you help me work out my finances? I need to look at how much r
enting somewhere will be, how much to repay you, bills… All the usual stuff.” He still couldn’t quite believe his ordeal was over. That he could go back to being a normal person with a normal life, doing a normal job. His life wasn’t completely normal any more though, not with Michael in it.
Michael nodded. “Sure. You can look at whether or not you need two jobs. You might not need the extra money.”
“Depends on how much the rent is on this flat you mentioned. It’s not cheap living in the city.”
Michael hesitated and fiddled with his napkin. “You could always just stay with me.”
Jack’s heart thumped. Was he asking him to live with him? They hadn’t been together long, wasn’t that too soon? The prospect of living with Michael made him warm all over, but really? He couldn’t meet his eyes. If he did, he’d give the whole game away. Michael had given him so much, he couldn’t keep taking.
“Probably a bit soon. But if I did, I’d pay you rent.”
Michael shrugged, but it looked more like he flinched. “No need. Apartment’s paid for.”
“Bills then.”
“You could share the bills.”
“What would people think?”
Michael shook his head. “No idea, and I don’t much care. Sorry. I’m being pushy. Of course you want your own place after everything you’ve been through.” He gave him a bright smile. “Let’s go home and you can get ready for work.”
They got up and left. Michael paid the bill and Jack wondered if he should offer to split it. He sighed.
They walked back to the flat. It wasn’t far and getting a cab would be a nightmare. They strode out, hands in pockets, Jack wishing he could hold Michael’s hand.
He looked at Michael’s profile. “Thank you,” he said. It dawned on him that in amongst all the tension, he hadn’t actually thanked him.
Michael looked at him, and something in his face softened. “You’re welcome.”
Michael threw his keys in the dish and pulled off his coat. He’d dropped Jack off at the club and arranged to go back around midnight. He wouldn’t be finished, but Michael could get a drink and just be there. Maybe soak up some of the festive spirit. They seemed to have recovered the warmth between them after his damned thoughtless comment, but he’d nearly ruined it again by rattling on about them living together. Jack was right, it was too soon, but he couldn’t shake the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach at the thought of Jack not being in his home. He’d spent a lifetime on his own, preferring it that way, but now…? He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Just having someone else in the flat, someone to eat with, laugh with, make love with was wonderful. But it wasn’t just anyone, it was Jack. There had been days after Alex that he’d wondered if he’d ever trust anyone enough to let them close. Well, now he had the answer. All it had taken was the right person. Jack.
He grabbed his laptop and sat on the sofa. He had a pile of work to catch up on. Usually, he worked evenings, but since Jack had moved in that had all stopped. He had a backlog he needed to get clear, so they could have some time together over the Christmas break. The screen flickered to life, but he paused with his fingers on the keyboard. He wanted to give Jack the most perfect Christmas ever, but he didn’t really know how. His idea of a perfect Christmas would be spending it in bed with Jack, asking Jack to move in with him, something nice to eat, then spending the evening in bed with him. He smiled to himself. He was nothing if not obsessive. Jack, on the other hand, wanted trees and songs, mince pies and fun. He’d probably like a party. It was a sobering thought when Michael realised he didn’t really know enough people to invite to a party.
He shook his head and pulled up his latest project. Maybe a small gathering would do. Jack must have friends, although he’d never really mentioned any.
He quickly scanned his notes, pushed the idea of partying from his mind, and before long, he was buried in his latest project. He remained focused until his phone rang at around eleven and jerked him back to reality.
“Hey,” he said, pressing the speaker button and putting it on the cushion beside him while he saved the document he was on.
Christian’s voice came out of the phone into the lounge. “Hey yourself. How’s it going?”
“Good. You?”
“Good. You in?”
“I’m at home. Where are you?”
“Be with you in a minute.” The line went dead. Michael frowned and, closing his programme, shut the laptop. Sure enough, moments later the buzzer sounded. Michael pressed it to let Christian up. At the sharp rap on the door, he let him in.
He came through the door, the cold of the outdoors clinging to him. They exchanged a brief hug, then Christian dispensed with his coat.
“To what do I owe the honour?” Michael headed towards the kitchen. “Drink?”
“Coffee. I’m driving.”
Michael headed for the coffee machine. Christian loomed over him. He was a good few inches taller, muscled, and moved with a grace that Michael could only envy. He was silent while Michael made the coffee. When it was done, he handed him a mug.
Christian was one of the most handsome men he knew. Tall, fair haired, usually with a couple of days’ growth, but his eyes were probably his most striking feature. They were a strange, hypnotic blueish colour. Bits of grey and violet all mixed together. Those unusual eyes were watching him carefully, and he had a deep sense of foreboding. His heart picked up as they headed back to the lounge and sat each on one side of the long sofa.
“Spit it out.” Michael put his mug on the coffee table and waited.
Christian took a drink, put his mug down, and ran a hand over his fair hair. “I spoke to Daniel.”
“And?”
His eyes gentled with something that looked awfully like sympathy. Michael’s heart hammered in his chest.
Christian looked him straight in the eye. “There is no debt.”
“What?”
“There is no debt. Nathan Fisher did owe money, but it was nothing like ten grand, and the debt died with him. Daniel never asked for the money from your man.”
The words hung between.
Michael stood up and paced. Heart pounding so fast he was shaking. “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course there is. Why would he be paying the money back? Why would he be living rough in the middle of winter?” What in God’s name was he talking about.
Christian stood carefully and walked over to him. “Mikey, Jack doesn’t owe Daniel any money. I don’t think he owes money to anyone. It…it sounds like some sort of scam.” He put a hand on Michael’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
Michael’s legs almost gave way. He slumped back onto the sofa.
A scam.
Jack was involved in a scam?
Christian sat with him. “Let’s talk to him before you do anything, or hand over any money. Let’s work out what’s going on. There might be an explanation.”
Michael’s head was spinning. “Too late. Already paid it.”
“What?” Christian’s tone was sharp. “I said not to give it to him before I got back to you.”
“Well, I tried phoning, but you never answered. I just went ahead. I needed to get it done. I needed him safe.”
“Oh, Mikey.”
“Stop talking to me like that.” Michael clutched at his head.
“Like what?”
“Like I’m some sort of…of child, or…or idiot.” Michael’s head was racing along with his heart. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be that the last few days had been make-believe. No-one was that good. No-one. He felt sick. His stomach churned as his hands trembled. It was not true. It couldn’t be true.
“You’re not an idiot. Just too trusting.”
Too trusting. The only two relationships he’d had in his life, and on both occasions, he’d been the target of some sort of scam? First Alex had tried to steal his work and sell it as his own, now Jack had swindled him out of ten thousand pounds? The ridiculous thing was, he didn’t need to scam him. He
’d have given him the money if he’d asked. As a gift. Anything to keep him in his life.
Was that pathetic?
Probably.
It was hard to breathe.
Did that mean he wouldn’t be coming home? Was that it? Never see him again? Never hold him again? Never kiss him again? He pressed his hand against his eyes. Hard.
“Don’t. Mikey…” Christian took hold of his arm, but Michael shook him off.
He heard Christian’s soft sigh. “Where is he now?”
“Working. Dooley’s. The bar just off Canal Street.”
“Maybe we should go and talk to him. Maybe he can explain?”
Michael hesitated, then nodded. That was it. Talk to him. Find out what was going on. There would be an explanation. He was sure of it. There had to be. There had to be.
“Yes. Yes, you’re right. There will be an explanation. I’m certain. He wouldn’t do this. He wouldn’t.”
Michael grabbed his keys and his coat, and they headed out of the door. As they walked, Michael felt a cautious sense of confidence grow. There was a mistake. Jack would never betray him. He was sure of it. There was something going on, but Jack wasn’t a con artist. He wasn’t a scammer. He was good man. His breathing eased up as they got into the lift. He just needed to trust him. Trust him. Trust Jack.
“We might be better walking?” Michael said as Christian pressed the button and the doors closed. “Might be hard to park?”
Christian shook his head. “Let’s take the car. Quicker. I’ll let you out and then cruise till I find somewhere.”
Michael nodded and followed. The faster they got there, the faster they could clear everything up. He needed to see him. Just needed to see him. Hold him. Breathe in the scent of him.
Christian pulled up by the club and the whole area was heaving. As he’d suspected, there was nowhere to park, so Christian pulled up to the kerb and let the engine idle.
Michael jumped out and headed for the door. He wasn’t exactly dressed for clubbing on Christmas Eve, but he knew Jed the doorman now, and he let him through. He fought his way to the bar through the heaving bodies, swaying and jumping to the pulsating beat, lights swirling in time, and tried frantically to get a glimpse of Jack through the flashing lights, but he couldn’t see him.