Guarded Page 19

  I reached across the console and took his hand. “I’m sorry for... the way things happened earlier. I... thought I was doing right by you, keeping you away from all the stress, and I managed to create more. Especially if I’m calling myself a Dom, and your bodyguard for fuck’s sake, I’m supposed to keep you safe, not keep you hostage. It... God, Jordan, I can’t apologize enough.”

  His gaze shifted to the rehab center in front of us. Then to me. In a whisper so soft I almost didn’t hear it, he said, “Will you put the collar back on?”

  My heart dropped. Fluttered. Skipped. Stopped. I didn’t even know how to respond to that. “You shouldn’t wear it with anyone who makes you feel unsafe.”

  He moistened his lips. “We’re still learning how to do this. I’m a hot mess, we’re working out the bugs between us, and”—he put his other hand on top of ours—“I feel safer with you than I ever have with anyone else.”

  Relief rushed through me, and a lump tried to rise in my throat. I nodded toward the rehab center. “Go see him. When we get home—”

  “No.” He shook his head. “I want to do it now.”

  “But you’re—”

  “Please,” he whispered. “I want it. And right now, I’m not sure I can handle anything”—he tilted his head slightly in the building’s direction—“without knowing you’re there.”

  I swallowed. “I’ll be wherever you need me to be.”

  He didn’t speak, but his eyes echoed his plea.

  I brought his hands up and kissed the backs of his fingers. “I only want you to be safe and happy. You know that, right?”

  “Yes. Of course.” He took a ragged breath. “Jase, please.”

  “Get me the collar.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Jordan

  A flood of relief nearly fucking capsized me as Jase buckled the collar back on, then clicked the lock in place. For the first time since he’d taken it off, I felt grounded. Safe. “Thank you,” I whispered, my hand flying up to touch it, fingertips skimming over pebbled cow skin. My throat had felt naked without it. Vulnerable. Exposed.

  “I’m glad it helps. If it ever doesn’t…” Jase drew in a breath. “Just say the word, and I’ll take it off again.”

  “I can’t imagine ever wanting you to take it off.”

  “You’re serious?”

  “God, yes. Jase…” I leaned close, our foreheads touching. “I can count on one hand the number of people I’ve ever said ‘I love you’ to. My folks, Daniel, and you.”

  Jase smiled. “You’ve still got one finger left.”

  “Which I’ll be using to flip off anybody who tries to keep us apart.” I kissed him, my arms sliding around his neck. “This is the first time it’s ever felt real. The first time since…” I swallowed. “I’ve dreamed it might work out. I’m not giving up on us without a fight.”

  “God, Jordan…” he breathed. “I love you.”

  The first time he’d actually spoken the words. Euphoria sailed through me, same as when he had his hands around my throat, but... calmer. Happier. Moving me toward the light, instead of the other direction.

  Speaking of light, the sun had started to dip behind the hill looming over the rehab center. Which meant visiting hours would be over soon.

  “We’d better go in,” I said.

  “You go. I’ll wait here.”

  “You sure?”

  “I don’t think Daniel wants me overhearing your conversation.”

  “He didn’t have a problem with it last time.”

  Jase pressed another kiss to my forehead. “Go on in. I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

  In other words, he didn’t want to come with me. Guess I couldn’t blame him. After what’d happened with his ex, places like this were no doubt full of bad memories for him. “Okay. I’ll try not to be too long.”

  “Take your time.” Another kiss before I opened the door. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  I carried that happy, euphoric feeling with me inside, grinning like a fucking idiot at the receptionist as I gave her my name and ID. She buzzed me back immediately—not too many visitors on the patio today, for which I sent up a thousand hosannahs. Last thing I needed was more photos of me here plastered all over the fucking internet. The nurse led me back to the same living room area where I’d met Daniel before, and there he was, curled in front of the TV watching some show about NASA on the Discovery Channel.

  “Hey.” He grinned, rolling to his feet to give me a hug. “Glad you could drop by. I’ve missed you.”

  “That’s what you said on the phone.” I sank down beside him on the couch, close enough to touch even though we weren’t. Daniel flicked off the TV, which nobody else in the room objected to—well, okay, the one other guy who looked like he’d fallen asleep in his chair. Daniel, on the other hand, looked even better than last time. Eyes clear and focused, some fresh stubble, but it suited him. He’d even picked up a bit of a tan. “Getting some sun while you’re here?”

  “Not much else to do. Getting a little tired of sitting on my ass all day when I’m not in therapy sessions.” He twisted around in his seat, trying to get comfortable. Restless energy, ahoy. “But I think it’s working this time. Hope it is, at least.”

  “Me too.” He always did okay his first couple of weeks on the outside. But once the tour stretched out for months on end, that’s when he started to backslide. Maybe this time would be different. I sure as fuck wanted it to be.

  “In fact, I was kinda hoping I could get out of here next week,” he said.

  “Um, isn’t that a little early?”

  “I know, I know, but I feel good. Better than good, I’m just—” He sprang up, shoving both hands in the pockets of his gray hoodie. “I’m dying to get my hands on a guitar again, maybe help you with some new songs. I’ve got so many ideas in my head right now, it feels like... like I’m on fire, y’know?”

  On fire? My sore back reminded me of that every few seconds. I shifted, trying not to let the nubby upholstery scrape against my shirt. “They’ve never released you earlier than six weeks before.”

  “They will if my medical proxy signs me out.”

  Oh.

  Oh. So that’s what this was all about. And—fuck, I wanted to say yes. Every part of me wanted to say it. Every fiber of my being wanted nothing more than to bring him home with me tonight—

  But I couldn’t. Not if I wanted him to get well—really well—this time. “We should wait until your doctor says you’re ready.”

  “I’m ready now, Jordy. Please.”

  Jordy. God, how that reminded me of Mom and Dad and Port Arthur, back when I was a gangly kid with braces who could only play three lousy chords. “I hate that fucking nickname.”

  “You never hated it when I said it.” And, with that way too familiar shit-eating grin spreading across his lips, it hit me…

  Jase was right. Daniel had played me. Manipulated me. Twisted my love for him to his advantage. He’d wanted to come home. Wanted a break from touring, and fuck if he didn’t get me to bring the whole thing to a screeching halt just for him. Was this all our relationship had ever been to him—another fucking game?

  I had to know. Had to hear it in his own words. “Was it for real, Daniel?” I whispered.

  “Was what for real?”

  “This last OD. Was it really an overdose, or did you…” Fuck. I couldn’t bring myself to say it.

  But from Daniel’s tight expression, I didn’t have to. “You think I deliberately—”

  “Did you?”

  Silence.

  “The Jordy I’ve known since we were kids would never ask me that,” he said.

  How dare he play that card? “We’re not kids anymore,” I snapped. “Answer me.”

  He studied me for what seemed like a long time, his gaze zeroing in on Jase’s collar. I could’ve sworn I saw the gears in his brain turning. Clicking along like a computer. “He sent you in here to talk to me, didn’t he?”

 
“Who, Jase?” A chill prickled at the back of my skull. “He drove me here. That’s all.”

  “The fuck it is. You think I don’t know what that thing around your neck means? He controls you now, and you fucking love it.”

  “And that’s none of your goddamn business.”

  “Hey, I didn’t give a shit when it was just you and him getting your perverted rocks off, but you went and let him into your head. He doesn’t care about you, y’know. He’s just in it for the big payoff, like those other two guys.”

  That chill seeped under my skin, invaded my bones. “I didn’t give either of them a fucking dime.”

  “Martin did. And believe me, they were only too happy to take the money and go. I was there, both times.”

  The ice inside me morphed into cold anger. I stood, shaking. “You told Martin to call me about getting the band back out on the road, didn’t you? You knew I’d never go without you.”

  His shrug was the only answer I needed. So, now he knew that I knew, and he didn’t fucking care. Had he ever?

  “You know what,” I said, heading for the door, “You can fucking rot in here for all I care.”

  He didn’t come after me. Didn’t grab my sleeve and swear I had it all wrong and beg me not to go, not that I’d expected him to. I started walking faster and faster, breaking into a run once I cleared the front door. Never wanted to get out of a building so bad in my life.

  Jase looked up from his phone as I dropped into the passenger’s seat, deep creases popping between his eyes. “What’s the matter?”

  Christ, I was still shaking. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Jase

  Jordan was a wreck, and it scared the hell out of me.

  “What’s—”

  “Please,” he whispered. “Can we just go? I need to get away from…” He gestured sharply at the building.

  Oh God. Maybe I should’ve gone in with him.

  Whatever the case, I put the car in drive—I’d kept it idling so I could listen to the radio and have some A/C—and left the rehab center. I drove a mile or so, and then pulled into a parking lot in front of a Safeway. It wasn’t too crowded at the moment—more empty shopping carts than parked cars—so I wasn’t too worried about someone seeing him. Just to be on the safe side, I went to the far end of the lot and found a space in a deserted aisle.

  “What are we doing here?” Jordan asked.

  “We won’t be here long.” I faced him, and when I put my hand on his leg, he just about jumped out of his skin. “What the hell happened in there?”

  Jordan wrung his hands and stared out the windshield. “You were right about him. About Daniel. He’s… he was playing me.”

  “He’s an addict,” I said softly, running my thumb along the seam on his shorts. “That’s… that’s just kind of the way they function.”

  Shaking his head, he whispered, “I feel like an idiot.”

  “Don’t. I fell for it too.”

  He looked at me, eyes wide and lost. “Your ex?”

  I nodded. “Addicts, they… they learn to manipulate to get what they need. I always had to tell myself when he started in on that, it wasn’t Eric talking, it was Eric the addict. And what you heard in there? It’s Daniel the addict.”

  “Yeah, but where does one stop and the other start?”

  “That’s the problem.” I sighed, squeezing his leg gently. “It’s almost impossible to tell.”

  “Then what difference does it make?” he growled. He swallowed hard, looking out the windshield again. “If the only one talking is the addict, then the other one’s gone anyway.”

  “Not gone, just really, really sick.” I took his hand. “I’m not defending him, Jordan. I don’t want you giving in and falling for his crap.”

  He kept his gaze fixed on something else. “Then what are you saying?”

  “I’m saying he needs some serious tough love,” I whispered. “And it’s okay for you to back away for your own protection. I just wanted you to know it’s the addiction talking.”

  Jordan winced as if the words had physically hurt. “So what do I do? Cut him off? Kick him out? Keep helping him?”

  “I don’t know. I really don’t.” I brought his hand up and pressed a soft kiss on the backs of his fingers. “There’s never an easy answer when you’re trying to be there for an addict and protect yourself at the same time.”

  Jordan released a heavy breath and rubbed a hand over his face. His shoulders slumped under his loose-fitting T-shirt. Onstage, he was ten feet tall and bulletproof. Out here, in a supermarket parking lot after a visit to the man he wanted more than anything to save, he was so weak and small and vulnerable, it broke my heart.

  “We should get out of here.” I tucked a few strands of hair behind his ear. “Where do you want to go?”

  With what must’ve been a hell of an effort, Jordan held my gaze. “Wherever I can be on my knees.”

  Jesus. Fuck.

  “Are you sure?”

  Jordan swallowed. “Please.”

  I couldn’t imagine he was in any mood for sex, but in his shoes, I’d want that escape too. Checking out of the real world and flying for a little while.

  I put the car in reverse, and Jordan exhaled beside me. He didn’t say much after that. Not a word, in fact. He leaned back against the seat and stared out the window while I drove. I debated which way to go—back to his place, back to mine—and ultimately settled on my apartment. Though we’d fought there this morning, and he’d wanted to get the hell out, we’d resolved most of that—I hoped—and for that matter, there was too much of Daniel at Jordan’s place. Shit, maybe I needed to take him to a hotel somewhere. Someplace neutral without so goddamned many ghosts.

  When I got on the freeway heading toward my place, though, he didn’t object. As I turned down my street, he let go of another long breath.

  I parked in my usual spot beneath my apartment. How weird—it felt like we’d just left, and yet Jordan looked like he’d been through the wringer. I’d have bet money the only reason he hadn’t fallen asleep in the passenger seat was because we’d both slept so late today.

  We went inside. I closed the front door and turned the deadbolt. As I faced him, I said, “How you holding up?”

  Jordan half-shrugged. “I don’t know. One minute I want to put all of Daniel’s stuff into storage and tell him he’s on his own. The next, I…” He sighed and waved a hand. “I don’t know.”

  “It’s rough,” I said softly, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “And if you’re frustrated because you can’t figure out the answer, it’s not just you.” I kissed his cheek. “Nobody in that situation knows exactly what to do.”

  He leaned against me, putting his arm around my waist. “He’s pissing me off, but I don’t want anything to happen to him either.” With a dry laugh, he added, “Even if I kind of want to kill him myself right now.”

  “I know that feeling, believe me.”

  Jordan rested his head against my shoulder. “What do you think I should do?”

  “Help him as much as you can, but protect yourself too.”

  “That’s kind of like cutting my wrists without drawing blood, you know? One sort of negates the other.”

  “Believe me, I know. And I also I know damn well you’re not going to give up on him, no matter what.” I lifted his chin so we could see each other, and ran the pad of my thumb over his pronounced cheekbone. “I just want you to know I’m here. Things aren’t going to magically get easy with him, but when they get rough…”

  Jordan closed his eyes, pressing his face against my palm. “Thank you.” He covered his hand with mine, keeping it against his stubbled jaw. “And I know it’s not going to fix anything, but I need to get away from everything for a little while.” His eyes met mine. “As far away as I can.”

  I moistened my lips. “Subspace?”

  Jordan shivered, and nodded slowly.

  My chest tightened, and I brought u
p my other hand to smooth his hair. “Before we do anything, I need to know for sure.” I held his gaze and took a breath. “After earlier, I just… I have to—”

  “I trust you.” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple pressing against the collar. “With my life.”

  I pulled him into my arms. “I’ll never break that trust.”

  “I know.” He held me tight. “I know you won’t.”

  Stroking his hair, I closed my eyes and just held him. “I’m going to take you there. I promise. But I want to make sure we’re completely back on the same wavelength first.”

  Jordan drew back enough to look in my eyes. “How?”

  I slid my hand up the back of his neck and into his hair, and he closed his eyes and shivered a second before I grabbed on and pulled back. “Questioning me?”

  “N-no.” He swept his tongue across his lips. “Just trying”—he moaned softly when I tightened my grasp—“to understand.”

  “You trust me, yes?”

  He tried to nod, but my grip on his hair wouldn’t let him. “Yeah. I do.”

  “Then do what I tell you to.”

  “’kay.”

  “Good.” I loosened my grasp. “Go in the bedroom and get undressed.”

  Jordan bit his lip, and when I released his hair, he turned and headed straight for my bedroom. I followed, pulling off my T-shirt as I walked.

  In the bedroom, he took off his shirt, and my mouth watered at the sight of the purple marks on his back. They brought back all the memories of him in subspace, of his cries of pain and pleas for more before he was finally overwhelmed into near silence, the way he’d eagerly obeyed every command I’d given him. Though I couldn’t imagine him being aroused after the roller coaster of an afternoon he’d had, I understood the need for that space. The need to be put into that place where everything was okay for a little while, and the only pain was the kind he loved.

  And my God, I ached to put him there. To give him what he needed, and to have him the way I wanted him.

  But… not yet. As I watched him strip, sliding his shorts over those narrow hips, I told myself over and over that it wasn’t the right them yet. Soon, but not yet. The ground beneath our feet was still just a little too uneven.