The Brothers Grime: Grime and Punishment by Z. A. Maxfield

Author:Z. A. Maxfield [Maxfield, Z. A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: LGBT; Mystery & Suspense
Publisher: Loose Id LLC
Published: 2013-04-30T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Jack’s first thought was Ryan wore a suit really, really well. The black, slim-cut designer deal he’d brought with him seemed engineered for his broad shoulders, trim waist, and long legs. By comparison, Jack’s “funeral suit” fit him tolerably but did nothing for him. Where Ryan wore a silky black hand-tailored shirt with French cuffs, Jack wore a new white shirt from a discount store that still had the creases in it from the manufacturer. Ryan’s subtly patterned black tie was silk, where Jack’s navy and red came from a thrift shop.

Despite the differences between them, Ryan’s eyes gleamed with genuine appreciation when he looked at Jack. They held a warmth Jack could feel inside his gut and deep within his bones.

Before they left the house, Jack filled Tasha’s bowls with food and water. He switched out his everyday cane for the fancy one Gabe had given him for Christmas. He didn’t fill the flask concealed inside because it only held a swallow of alcohol, and Jack was pretty sure he’d need more than that. Instead, he got his dad’s old silver flask down from the kitchen cupboard and filled it with bourbon, slipping it into his coat pocket as insurance against imminent emotional disaster.

Ryan rested his hand at the small of Jack’s back while Jack locked the door behind them. Ryan put his shades on like a movie star and then escorted Jack down the walk as if they were heading for prom. He was careful and solicitous enough to make Jack grind his teeth.

“You don’t have to hover. I won’t fall or anything.”

“I like touching you.” Ryan frowned at him. “I’ll stop if you don’t like it.”

“It’s not that I don’t like it.” Jack examined how he felt about having Ryan’s hand on him. It was nice. It was supportive. It bolstered his sense of well-being as they headed for an event he was dreading. He couldn’t come up with a single reason to stop him—in fact he had a hundred reasons why he wanted it to continue. “Actually, I’m just not used to it.”

“Why aren’t you?”

Jack didn’t have an answer for that.

Instead of heading for Jack’s truck, Ryan led him to a sleek black hybrid. He opened the passenger door and then walked around to the driver’s side to get in.

The car smelled new, and Ryan obviously kept it immaculate. As they pulled away from the curb, Ryan’s garnet cuff link winked like a red eye, peering from beneath his neatly tailored coat sleeve. Jack tried brushing Tasha’s cat hairs off the sleeve of his coat. When that proved impossible, he gripped the head of his cane nervously with both hands.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.”

“Not nothing.” Ryan glanced over at him. “You’re fussing.”

“I can fuss if I want to.” He got out his flask and took a sip. It burned going down but warmed the tightness from his chest almost immediately.

“Whoa, open container. Put that away.”

“I’m sorry.” Jack slipped the flask back into his pocket.

“Are you really that

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