Chapter 2

The alcohol sank deeper into Daniel’s body with each minute that passed, softening the sharp points of his thoughts but never quite making them disappear. Everything just became fuzzy, like looking through a window that was dirty. Nothing was clear, but it was all still there.

His fingers wrapped loosely around the glass in front of him. The cold felt a little bit on his skin. He couldn’t remember how many drinks he’d had. It didn’t matter. The burning in his throat felt normal now, almost nice because it was always the same.

It was easier to think about that than the ache in his chest.

The sounds of voices around him went up and down, blending into a soft noise that felt far away, like it was happening in another room. Laughter came out in sudden bursts. Glasses hit against glasses. Chairs scraped a little on the floor.

Life was still moving. But his life wasn’t.

Daniel let out a quiet breath, his head dropping a little as he stared at the drink in front of him. The liquid moved when he shifted it, catching the dim light of the bar in a way that almost looked pretty.

His thoughts started to wander again, unsteady and mean.

Three years.

He kept thinking about that.

Three years of trying hard, of trusting, of building something he truly believed in – and it was over like it meant nothing. Like he meant nothing.

A weak laugh escaped his lips, so quiet he could barely hear it himself. “That’s… funny,” he whispered, but there was no humor in it.

He picked up the glass again, drinking the rest in one go. It burned less this time. Or maybe he just didn’t care anymore.

“Another one?” the bartender asked, already reaching for the bottle.

Daniel nodded without looking up.

It was easier that way.

He didn’t notice when the bar door opened again.

He didn’t notice the small change that happened after that.

But he felt it.

Not like he could explain it, or like he knew what it was, but something in the air of the bar changed. The noise dropped a little, and conversations became quieter, making a strange, almost respectful space.

That kind of change only happens when someone important walks in.

Daniel didn’t lift his head though.

He didn’t care enough to.

Across the room, though, Tim Black noticed everything.

The moment he stepped inside, his presence filled the bar like something that couldn’t be stopped. He didn’t need to announce himself. He didn’t need to look around.

People already knew him.

Those who knew him lowered their voices, their eyes quickly looking at him before looking away fast. Those who didn’t know him still felt it – the quiet power he had, strong and unsaid.

Tim walked forward slowly, his face calm, unreadable. His men followed him closely, their eyes sharp, looking around the room without really needing to.

This place wasn’t where he usually went.

But that didn’t mean it wasn’t his to control.

His eyes moved once, quickly, taking in the room, the ways out, the people –

And then they stopped.

On Daniel.

There was no real reason for his eyes to stay there.

No clear explanation for why his attention was fixed on a stranger sitting alone at the bar, his shoulders down, his fingers wrapped around a glass like it was the only thing holding him up.

But his eyes did stay.

Tim watched him for a moment longer than he should have.

Then even longer than that.

There was something about Daniel that stood out – not in a loud or obvious way, but in something quieter, more disturbing. He didn’t seem like he belonged there. It showed in how he sat, how he moved, how his feelings seemed to be on the surface.

Unprotected and open.

Tim frowned a little, but it was so small that no one else would have seen it.

He should have looked away and continued with his night but he didn't.

Instead, he kept watching.

And that’s when he noticed them.

A group of men not far from Daniel, their attention slowly moving in the same direction. Their interest wasn’t hidden – not to someone like Tim. It was the kind of attention that stayed too long, that came with quiet thinking behind lazy smiles.

Like predators.

Tim’s eyes became a little sharper.

He didn’t like it.

He didn’t like the way they looked at Daniel. He didn’t like how Daniel stayed unaware, too lost in whatever was bothering him to notice the danger getting closer.

For a short time, Tim told himself it wasn’t his problem.

People made their own choices.

If someone chose to sit alone, looking weak, in a place like this, then they accepted the risks that came with it.

But that thought didn’t feel right for him this time.

One of the men stood up, his movements casual as he walked toward Daniel. The others followed slowly, spreading out just enough not to draw attention while still getting closer.

Tim’s jaw tightened almost without him knowing.

Feeling like something was his wasn’t something he felt often.

But it was there.

Without looking away, he made a small movement with his hand.

And his men moved right away.

Daniel barely noticed the movement beside him until someone slid into the empty seat next to him. The movement was too close, too fast, and it pulled him a little out of the fog he had sunk into.

“Hey,” the man said, his voice smooth. “You look like you could use some company.”

Daniel blinked slowly, turning his head just enough to look at him. The man’s face was a little blurry around the edges, but his smile was clear. “I’m… fine,” Daniel muttered, his words slurring just enough to show how much he had drunk.

“Doesn’t look like it,” another voice said from his other side.

Daniel’s shoulders tensed a little.

He hadn’t noticed them getting that close.

“I said I’m fine,” he repeated, trying to sound stronger, but it didn’t come out the way he wanted.

“Come on,” the first man said, leaning in a bit. “No need to be like that. We’re just trying to help.”

Help.

The word felt wrong.

Daniel shifted uncomfortably, his hand squeezing his glass a little tighter. “I don’t need—”

He didn’t finish his sentence. Not because he stopped himself, but because the man next to him was suddenly gone.

He was pulled away with a force so quick and controlled that it barely caused a stir.

Daniel blinked, confusion flashing across his face as he turned slightly, trying to understand what had just happened. The others were gone too – or being led away with quiet skill by men he hadn’t even noticed before.

The space around him cleared almost instantly, as nothing had happened at all.

Daniel looked for a moment, his thoughts moving too slowly to understand.

And then someone else sat in the empty seat next to him.

Tim Black sat there as he had always been in that spot, his body relaxed, his face calm. Closer up, there was something about him that felt… more. Not heavy like he weighed a lot, but like the air around him felt thicker.

“Are you okay?” Tim asked.

But it didn’t feel like just a simple question. It felt like he was asking for more, like he was trying to figure things out. Like he wasn’t just asking, he was looking closely.

Daniel opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out at first. His throat felt tight, and the feelings he had tried to make go away suddenly came back up. “I…” he began, then stopped. His eyes got blurry again, but this time it wasn’t from the drinks. “I’m fine,” he tried again, but the words sounded empty even to him.

Tim looked at him for a moment, his eyes steady and not looking away.

“No,” he said softly. “You’re not.”

And the way he said it like he was so sure. He was so calm that it broke the little bit of control Daniel still had. A shaky breath left him, then another. His shoulders shook a little, and his hand held the glass tighter, like he needed something to hold onto.

“I just…” His voice broke, and he swallowed hard, trying to make it steady. “I just needed a drink.”

“That many?” Tim asked, looking quickly at the empty glasses in front of Daniel.

Daniel let out a weak laugh that wasn’t funny. “Probably not,” he said.

It was quiet between them for a moment, and that’s what made Daniel almost fall apart.

“They…” he started, waving his hand a little toward where the other men had been. “They were just…”

“They won’t bother you again,” Tim said simply.

Daniel blinked, looking at him properly this time.

“Oh,” Daniel said softly. “Okay.”

Another pause.

Then Tim spoke again. “You shouldn’t stay here.”

Daniel frowned a little, his thoughts moving slowly. “Why not?”

Tim kept looking at him. “Because you’re not in a state to take care of yourself.”

Those words should have made him angry.

But they didn’t.

They felt… true.

Daniel looked away, his shoulders dropping a little. “I don’t really have anywhere else to go right now,” he said quietly.

Tim didn’t answer right away.

When he did, his voice was calm, but strong. “Come with me.”

Daniel’s head shot up a little, confusion flashing on his face. “What?”

“I’ll take you somewhere safe,” Tim said. “You can rest there and think clearly.”

Daniel waited, his instincts still there but weak. “I don’t even know you.”

“No,” Tim agreed. “You don’t have to.” He felt… solid.

And Daniel needed that more than he wanted to admit.

“Okay,” he said finally, the word coming out before he could think too much about it.

Tim stood up first, his movements smooth and controlled. Daniel followed more slowly, not steady on his feet. For a short moment, he wobbled but a hand steadied him.

Moving from the bar to the outside felt strange. The cool night air hit Daniel’s face, clearing his mind just enough to make everything feel sharper and more distant at the same time.

A car waited nearby.

Daniel didn’t question it.

He let himself be helped inside, sinking into the seat with a quiet breath. The door closed, shutting out the noise of the city, leaving behind a quiet, controlled space.

Tim sat next to him and the car began to move.

Neither of them spoke for a while.

Daniel leaned his head back a little, his eyes half-closed as he looked out the window. The city lights blurred together, making soft, unclear shapes on the glass.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Tim said after a while, his voice low. “But something happened.”

Daniel let out a slow breath.

“It’s silly,” he whispered.

“It didn’t feel silly to you,” Tim muttered.

Words came easier after that. Daniel spoke about being hurt, about what he had seen, about how it felt when something he trusted completely fell apart in front of him.

He didn’t say everything but he said enough.

Tim listened without interrupting him as the car drove to the most luxurious hotel in the city.

By the time the car stopped, Daniel’s voice had gotten quieter, softer, the weight of his words filling the space between them.

The hotel room was warm when they went inside, the lights soft, the feeling calm in a way that felt almost unreal after everything that had happened.

Daniel stood there for a moment, not sure what to do.

Then Tim spoke again. “You can stay here tonight.”

Daniel nodded slowly. “Thank you,” he said, his voice barely a whisper.