Jackson flipped the switch on the bedside box as they left the room. “Come back in an hour with some lavender tea,” Jackson spoke clearly as soon as they stepped out into the hallway.
“Yes, sir.” Kia blew him a kiss and laughed as she left.
“Follow me.”
Barely in his peripheral, Wren kept pace with him. Down the hallway, up another staircase. They stopped in front of a set of intricately carved double oak doors. Jackson ran a finger over the nose of a carving of a wolf and steeled himself before knocking.
“Come in.”
Jackson straightened up and opened the door. “Dad.”
His dad was sitting behind his desk, bent over some paperwork. His glasses rested on the end of his nose. His dark hair was starting to gray around the edges. A shadow of stubble told Jackson enough about what kind of day he’d had, and he straightened his spine further.
With a heavy sigh, his dad took off his glasses and set them on top of the papers he’d been reading. He covered his eyes with his hand as he rubbed his temple. “You have single-handedly caused every single one of these gray hairs. Care to explain to me why I received two phone calls this evening? One from a very happy market owner and one from a very pissed off Louis Warrick.”
Louis Warrick. He recognized the name, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen the man before earlier at the auction. “Yep -”
His dad looked up with a glare.
“Yes,” Jackson corrected himself. “I asked about the four wolves in the unmarked cage and what they were. The response I received was that I wouldn’t be able to afford them and I should keep looking.”
“So naturally you had to purchase one of them.”
“No, sir. I was just proving a point by pulling up their profiles. I saw wolf C36M657 had a second speciality in personal and was undefeated after 24 years of fighting.” His dad nodded, none of this information was new to him. “Your instructions were to ‘buy a wolf worthy of being beside me.’ There were no other wolves there who could have held a candle to what this one has.”
“Yes, it’s a very impressive record, but how do you think the college is going to like having a 32 year old wolf in their dorms?”
“There are no age requirements. The only requirement was gender and a specialty in personal.” Jackson had scanned those requirements more times than he could count in hopes of finding a loophole.
“Jackson,” his dad sighed. “You spent 20 million dollars to prove a point to an ally of ours.” An ally of his dads. Any ally of his dad was an enemy to him.
“You probably could have donated half of that to the school and they would have looked the other way when I brought Kia to the dorms.”
His dad’s glare intensified, but Jackson was mostly immune to it after 18 years of being the receiving end of it. “If you expect me to honor our agreement, then you better stop these fucking games.”
That wiped the smile off his face. “It didn’t start as a game. I was just looking for one I wouldn’t mind having with me, then everything happened and at that point I couldn’t change my mind without looking weak, which I knew you wouldn’t want me doing. I’ll keep to the spirit of the agreement from here on.”
“See that you do.” His dad leaned back. His gaze focused over Jackson’s shoulder on Wren.. “We could run him in a couple fights and get some of that money back. I heard he always drew a big crowd.”
“No.” Jackson spoke too soon. The words hadn’t even finished leaving his dad’s mouth. His dad raised his eyebrows at him. “Mom would never forgive us.”
“Your mom is dead. Whether or not she approves is no longer something we worry about.”
No. It’s no longer something his dad worried about. Jackson worried about it all the time. “Regardless, he’s my wolf and he won’t be in any fights.”
His dad hummed and reached for his glasses. “You’ll be leaving in four days. Don’t forget to program his collar to your bracelet. I hope you don’t mind, but I called the college and made sure your living arrangements would be, ah, up to our standards.”
His heart sank. Shit. “Of course. Thanks- Thank you, dad. It’s getting late, will you be finishing work soon?”
“Soon enough. Go on.”
Jackson gave him a smile and turned to leave. They went back to his room. Jackson fell onto his bed and stared at Wren standing still in the middle of the room. “What do you want to do?” Jackson asked. No response. “Just, pick something. Make a choice. Decide. Do you want to sit? Do you want to stand? Do you want to read a book? Get on my computer? Go outside?”
Jackson stopped. Wren hadn’t tensed, exactly. It wasn’t even much of a reaction. Jackson could have imagined it completely. He hesitated, then sat up.
“All right. Let’s go back outside.” There was no reaction. No response, but Jackson thought he’d guessed right. “Follow me.”
Down hallways and stairs and a quick stop in the kitchen. Margaret was alone in large room, kneading some dough. “Margaret, have you see Kia?”
“Last I saw she was stealing Sue-sue’s detangling spray.” Margaret looked up from the dough she was working. “Oh, don’t you look much better!” She smiled at Wren. Jackson turned, ready to tell Wren to say thank you or something… the words stalled in his throat. A dusty pink filled his cheeks.
Jackson snapped his mouth shut and turned around. “We’re heading out to the gazebo. Can you have Kia bring our tea out there?”
“Of course, dear. Scones?”
“Cookies?”
Margaret huffed and shook her head. “Between you and Kia… I suppose, since you’re going away to your fancy college soon, that I can let you indulge one more time.”
“Thanks Margaret.”
She waved him away. Jackson left and continued out the back door.
The sun was setting. A few clouds dotted the horizon, the undersides gilded orange. “This way,” Jackson said to Wren. He led them through the flowers and down a brick walkway. The gazebo was covered in crawling ivy. Purple clematis grew along the bottom half. Jackson sat down inside and told Wren to do the same. A couple bees buzzed about, lazy in the evening light. A breeze knocked out the heat of the day.
Jackson looked out over the small pond in the distance. He wanted to give Wren his privacy, let him look around and take deep breaths or do what he wanted to do. It wasn’t long until a rattling sound drew his attention.
Kia was coming down the gentle slope with a loaded cart. Jackson snorted. “I think Margaret came through for us.”
Kia smiled at them as she set up two small folding tables. She lit a tea candle and placed in the teapot holder. The cast iron teapot was set on top. The other table she filled with plates of scones and cookies. “I told Margaret it’d just be us three, but gave enough food to feed the troops.”
Jackson chuckled and leaned forward to pour the tea. “Do you like tea?” Jackson asked Wren. There was no response. Jackson filled a cup for him anyway. “It’s lavender chamomile.” It’s a good soothing tea. Natural calming agents, for those who believe that scents and tastes could calm someone’s nerves, and the chamomile would hopefully help his throat.
Though the rough sound of his voice was probably from disuse as opposed to pain.
“Here, drink this and eat as much of this as you want.”
Kia settled down next to Jackson. Jackson handed her a cup. They sat in a comfortable silence. It wasn’t as easy to talk when they weren’t safely behind the sound barrier of his room. Wren hadn’t touched a single thing to eat, just slowly sipped on his hot tea.
Kia leaned forward. “Eat that one. Jackson prefers the chocolate chip, but Margaret’s honey lemon scones are the best.” Wren didn’t move to touch it, but his gaze did dart up for a fraction of second. A single fraction that he made eye contact with Jackson.
“Eat it,” Jackson muttered. He hated commanding Wren to do it. Forcing Wren to drink the tea or eat the scone, but Wren wouldn’t do what he wanted to do so Jackson was forced to guess.
Wren picked up the smallest scone on the plate. He ate slowly and cautiously. Each bite ensured no crumbs fell. When he was finished, he lifted his tea and took another sip.
“Do you like the tea? The scone? Do you want a cookie too?” Jackson shifted in his seat. Kia shoved an elbow into his side. He grunted. Wren glanced at them again, then quickly averted his gaze.
Jackson let out a slow breath. “Eat one of each then tell me your favorite.”
Wren obeyed. After he finished the last bite, he cleared his throat. “The first one.”
“Score! Told ya, Jackson.”
Jackson rolled his eyes at Kia’s response, then noticed Wren’s breathing was doing that careful deep breath thing he’d done before. He narrowed his eyes. “Do you like the tea? Answer.”
“Yes.” Wren sipped it again.
“There is no wrong answer. If you don’t like, then I don’t care. We can get you something else.”
There. His breathing shallowed for two breaths. Jackson grabbed a cookie and leaned back. He’d pressured Wren enough. They’d figure out how to work together eventually. It didn’t need to happen the very first day.
The evening cooled as the sun slowly disappeared. Kia flipped on the soft lights in the gazebo and they watched the lightning bugs flash their colors across the yard. Jackson finished his tea and sighed. At the very least, it was a wonderful end to the day.
Jackson dug their big knife out of the drawer. He crushed and minced the garlic and scraped it to the side of the cutting board. “Wren?”“Yeah?”“Check the chicken.”There was a rattle behind him. Jackson turned to the carrots and started peeling them. The peeler was apparently a little loose and cocked the side after just two swipes. “Chicken’s good. Want me to adjust that?”“Nah, I got it.” Jackson straightened the peeler clamped on the edge of the counter. He tightened the grip and switched back to peeling the carrots. “Has anyone texted yet?”“Kia and Belle said they might be a little late. Otherwise, no.”Jackson glanced over. Wren was leaning his hip against the counter. His hair was loose around his shoulders. The sun beamed through their kitchen window and lit him in a warm light. Jackson set the half-peeled carrot down and stepped forward.
Nine months since he’d lost his arm and he and Wren were homeowners. Jackson laughed as he caught sight of the white flakes swirling in the wind outside the kitchen window. He opened the cabinet doors in search of the cocoa. Wren was starting a fire in the fireplace. The first snow of the year was later than normal and nothing more than barely there flurries. “Wren,” Jackson called from the kitchen.“Yeah?”“It’s snowing.” Jackson found the container. He braced it between the counter and his hip and used his hand to pry off the top. He mixed the chocolate into the hot milk, squeezed the excess out of Wren’s tea bag, placed both cups on his tray and carefully carried it into the living room. “Our first kiss was in the snow.”The fire was just starting to catch on the logs. Wren settled on the couch next to him and reached for his steaming mug on the coffee table. He tossed his other arm across Jack
Six months of therapy and rehab and sympathetic looks and Jackson was sick of it. He was tired of living in the hotel. He was tired of nonstop people. Nonstop sound. Nonstop everything. For a moment, he considered asking Wren if Wren would want to move in with Grandma Rose and Grandpa Frank. Then he realized what they could do. What they had the means to do.Wren stepped into their room. He was sweaty from the run with Zain. His dark hair stuck to the back of his neck despite the ponytail’s effort to keep it off. Jackson pushed his laptop to the side and rose up on his knees.Wren leaned forward for a kiss and Jackson pulled him in closer with his arm around Wren’s neck. Wren chuckled and gently disengaged. “What’s going on?”Jackson fell back and reached for his laptop again. He avoided eye contact as he pulled up the screen he had minimized. “I was just thinking that maybe it’s time we get a house? Just for the two of
Three months. His scar was still red and angry. Jackson’s therapist was great. Really. He knew any body image issues he might have were something he’d get over with enough time, but for now, staring at the angry red skin that marked where his arm should be… He felt a stupid mixture of embarassment, shame, and disgust. Jackson was pale. He’d always been pale. He’d never had an issue with it before, but now, the paleness of his skin made the scar look all the more alarming. The knock on the door startled him and he realized he’d been standing there for a little too long. “Just a second,” he called. The shirt was still a struggle to get on, but he was getting quicker every time. Jeans were a no go since he couldn’t button them one handed so he spent all of his time in sweatpants. Sweats were comfortable, but they were just another reminder of what he couldn’t do anymore. What he didn’t have anymore. The empty sleeve hung limp over his shoulder. Jackson turned hi
His dad was on his way to Jackson’s hospital room. Grandma Rose had reassured him countless times that if he changed his mind then she would personally escort him from the entire country. Jackson appreciated the thought, but he needed to talk to his dad. It had been a week since Jackson woke up. A week and Jackson was leaving the hospital in hopefully another day or two. He wanted to talk to his dad now, while he was still in such an impersonal place such as a hospital room.Jackson stared at the door. His dad should be arriving any minute. His dad had told Grandma Rose that he would be there at noon and it was currently 11:57. Wren sat next to him, on his left side, the side of his missing arm. He glanced at the clock. Then the door. Then the clock.When the knock came, he jumped and glanced at Wren. “Can you get it?” Jackson asked. Walking across the room in his hospital gown with one sleeve hanging limp would have put him in too vulnerable a positi
About two hours after your shooting, all of the collars in Oconee stopped working.Jackson didn’t understand. “That’s not possible. I know the coding in those collars backward and forward. There are countless fail-safes. For them to just, stop working…” Jackson shook his head. He was already feeling tired again, but he pushed through. “Do we know what caused it?”“There was a statement put out from that Carmillan Collars PR lady that they were looking into what caused the problem, but that was three days ago. There’s been no word since.”Three days. “What day is it?”“You were shot four days ago. You’ve been in and out of consciousness but every time was only for a few seconds and you were pretty confused,” Kia said. “You mentioned geese a couple of times.”Jackson’s lips twitched in a reluctant smile. “I think I was dreaming of