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jackbirdlee
XXX
I was in a mood when I got back to Mansview House. I’d had a lot of time with my thoughts, and I’d been thinking a lot about Becky, and how she had a kid, and wanted to be a nurse, and I was pretty sure she didn’t know the people she was working for were dangerous.
Being honest between friends, I was also on edge after my encounter with Creed at lunch. I do a lot of stupid shit if you get me in the right headspace, and I was close enough. So, yeah, there might have been more than one reason why I wanted to see Damian.
I made myself wait to see if he would show for dinner. He didn’t. Like before, it was just a plate for me—chicken tacos and refried beans—but Jasper was the one who cooked it and dished it out, and then he hung around washing dishes while I ate. The silence was mostly companionable, and I was ready to fuck that right up.
Jasper turned off the water. I swallowed my bite of taco and asked, “so where’s Damian?”
He didn’t answer immediately, so I turned to look at him, all innocent. He was leaning back against the sink, bracing himself there with both hands, a kitchen towel tossed over one broad shoulder, like a wild animal caught in a domestic moment. The squint he was pointing at me said he knew I was trying to start shit but hadn’t decided yet what he was going to do about it.
“He doesn’t eat dinner?” I asked. “This is good, by the way.” It was. Better than Charlie’s omelettes, anyway. I wondered if Jasper had cooked the night before, too; I had a hard time imagining Damian cooking.
“He’s busy.”
“Is he up in the attic? That’s where you all live, right?”
“No guests in the attic,” he said, pulling the towel off his shoulder and winding it around his hands like he was thinking of whacking me with it. Or maybe strangling me.
“I wasn’t planning to go up there and get him.”
“Hm,” Jasper grunted. “You couldn’t. The door’s locked.”
A lock wasn’t likely to stop me from getting somewhere I wanted to go, but I didn’t point that out, because Jasper was staring at me like he already knew and was daring me to say it out loud. I just said, “can you let him know I want to talk?”
“You can talk to me.”
“It’s about the conversation he and I had last night. About Wyatt Stoke.”
Jasper’s eyes narrowed and he leaned a hip back against the counter, unwinding the towel in his hands and folding it as he thought. I took a few more bites of my taco while I waited.
“I’ll tell him,” he conceded finally.
“Thanks.”
“Yeah. Don’t say I never did anything for you.”
“I’m a guest, I think you’re supposed to do things for me,” I said with a wink. Jasper rolled his eyes and walked out of the kitchen. I grinned after him, wondering how much I’d have to annoy him before he’d do something to shut me up. I could tell just by looking that he was strong enough to hold me down if he wanted to.
You’re probably thinking that I’m incorrigible. You’re right.
I finished my dinner alone, and then washed my plate. It seemed polite, even if I figured one of the guys would’ve done it if I’d just left it in the sink. I turned to find where to put the plate away, and saw Damian in the kitchen doorway, which startled me so bad that I nearly jumped out of my skin.
I tried to hide my flinch by turning it into a grab for the towel that Jasper had left on the counter. I guess I didn’t do a great job, because Damian said, “I apologize, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
I considered pointing out that he didn’t look that sorry, or that he might want to consider not sneaking around in complete silence if he didn’t want to startle people, but that itch to antagonize that had been riding me all afternoon was fading fast under Damian’s sharp, cool gaze.
“Don’t worry about it,” is what I said.
“Jasper said you wanted to speak to me about the Cypress.”
“Yeah. Um.” I cleared my throat and rubbed the towel across the already-dry plate I was holding, just to have something to do with my hands. “I’ve been thinking about the other people who work there. Like, the people who work for Wyatt? They’re not all Sabbatarians, right?”
Damian arched one of his elegant eyebrows, like my question had surprised him. He was standing in the doorway, casually imperious, his weight resting on one hand on the doorframe so as not to rub his fine clothes against the wood. I leaned back against the counter behind me and felt like I was performing a poor imitation of Jasper’s easy posture from earlier.
“The Sabbatarians restrict their membership to qualifying members of select families with generational wealth and power, and my understanding is that new members need to buy their way in with a sizable tithe. Wyatt himself is more of a crony than a real member. His employees are likely aware of the Sabbatarians and their connection with the hotel, but I doubt they know anything about the true nature of the organization, or the violence that’s been committed by its members.” He considered me for a moment, then asked, “did you see something that concerned you?”
I hesitated, then asked, “do you think…would they be in danger? The people working there?”
His gaze sharpened on my face, and I found myself looking down at the buttons on his waistcoat instead. They were metal, catching the soft overhead light in warm glints.
“Are you worried for someone in particular?” he asked.
“No,” I said, then bit my lip, because the lie had slipped out more on instinct than intentionally. “Well…there’s a woman I work with. Becky Green.”
“Do you think that she’s in danger?”
“I guess I was hoping that you’d tell me she’s not.”
He sighed and tapped his fingers against the doorframe in a light pattern, not very different from how he’d tapped his lips during our other conversation. As soon as I noticed it, I felt embarrassed, like I was violating his privacy by observing such a human habit in someone so self-possessed.
I was still deciding what to do with that feeling when he spoke again. “I won’t lie to you, Mason. Wyatt and the Sabbatarians are dangerous. But I think the risk to his employees is minimal, assuming your friend isn’t asking any questions she shouldn’t.”
I wanted to deny that she was my friend—but that was instinct again, something built into me from years with Creed, and I stamped down on it. My next words came out blunter than I meant. “You don’t think they’ll hurt her, like…” I cut myself off there, and Damian lifted both eyebrows.
“She’s not in danger of being abducted like Charlie, no. He was targeted.”
“Okay.” I wasn’t as put at ease as I’d hoped, and I realized finally that it sat badly with me that this was another thing I couldn’t be honest with Becky about. But Damian couldn’t fix that for me. “Have the Sabbatarians killed people?”
“Certainly. But not recently.”
“How long ago is not recently?” I demanded.
He hummed apologetically and shook his head that he couldn’t tell me that. That was frustrating, but I got it; he barely knew me from Adam, and he’d already shared more with me than I had any real right to ask. It felt like a failure, though, that I hadn’t somehow earned his trust already, when I had such a powerful hunger for it.
I didn’t know how to prove myself to someone like Damian. I’d never had to earn Creed’s trust; I’d just had it from the beginning, because, all things considered, he wasn’t all that smart, and he’d never doubted that he could control me.
“You know I don’t have any loyalty to Wyatt,” I pointed out. “I’m working there for my own reasons.”
The corner of his mouth lifted in obvious amusement. “Oh, you don’t say? Is it not typical these days to live at one hotel while you work at another?”
“If more places charged the rates you do, it would be,” I pointed out, and he rolled his eyes. “My point is, if there’s anything I can do while I’m in there that could…help? Anything you need to know that I might be able to find out, or whatever? I could do that.”
Damian’s fingers stilled and the smirk dropped off his face, and he stared at me, still and quiet and focused. Finally he asked, his voice low and dark, “Mason, are you offering to spy on Wyatt for me?”
I shrugged and nodded. “If it’d help. To keep Charlie safe, or whatever else you need.”
“Whatever else I need,” he murmured, like he was talking to himself, though his eyes were still fixed on me with an intensity that was making my face hot. “Do you typically offer your services carte blanche to anyone who desires them?”
I debated saying that depends on the services, but it didn’t seem like the right moment for that kind of joke, so I just said, “no, not just anyone. You’re…” I realized I didn’t know how to finish that thought without embarrassing myself, and stumbled to a halt. But Damian waited for me to finish, watching me, silent like a shark, and I had to say something.
“You’re different,” was what I came out with. “All of you.” I gestured with one hand to try and indicate the other two men, wherever they were, and Mansview House itself.
“We are,” he agreed, his voice warming in a way that made me feel warm, too. “If you truly want to help us, there is something you can do.”
“I’ll do it.”
“You don’t know what it is yet,” he pointed out, eyebrows lifting, and I just shrugged. That brought his smirk back. “You’re aware of the event at the hotel next week.”
“Yeah, their conference or whatever?”
He nodded. “If I could get a list of the attendees…”
“Okay.”
“That easily?” He eyed me. “Wyatt doesn’t keep a list lying around, does he?”
“Not on paper, no. They handle their bookings digitally. You know, with computers?” I teased, and Damian gave me such a blank look that it jarred me, but then he cracked a smile again.
“I’m aware of them. You can get the names there?”
“They’re closing the hotel to normal guests during the conference. So it should only be Sabbatarians on the books.” I hesitated, then said, “I guess they might not have all booked under their real names, but—I’ll get you as many as I can.”
“That would be a great help.” He eyed me seriously. “But be careful. If you’re caught…”
“I won’t get caught,” I promised, winking. “And if I do, I won’t mention you. Don’t worry, I’m not as stupid as I look.”
Damian’s eyebrows furrowed, and he was silent for long enough that I got a little nervous, thinking back to try and figure out what I’d said wrong.
“Mason,” he said finally, “I’m worried for your safety, not that you’re going to implicate me. I don’t want to see you hurt—or worse—on my behalf.” He eyed me, then said, “I have to say, your trust in me is flattering, but it worries me that you’re so willing to put yourself in harm’s way.”
This will sound stupid, but that hurt my pride a bit. You have to understand that as far as I was concerned, the main thing I was good for was putting myself in harm’s way for the benefit of others, and I had a lot of years of experience in getting out of tight scrapes that Creed had gotten me into. “If you think I can’t do it—“
“Mason,” Damian said sharply, and I closed my mouth so fast that my teeth clicked together. His next words were gentler, though. “That’s not what I’m saying. I believe you can do what you say. But my priority is your safety, and I want that to be your priority, too.”
“I…oh.” I wasn’t sure what to say to that, but I couldn’t exactly tell him I didn’t know how to do that, so I just said, “I hear you.”
“Thank you.” He gave me one more long look, then said, “look after yourself, Mason. Goodnight.”
“Night,” I said, biting back on the urge to do something stupid like call him sir. He turned and walked out of the room. His footfalls were eerily silent, even when I was listening for them, even though he wore expensive shoes that looked like they should click importantly on the floor.
I lingered aimlessly in the kitchen for a while, feeling shy and not wanting to look like I was following him.
When I eventually emerged from the kitchen, the only one in the living room was Jasper, sitting on the sofa with one boot cocked against the leg of the expensive-looking coffee table. I was acutely aware of how I’d poked at him earlier. I felt his eyes on me as I passed, but I kept my head down, and he didn’t say anything, which left me a little relieved and a little disappointed.
I shut myself in my room and fell asleep curled around a pillow, face buried in it, thinking too hard about the sound of Damian’s laugh and how much I wanted to hear it again.
XXX
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Dinner tonight is: baked salmon with green beans and smashed potatoes
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Date: 3 Apr 2023 01:07 pm (UTC)